Art & Quintessence

 I don't normally blog about artwork specifically. Mostly because I am far from an expert in the matter. I can't draw, I never studied art history or composition, and I'm not a fan of brie (gallery joke). However, I do know when a piece says something to me.

Ah, Daredevil! The best of the MCU.

 

So I'd like to take a moment to share a picture I had bought a print of nearly ten years ago at Garycon and recently unearthed while sorting through some boxes of old comics and such. It's a limited print by Mark Allen who drew the map of Lesserton for our Faster Monkey product, Lesserton & Mor. 

Now, this is by no means a unique sort of scene in fantasy gaming art. We have a party of adventurers looting some dead orcs while trying to open a door. It's practically off the cover of the Players Handbook. What I want to focus on is how effectively this simple image captures the essence of old-school gaming for me.

First off, the setting. It's dark. I don't mean Zack Snyder dark, I mean it looks like the characters can hardly see. There are four points of light within the picture and the rest is shrouded in gloom. The first two are the lanterns, one on the floor and one held so the thief can work. The third is out of frame, just beyond the cleric who stands guard. Perhaps a light up ahead around the corner? The fourth is the eye of giant spider as it sneaks up on the dwarf. The rest of the scene is almost pitch black, with just enough details visible to let us fill in the rest. 

Next, the characters. I've already mentioned some of them, but the composition of the party is nigh-perfect for representing an old-school D&D group of adventurers. There is a Gandalf-esqe magic-user complete with staff and pointy hat. We have our hooded thief, working away at the lock, and a fighter type whom I like to imagine by his somewhat generic appearance to be a man at arms/hireling, fulfilling his role as a torchbearer. There is a stalwart templar-looking cleric with mace and mail, a dwarf with a hefty axe eyeballing the dead orcs (perhaps making sure none are still twitching), and an elven archer lifting a bauble from a corpse. There's a spill of coins on the floor as well.

Obviously, part of the picture's story is easy to see. The party had a fight with some orcs and was victorious. But why are two of the party guarding and why isn't the dwarf watching the stairs? The magic user is speaking, is he casting a spell or admonishing the thief to hurry? Perhaps the party is in a hurry to get through the door and the immediate threat would come from in front or to the right and that's why the dwarf is distracted. True to adventuring form, though, they aren't leaving without at least some of the loot.

Another viewer could be perfectly justified in reading the scene in an entirely different way, and that's fine. But like most art, that's a strength, not a weakness. When I look at this picture, I see a scene whose essence has played out thousands of times at various kitchen tables and conventions over the decades. So when I think about how to sum up the core ideas of classic D&D and fantasy gaming, I believe you could do much worse than to hold up this picture and say "This. This is worth a thousand words."

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 5, werebears)

Now we come to the final entry among the were-critters: the Werebear. I've written about normal bears before. The were version is a fair bit tougher, stat-wise. In fact, they're closer to cave bears.

Werebears (from Moldvay):

AC: 2 (8 for humans)
HD: 6*
Move: 120' (40')
Att: 2 claws/1 bite
Dmg: 2d4/2d4/2d8
No. App: 1d4 (1d4)
Save: F6
Morale: 10
AL: N

If provoked, these creatures are pretty dangerous. Their armor and morale are quite respectable. In addition to their normal 3 attacks, they can hug for an additional 2d8 damage if they hit with both claws. That's potentially 4d4 + 4d8 damage to a victim in a single round! That's an average of 28 points of damage. Even if that doesn't kill a foe, it could easily set them up for lycanthropic infection; even a name level fighter (9HD) only has an average of approximately 30-40 hit points.

As formidable as they are on the lycanthrope ladder, werebears in D&D are interesting for being the only ones listed as potentially friendly. They are also described as "very intelligent, even in animal form." This is taking a pretty far step from the raging beast within stereotype of things like "Wolfman" movies, etc. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if a lot of the inspiration for this particular -ahem- "skin changer" came from someplace else.

hmmmm. What could it be?

To be fair, there is a rich tradition of shape-changing bears in Native American folklore, too. I can't help but think that Beorn is at least part of this monster's origin, though.

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.

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.

RMA: Efreeti (Lesser)

A little while back, I talked about djinn. Specifically summoning them with a magic ring. Today I want to talk about their fiery counterparts, the Efreet.

Right off the bat, I should mention a small thing that I can't help but speculate over: both the djinn and efreet listed in the BX monsters are labeled as "Lesser" varieties of their respective types. Were Greater versions ever presented in classic D&D? Perhaps in a module? If anyone knows, I'd love to hear! I assume, since they are both elemental types, this is a callback to the differences between "staff" and "conjured" fire/air/earth/water/elementals. Perhaps a topic for another day?

Moving on, specifically about our smoldering subject, let's look at the stats.

Efreet (Lesser) from Cook:

AC: 3
HD: 10
Move: 90' (30')
Fly: 240' (80')
Att: 1
Dmg: 2d8 (+1d8 fire)
No. App: 1 (1)
Save: F15
Morale: 12
Treasure: nil
AL: C

We can see that efreeti are a bit more powerful than their airy nemeses. Better AC & HD. Better saves and damage, too. In addition to their basic stats, they have an assortment of powers.

"Efreet can create objects, create illusions, and turn invisible
like djinn. They are also able to create a wall of fire up to 3 times
per day. An efreeti may transform its body into a pillar of flame that
will set fire to all flammable items within 5 feet. They can retain the
flame shape for 3 rounds maximum. The fire will also do an additional
1-8 points of damage to all creatures struck by the efreet.
They may fly and carry up to 10,000 en weight while flying."

So a bigger, scarier version of a djinn, right? The wall of fire and the pillar of flame thing are impressive in a fight, but not that much more dangerous, To me, the key part of this creature lies in its description's final paragraph:

"Efreet can be summoned by high level magic-users who 
have researched the special spells required. Once summoned, 
Efreet can be forced to serve for 101 days. They are reluctant and difficult 
servants and will obey their instructions exactly, attempting to distort the 
meaning of whatever they have been told to do in order to cause trouble for 
their masters. Efreet hate Djinn and will attack them on sight."
(emphases mine)

Firstly, I really like spell research call-out. It expressly says "Sure this is possible, but it's not your run of the mill magic item or spell slot." Next, the built-in animosity of an efreet servant reminds me of spells like Contact other Plane or Spiritwrack and dealing with "allies" that are not squarely on your side. Following instructions exactly is reminiscent of wishes, too (X59).

What's interesting is that the description says that efreeti "hate" djinn and will attack on sight, but there is no mention in the djinnis' description of how they feel about efreeti. It's worth noting the alignment. Efreet are chaotic, whereas djinn are neutral. One can imagine a great deal of fodder for world-building in that. Perhaps there is some ancient hatred stemming from an interplanar war? Maybe a trip to the City of Brass would yield some answers?

RMA: Lich

Honestly, what other image would do?

Okay, the lich isn't exactly obscure,  nor is it a B/X monster. It does appear in the Rules Cyclopedia and the Advanced Edition Companion though, so close enough. It is also certainly an uncommon occurrence in most adventures, as they are one of the nastiest pieces of work out there.

Rather than a typical RMA where I go down through the stats and description (though I'll do some of that too), I'd like to look a bit more closely at what role the lich fulfills in a game.

Now, in terms of raw stats, the lich is quite respectable. That's not what a lich is all about, really. Let's get the numbers out of the way though, so we have them for ready reference.

Lich (from AEC)

No. Enc.: 1 (1)
Alignment: Neutral (evil)
Movement: 60' (20')
Armor Class: 0
Hit Dice: 12+
Attacks: 1 (cold touch)
Damage: 1d10 cold damage
Save: M18+
Morale: 9
Hoard Class: XXII

XP: 4,400

OK, so good AC & HD, nasty cold damage, undead abilities, crazy saves, etc. etc. But that's not what makes the lich so terrible. Reading on into the description:

A lich is an undead magic-user of at least 18th level (and possibly multi-classed) who has used its magical powers and a phylactery to unnaturally extend its life.

A minimum 18th-level spell caster where the GM can take time to plan their spells. That's scary! Still, read on:

Liches are only vulnerable to attack by creatures of 6 HD or more (or creatures of a magical nature), magical attack forms, and they are unaffected by non-magical weapons.

So only magic or big monsters can physically hurt them. Also scary, but not really the point. What else?

 In addition to having undead immunity to charm and sleep, liches are immune to the following spells or forms of damage: cold-based and electrical- based attacks, death spells, enfeeblement, polymorph, and any effects that cause insanity.

Lots of immunities. Sounds like demons and devils. This thing is looking harder and harder to kill. But wait! There's more!

A lich may attack by spell, or with a cold touch attack that deals 1d10 hp damage. Victims must also save versus paralyze or become paralyzed permanently, unless magically cured. Finally, all beings with 4 or fewer HD that see a lich will be affected with fear, and no saving throw is permitted.

Yup. Permanent paralysis and a no-save fear effect. All this and a few other odds and ends (depending upon which version you are using) adds up to a formidable, but not unstoppable, opponent. So why so scary? Well, a few things.

First of all, the lich –like dragons or senior demons– are not random encounter fodder. Not only should they be planned encounters, they are often the keystone of entire campaigns! To quote the Rules Cyclopedia entry:

Liches are master villains, coordinating armies and spy-networks made up the undead. Each one has its own goal: One may want to achieve true Immortality, one may serve an evil Immortal of Entropy, one may wish to transform the entire world into a horrid playground for the undead. Each lich in a campaign should have its own name, style, and motivation.

 In other words, think about it a bit before placing one of these things in your world. What does it want? What steps has it taken thus far? What precautions has it taken?

Precaution-wise, liches are likely to have whole legions of minions –undead or otherwise. Not to mention fortifications, hidden lairs, magical wards, etc. Plus, while it's not actually stated overtly in the rules, the implication is that the phylactery is necessary to keep existing in its undead state and if it were destroyed, the lich would die too. If the phylactery endures, the lich may return even if it's body is "killed."

Certainly this is how I've seen it played out or referred to in later gaming texts. Of course, locating the phylactery is often the point of major quests. Much like getting the One Ring to Mt. Doom, the horcru– I mean phylactery!– must be found and destroyed to end the lich's schemes.

The lich's plans may have been centuries in the making. GMs' default assumptions should be that the lich would have thought of something as a precaution against nearly any plan the PCs might cook up. Their lairs will be fortified, guarded, and probably trapped. Not to mention the lich may be willing to play a longer game; even lose a fight to fool the PCs into thinking they've won!

Liches' master plans should be epic in scope, like the examples above; taking over the world, becoming a god, etc. A lich isn't going to stoop to hanging around some dungeon guarding a chest of coins.

PCs should have plenty of chances to learn of the lich's existence before getting anywhere near it. That said, if they do barge ahead and bash in the gates without truly preparing for the fight, then they shouldn't be surprised when they find themselves rolling up new characters for the following session!

Random Encounter Fun! (REF)

Let's build an encounter!

For giggles, I'm going to try and take a truly random monster and build as interesting a "set-piece" encounter as I can, more or less within the Rules As Written (RAW).

I think I'll try a wilderness encounter for greater randomness. In Cook Expert, there are ten "terrain types": 

1. Clear/Grassland
2. Woods
3. River
4. Swamp
5. Barren/Mts./Hills
6. Desert
7. Inhabited
8. City
9. Ocean
10. Jungle

Let's start slinging some polyhedrons!

So we'll just roll a d10 and see what we get. 

roll, roll

A two! That's "Woods."

Next up, let's roll a d8 for the monster.

roll, roll

A five! That's "Unusual." Oooo! This could get fun.

Now it's off to the Unusual Subtable. That's a d12.

roll, roll

Four! "Displacer Beast." Neat!

Off we go to the monster listings.

We have 1-4 of them (roll, roll). A four! Getting scary!

Okay, they have six HD. What I'm going to do is roll twice for hit points, they larger of the two totals is for the pack leader, the other three each get the smaller total.

roll, roll

25 & 27

So we have a leader with 2 more hit points than the other three. 

They have treasure type D, so let's figure out their loot.

roll, roll, roll, roll, roll, roll

• 3,000gp
• Shield +3 (Wow!)
• Potion of Speed
• Potion of Invisibility

Not a bad haul.

Okay, so ten minutes of rolling and scribbling later, we've got a handle on what we're dealing with. Now let's make the encounter FUN!

Backstory: 

(This is the sort of stuff that fills my head instead of sport scores and getting work done!)

A pack of four displacer beasts live in the forest. At some point in the past, a young knight and his squire were traveling through the woods. Sir Bannon had only recently won his spurs. He was charged with safely delivering a payment from his lord to another nobleman in the next province. The knight and his squire were attacked. The squire and the pack horse were killed. Sir Bannon's horse bolted. Since he was using his great-sword (2H), his shield was on the packhorse. It was a family heirloom from his grandfather's time and bears the family crest. 

The beasts dragged the bodies (with the saddlebags) back to the lair, devouring the horse & boy. The goods are still intact and tumbled in among the gnawed bones. In the saddlebag with the coin is a letter charging Sir Bannon with delivering the cash.

Between losing the money, the magic shield, and appearing to run, Sir Bannon was disgraced. He is now a shell of his former self and badly in debt to his lord. If the PCs were to recover his shield and/or the money and return them to him, they would gain a true friend among the gentry.

Tactics:

The beasts are quite cunning, if not actually "intelligent." They not only use their displacement power, they take advantage of the forest's undergrowth and the trees for cover and ambush. They also prefer attacking under cover of darkness when possible (see below). A favored tactic is to hide in the middle branches and strike their victims from above with their tentacles. They also sometimes lower themselves with their tentacles, attacking with teeth and claws* then pull themselves back up into the canopy again. 

The beasts also move through the branches from tree to tree. This affords them good cover and concealment while stalking their prey.

Small targets (halfling-sized or smaller) might be hauled up into a tree with a tentacle and killed in the branches, then the displacer beast takes its prize back to the lair. They are also intelligent enough to double back on themselves and take to the trees occasionally to make tracking them back to their lair quite difficult. They feel no need for a standup fight. The pack is perfectly happy trailing a group for days, picking them off one or two at a time or killing a horse and hiding until the group moves on, leaving the dead animal behind.

The beasts' territory extends for miles and it takes a group walking or riding through the dense forest at least a few days to get clear. Horses and the like grow hard to control when they scent the creatures (morale checks for mounts and DEX rolls to keep control of a spooked horse). If the party camps at night, the beasts may try to panic the picketed mounts into fleeing before fading back into the forest. That way they can hunt the horses down later one by one. The displacer beasts also love wear down their prey by hanging back from the camp at night, roaring and screaming and making enough noise to prevent the characters from resting (or regaining spells!). 

*The RAW only describe DBs as attacking with tentacles, but it says they resemble six-legged pumas. So, OPTIONALLY, you might give them some claw/bite attacks. As long as the damage and the number of attacks per round are the same, it shouldn't matter, balance-wise, and it would let them use their tentacles as prehensile limbs. Or, you can just run it as written.