"If I Roll a 1, I think it should hit the kid!"

Many years ago, not too far from the end of the Kastmaria Campaign.

Sascha the Archmage, Queen of Korocia was in her private study, attempting to unlock the mysteries of The Orb of Ithquaris. The Orb, an Artifact created by the god of magic himself, was a highly dangerous little toy. Intelligent, holding a potentially limitless power to Alter Reality and designed to eventually, permanently merge its own consciousness, with that of its wielder, the Orb could possibly, totally subsume Sascha's personality.

Sascha was holding her infant in her arms as she went about her studies.

Suddenly, Balston the Usurper, Dwarven King of Korocia, burst into his human queen's study, the Axe of the Dwarvish Lords in hand. He then proceeds to demand that his wife give up the highly unstable Orb.

Which, considering what the Axe was doing to him, was more than a little hypocritical. And considering that his wife was the most powerful Archmage in the world, it was also more than a little futile.

But, since his Int was all of a 7...

When married couples argue it can get messy. When both husband and wife are powerful personages, in a fantasy world, it can get dangerous. When this power couple is actually a pair of AD&D PC's, it can also get hilarious!

Sascha told her husband to go to hell!

Player/Balston to DM: "I throw the Axe at her!"

Player/Sascha: "I'm holding the baby!"

Player/Balston, smiling to DM: "If I Roll a 1, I think it should hit the kid!"

Me/DM: "Ok. Sounds good!"

The DM and all five players at the table, think this idea is funny as hell.

Me/DM: "Roll initiative!"

Balston wins, hurls the Axe and...

Rolls a bloody 1!

How perfect was that!

The Axe bites into the skull of the infant, killing it instantly. Sascha teleports out, as the Axe returns to the King.

Everyone laughs their asses off!

Sascha gets her son resurrected. There being a 20+ level PC Cleric in the party, whose god was the same as Balston's and had specific schemes in mind, regarding the young prince, made this a virtual fait accompli. 

It is, perhaps, worthy of note that there was never any question of the party bouncing back from this incident, even if Balston had killed Sascha, or vice versa. No one was trying to permanently remove anyone else's PC, from the game.

Hurling the Axe at his wife, was certainly something the Deranged King might do.

But Joey, who ran Balston, was far too excellent a player, to want to permanently remove a PC, which Rachel had invested some 4,000+ hours into running.

He would never have let "what my character would do," interfere with what we actual people were doing. He ran his PC, not the other way around. 

Re-imagining Iconic D&D Monsters - The Mind Flayer

James Maliszewski has sent another virus running through the Old School blogosphere:

This time, though, what I want to inspire are posts about how referees have re-imagined one or more iconic D&Dmonsters for use in their own campaigns.

My old Kastmaria campaign didn't feature psionics. At the time, I saw it as unneeded and decided to ditch it, wholesale. But, I really liked Mind Flayers...

So, wanting Illithids in my game and wanting them to be rather tough, I gave them Illusionist Spells.

Illithids may cast the following Illusionist spells, at will: Color Spray, Hypnotism, Darkness, Detect Invisibility, Improved Phantasmal Force, Hypnotic Pattern, Invisibility, Suggestion and Dispel Illusion.

2/day they may cast: Minor Creation, Phantasmal Killer, Shadow Magic, Spectral Force, Confusion and Mass Suggestion.

1/day they may cast: Prismatic Spray, Demi-Shadow Magic and Astral Spell.

Illithids are immune to 1st and 2nd level Illusions. They receive a bonus of +2 to any Saving Throws against other Illusion/Phantasm magics.

Today, I like Psionics. And the above, certainly isn't ground-breaking. But my players hated these guys and I had a lot of fun with them, way back when. Prismatic Spray is a Bitch!

Sunday Design Diary Update – Getting My Head Out of My Ass

I – In which I have delusions of grandeur.

The other day, I was having a telephone conversation with my closest friend, Darren B. I was telling him about my blog and the plans I was making for my upcoming D&D activities. Many years ago, Darren played Sir Alexian Balthafor in my Kastmaria campaign, which is the character I used to tell the tale  posted  in The Sign of the Blue Dragon: A Drop In Locale for your D&D Campaign. (there’s also a follow-up, here.) He hadn’t read the piece at the time and made the remark that he occasionally considered writing some stories using his old character and Kastmaria, but, he felt kind of funny about the idea, because Kastmaria was my world. I assured him that I wouldn’t have any issues with him doing so, and he replied “Yeah, that world was really a collaborative effort on all our parts, anyway. It was almost a subconscious thing.” I knew exactly what he meant, of course, and it’s an idea I’ve been thinking about, recently.

I talk a lot about the DM/Player synergy that develops in a well played game, but, during the past ten years, or so, the aspects of that idea which apply to world building kind of turned invisible in my mind. When 3e came out and I decided to update Kastmaria, I wanted to present an elaborately detailed campaign setting, one  which would awe my players and be worthy of publication; nay, be worthy of sitting upon a shelf beside The Forgotten Realms or World of Greyhawk boxed sets. Something with the depth and breadth of Middle-Earth, but, without the fictional language. I may have been naively over ambitious, but, I wasn’t going to try to go quite that far.

Thousands of hours of actual gameplay and DM design work had developed a lot of history and depth for Kastmaria, but, there were huge chunks of it still undeveloped. Almost the entire western portion of the continent was little more than a few vague notes. The players had never decided to go there, you see.

So, feeling like a poseur as a world designer, I set about updating the world to 3e and creating an encyclopedia, gazetteer, etc. I had very few notes from the original campaign; most of it was in my head. After getting my first draft  written out, I started running it, assured in the knowledge that my attention to detail and loving craftsmanship, as well as the history generated by a long-running campaign, would insure a rich, immersive experience for my players.

I had picked up a lot of bullshit ideas, in recent years, about story and the proper way to DM. I never ran a Railroad, but, I was using some ideas that didn’t facilitate Sandbox play very well, and between the approach I was taking, and the 3e oriented approach of my new playing group (after moving to a new city, I was playing with gamers I had recently met,) it was a far cry from the kind of games I used to run.

I wondered why lightening didn’t strike twice and my game didn’t have the same rich level of creativity as past campaigns.

II – A brief interlude from the past.

It was sometime around 1990 and I was sitting on Darren’s couch, jotting down some notes for our game which, would take place later that day. Darren and Joey were having a serious discussion about something D&D related. Then, Joey said something which caught my attention:

“I think James is the best DM in our group,” Joey said.

“I agree,” Darren replied.

I was a bit surprised, very flattered, and wasn’t sure that I agreed, at all. My friends were both very intelligent, creative people, and excellent DM’s themselves. It did a lot for my confidence and self-esteem, at the time.

I now know that I do disagree. Not to take anything away from myself, but, the truth is, that as a group, the six of us were able to find that special place where our combined imagination and creativity, created a synergistic experience that was more than the sum of its parts, giving birth to something magical. It is D&D at its best, and the well of magic we created was enough to sustain the campaign for over five years, during the first two or three of which, we would play between 12 and 18 hours each week. I don’t think I was a better DM than Darren or Joey, it’s just that as a DM, I had learned enough to allow room for the imagination of my players and they had learned enough to take advantage of that fact. Other factors are involved here as well. Most of us were close friends, each bringing our own unique individuality to the table. Doing something with people you love will enrich any experience.

III – Not to whine or anything, but, it’s part of the tale.

There were some other factors working against me as well. A little while after I began my 3e campaign, I developed Type II Diabetes, which went undiagnosed for a while. If you’ve ever had your blood sugar running over 400, you know how hard it can be to concentrate or think clearly in such a state. Then, the gods decided I needed another cross to bear. I developed Depression and an anxiety disorder. Getting out of bed was a herculean task; I damn sure didn’t feel like DMing. Or forcing myself to do the kind of work necessary for running a smooth 3e game. When you’re Depressed, you don’t want to do anything. Usually, I didn’t and relied on the skills I had learned over the years to run the game on the fly. Back in the day, I ran a lot of my sessions this way and often preferred DMing by the seat of my pants. But, this was not an easy task, when I could barely keep my head on straight and felt like crawling under a rock and dying. 3e is enough of a pain in the ass to run, when you’re prepared and feeling well. Sometimes, I pulled it off. Sometimes I didn’t. While my experiences DMing AD&D over the years did wonders for my self-esteem and helped form a positive aspect of my self-image, my experience while DMing 3e left me feeling as if I had lost yet another very important part of my life.

IV – Another walk down memory lane.

“The Cleric’s converted me to his religion. I worship… what’s his name again?”

His name was Kuekar. A lot of player’s have a favorite class and/or race. Joey tended to play Thieves or Dwarven Fighters. He played the best damned dwarf I’ve ever seen, and I was lucky that he was playing one in my campaign. Balston, whom I usually refer to as Balston the Usurper,  Balston Wizard-slayer, or, Balston Wizard-lover, was chaotic and more than a little deranged. Brian’s Cleric served a Barbarian Warrior god, which was right up Balston’s alley. The demi-humans in the campaign worshipped different aspects of the same divinities as the humans. I had originally planned that the dwarves worshipped a version of Metrane, a LG Deity of War, Honor, Chivalry and Protection. After Brian and Joey’s characters developed their new found attachment, and since we hadn’t yet figured out exactly where Brian’s character came from, the picture changed. Now, a group of barbarians lived in the Wolf  Mountains, near Korocia, the Dwarven Kingdom. Also, worship of a dwarven aspect of Keukar was prevalent amongst the inhabitants of Korocia and the barbarians and dwarves were allied. Balston’s “getting religion” had a major impact on the game, leading to the quest for The Axe of the Dwarven Lords (which was a very different thing than the DMG version) and Balston getting involved in the Dwarven Civil War, usurping the throne in the process. Later, he decided to betray his god, which took the campaign in yet another direction.

I don’t remember just how much of the backstory the players directly suggested in the instance related above, and how much was me working off of their ideas. I always took cues from the suggestions, actions and ideas of the players, either directly, or, working their ideas into the campaign. Their imagination was of paramount importance. If there was something in particular they wanted to experience, they would tell me, and I would make sure they did. Even when they didn’t relate it directly, with every conversation, every moment playing, every round of speculation the player’s engaged in, I would glean the information I needed, to know what they wanted, what excited them, what kinds of events to throw across their path, what sort of thing they would enjoy finding when they decided to go off and explore a new section of the map. My interaction with the players was often like an endless, Random Table, giving me ideas, a springboard for my imagination, and churning fresh creativity into the game, constantly.

When the player’s would ask a question about an undeveloped area of the world, they would throw in their own ideas and speculations, usually unsure as to whether or not I had an answer yet. After a brief discussion, I would make a decision, tying everything together neatly, hopefully so, anyway. A nice, DMy way of handling it, but, I wish I would have involved them in a more active way. Maybe even giving them each a little design homework. I’m not sure how many players would want to take such an active hand in things, but, I think the idea is worth further exploration.

V – Back to more recent times.

During my 3e days, I didn’t forget everything I had learned. Also, my state of health most definitely had a deleterious effect on my game. But a campaign world with so much already decided and set in stone, restricted the feedback and interaction I feel is important to the kind of game I want to play. Even if I’m willing to make changes, and alter the landscape, so to speak, the very existence of so much detail can curtail creativity and predetermines a lot of the in-game action. With the original Kastmaria campaign, I created a map, wrote down the political divisions (for the most part, having little more detail than the name,) made up some gods, and made a town, with  just enough detail of the surrounding area to get things started. And one organization, The Arcane Order. I now think I don’t quite need that much, but, I still like the idea of knowing what the world looks like.

VI – You Can’t Go Home Again.

So, my conclusion is, that Kastmaria’s days as an active campaign world are done. By using it in my 3e game, I foisted a played out world on my group, one in which too much history had gone down to let us create the experience of making it our world (I now remember my wife making the joking remark that I was handing them a Used World. I think it was a joking remark.) Not without letting go of that history and my feelings about the place, scrapping it all and going back to a village, dungeon, and surrounding wilderness. At that point, why use the same world at all? If I did what was necessary, it would, at most, only superficially resemble the previous incarnation. Way too much gameplay had taken place there, even with so much still undone, after the end of the original campaign. The world had a character all its own. The players, being new to the setting, were trapped in a world that wasn’t made for them. They could learn about it, come to appreciate it, even embrace it in the way a player might embrace Greyhawk or The Forgotten Realms. If, it was their cup of tea. Eventually. But it would never be a world made just for them, with their input, their needs in mind, their personality and gameplay helping to shape the very fundamentals.

I don’t mean to knock anyone who enjoys Greyhawk, or any other setting. Running  a well loved, famous campaign world can be special for DM and Players, alike. It’s a different experience, with a different approach. Adventuring in a world that is truly alive inside the imagination is the key, here, and it’s a fantastic experience, whether it’s a place like Greyhawk, known and loved by many, or, a place the players help nurture and create themselves. 

VII – So, where am I going from here?

A much more bare bones approach. I’m doing the world map. A hexmap of the starting area; a town, megadungeon, wilderness, a few other features. An idea of the nearby political divisions; a little more detailed than what the characters would know. Some basic background and history, a page worth, or so. A few gods, but, I’ll let the players design their own, if they want to. Or, import a divinity from elsewhere, if they so desire. The rest, we’ll flesh out during play. I’ll see just how far the players want to be involved in designing the setting. They can’t know everything, of course. If we’re talking, and the group thinks it’s a cool idea that a nearby country is a Magocracy, and a player wants to be a low level member of that  Magical Order, we can all flesh the idea out, even going into details of the hierarchy, etc. Of course, they won’t be privy to the knowledge that the Archmage is actually a secret worshipper of Orcus, or, that certain members are plotting a coup.

You can’t go home again, but, home is where the heart is. If I invite my players to make a creative investment in the campaign, maybe we can steal some fire from heaven and feel it burn.

Counter Revolution – Part II

So, I decided last week to run AD&D for my next campaign. I was tempted to go really Old School and run Swords & Wizardry, but, if I took that route, it wouldn’t be  so simple. There’s a lot of great material being produced by fans, not to mention the stuff they want $$$ for. Like this, for instance: Thief. This is from Beyond the Black Gate, one of my favorite blogs. Anyway, between what I’ve found on the net and the changes and additions I would make myself, I’m afraid it would end up looking a lot like, well, AD&D.

I could be ruthless and run the White Box version. But that one saving throw thing bothers me. Also, I understand the idea behind the max +1/-1 adjustment, it just doesn’t sit well with my sensibilities. I could get behind a +1 for 13 – 15 / +2 for 16 – 18 mechanic. But, if I go that far, well, I like the Thief, the Druid, and away we go, right back to AD&D. Or, at least, B/X. So, AD&D it is!

Now I just have to decide what campaign world to use. My original Kastmaria campaign ran for about five years. This was back when I was in my late teens to early twenties and had a lot more free time, as did my friends. So, for about the first three of those years, we would play two to three times a week, often for six to eight hours at a time; there was  closer to eight years or more worth of actual  playing time. Not only did I get to experience the fun of running a high level AD&D campaign, I also got to see my sandbox flesh out, transforming into a rich world, with history and depth. After that campaign, I ran another Kastmaria game that lasted about a year or so. Then, I shelved the world and went on to other places. Until 3e, and Sorcerers.

At the end of the first campaign, a long term plan set in motion by Ithquaris, the divinity of Magic, came to fruition. The purpose was to increase the capacity for magic-use in the inhabitants of the world, creating beings with inborn magical ability. Sorcerers. When 3e came out, with the Sorcerer Class, I decided it was time to dust of my old notebooks and update the campaign to the new edition. The timeline was set several hundred years after the last campaign ended and The Gift of Ithquaris had a profound effect on the subsequent history of the world. There were still fewer Sorcerers than Wizards, but, their numbers were increasing. As were the number of other creatures who were manifesting spontaneous magical abilities. Then there were the Bards. Here’s the entry from the Kastmaria Encyclopedia – 3e edition:

Bards – Centuries ago, the isle of Aldhuine hosted several Bardic Colleges, which were tightly allied with the Druids of Aldhuine. After The Dragon was transformed, the druids withdrew their support and banished the bards, along with almost all humans and demi-humans who weren’t true druids. Only the Wood Elves were allowed to continue living in their ancestral forests. The bards wandered Kastmaria, occasionally taking apprentices, but without a central college and staff of instructors, the quality of the new bards began to deteriorate. As the bardic lineages were at the point of disappearing, a few of the inheritors of The Gift of Ithquaris began to take an interest in Bardic Lore. They discovered that their talent for sorcery was a perfect medium to express the musical power of the bards and several young sorcerers began seeking out the few remaining bards of old, to learn their music and lore. Today, bards are still relatively rare, but there is a thriving modern tradition, composed of semi-secret brotherhoods of sorcerous musicians who pass their occult lore onto others with the talent and inclination to learn the ways of this ancient tradition reborn.

All tying very neatly into the 3e mechanics.

The whole Gift of Ithquaris thing actually runs so far back into the history of the campaign, that unless I want to create an AD&D Sorcerer class, which I don’t, it’ll be quite a headache. Back in the day, I experimented with creating a spell point system. I’m over that; I like Vancian casting. So, if I don’t want to create an AD&D sorcerer, my options are limited.

I can reboot the whole thing, jettisoning a lot of play and pre-play campaign history. As an aside, I wish that Wotc, if they just had to “fix” the Forgotten Realms, would have done a reboot. A better option than yet another edition changing apocalypse, not to mention offing Mystra and neutering Elminster.

Another option would be psionics. There’s a variant Psionicist class for AD&D that   was published in Dragon Magazine; also, I think the same issue had some ideas on making psionics a variant of magic. There’s a variant  Bard in the Dragon as well. The original campaign didn’t feature psionics, so, using the material from Dragon, and letting any other characters role for psionics, as usual, might allow me to continue with the original history.

If I go the reboot route, it would have to be so far reaching, that I think I would rather just create a new world. Or, run Greyhawk. Never ran Greyhawk.

Follow up to The Sign of the Blue Dragon, with some musings on Megadungeons

I wanted to post some more information concerning yesterday’s post, The Sign of The Blue Dragon: A Drop In Locale For Your D&D Campaign.

If Sascha and Father Lucas had been able to spend some more time deciphering the various writings on the walls of the Tavern, they might, at the DM’s discretion, have discovered some of the following:

1. The Tavern shifts through time, as well as dimensions.

2. The actual number of Prime worlds the Tavern visits is smaller than the chronicler whose words they were reading, thought. This is due to the Tavern visiting some worlds at different points in time. The true number is closer to 50. 

3. They didn’t get to the actual description of the dungeon level which the anonymous wizard explored. It was composed of a buried city, as if the buildings and infrastructure of the city had melded with a very large, crafted dungeon.  It was inhabited by demons, as well as a few other evil, outer planar beings. (The little map which was placed in the illustration is not an actual depiction of the dungeon level; it is an easter egg.)

4. There are a few adventurers who have figured out enough about the route the Tavern travels, that they sometimes brave using it on a regular basis. It is these parties who are responsible for keeping the place stocked with alcohol.

Originally, my idea of the genesis of the Tavern involved a failed attempt at creating a series of gates. I was never quite happy with that conception, but, as no party had ever dared remain inside for any length of time, I never had an impetus to revisit the idea, or develop the Tavern further. After reading Philotomy’s essay, The Dungeon as Mythic Underworld, I had a few other ideas.

The Tavern began its strange journey, when a group of adventurers stopped a Demon Lord from drawing several Prime Worlds into its layer of the Abyss. The Tavern was originally located at a point of entry of Abyssal Energies into one of these worlds. Through the use of Wishes, and similar magics, the heroes created a convergence of these points of entry, using the Tavern to tie them together and create a sort of  inter-dimensional plug, or lock, stopping the transformation process and ending the Demon Lord’s plans. Though they were mostly successful, the only way the heroes could find to bring their plan to fruition, was to sacrifice the world from which the Tavern came. The Tavern was sort of a Trojan Horse in this regard and when the Abyss swallowed that forgotten world, the magics built into the Tavern went into effect. Now, as an unforseen byproduct of the spells used to empower the Tavern, it constantly Plane Shifts to the various nexus points which form the connections between the Abyss and the worlds involved in the original conflict. This includes the world from which the Tavern originated, which is now a part of a vast dungeon inside one of the layers of the Abyss. Or, perhaps, this layer is really just one big Dungeon.

Several days ago, I read a blog post where someone mentioned the idea of The Mythic Underworld Dungeon spreading its tendrils throughout the Prime Material. Not sure who that was, so, if anyone reading knows, please drop me a comment so I can attribute and link.  Could this layer of the Abyss be the Ur-Dungeon? Or, perhaps, the as yet unnamed Abyssal Layer may be just a part of The Dungeon, which runs through all the evil aligned Outer Planes. Perhaps it is a demi-plane, burrowing its way into the various underworlds, as well as the Inner Planes.  If so, what dark god or fell power might be behind such an influential force?

Going back to the Tavern, there is a slightly different version of this locale that I have used in past campaigns. This is The Sign of the Angry Dwarf, which, in addition to the properties of the first version, also confers Protection From Evil upon anyone inside the Tavern.  I’m not sure if the two taverns are the same, but the latter version is sometimes frequented by a Dual-Class Thief 4/MU 2 named Giovanni Casanova, who may know the secret to controlling, or at least guiding, the Tavern’s journey.

Any comments, critiques or ideas furthering this material are most heartily welcome!

The Sign of the Blue Dragon: A Drop-in Locale For Your D&D Campaign.

Adapted from the diary of Sir Alexian Balthafore, Warlord of Triested, Knight of Metrane.
Entry dated the first week of the month of Delgor's Victory, 1357 A.R.

My companions and I were traveling west along the King’s Road, in Eitar; our destination being Tusk Tavern, the famous roadside Inn located three days travel east of the capital.  I had never been this far south before, but The Elf assured me that we were still a little over a day away from the comforts of the Tavern, so, I resigned myself to yet another night of sleeping beneath starry wonder. Balston, growing ever more freakish and inappropriately jovial since the Incident in the lair of the Duergar, was laughing uproariously at something Sascha had said, while The Elf and I were busily engaged in arguing over exactly where The Battle of Tusk Tavern had taken place. (About half a mile south of the actual tavern, or so I’ve been told.) So, it was the always quiet priest, Lucas, who first noticed the strange alehouse.

“Surely, we’re not here already,” he said, pointing to the building and sign-pole which had just become visible, as we rounded a bend in the well kept road which ran through the light woodlands like a quiet stream.

“That is not Tusk Tavern,” The Elf said, a touch of disquietude evident in his voice.

“No matter,” Sascha sighed, wiping some mud from the hem of her wizard’s robes. “As long as it’s warm and dry, we’ll settle for this place, for the nonce.”

No doubt, she and the dwarf would settle just fine. Balston could care less about who we were meeting at Tusk Tavern. Now that he had The Axe, I’m sure he was quite content to let me handle the more mundane tasks, like securing our allies and placing him upon the Dwarven Throne. Still, there was certainly no reason to turn down a little comfort, especially if the place had beds.

As we approached the building, the bend in the road leading us around to the clearing where the tavern squatted, like some great stone toad, I was duly impressed by the size of the place. Sixty to seventy feet in length, at least half that in width, single storied, with an old iron pole, standing out in front, from which hung a wooden placard, dark red in color, sporting an ophidian-like blue dragon with outspread wings. The building looked ancient, like ruins that hadn’t yet realized that they should begin to crumble.

“This place should not be here,” The Elf scolded.

“No, Tillian,” Balston patiently explained, “It should! I need a beer, so it definitely Should be here!”

Sascha laughed at her lover’s joke, and I wondered for the tenth time, whether or not her acceptance of the change in Balston’s behavior was genuine, or a sham, so that her dwarven lover might feel too self conscience to continue upbraiding her for her own dangerous toys.

I had to laugh at myself here. Balston was far too hot-headed to let a little hypocrisy interfere with his futile attempts to keep Sascha’s growing powers in check; also, no doubt, the brilliant wizardess had more effective ways of manipulating her stupid little ...

Gods, I’ve been traveling with these people way, way, too long.

We tethered our mounts, and I walked up the little path to the entrance of the building.

As I opened the grey wooden door which gave entrance to the tavern, my mind was pre-occupied with all these thoughts and more. I heard sounds of movement coming from inside the tavern, but that was hardly surprising. I opened the door, and saw four orcs; two behind the bar, one standing beside the fireplace which was far to the left, the other about twenty feet away, directly in front  of my current position.

“Orcs!”

I was already moving as I warned my companions, but not straight ahead. The orc who was hiding behind the opened door on my right had been betrayed by his smell, not to mention the sound of his obnoxious, tusk-mouthed breathing. I trusted my companions to watch my back as I whirled to the right and drew forth my sword, its dweomer-enhanced brilliance flashing in the darkened room, the sigils etched in the steel burning a yellowish-red; those sigils spat fire as I caught the sword of my attacker on my magically tempered blade, noticing at the same time, that this was the largest orc I had ever seen. I exerted my strength and drove his weapon upward, my prodigious speed and might granting me the time to force him back into the wall and drive my knee into his groin before he could counter. His strength left him and he dropped his weapon in agony and surprise; I sliced open his neck before his sword hit the ground.

Whirling around, I saw Balston, The Axe screaming in his hands, dispatch an orc with a single sideways blow, half slicing, half ripping the humanoid in half. I swear to Metrane, he giggled; I also noticed, for the first time, his eyes turn yellow. Sascha killed the last, using the little blue missiles I first saw her cast years ago, when she was just a young neophyte, new to the business of dealing death. I knew, of course that her serene, focused demeanor was just the action of her magical trance, but, I swear, if I wasn’t immune to fear, I think the sight of her so calmly engaged in the business of slaughter would scare me silly.

“Ha! By Kuekar that was fun! Just what I needed to build my thirst! Now, to slake it!”


“No doubt, the poor proprietor was slain by the orcs,” Sascha reasoned, following Balston to the bar. The dwarven warrior found a keg of something potable and began his quaffing.

“Mmm, not bad. Tastes kinda like that smooth, honey ale the gnomes brew, over in Nagan. Let me find ya a glass babe,” Balston exclaimed, slapping the wizardess’ behind as he moved past her to hunt under the bar for a cup.

It was then, that I and the others began to look around, deciding to pay attention to what the backs of our minds had registered while we were busy dealing with orcs and the rush of battle.

The walls were covered in writing. I mean, covered. In several different languages, using several different alphabets, and written by several different hands. Some of it looked more like math. None of the writing even resembled the languages with which I was familiar. I also noticed the large map, drawn upon a sheet of thin wood, which lay upon the floor of the tavern, near the bar. It was about six feet long, five feet wide, and depicted a dungeon, of all things, neatly painted, with all the familiar symbols and notes.

“Something is very wrong here,” The Elf complained.

“Yes, Tillian” Lucas reasoned, “But exactly what is that something? Other than the fact, that there are no orcs, this far south?”

“Sascha, can you read any of this?” I asked.

“Give me a moment to prepare.”

“Hey,” Balston said, ale dripping from his beard. “What’s with the map?”

While Sascha readied herself, we began looking around. The building was 55’ x 70’. Few items of interest were in the common area, though we did find a Scroll of Dispel Magic, laying amidst an odd assortment of more mundane items. Also a helm, which wasn’t magical, but was exceptionally well made. Inks, pens, an artist’s palette, chalk, and a few more unrecognizable writing utensils were present. The head of a young, Blue Dragon was mounted and hung on the wall. A small kitchen area was in the back, as well as a storage room with a trapdoor, which led to a small basement, containing wine, kegs of ale, a bed, a stack of books, and a small alter to an unknown divinity. We took the books, though we could not yet translate them. The alter was a simple affair of wood and cloth; the holy symbol was a simple geometrical shape, black with a white circle for the background.

 
“Alexian, get up here!”

The Damn Elf, again. We ascended the stairs. The Elf was fretting, and pacing about, while Sascha and Lucas were conferring with each other, discussing the various notes and scribbles which adorned the stone walls of the tavern.

“No, Lucas, see here? The wizard who wrote this was convinced that there was a larger pattern. That’s why he took a chance and left the tavern long enough to explore a level of the dungeon and make that map! It all comes back to the dungeon, somehow.”

“Dungeon? What Dungeon?”

“The map on the floor Balston,” Sascha said, pointing to the map and smiling at me from across the room.”

“Still,” Lucas said, in that stern, serious way of his, “We should probably be leaving right about now.”

“You guys want to explain all this?”

“The tavern travels between worlds, Alexian. It shifts, in some sort of weird pattern. According to the notes those people left behind, there’s at least 80 or 90 different places the tavern shifts to, remaining in any given location for a variable amount of time, usually somewhere between one to two days.”

“But not always, Sascha,” Lucas said. “Sometimes it shifts after only a few hours, sometimes it might remain in a single location for a week or more. None of this information is certain enough to bet on. We should leave, now.”

Sascha was ignoring the cleric, explaining to Balston how the dungeon tied in and that at every fifth stop, like clockwork, the tavern went back to the dungeon.

“Well,” said Balston, a smile upon his lips, “Looks like it’s time for another dungeon adventure!”

“No! We’re leaving now! We’re too damn close to go and throw everything away just because you want to go on an adventure!”

“Lighten up Alexian, we’ve got a little time. We’ll catch up with the Corswedan ambassador later. They need us more than we need them! This’ll be fun. I need a vacation, anyway.”

For about the hundredth time, I wondered at my insanity, for helping this insane little murderer try to usurp the throne of Korocia. The fact was, I needed him. I needed him to succeed. I needed Korocia to unite and enter the war on our side.

“No Balston, we’re going now! We’re going to Tusk Tavern, we’re going to meet the Ambassador from Corswede, we’re going to convince the elves to back us up magically and help us neutralize the Arcanists, and we’re going back to Korocia, so you can show off that Damn Axe, and let Kuekar order all his priests to back you against anyone who actually has a legitimate claim to Korocia’s throne, and we’re damn well doing so right now!”

Balston looked at me, I saw his grip tighten upon The Axe. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw The Elf back away, readying a spell. I heard Lucas behind me; he would try to help me, so long as I was still playing ball. If he thought I might actually kill Balston, he would try to immolate me in fire, or Plane Shift me to the Abyss; whatever it took to make sure Balston lived to fulfill Kuekar’s plan. Sascha, well, that was obvious. But, as I saw Balston’s eyes beginning to turn yellow, and his hair begin to turn white (wondering, at the time, what in the hell that could mean,) it was Sascha who came to my aid.

She began stroking the dangerous dwarf, whispering in his ear, caressing his neck and hands. I noticed it was working, he was beginning to calm down. With a motion of her eyes, she told me and the others to leave the tavern. We exited calmly, walking some way down the road, before stopping to wait for the rest of our party.
A few minutes later, Sascha and Balston came out, laughing and playing.

“Come on, Cavalier,” Balston exclaimed, a keg of ale under each arm. “These won’t last long, so let’s high forth and get to your precious Tusk Tavern!”

We left, but as it was getting late, we made camp a few miles down the road.

I couldn’t sleep. I mounted my horse, and rode back toward what I now thought of as The Sign of the Blue Dragon.

Sure enough, it was gone. It was then, that I admitted to myself, that part of me wanted to follow Balston on his mad adventure. Just say to hell with the war, with Triested, with Metrane. Fuck Pharj Mudast, let someone else kill his sorry ass! Let the dwarves fight their little civil war, while Rearkron waxed strong and readied to invade Korocia.

I knew I never would, of course. I was the last Knight of Metrane. I had my duty, my god, and my friends. I didn’t fight through hell and death, just to turn back when things got sticky. But, I understand how Balston must have really felt, that all the politics was sucking the life out of what we did. Whatever happened to those days, when we would find a dungeon to invade, for the wealth, the glory, and the sheer hell of it?

*Tavern Placard made with Gimp. Tavern maps made with Dungeon Crafter III.

With affection, this is dedicated to the original players of the Kastmaria Campaign.

Getting Back Into the Swing of Things. (Complete with Maps and lotsa links for the Laptop DM.)

Wherein my New Used Laptop inspires me to begin DMing again. 

So, a few weeks ago my wife says to me, “I think I want a new Laptop.” At the time, we had five computers in the house: the desktop in the den which my son and I use, my wife’s work computer (she’s a programmer and works from home), an old obsolete Compaq that was serving out the rest of its days as an overly large paperweight, the decent backup computer which my wife found at a yardsale for five dollars (Woo-Hoo), and the old Laptop.

We purchased the old Laptop about two years ago and we were quite excited. I had never owned a laptop and was rubbing my hands together in excitement at the prospect of being able to Toilet Surf, ride around on long trips while playing Neverwinter Nights, and having a cool new toy in general. I began dming with our laptop and was thrilled with the organizational powers that were now at my disposal. But, due to health and other issues, I put my Campaign on hiatus and not long thereafter my wife had to ship her work computer to the home office so her supervisor could perform some esoteric programming ritual on it, thus necessitating her using the laptop for work. When the work desktop came home, my spouse decided, for various reasons, that she needed both computers. In her off hours, she would use the laptop to play Toontown and pursue other interests; thus, I no longer got to use the laptop as my wife had totally appropriated the thing.

So, when she purchased her shiny new laptop the old one fell to me; I was quite giddy at the prospect of being able to wallow in my Big Man’s Recliner with my New Used Laptop surfing the web, playing games, and wasting time in general. I began setting the thing up, loading my software, etc. When I got around to loading Gimp, I got to thinking about my homebrew campaign world and how much I missed playing D&D.

Gimp is graphic editor, kind of a free version of Adobe Photoshop. http://www.gimp.org/. I was turned onto Gimp by the fine folks at The Cartographers Guild http://www.cartographersguild.com, a forum for fantasy cartography enthusiasts. The Guild has some incredibly talented mapmakers, some of whom produce higher quality stuff than I’ve seen in the vast majority of professionally produced RPG products. Photoshop, Gimp, and CC2 are the tools of choice for most of the mapmakers in the guild, and since the Gimp is free…

Back before the hiatus, I was running a 3.5 game set in Kastmaria, my 23 year old Homebrew world. I had usually drawn my maps by hand, but decided that a digital map would be more convenient. So, armed with the various tutorials posted at the Guild, I set about learning to use Gimp and making new versions of the maps for Kastmaria. I was about two-thirds of the way finished when I stopped running games, and the map in progress sat stored on the desktop for over a year. About two months ago I played with it a little more, finally finishing everything except the text layer. 

I like the way it turned out, but now that I have a little bit of experience with Graphic Editors, I know I can do much better next time.

Anyway, it got me thinking about how much I missed DMing, and I decided to run another game. For various reasons, it wouldn’t be practical to begin until the first of the year, which gave me plenty of time to get things set up. So I dug out my old files, and began setting up my New Used Gaming Laptop!

The first thing I wanted to set up was DM Secretary http://barncatsoftware.org/dmsec.htm, a free Campaign Manager. Version 5.whatever had been released and amongst other changes had been set up for 4E. At the time, I was still planning on a 3.5 game, but the best features of the program weren’t system specific anyway, and it was still usable for any RPG. I then loaded the old AKS Hexmapper program, another free piece of software (Sorry, you’ll have to google this. Be sure to get the tile sets made by various users, as these are superior to the ones that come with the program. If you can’t find any of this email me.) The hexmapper is rather useful for making quick area maps. Here’s an AKS Hexmapper map of the Country of Triested from my campaign world.

The program makes old school style hex maps, which are guaranteed to warm the heart (or tickle the, er, fancy) of any Gygax Era Gamer.

I had misplaced my copy of the Waterdeep Event Generator, so I went to Candlekeep to download another copy http://www.candlekeep.com. This neat little free program can be used with any large fantasy city, and will generate random big city street scenes, as well as pick pocket results. Candlekeep has a lot of cool stuff, including an AWESOME pdf Waterdeep map which is incredibly detailed, featuring maps going all the way down to individual streets! I wanted to use this map so badly that I almost decided to run a Forgotten Realms campaign and I’m still toying with the idea.

I then spent a few days scouring the web for more programs. (I excel at finding creative and useful ways to waste time.)

Next I downloaded Dungeon Crafter III, http://www.dungeoncrafter3.com, a free dungeon map and tile maker; not many objects come with the program, but if you head over to the Dundjinni forums, all the fanmade objects work in DC3, so you can get a ton of stuff. I haven’t tested this program yet, so I’m not sure if I’ll end up going with it or shelling out the cash for Dundjinni http://www.dundjinni.com.

Then there’s Tavernmaker; http://www.tavernmaker.de/eng/men-eng-inf.htm, another free program which generates taverns complete with patrons, rumours and a map! (God, I’m such a Geek.)

Still planning on running 3.5, I set about recreating another lost file, my huge NPC database. Scouring the web, I began amassing as many NPC’s as I could find. For those looking for NPC’s, here’s a good place to start: http://d20npcs.wikia.com/wiki/Main_Page.

God knows, creating NPC’s for 3.5 is so labor intensive that DM’s need all the help they can get. With a good NPC database, you can find something close enough to what you want that with a little modification they’ll work just fine, thus, saving hours of time.

I then loaded my Homebrew files, and began going through everything, noting what needed to be finished or modified. “Maybe I should run a 1st edition Campaign…” I mused. I missed the atmosphere of AD&D and found DMing 1e to be more enjoyable than 3.5. The Pathfinder Beta looked pretty good as well. But looking over the 4th ed stuff was giving me some ideas, and if it was more pleasurable to DM than 3.5 then it was time to give it a try. But, did I really want to go to the time and effort of learning a new system and revising my world to work with 4e?

Learning a new game system and revising campaigns was the exact sort of thing I used to count as enjoyable, kinda like Mr. Scott getting excited at the idea of being confined to quarters and having an opportunity to read his technical manuals. Back when 4e was on the horizon, I had a generally crappy attitude about the whole subject. My health problems had me tired and depressed, so I reacted like the generally cranky person I had become and was firmly anti-4e. Now that I had some time to calm down and improve my state of mind, maybe it was time to give 4e a chance. Maybe.