RSA: Locate Object

Locate Object is one of those utility spells that -at first glance- sounds really handy, but seems fairly limited. Some creative spellcasting can make a big difference, though.

It's important to note that the magic-user/elf version of this spell is slightly different than the clerical one. It's a third level cleric spell and 2nd level for MU/Elves. Clerics have a fixed range (120'), which is better than the arcane types' at first, but their version gets boosted by caster level, eventually outpacing the cleric at 7th. The cleric gets a much longer duration, though. The general effects of the spell is identical for both. Most of the time I've seen the spell it's been clerical. After all, the cleric can just pray for the spell for the day rather than permanently tying up a slot in their spellbook with it. So when used, it's often the 120'/6 turns version.

There's nothing in the BX description about being blocked by materials like lead, as some versions of the game have used. So dungeon walls, etc. aren't going to impede it. The spell will tell only direction, not distance, and only if the object is in range. Outdoors, even converted to yards, that's not terribly far unless you already know you're close.

To locate something specific, you need to know exactly what it looks like. You can't just say "The Crown of Oogabooga!" unless you've seen it or at least a good likeness/detailed description. Common, nonspecific objects (the text uses "stairs" as an example) are searchable based on what the closest example is (again, if in range at all).

I think the "common item" facet is where the spell is most likely to be useful. Once a party has been through a stretch of dungeon and mapped it out, movement back through the area can be made faster than "exploration" speed. If, for example, a cleric casts the spell and moves steadily through the cleared area sweeping for "secret doors," he stands a good chance of finding any the party might have missed. If he "pings" one farther away in the dungeon, they know that there may areas they haven't seen yet.

The spell can't locate creatures, but -as the illustration above shows- it can get a fix on loot. "Gold." or "Coins" or "Gems" could save valuable searching time.

One caveat: The spell only locates one thing (or type) per casting. Meaning you can't start the spell with the crown example, then switch to secret doors, and then to gold coins. The duration's function is not to take inventory of the dungeon. It's to triangulate!

Let's say the caster was looking for secret doors. If they are right in front of one, small movements to either side will cause drastic swings in the "angle" of the ping. If the nearest secret door is nearer to maximum range, the shift in angle is subtler. While I wouldn't allow precision to seconds of arc, I wouldn't punish clever spell use coupled with careful map-making to help the party find something. If multiple castings were used over time, it might be possible to find hidden treasure vaults or the like.

As far as specific objects are concerned, I can imagine scenarios where the spell could be useful, but unless the DM deliberately sets things up for it (e.g. a portrait with a detailed image of the item) or the players plan well ahead on this tactic, I see that use being somewhat uncommon. Still, it could be fun if it happened!

Moldvay Musings XVIII: Encounter Distance

Greetings! It's been a little while, but  I will try to be a little more consistent with my postings.

What with COVID-19, the end of the world, and everything, I have actually been playing D&D fairly regularly via Discord and Roll20. I started a very basic Keep on the Borderlands run for my group using Labyrinth Lord/AEC rules. Nothing exceptional to report, but it's been fun dusting of a classic like that.

Now, one of the little quirks of BX (as well as some other editions) is that distances and ranges (not Areas of Effect) are converted to yards in the wilderness (as opposed to feet indoors). More on that in a bit.


After a couple of wilderness encounters (some lizard folk and a random run-in with some giant boars), it got me thinking about the encounter sequence, specifically distances. In BX -and by extension LL- when there is a random encounter, the DM is supposed to roll to determine how far apart the party and the monster(s) are when they notice one another (assuming the terrain/floorplan doesn't dictate otherwise). In the dungeon, this roll is (2d6) x 10 feet. In the wilderness, it is (4d6) x 10 yards.

The changeover mostly makes sense. In a typical dungeon, the party is not moving very fast. They usually have very limited light, in unfamiliar territory, often tight quarters, etc. Ranged weapons are limited by low ceilings and crowded conditions. Outside, you can arc a shot much farther. [Though since taking up archery, I can say that the ranges in D&D for targeting a single, mobile target are ridiculous (e.g. bowhunting). Extreme long range with a modern compound bow in those circumstances is 70-80 yards, and that would be with severe penalties. But I digress.]

One of the pitfalls of encounter distance is that it can lead to an encounter getting stalled before it starts. In the case of the boars, the party's ranger spotted the boars over 200 yards away. This gave the party ample time to pepper them with spells and missiles as the pigs closed the distance. The party's druid slapped an Entangle spell on two of them and things ended fairly quick after that.

Now, I know that if this had been a straight BX game (no druids) and the random distance had been closer, things could have gone very differently. So I am not faulting the party or the rules. That's just how the dice go sometimes. In fact, I think the players were very wise to minimize their risk. It was a random encounter with creatures that typically carry no treasure. The risk/reward ratio was not in their favor here.

The DM may want to take a moment when setting up such an encounter to think about a few distance-related factors, especially in the wilderness. 1) Does the range that was rolled make sense? Maybe there are terrain features that make is unreasonable (tree cover, uneven ground, etc.)  2) Will these features affect things like movement rates, line of sight for spells, cover from missiles, etc.? 3) Remember that the implication is that, unless one side is surprised, both groups become aware of each other at the start of the encounter. If either side is surprised, the distance is reduced to a maximum of 40 yards (X23), so surprising an orc patrol 100 yards away is a no-go.

Because of things like this, I highly recommend going through all the steps "behind the screen" first and figure out the logical way to set things up before beginning to describe the situation to the players. The encounter in general will flow much more smoothly.

Moldvay Musings XVI, Part 2: Beat to Quarters!

The HMS Suckerfish, a small sailing warship equipped with a catapult, sets sail from her home port. The ship has a trained crew of 10 sailors, a navigator, and a full complement of 25 marines. Her destination is 450 miles away, a journey of 5 days (90 miles per day base speed) with favorable wind & weather. A roll of 2d6 is made for each day.

Day 1: Roll result = 9 A strong breeze. 120 miles covered (+1/3 move)
Day 2: Roll result = 2 Becalmed. No movement.
Day 3: Roll result = 5 Moderate breeze or broad reaching. 60 miles covered (2/3 move). 180 total miles traveled. But the Ocean wandering encounter roll came up as a 5. A d8 says its a Swimmer. A 9 on the subtable roll says its a Sea Snake. This is really a non-encounter, unless someone goes swimming/overboard. Moving on...
Day 4: Roll result = 3 Ext. light breeze or beating before the wind. Only 30 miles covered. 210 total.
Day 5: Roll result = Normal winds. Normal (90 miles) movement. 300 miles total. But another encounter. This one comes up Men. To simplify, this is our ship to ship encounter.

Normal winds will be simplified to normal weather. Regular visibility is 24 miles and a full crew means it's reasonable that the Suckerfish has a lookout. No surprise is possible under such conditions. (X64) Ship encounters are considered to start at 300 yards (the other ship can be positively identified). Rolling for direction (a d6 for the hex faces) a 1 says the other ship appears off the starboard bow (ahead and to the right). It's an enemy ship! A small galley fitted with a ram and catapult. Why is a galley way out here away from the coast? Who knows?

The Suckerfish has the weather gage (they are upwind) and the ships move at the same encounter speeds. Still, the galley has a 50% chance of staying clear (01-50 = success). An 87! The Suckerfish closes the gap and initiative is rolled. 5 for the Suckerfish, 1 for the galley.

At 300 yards, the catapult is fired with flaming pitch. Four marines man the weapon, meaning it fires every 5 rounds and attacks as a 4th level fighter (X64). The galley has AC 8 and the attack roll is a 16, a hit! The flames deal 2 hull points of damage. Dropping the galley from 80 to 78, but the fire continues to burn. The sailors (10) abandon their posts to put out the flames. It will take them 2 turns to put out the fire and during that time flames will continue to spread and damage the ship. The galley is using the rowers anyway for the encounter, so the sailors can be spared.

Next the galley fires its catapult back. This time it's a rock. An 18 hits handily (AC 8), dealing 11 points of (3d6) damage to the Suckerfish's hull. She is now at 69 hull points. Both ships move toward each other, even with the Suckerfish's reduction in speed (-10%) due to damage, the ships will be too close to use their catapults next round.

Initiative comes up a 2 and 2. Simultaneous actions! The galley is attempting to ram and the Suckerfish is trying to grapple. The galley needs an 11 to hit. 15! The ram deals 50 hull points (1d4+4 x 10. Rolling a 1). The galley would rather not grapple and tries to evade (so as to ram again). The Suckerfish needs a 1 or 2 on a d6 to tie onto the galley. A 1! The lines snake out and the ships are grappled. At this point melee ensues. The crew and marines of the Suckerfish are at a -2 in the first round as they board the galley. After that it's just a large combat.

In the end, assuming the Suckerfish is victorious, she still suffered 61 points of damage out of her 80 total hull points. Nearly 80%! Her speed is drastically reduced (18 miles per day instead of 90) and the best the crew can do for repairs at sea will only get the ship back to 50% for a speed of 45 mpd. Licking her wounds, she limps to the nearest friendly port of call for proper refitting.

REF: With a left and a left and a left and a left and a right and a...

Random Encounter Fun time!

So we're going back to the dungeon this time and it looks like we're doing level 3. A roll of 18 on the chart reveals our encounter is with... TARANTELLA!

That's right! A troupe of italian folk dancers spring out of an alcove and...

April Fools! 

Not that tarantella, no I'm referring to the horrid pun in Moldvay that is the tarantella. (Get it? 'Cuz it sounds like 'Tarantula'? Oh my sides.)

Despite the whimsical nature of the creature's creation, this can be a pretty challenging encounter.

It says 1d3 appearing. Rolling a 5 on a d6 gives us 3 of the critters. 

So three giant spiders attack a party of let's say four 3rd level PCs. Now, unlike other giant spiders, the tarantella's venom is not directly lethal (though a save vs. poison is still required). Instead, it causes "painful spasms which resemble a frantic dance." This gives the victim a -4 to attacks and foes gain a +4 to hit. The spiders have 4HD apiece, so they're hitting relatively often vs. a party that probably doesn't have much in the way of magical protection yet (THACO 16). Further, they have AC5 and enough hit points (15-20 on average) that they can withstand some damage before getting killed.

So the nutty(er) part about the tarantella's attack is that the dance has a "magical effect" and anyone seeing the victim dancing must save (vs Spells this time) or start dancing themselves! This means one hit and failed initial save could lead to the entire party succumbing to the effects on the following round. Victims will eventually (5 turns) collapse exhausted (defenseless). Where I assume the spiders can go about enjoying their meal(s).  

Now, a couple notes, some to do with rules details, some more personal interpretation. First off, those fighting the spiders will need not only save vs poison every time they are hit, but vs spells every time a comrade starts to cha-cha, At least vs the initial victim of a bite. Truly harsh DMs could make PCs save not only against seeing the bitten PC's dance, but against each new "infected" dancer's gyrations. Given that 3rd level PCs are failing such saves at least half the time, this doesn't bode too well for them.

Next. Remember that each bite also deals 1d8 plain old damage. Even if the spiders don't leave the "dance party" alone to exhaust themselves, they are getting +4 to hit on those who are dancing. It wouldn't take long to just kill the PCs that way either. 

Neutralize Poison and Dispel Magic will stop the beat, but that's usually beyond the ability of 3rd level PCs. I would also question (and this is one of those interpretations I mentioned) whether an infected MU or cleric could even cast a spell while dancing. That may make such a fight too dangerous for a random encounter by some standards.

So. On to the encounter itself. This could be a simple as the PCs disturbing a nest of these horrid arachnids and paying the price. For a little more fun, what if said spiders were not just looking for a meal? What if they were charmed watchdogs? They bite interlopers, let them dance themselves to the point of collapse, and then haul them back to... who? Or maybe they are the pets of some tribe of humanoids who have an immunity. Once the PCs are exhausted. The owners come out, loot them and dump them in a hole or leave them naked in the dungeon to be killed by some other nasty random encounter. 

Oozy Goodness Part V: Ochre Jelly

Rounding out the BX slimes is our final entry, the Ochre Jelly. This is probably the least used one in my games. Not that I dislike it as a monster, but there's only so many instances where an ooze is needed, so something has to give. OJ seems to be in many ways a "lesser" black pudding. It's worth noting that the pudding is the only one in the Expert set, probably due to its high HD. The jelly has half the HD and lower damage, but behaves similarly. Before we dive in the ochre jelly (ew!) let's have the stats:

Ochre Jelly (from Moldvay)

AC: 8
HD: 5*
Move: 30 (10')
Att: 1
Damage: 2d6
No. App: 1 (0)
Save: F3
Morale: 12
Treasure: Nil
AL: N

The OJ shares the usual ooze/slime traits: unintelligent, relentless morale, slow movement, etc. Like other gooeys, it isn't harmed by all types of damage. In the OJ's case, only fire & cold affect it. Otherwise it splits up like the pudding (up to five of them). The 2HD baby jellys do half (1d6) damage. The jelly looks like an amoeba more than just a pile of goo, so it has a bit more form than most slimes.

Its corrosive effect doesn't harm metal or stone. That doesn't make a platemail-wearing fighter immune though. It can still seep through cracks and seams. It can demolish wood, leather or cloth in one round (!) so that spear shaft or bow might be toast. I would also think things like magic cloaks, etc. might need to make some saving throws pretty quick.

Overall the ol' YellowJelly would be a respectable threat to low levels PCs and, like a rust monster, make almost anyone fear for their gear. Its susceptibility to fire give the party an easy way to cope IF they know about its specific weaknesses. In classic D&D, smart players are weighing the risks, though. Unless there is something beyond the jelly that is (potentially) worthwhile, it has no treasure of its own as a rule, and even with a special ability bump to XP, no one is leveling just for taking one out. As a DM, I would want to use the jelly in surprise situations or as an impediment to overcome for a larger goal. Perhaps a mad alchemist figured out how to bottle one up and chucks the jar at the PCs like a grenade?

Those ain't apricot!

RMA: Wild Boar

Sus scrofa, or Wild Boar, is a perfectly normal critter. It's not giant or magic or dire. Unlike it's more fantastical "cousins", the wereboar and devil swine, it lacks special or supernatural abilities. So why bother listing it in the monsters section at all?

Well, first off, boars were all over the place in medieval Europe and Asia, so a fantasy world based on that sort of period would likely have them as well. They appear in the grassland, woods, river, inhabited, and jungle encounter tables.

Let's have the stats, shall we?

Boar (from Moldvay)

AC: 7

HD: 3

Move: 150' (50')

Att: 1 tusk

Damage: 2d4

No. App: 1d6 (1d6)

Save: F2

Morale: 9

Treasure: Nil

AL: N

As a straight-up fight, boar are low on the risk-to-reward scale for PC types. They are fast enough and just tough enough charge in and to bang up the party without giving them much in return. No treasure and only 35 xp each. Their morale isn't awesome, but they'd probably stick about for a round or two at least.

There are a few scenarios where I could see featuring these animals in adventures or even just an encounter. 

1. Remember that wereboars can summon these things to fight with them. 
2. Low level PCs might ingratiate themselves to a landowner by dealing with some pesky boars ruining the crops.
3. They might the only food source around for starving PCs lost in the wilds.
4. Body disposal

Pigs are omnivorous and are not shy about carrion. Popular fiction has periodically used this fact to add a sinister aspect to their feeding habits.

Scary man!

Imagine a crime boss who keeps a boar pit outside of town for such a purpose. Or what if someone was killed in the woods and a sounder of boars found the body? Maybe something important or valuable was on the corpse when they started to feed?

Moldvay Musings XIII: Reactions

"For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction."

-Newton's Third Law                           

Sorry, Isaac. Not necessarily in D&D.

Like morale, reactions rolls have also faded from the later editions of the glorious mess that is Dungeons & Dragons. Sure, there are skills and such that allow for things like diplomacy and bluffing, but I am not a fan of too many defined skills in D&D. It's fine in games that were designed from the start for them -Runequest/BRP springs to mind- but they as much a hindrance as a benefit in old-school play (whatever that means). 

Back on topic, the encounter reaction rules in versions like BX are incredibly simple. Other than the Charisma adjustments table, they are one paragraph of text and one 2d6 table of five possible results (B24). The rules simply state that while some monsters will nearly always behave in the same way (e.g. mindless undead attacking), it is possible for some creatures' actions to vary.  

I've covered a bit about hirelings in an earlier post, so I'm mostly sticking to the encounter mechanics here. Suffice to say, the retainer reaction rolls (B21) help add a layer of detail to an integral part of the BX-style game. Adventuring parties were assumed to include meatshields and the like. Uncharismatic PCs, miserly offers of pay, or poor treatment could make life difficult for a party that needs to pad its ranks or flesh out weak spots in its lineup.

As stated in the preceding section on party actions, if they choose to talk, they might influence the monsters' (or NPCs') attitude toward the encounter and, by extension, the PCs. In my games, I interpret "talk" loosely. A common language isn't always required. An offer of food to a predator can be as effective an overture as speaking confidently and calmly to a goblin patrol in their tongue. (Side Note: This can be a case for using alignment languages and making those INT bonus language slots worth something in one's game!)

We didn't deserve you, Steve!

A couple of caveats to consider. One, the DM always has the right to veto making a reaction roll and simply decide how monsters, etc. will act. An elven patrol is unlikely to let the party go after they just burned down the Sacred Oak, no matter how charismatic the PC spokesperson is! 

Two, even if a roll is made, there could be negative modifiers. The goblins mentioned earlier might be fine with avoiding a fight under normal circumstances. However, if the PCs are there to stop their shaman from performing a blood sacrifice that will give them victory over the villagers, the patrol just might be less inclined to believe the party is "just passing through." Even unintelligent creatures can have circumstantial biases. In real life, encountering a bear in the woods will usually not result in an attack (if you aren't stupid about it, that is), but a grizzly sow with cubs can be another matter! Tossing her some iron rations is probably not going to cut it, even for evasion purposes.

I guess what bothers me about this mechanic falling by the wayside is it removed a big incentive for actual roleplay in a dungeon environment, as opposed to just chatting up the tavern wench for -ahem- "rumors." To me, the BX reaction mechanic was an elegant solution that allowed for player agency and a bit of luck.

I confess I don't know much about 5th ed. What little I've played of it didn't seem to lend itself to this, but I could be wrong. 

Moldvay Musings XII: Morale

The morale mechanic has apparently fallen out of favor in later editions of D&D. I could paw through different books and the intertubes to find the exact edition where it went away, but that's not really what I'm interested in talking about. Rather, I'd like to talk a bit about how it is employed in many classic RPGs like B/X and why, in my oh-so-humble opinion, it is a very good thing.

First off, I should mention that the morale rules in Moldvay (B27) are expressly listed as optional. The game can be played without them. In my experience,they add a level of realism and survivability to the game that makes them more than worthwhile. Let's take a quick look at the opening lines of the section:

Any creature in battle may try to run away or surrender. Characters are never forced to do this; a character always reacts in the way the player wishes. NPCs and monsters, however, may decide to run away or surrender.

Two main takeaways to consider here:

1) "Characters react in the way the player wishes." There are things like fear spells and effects (Giant Shrews, anyone?) that can effect a PC, but whether to fight on in the face of dire odds is completely in the hands of the players.

2) "Any creature in battle may try to run away or surrender." This is an element of morale that I don't always remember to apply. I usually just have a creature run away if it fails its roll. That's fine for dumb beasts, but an intelligent creature may throw in the towel (especially is escape looks unlikely).This can lead to fun RP between the victors and the vanquished, not to mention alignment considerations by the players.

Remember how a decent charisma score can be a boon not only when hiring retainers (reaction rolls) but in giving them better morale? Here's a fun one: NPCs could decide to surrender to the bad guys if the PCs are losing a fight (or look like they might lose)! They might even switch sides! Weirdly, a counter-argument for not having all the hirelings just work for the one charismatic PC. If the NPCs are loyal to different PCs, that should mean separate morale rolls, which means it's not all or nothing when checking morale. Some minions might break while others remain. 

I mentioned realism and survivability. It seems perfectly realistic than not every encounter ends up a fight to the death. Sometimes nerves fail. Even a bestial predator may decide the PCs are not such an easy meal and take to its heels. BX gets a rep for being fairly lethal. Using morale in your game means some fights end a little sooner, which means fewer to-hit rolls against the PCs, thus less damage taken and fewer casualties. 

RMA: Ghost

More Halloween fun!

While not part of the core BX roster of monsters, ghosts are in the Moldvay/Wells Basic series module Palace of the Silver Princess. You can also find a version in the Labyrinth Lord Advanced Edition Companion,  but that always struck me as more of a 1st editon version ported over, so I'm sticking with the B3 version (I'm working from a pdf of the orange cover, if they are markedly different in the green cover version, please let me know).

Ghost (from B3)

AC: 1

HD: 5

Move: 150' (50')

Att: 1 + Aging

Dmg: 1d6

No. App: 1d4

Save: F5

Morale: 12

AL: C

Ghosts are (obviously) a type of undead, and can be turned as wights. Their attacks have a 50% chance of aging the target by 1d8 years due to fright. What's odd is that -while described as translucent- there is no mention of them being incorporeal or requiring any special weapons (i.e. magic or silver) to strike them. I assume the standard undead immunities, such as charm and hold spells, are still in effect. 

Overall I am unimpressed by this listing. Other than some mention of them haunting certain types of locales and the idea that rich and powerful people become "powerful" ghosts in the afterlife (whatever that means!), it's basically a GINO (Ghost In Name Only). The Rules Cyclopedia's "Haunt" offers some more flavor, but it's still basically more monsters.

I am record saying that the undead's scariness should be more psychic than physical. I don't feel that the classic D&D Ghost delivers on this one. I do feel that it has a lot of potential, though. 

For example, the aging effect is a nice twist, but it's a pity that there is so little in the rules to make this really matter to the PCs. Sure the DM can make a ruling, but it's unlikely to make much difference unless a PC gets hit several times. This is certainly possible, but in practice how does the DM decide when the unlucky character has burned through his mortal coil? Or aged enough to affect scores, etc.? An on the fly ruling here can feel a bit arbitrary to the player if it's his PC on the line. I know that other editions do cover this, but it's still a weak link for the BX version IMO. 

Instead of just aging, what if there was some other effect? Maybe the PC literally dies of fright or "System Shock" from aging several years in an instant? Save vs. Death Ray/Poison or your heart fails.

I would keep the notion of ghosts being tied to something in the material world. It may be a place, or an object, or their own remains. It may even be their descendants (or those of their killer's!). 

Of course, the lack of "incorporeality" may just be a typo or oversight in the listing. Let's just put that back in, shall we? Like spectres, they have no solid bodies. I might also suggest that they have a higher chance of surprise (1-4?), due to popping out walls and such. Magic or silver to hit them seems appropriate as well. I would also give it the ability to turn invisible so it can toss things about poltergeist-style.

Finally, it may make sense to abandon the idea of the ghost as a "monster" altogether and think of it like a trap or puzzle. It is an anguished soul seeking release. The PCs could vanquish the spirit by laying it to rest. Maybe they need to bury its remains in consecrated ground or bring its killer to justice. Who knows? But it seems a heck of lot more spooky than some glow in the dark cookie cutter stat block. 

REF (Random Encounter Fun): Magic Men

Switching things up from the last REF, I thought we'd go back to the dungeon. A random determination took us to level 3 of the crawl (Moldvay). The result? Medium.

That's right. 1st level magic-user(s). 1d4 of them, actually. I rolled and got a 3.

Three unarmored fellows with daggers and one spell apiece aren't exactly terrifying. Granted, the spells could be a challenge, but if our PCs are 3rd level on average, I doubt they're quaking in their boots, here. I decided to roll randomly for the spells for Huey, Dewey, and Louie. I came up with Read Magic, Protection from Evil, and Light.

Scary? Not so much.

However, there is an interesting wrinkle to Mediums in the monster listings. There is a 50% chance that they are accompanied by a 3rd level MU, like a senior student or teacher. Rolling d100, I got 09, so guess who's coming along?

The conjurer gets two 1st level and one 2nd level spells. Again, rolling randomly, it turns out he has Protection from Evil, Magic Missile, and Web. No wonder he was sent along to watch these three newbies!

There's nothing inherently hostile about this quartet of spell-casters. Maybe they are searching the dungeon for some magic item or a spell scroll. Or maybe they're in the employ of the evil overlord and they are patrolling this sector of the lair. The point is that because of the fact that they are essentially NPCs (as opposed to "monsters"), they can have just as many motivations as the PCs for being in the dungeon.

In my campaign, magic-users and elves need to find spells to fill their grimoires, so this encounter would be a huge potential win for them. Likewise, the mediums (and their 3rd level buddy) might covet the PC spellcasters' books.

RMA: Mummies

Keeping up with the Halloween theme, here's another classic monster.

Mummies aren't rare in D&D, but they aren't always a "go-to" monster, even for undead. I think it's partially because of the exotic nature of the trope. We usually think of pyramids and deserts when we think of these relics, but many cultures besides the Egyptians practiced forms of mummification of their dead.

Unlike other powerful undead, eg vampires or specters, mummies aren't necessarily intelligent or mindless. I've probably seen them most often played more like a ghost: either haunting some ruin or acting as an agent of vengeance against those who would defile a tomb or temple. 

Mummies are quite frankly among the scarier of the undead in classic D&D. Before we get into it, let's review the stats:

Mummy (from Cook):

AC: 3
HD: 5+1*
Move: 60' (20')
Att: 1 + disease
Dmg: 1d12 + disease
No. App: 1d4 (1d12)
Save: F5
Morale: 12
AL: C

From a purely combat perspective, Sir Wraps-a-lot here is reasonably respectable. He's slow, but that makes sense (shambling undead, anyone?). His AC plus the normal undead immunities and decent hit dice mean he can take a fair bit of punishment, too.

A brief side note: I believe the Mummy is the only attack that uses the d12 damage die (as opposed to 2d6 or some such) in all of BX.

Where the mummy gets really formidable are in its special abilities.

1. In keeping with an earlier post about the undead being scary, it's worth pointing out that mummies actually have a fear effect rule. Just seeing a mummy forces a Save vs. Paralysis or the character freezes up. If the mummy moves out of sight or attacks somebody, the effect is broken, but still. I do like the idea of a character just locking up and not alerting the party because he's too scared to speak!
2. In addition to the 1d12 damage, the mummy's touch infects the victim with a rotting disease. What's curious about the disease is that it doesn't kill, it just prevents magical healing and slows any natural healing to 10x as long. According to Moldvay, normal healing = 1d3 hp/day of full rest. [B25] This would mean 1d3 per ten days of rest! Best find yourself a 6th level cleric and get a Cure Disease if you want those festering wounds to close!
3. Lastly, in addition the usual undead immunities like Sleep, Charm, or Hold spells, the mummy can only be harmed by fire or magic (spells or weapons) and these only do half damage! I always think of mummies going up like a bonfire, but in truth they are quite resistant to flames. 
4. While it's true that a mid-level or higher cleric can automatically turn or even destroy mummies, if you are in their lair (lost temples and the like), there can be up to a dozen of them! That's 60 hit dice to turn, and that's not gonna happen. 

Mummies get a pretty generous treasure type (D). It's not "dragon hoard" levels of loot, but potentially quite profitable. Which is in keeping with why tomb robbers would bother with the risk of digging these linen-swaddled nightmares up at all!

RMA: Lycanthropes (part 3, Wereboars)

Wereboars are an odd one to me. I've espoused my love of their bigger, wackier cousin the Devil Swine, but the "normal" porcine shapeshifter is not one I've seen in use much in D&D games I've played or run.

Wereboars (from Moldvay):

AC: 4 (9 as human)
HD: 4+1*
Move: 150' (50')
Att: 1 (tusk-bite)
Dmg: 2d6
No. App: 1d4 (2d8)
Save: F4
Morale: 9
AL: N

Looking at the stats, a couple of things occur to me. Wereboars are the first of what I would consider the "tough" lycanthropes. They don't appear as a wandering monster until the Expert Set levels (4th) and their Armor Class, Hit Dice, and Damage are getting more respectable. Even without being a were-creature, a sounder of them would be a decent opponent for low to mid level PCs. Another interesting thing is that they are the first in the ascending power scale of these creatures to be neutral, instead of chaotic. This implies they aren't necessarily some evil monster.

Leaving the stat block behind, let's look at the description. They are listed as "semi-intelligent," which means they won't necessarily charge blindly into a situation, but they do have "bad tempers." Poor reaction rolls, maybe? They can do the animal summoning thing too, bringing normal wild boars to the fight. These are not insignificant creatures, especially if each lycanthrope is calling a couple in. 

An interesting tidbit here: "In human form they often seem to be berserkers, and may act the same way in battle (gaining +2 on 'to hit' rolls and fighting to the death)." [B39] Two things about this. First, in were form their morale is a nine, as opposed to the "never surrender" aspect of berserkers (which they do not do as boars, but as men). Second, this makes them pretty scary even out of their magical form. Another thought is that I can imagine a role for such people in some warrior societies. Almost like a "mystic order" of warriors that are infused with the "Spirit of the Boar" and charge berserk into battle and transform into beasts in the heat of the fighting. 

Reading over the material, it strikes me that one of the main ways wereboars can be effectively used in a game is tapping into the tremendous amount of folklore that surrounds the idea of pigs and boars being demonic or supernatural. There's as much about evil pigs (if not more) than werewolves in the really old stories. Granted, they aren't all lycanthropes in those stories, but the imagery is there. For example, the Cutty Black Sow is a welsh tale of a creature that steals mens' souls on what is now Halloween. DMs looking for ways to weave a spooky wereboar-related adventure have no shortage of material to mine. 

RMA: Lycanthropes (part 2, Wererats)

Good ol' Tramp!

Next up in our look at lycanthropes are the wererats. There are several things about these creatures that make for an interesting encounter. Stats first, shall we?

Wererat (from Moldvay):

AC: 7 (9 as human)
HD: 3*
Move: 120' (40')
Att: 1, bite or weapon
Dmg: 1d4 or weapon
No. App: 1d8 (2d8)
Save: F3
Morale: 8
AL: C

Note the attack listing. They are the only standard lycanthrope that can wield a weapon in bestial form. It's important to note that damage from their weapons won't infect a person with lycanthropy, only their bites. But the really unusual stuff is in the description, not the stats.

1. They are not humans that turn into rats, but rats that turn into humans! The description on page B38 clearly states this. It is a little unclear how this works with infecting a human with the disease. Since the character becomes an NPC after they go "full were" it's not too much of an obstacle in play. Personally, I like the idea of regular rats getting infected and then being able to turn into humans!
2. They have three possible forms instead of two. Wererats can A) be rats, B) be humans, or C) assume a "man-sized rat form." While imagery like the Chaney photo from the last post popularizes the idea of the "hybrid" forms for lycanthropes in general, by the book wererats are the only ones. Other weres are people that "change into beasts." None of the other descriptions depict a "man-beast" form, so an argument can be made that they are just wolves or boars or whatever when transformed.
3. They are intelligent and can speak Common in either form. The general description for lycanthropes' animal forms says they cannot speak normal languages but can communicate with animals of their type. Again, wererats are an exception to the rule. They may speak in human or "man-rat" form. 
4. When they summon regular rats to aid them, they get giant rats instead of normal ones. 

Tactically, wererats are clever, setting ambushes with a high chance of surprising foes. Their ability to change into much smaller than human size also makes them quite capable of infiltration and stealth. I can envision using them in scenarios like a chaotic master thief who retains a cadre of wererat spies.

RMA: Lycanthropes (werewolf)

Once again, Halloween fast approaches. It is easily my favorite holiday of the year. This reminded me of my post last year about classic monster movies. 

It then occurred to me that I have never done a Random Monster Assessment (RMA) about the classic lycanthropes. I have discussed the Devil Swine, but he's not a typical example of this grouping of monsters. So without further ado, I am diving into a series of lycanthrope RMAs starting with the classic of all classics, the werewolf.

OGWW!

First off, let's get the stats out of the way, shall we?

Werewolf (from Moldvay)
AC: 5 (9 in human form)
HD: 4
Move: 180' (60')
Att: 1 bite
Dmg: 2d4
No. App: 1d6 (2d6)
Save: F4
Morale: 8
AL: C

At first it doesn't appear that intimidating. Its armor class (in were-form) isn't too bad and it has a low morale. Four hit dice means it isn't dropping in one shot, but it isn't exactly a dragon, either. Of course, what makes the werewolf and other lycanthropes interesting (and scary) as foes are the devils in the details.

It's common knowledge that werewolves are not harmed by normal weapons. It requires magic (weapons or spells) or, of course, silver to damage them. Silvered weapons aren't too hard to come by in your typical BX setting, heck they're on the standard equipment lists along with things like wolfsbane (we'll get to that), but not every weapon has an argent version. By the book, only daggers and arrows are available this way. I have had players do things like melt down silver pieces into sling bullets and coat crossbow bolt tips with the metal, but I usually draw the line at things like silvered swords and the like. It's not that the metal is so expensive, it's that the process won't hold that much of an edge. I did once see a player at a con have his cleric use a silver candelabra as an impromptu blunt weapon, though. Magic weapons and "battle" spells are pretty obvious, as that +2 Axe or Lightning Bolt spell is going to work against most any critter you use it against.

Aconitum napellus, or Wolfsbane, is an interesting bit of folklore that was added to the monster listings. I've discussed it in more detail in the previously linked blog post, but the idea that one can drive the were away without killing it, coupled with a werewolf's low morale lends itself nicely to the idea of the creature being driven away by the superstitious peasantry and remaining at large for an extended period; perhaps over several nights, months, or years?

Moving on. All lycanthropes can summon their mundane counterparts. So werewolves can summon regular wolves, wereboars normal boars, etc. Having 1 or 2 wolves show up to the fight a few rounds later might knock some PCs off balance a bit.

Werewolves are particularly nasty foes because they tend to run in packs. In groups of five or more, there is an "alpha" with an extra HD and a damage bonus plus the normal summoned wolves to pad the ranks. 2-12 werewolves with 1-2 wolves each means a lot of fangs running around underneath a full moon.

And their hair was perfect! 

Lastly, I should mention the disease of lycanthropy itself. There are a few interesting things about it. First of all, there is no save! If a character takes more than half their hit points in a fight with a were-creature, they are infected. Secondly, it only fully manifests in humans. It just flat-out kills demi-humans! Granted, humans or otherwise have a little time before the disease takes full effect (one way or the other) and can seek out an 11th+ level cleric to cure them of the disease. This is doubly interesting because A) Cure Disease is a third level spell, which a cleric would have access to by sixth level. B) There isn't anything specific about an eleventh level cleric's abilities that seem to jibe with this power. No access to new spell levels and they were already name level. So why 11th? The only thing about this particular level cleric that I see is that is where they reach the highest tier on the Turn Undead table (11+) and can automatically Destroy any undead up to Vampires. I would say it's because lycanthropy is a magical disease, infecting one via a magical creature, but mummies' rotting disease is curable by the spell. I expect it was probably a case of where the Expert rules were assumed to be going to have something for it when Basic was released, but things got tweaked after the first book was published.

Curious Objects: Medallion of ESP

3 copper pieces if you know where that image is from!

Miscellaneous magic items (MMIs) are always an interesting read, as they cover what I consider the really "magical" part of magic items. Magic weapons or armor are usually just combat boosts, and scrolls or wands are mostly more spell slots. But MMIs? The sky's the limit. They might be boots or bags, musical instruments or jewelry, who knows? And who knows what they'll do? Sometimes their powers are passive, sometimes they have only a few uses. Often their abilities come with a price or a twist.

Case in point is the Medallion of ESP. This is an especially weird entry as there are two versions of it: The 30' range one in Moldvay, and its 90' cousin in Cook. Let's start with Basic, shall we?

The medallion has no charges or limited uses per day. It merely requires a round of concentration and limits what the wearer can do while concentrating (no fight, no spells). One need not be a spell-caster to use it, either. It should be mentioned that its effective range is shorter than the spell's, but its duration is limited solely by concentration.

This item's fun tidbit is that it malfunctions 1 in 6 times, causing the reverse effect and broadcasts the wearer's thoughts to everyone within 30'! I find that very funny and with great plot twist potential. This also ties in neatly with my ideas on magic having a cost.

The Expert rules add a second version of the medallion. This one with a 90' range. It's description is also somewhat different. This one merely mimics the 2nd magic user spell with the slightly farther range (90 vs 60'). This is interesting for two reasons. One, it's not only replicating a spell, it's improving upon it. Secondly, it puts me in mind that the basic version could be seen as a sort of a "flawed prototype" with less power and with some bugs in the system. I don't know why, but that just seems very "BX" to me.

Moldvay Musings IX: Pursuit and Evasion

Looking over some of the responses to the last post, where I talked a bit about wandering in the wilderness, it seems that people find rules explanations useful. So I thought I'd take a whack at a couple of BX rules that seems to generate confusion for some: Pursuit and Evasion.

In Basic, the pursuit rules are simply what happens when one side of a (potential) fight runs and the other gives chase in a dungeon. Obviously if the PCs are one of the sides, and the faster of the two, chances are what happens is whatever the PCs want to happen (they catch up, they let them go, etc.). 

Here's a basic scenario for pursuit and how it would break down. Unlike the last time, I've already rolled it out and know what happened, so I can provide step by step maps.

Dungeon Chase-

The Setup: A band of brave(ish?) adventurers have entered a dungeon. They open a door and step into the room to discover a pack of orcs. 

Round 1: Surprise rolls are made and both sides roll 2s. The PCs and orcs stare stupidly at one another for a moment.

Round 2: Initiative is rolled. The orcs get a 5 and the PCs a 6. The orcs' reaction roll is a 5 indicating they are hostile and will probably attack.

The party doesn't like the look of all those snarling tusks and decides to beat a hasty retreat. They use their running speed for movement (60'), which gets them to the corner turn in the hallway.

The orcs take off after them. The monsters have a move of 120' so they can catch the PCs if they want, but the party's magic-user cleverly tossed a pouch of coins on the ground behind him as they fled. There is a 50% chance the orcs will stop for the loot and it turns out they do (I rolled a d6. Odds they ignored it, evens they stopped. I rolled a 4).

Round 3: The PCs move another 60' and reach the outside and daylight. The DM rules that since the wizard dropped the whole pouch and didn't scatter the coins, it only took the one round for the orcs to retrieve it. They run down the hall and see the PCs out in the sunshine. The DM rules that the orcs don't like the idea of fighting in the daylight and break off pursuit.

Now, there were a lot of things that could have happened differently there, but that gives you a short & sweet version of it. If it had been an unintelligent creature, like a giant lizard or some such, the party might have dropped food instead of treasure to distract it.  

Wilderness Pursuit-

The scale of wilderness pursuits makes mapping it less useful. The rules themselves favor a more abstract method as well. In a nutshell, if one group is surprised and the other is not, the latter may automatically avoid the encounter: remember the wilderness random encounter distances are 40-240 yards! If a group that did not surprise the other wants to avoid an encounter, and the second group isn't having any of that nonsense, then the Evasion Table on X23 is used. The DM is encouraged to make ad hoc rulings for factors like terrain, speed, or whatever is deemed relevant.

Example:

A group of four PCs and their three hirelings are traveling in the forest when they spot a group of 10 gnolls though the trees. The DM rolls for encounter distance and gets 100 yards as a result. Neither side is surprised (they spot one another simultaneously) and the gnolls seems hungry. The party decides this is a fight they'd rather avoid and flee deeper into the foliage. 

The party has 7 people total, the gnolls 10. This gives a 70% base chance of losing their pursuers. The DM also rules that the tree cover is thick enough to grant a +10% bonus (it would have been higher, but the gnolls' are keen-nosed). This gives the party an 80% chance of success. The dice are rolled and come up 44! The party spends a tense several minutes fleeing into cover and waiting for the gnolls to lose interest. 

If the odds weren't as favorable, the party could have upped their chances by splitting up, as smaller groups are more likely to evade bigger ones.

Had the party failed the roll, the gnolls would have closed the distance and -if faster than the PCs- had a 50% chance to force an encounter (using the PCs from the dungeon example, the gnolls are faster with 90'). If the gnolls fail to force the encounter, the party could attempt to evade again, but their direction is random and they cannot map. This process continues until:

1. The party successfully evades or stops trying to run.
2. The gnolls successfully catches them.
3. The gnolls give up the chase.

There are no specific rules for time increments in a wilderness pursuit, though the text mentions the possibility of a chase continuing for "several days." I feel like there must be something in the books (there usually is), but I don't see it. If I were to run such a situation, I would say each evasion attempt takes an hour, giving the abstract nature of moving through terrain, hiding, looking for signs of one's quarry, etc.

So the next time your group decides to exercise the better part of valor and skedaddle from certain doom, or decides to chase down those wascally kobolds, hopefully this will help clarify a few things. 

Moldvay Musings VIII: Into the Wild

I had written a longer, more rambling post that bounced between general thoughts on resource management to critiquing how such rules are often applied in-game. After looking over that train wreck of text, I opted to delete most of it and start over with a simple walkthrough of overland travel rules as sort of a Random Encounter Fun (REF) entry, but with a little more focus on rules instead of a specific critter.

A lot of players (and more than a few DMs) complain that tracking every little thing can be tedious. I find the main issue players have is that they fail to plan well before the actual adventuring begins, and DMs fail to take some of the factors that will matter into account when they plan the session.

There is a terrific example of an expert level party preparing for an overland journey on page X19. If the players know that you (the DM) will be having them track resources consistently, and you as DM are keeping track of time, then it can all flow fairly smoothly. It's really just a question of organization and some minimal prep.

Here's an example of what I mean by minimal. This is a map I made in about 5 minutes on the computer. It's all I need to run an overland adventure with the rules in the book. I've set no fixed encounters. If I wanted, I could include several days' worth of weather for added detail. All rolls in this example will be recorded as they happen. As of writing these words, I don't know how this will play out.

The premise? A party of four PCs start in the village. They have heard rumors that the wizard Examplo the Mad is likely dead and his evil tower to the Northeast is ripe for the pickings. To get there, they must traverse the Spooky Forest and the Haunted Hills. They know it's about 40-50 miles.

There is no road, which means A) slower travel times, and B) they would be wise to seek out a map or guide. Sadly, our heroes are more bold than wise and decide they merely need to steer NE and they'll get there eventually. They do have enough sense to buy rations for two weeks apiece (x 4  = 56 days) plus bedrolls, tents, and a mule to carry most of the extra gear. Under these conditions, the PCs can travel 12 miles per day on open ground (Their slowest member moves at 60'). The DM also decides to only roll for encounters once per day and once per evening's rest. 

Day 1: The land outside the village is open grasslands with trails made by trappers and woodcutters leading to the woods. The DM rules no problem, the path negates the chance of getting lost. The PCs camp that night just inside the forest. There are no grassland or forest encounters (52 days' of food left).

Day 2: The trails don't go far into the forest, so now the PCs (lacking a map, guide, or personal knowledge of the terrain) need to rely on their own senses of direction. They are also moving slower (2/3 normal rate for wooded terrain = 8 miles a day). For simplicity, we'll call it (very) roughly 1.5 hexes. 

The DM rolls a d6. On a 1-2, the party takes a wrong turn. Uh-oh, a 2! Rolling again, the die comes up a 4, so the party heads NW, all the while THINKING they're heading NE. The trouble is already beginning! They camp again. Luckily, the encounter gods are with them yet again. They have no trouble that day or that night. (48 days' food remaining)

Day 3: Another roll vs getting lost. A 3 means they stay on course. Mind you, they still think NW is NE. Since they are still deep in the Spooky Forest, they have no landmarks to set them aright. More bad news as an encounter comes up for the their night's rest. A 2 (flyer) and an 11 for woodland encounters means sprites! The DM rules that the quiet little clearing where the PCs have unknowingly bivouacked is quite near the lair of 22 sprites. A reaction roll of 9 lists as "leaves or considers offer." Now normally I'd say that would be the end of it, but sprites love their pranks so I don't think they'd let the PCs go scot free. The DM decides that the little jokers pull the mule's picket and then spook the poor beast.  While the PCs chase it down, the sprites steal 11 days worth of food (one half per sprite) from the saddlebags. The PCs eat their dinner and try to rest (33 days' left, leaving a week for each of them).

Day 4: Another travel roll yields a 1. Lost again! Direction roll is a 3. Two wrongs make a right and they're back on track, heading NE again! Their luck doesn't hold though. A wandering encounter roll during their days' travel comes up an 8: Dragon! "Luckily" it's not a REAL dragon, just a puny ELEVEN-HEADED HYDRA!

plus four more heads

Now, I'm not going to roll out a whole combat here, but it's probably not unfair to say that there are pretty good odds of four measly PCs getting their collective lunches handed to them here. And so, our noble heroes meet their fates in the Spooky Forest, never reaching the wizard's tower. If they had only had a guide or map, they might have avoided such a fate. Or not, random encounters be nasty!

There, now. That wasn't so hard, was it?

The BX setting (part 3)

OK, I am wrapping this up. Seriously!

To finish up my musings about settings for a setting representative of the Basic/Expert game, I wanted to touch on just a few more topics: Resources, Risks, and Rewards.

Resources

For me, and many grumpy old-schoolers, managing your resources is no small part of classic D&D play. Heck, I even created products specifically to make it easier to incorporate into tabletop play. Rules like encumbrance, searching times, movement rates, and light source duration all lead to some real cost/benefit decisions being made: Do we take the time to search every room? How many torches did you bring? Do we hire someone to carry our extra stuff?

Now all these sound more game mechanics-related than setting, but bear with me. A BX world is a place where not only do decisions like those above matter, they matter because it's a world where dungeon crawls are a relatively common thing. Ancient labyrinthine ruins, extensive subterranean caves, mysterious catacombs, they practically flourish in a BX world. Of course this is true for many other versions of D&D, too. The point is the characters live in a world where someone, at some point, decided that it was a good idea to carve out an underground lair that looked like this.

There are weird, even zany places in a BX world. Maybe they are ancient ruins or a mad wizard's tower, but those that decide to brave those places prepare for mapping long corridors, regular booby traps, hidden passages, and foul monsters lurking around corners. Which brings us to...

Risks

Whether it's claw, sword, or spell, PCs face most of their risks in combat. The BX world is one where monsters are real and your character is going to have to fight for his life at some point, if not many times. A BX world allows for the possibility of a dragon flying over your head as you travel the King's Road or for a hill giant to be walking down a city street! This is a fantasy world. 

That being said, most of these creatures are monsters, not NPC or PC "playable" races (BtB at least). But "monster' does not always equal "enemy." A decent reaction roll and the appropriate language slot can result in parley or even friendly communication. 

Combat can be de-emphasized and other aspects of play can be focussed upon, but by default at least the threat of violence is deeply ingrained into a D&D setting. What can give this a more "BX feel?" Well, BX is a fairly lethal flavor of D&D. PCs tend to be fragile with their lower hit dice and -by the book- 0 hit points being dead. Even mid to high level PCs can be killed fairly easily, and morale rolls can lead to the better part of valor being exercised by monster and hireling alike. Compare that to some of the later versions of the game and you can easily picture a world where life can be a bit cheap and those that live by the sword are likely to pick their battles carefully as well as try to squeeze every advantage out of a situation. And once the battle is over, they will be sure to get as much of the spoils as possible to offset the risks.

Rewards

XP for GP. That brief statement tells me this is a world where its inhabitants gain influence and become more competent by getting as much as they can for as little risk as possible. It's not the slaying of the monster, it's the treasure it was guarding. A BX world is a place where foul humanoids have piles of loot stolen from victims or looted from old castles they now infest. Half-rotted coin pouches lie among the bones in the lairs of terrifying trolls and gigantic spiders. And that axe of antique design wielded by the bugbear chieftain? It has a +2 enchantment on it. 

This is a world of coin-filled coffers and magic swords. Of scrolls containing mystic spells or treasure maps. Of idols with a single ruby eye the size of a golf ball. Of dragon hoards, staves of power and magical rings. The DM may not wish to flood his world with  magic items but in a BX world, such things exist and even leaving it to the random treasure charts the PCs will encounter at least some of them. 

Assuming the characters live long enough, it's also a world where lowly murder-hobos and would-be heroes might accrue enough wealth, fame, and connections to become lords (and ladies) of the land themselves. It's not a place where everything is 100% fixed sociopolitically. Maybe there are wars, or dynastic struggles, or rebellions and invasions. Maybe there are young nations that are still growing. The point is even if your PC started as a turnip farmer, he could one day be a knight in a keep with a fiefdom of his own to rule.

Wrapping Up

What does all this mean? Have I answered the question? Well, no. probably not. But I don't think that it's a question that can be answered definitively. What I do think I've accomplished is to work through some concepts of what I think a setting should or shouldn't have to be a good fit for Moldvay/Cook. 

And maybe it's done a bit that for you, too.