Let Slip The Dogs Of War (Part III)

In which I  finally discuss...at lengrh...the tournament module written for Cauldron 2025's prestigious (and now annual) Blackrazor Cup....

SATURDAY BLOCK I: Rivers of Blood, Death, and Glory

Getting to Germany from Seattle isn't the easiest thing in the world. Yeah, it's a long haul. Yeah, it's more money than I'd like to spend on a plane ticket. Yeah, it means being away from my family for a weekend and missing things like high school dances and playoff soccer games. 

Is it worth the trouble and effort, just for a gaming convention? For me?

Yes. It is.

But I don't know if it's quite worth it...or if I'm quite willing...to make it an annual pilgrimage. Every other year sounds about right. At least until my kids are old enough to accompany me (always assuming I can afford the airfare). Cauldron I (in 2023) was fantastic...but I couldn't quite justify doing it again in 2024. And yet, I wanted to be part of Cauldron II all the same. Which is why I asked to convention organizers (well, really just Settembrini) if I could write a tournament module for the thing. 

Hence was born Children of the Sea, which I haven't written much about, because I thought it was going to be part of the OSRIC kickstarter stretch goals. Yeah, no...THAT didn't happen. But don't worry; it'll get released in a different fashion....

Feedback from Children was immensely positive: the con-goers in 2024 really seemed to enjoy it...so much so that they wanted to make it an annual contest at the con. Great news! However, some folks felt that the module had been "too easy." What the F...?

[when I ran it for my home group it ended in a TPK...]

My adventures are supposed to be "challenging" not "easy;" certainly not "too easy!" Having my ego slighted, it is only natural that I would want to redeem myself with a stronger adventure for 2025. Not a terribly awful, "killer" dungeon, but something designed to be fiendish even while being appropriately stocked for players of the requisite level.  

Thus was conceived the idea for Rivers of Blood, Death, and Glory. I think the title probably came first, even before the concept: an upriver trek into the frozen wilds of British Columbia. 

Now, when searching for a premise/scenario, my first thought that to re-write/re-purpose yet another DragonLance module...specifically DL6: Dragons of Ice. I have a fascination with this adventure, for a number of reasons. For one thing, I rather love white dragons: they are dragons (duh) that even low-mid level parties can survive encounters with...great for a game with the word "dragons" in the title. Also, frost breath is awesome. Also, in B/X and OD&D they are NEUTRAL in alignment, making them one of three "non-evil" dragons (which opens all sorts of possibilities). Not that this adventure was ever planned to be anything other than AD&D....

My favorite DragonLance cover art...

There are two other reasons that DL6 interests me: the first of these is that it represents the first adventure truly divorced from the novels. I read the original DL novels long before I ever read any of the modules, and the details of the protagonists' excursion to IceWall Castle (another great name) is mostly left out of the text, instead being relegated to (yet another) example of the Hickman poetry fetish. Which...for me...means that the unfolding events of the adventure are quite wide open for interpretation.

The last reason I find DL6 interesting is that the "dungeon" portion of the adventure is actually stocked "by the numbers," with the proper amount of monsters, traps/tricks, special, and empty encounters (for the number of encounter areas) AND (if memory serves) even the proper amount of treasure for the party. This is pretty amazing, and considering the size it would fit just fine within a four-hour tournament time slot (it is a rather small "dungeon").

However, it is BORING AS HELL and, for the most part, far too easy when it comes to the "big bad evil wizard," and while it is well-themed (and includes some great dragon encounters), I didn't particularly want minotaurs and walrus men.  Oh...and the layout is pretty sad, too: a bunch of rooms around a courtyard; possibly the most dull map ever attached to a Hickman project.

[to be fair, it IS credited to Douglas Niles, an author I do not hold in very high esteem as a module cobbler] 

Even so, it gave me a good base to start from. I removed the "evil wizard" guy completely (because evil wizards tend to get pwned when facing a party of eight adventurers, no matter how high their level...spell interruption, you know?) and instead made the guy dead and buried and part of the backstory. Minotaurs and thanoi got replaced with yetis, the polar bear for a brown bear (because it's British Columnia). All the dragons got to stay (yes, Chomi, DL6 uses the exact same number of dragons!), as did the winter wolves. Throw in a few undead here and there, a golem, some magical traps appropriate to a lich's stronghold and some more interesting treasure and voila! Tournament adventure written.

[I keep telling people I'm just a hack when it comes to this stuff, and I'm not lying. I may be a very good hack, but in terms of sheer creativity there are plenty of Very Fine Minds out there to whom I don't hold a candle]

Having run the adventure twice prior to Cauldron, I had a pretty good idea of how the thing played. The "upper works" (where the bulk of the adventure's half a million gold pieces in treasure may be found) is especially dastardly.  UNIVERSALLY, I found players would get flustered/distracted by the firetrap on the lich's crystal ball and then miss searching for secret doors in the scrying room; this is only exacerbated by the multiple yeti encounters (where are we going to run into another pack of those guys) and the pressure of the tournament time limit.

[I am cognizant of the elven party members' ability to automatically check for secret doors just by passing by the space, but if they did not mention anything about exploring the room or even going deep into it, I did not allow the chance. Were I to rewrite the adventure, I would simply note that the secret door can ONLY be found by "active searching," and see which groups keep their wits about them]

Likewise, the cliffside entrance to the dragon caves is supposed to be difficult to spot...if anything, that entrance is meant to be a "reward" of sorts for groups that encounter (and survive!) a random encounter with the dragon while exploring the village. I will relate that ONE particular group at Cauldron (who shall not be named) asked me for a "hint" about the adventure and I said, "Keep your heads up." They deciphered my message and found their way into the caves...only to be all-but-TPK'd by the dragon and her young. Instant karma, perhaps?

With regard to my own Cauldron session, the group did a fine job: certainly the best of any of the three groups I've run. Now, given, they DID have eight heads in the game, but the adventure ran pretty much the same, and they were quite clever with how they approached the various encounters, not taking anything in the way of casualties (by actual DEATH), losing fingers to frostbite, melting their own weapons in the black forge, blowing up spell-casters with the firetrap, or trying on the necklace of strangulation. In fact, they were the FIRST group I've run to not lose a single party member...well, except for one player who left the table (perhaps in disgust, after being energy drained half his levels). 

[sorry, man...]

ACTUALLY, the disgust was more likely due to the way I could not contain my maniacal cackling laughter towards the end of the adventure. I have no excuse for this and I apologize unconditionally for the offense I caused...the pained look on Prince of Nothing's face and the desperation in his voice as time was running out just did something to tickle my funny bone. It was highly reminiscent of playing with my brother (back in the good ol' days before he went crazy off-the-rails with his mental issues and alcoholism...), and Prince (and the others) should take it as a compliment. It is rare that I laugh that hard or so long with anyone, except friends I feel comfortable with (and my own kids). 

[and, to be clear, it was not Prince who abandoned the table]

But...look here: they sussed out that the pit of wights was FULL OF WIGHTS even before they left the throne room. They MAPPED THE DUNGEON METICULOUSLY (up until the mines below) and knew EXACTLY WHERE THE WIGHTS WERE. And then they STILL went there (and got their asses beat). And THEN...with time running out and the desperation to find more treasure positively reeking off them...they WANTED TO GO BACK FOR MORE PUNISHMENT.  

How could I not chuckle?

This I chalk up to metagaming of the WRONG type. I encourage metagaming: if players know that fire kills trolls, they should not pretend otherwise when they encounter a band of regenerators. The players KNEW that the skeleton with the yellow-orange mold on it was a dangerous mold of SOME variety, and wisely avoided it. They should have probably taken the same tack with the wights, especially since they knew there were 16 of them, far more than they could probably turn. 

And, yet, they assumed that I (the DM) had put the wights there for a reason. That there must be some "great frigging treasure" in that pit. As if a lich lord wouldn't just have a pit of wights to throw people into for his own amusement. My adventures are designed to have a certain type of logic to them...they are not "funhouses." Why are the yetis there? Because the place has been abandoned and they've taken up residence (in the places they could reach). Why is there a forge of black flame? To craft the lich's weapons of war. Etc., etc. See, there is metagaming and then there is "over-thinking” (which might be defined as “trying to out-think/guess the DM”). I suppose that works sometimes but…well, I can’t say I recommend the practice.

But, again, the adventure is designed this way. The time pressure functioned great...the methodical, cautious approach started escaping their grasp as time wound down. As happens. A blizzard is a-coming folks...got to get the treasure out and get back to the boats!

Anyway...

Other teams (except the one that blundered into the dragons' den) escaped with far more loot...several in excess of 200K and the winning team with more than 300K. Then again, I wasn't running the adventure for all of them...would they have fared as well with me in the captain's chair? Hard to say. Prince & Co. took home some 88K which exceeded my home group by the value of one potion of heroism and a handful of silver...but they did it without losing a single PC to death and that is something.

Last thing I want to say about the tournament adventure (which most everyone I spoke with at Cauldron seemed to enjoy): every single monster in the adventure came direct from the 1E Monster Manual. Every single treasure in the adventure can be found in the pages of the 1E DMG. Every single spell-type trap (firetrap, glyph, etc.) is in the 1E Players Handbook.  No UA tricks, no Dragon Magazine articles, not even a Fiend Folio critter to be found...I wanted to make sure all the DMs could run the thing using nothing but the core books.

Because the core books have PLENTY of "good stuff" in 'em.

; )

All right. That's all I want to say on the tournament adventure. Thanks to everyone who gave it a go, and thanks especially to all the DMs that ran it...you folks were excellent!

Let Slip The Dogs Of War (Part II)

In which I continue to describe the games I ran at Cauldron 2025, spoiling secrets and providing insights into the mind of a geezer DM...

SATURDAY NIGHT BLOCK: Ship Of Fate

The rousing success of Caul’s Dark Citadel…as well as the final three runnings of the tourney module in Saturday Block II...led to dinner being a boisterous affair, especially at my table. Everyone at Cauldron was in a fine mood and, plied with copious amount of alcohol, a lot of money ended up being shucked out at the auction, with much backslapping, congratulating, and toasting of each other.

A lot of palinka. A lot of whisky.

Thus the set-up for the so-called “night block:” a 9pm to WHENEVER affair (no time limit). At Cauldron 2023 I had skipped this (to my later chagrin), instead unwinding and bantering a bit before calling it an early night. THIS year, I had originally left the slot open hoping to get into one of Prince’s epic night-festivals…and then he decided not to run a game in the block! “Sorry, man, there are games I want to play in,” is he wrote to me last month.

SO determined not to miss out, I decided I would be the one to fire up a big-ass, high level adventure into the wee hours. Enter Ship of Fate, a high level extravaganza I wrote for Prince’s NAP II contest (get it HERE if you like).

Ship of Fate is quite obviously inspired by (and heavily based on) Michael Moorcock’s Elric story Sailor on the Sea of Fate. If you haven’t read it…um, why not? Elric stories are pretty much required reading for high level AD&D play, especially Elric of Melnibone, Sailor, and Stormbringer. But, yeah, I know some people think D&D is supposed to top out around 7th level. *sigh*

Good read.

I digress…Ship of Fate is an adventure designed to be played by from four to 16 players, four of whom take the part of high-level lady and gents (the “Heroes”) and 12 of whom are mid (7th – 10th) level “Companions.” The idea being that each Hero has three Companions. The kicker is that all 16 of these characters were once actual player characters, played either by myself of by my friends…however, I’ll note that – with regard to the high-level guys – they’ve been considerably “toned down” from their original stature and abilities. *AHEM*

I have only had the chance to run Ship of Fate one time…for my home group…and we did not finish more than five or six encounters due to an abbreviated session. Alas, we never returned to it because, being a one-off with pre-gens, it held a lot less “spice” for us than using our regular, organically grown PCs; such is life in a living campaign. Because of this, I wasn’t exactly sure how the adventure would play out. Certainly it was much too big for a standard 4-hour time slot. But we were in NIGHT BLOCK, baby! There aren’t any rules! Go all night like when we were 14 and high on caffeinated drinks!

[it’s possible I was a little drunky when I decided to register this game, pre-Cauldron] 

So, unsure of how I was even going to seat 16 people around the table I’d been assigned, I found myself somewhat relieved when “only” nine people showed up to the game. And then while handing around the pre-gens I immediately lost one of the four “Heroes” (the 12th level fighter)…noooo!

[I might have been a little drunky…again]

Fortunately, Tom still had his 14th level fighter pre-gen from Settembrini’s earlier high-level game. I knocked two levels off, reduced the hit points to a reasonable amount (they were set something like 2 points below max), and axed a magic item or two, but most of the character was allowed to stay.

And we were off!  Just organizing such a group was a bit of an ordeal, but it wasn’t too long before they got it together and decided to send the thief into the first cavern and…

Oh, wait…what’s the point of the adventure?

So, in Ship of Fate the heroes are sailed across the Dunkle Zee…a kind of phantom ocean that connects the various planes of the multiverse…to an island nexus where two sibling wizards (brother and sister) are using a rift in the space-time fabric to drain power from all the planes in existence, gradually snuffing them out. Players are supposed to find the building at the center of the island, kill the wizards, and then fire the building using special magic firebrands designed for the purpose. The ship has a cargo hold full of gold for the players after success in their quest and the wizards themselves are likely to have treasure, too. However, they also have many minions and protectors.

SO…big ass building (like the length of three football fields). Players did spend a flare trying to burn the place down with the wizards in it, but the structure…a monstrous, twisted behemoth that looked something like an amalgamation of alien machine and melted giant humanoids…simply extinguished the flame itself. Which the players had been told it would do which is why they needed kill the wizards FIRST. Amateurs.

A couple entrances suggested themselves to the PCs…a large cave, overhung by vines OR a large stairway leading up. They sent the thief down into the cave where he was soon filled by needles from the needleman forest inhabiting the cavern. Retreating, the party had the wizard nuke the plants with a fireball before proceeding. Into the troglodyte caves.

Those proved nightmarish to try to map, let alone explore in a coherent fashion [it’s possible the players were a little drunky] and the group eventually decided to give it up and go up the grand staircase to the “main gate” (as they called it). At this point, James (the guy playing the 12th level cleric) gets a brilliant idea: “Why don’t I use a find the path spell to locate the wizards?” Can’t…the spell can’t target living beings.

“What about the nexus rift? We know it’s there…and the wizards are likely to be with it!” That seemed reasonable and the spell immediately starts pulling the cleric (who leads the party) the way of the shortest route to the object desired.

Which worked pretty well for a while, as it ignored or helped bypass several encounters, while revealing secret doors and hidden passages. Great stuff; great use of available resources! Plus, it lasted a good long time (12 turns!) meaning they were covering a LOT of ground. No sweat, guys, we got this!

Then it led them through the cavern of the shadow demons.

Mean.

Now, I'd guess there are a lot of us for whom the phrase "shadow demon" conjures to mind the little toadie/spy who follows Venger around the D&D cartoon like a whipped dog. Yeah, no. Shadow demons are highly intelligent, vicious 7+ hit die creatures that are 90% undetectable and can leap and claw and tear at opponents while also having the abilities to dowse lights (darkness 15' radius), cast fear, and magic jar opponents. In this particular instance (not a mandatory encounter, by the way...just the shortest path to the wizards!), it turned into a nightmare scenario for the PCs. Their lights were dowsed, and then the attacks from the shadow demons ended up preventing casters from turning on the lights: every time they lost initiative...or won by too low an initiative amount....they'd get attacked and have their spells interrupted. Fighters were swinging away in darkness and hitting their companions. Two characters blew their saves against fear attacks and fled into the darkness, never to be seen again (one of those blundered into a room full of spectres and was sucked dry in the darkness; I think the other just went to bed). 

They eventually managed to overcome the demons, but it was a brutal toll: only three PCs (all Heroes) had survived. Sonka (now playing Tom's fighter, as he decided to go to bed), Ollie (as Lucky the 12th level magic-user), and James continued on, the find the path spell still functioning. They made it to the nexus chamber, but no wizard was present (50% chance, and missed the roll). However, some minor exploring found her in her workroom, toiling away at constructing flesh golems, with three completed. No surprise, everyone attacked!

Again...pretty brutal encounter. The cleric was felled by a fistful of magic missiles, the wizard badly damaged while the fighter tried to fight his way through flesh golems and mirror images. Tired of having his spells interrupted, the wizard backed off to use his scroll on monster summoning VI, conjuring a pair of weretigers...who did not appear for a couple rounds. Meanwhile, the fighter was stunned with a power word and the flesh golems proceeded to curb stomp him in a fashion unseen in Germany for four score years.

[too soon?]

However, Ollie/Lucky managed to hold on and the were-tigers finally showed up. Something happened to neutralize Giz-Kala (though that part is hazy...perhaps yet another hold person spell?) and the golems bereft of an order-giver allowed the much reduced party to escape, the fighter left with three hit points to his name. 

Deciding "stealth" was now the order of the day, the two utilized a potion of polymorph and a polymorph self spell to change into rodents, with which they finished their exploration of the main chamber, were-tigers in tow. They found the other wizard, laying in a comatose torpor of slumber, and slit his throat. "Now how the hell do we get out of here?!" Neither had been mapping.

It was decided to risk teleporting to the exterior, despite having only observed the island terrain once. Fortunately, Lucky was high enough level to take the beefy fighter with him. The die roll was successful and they fired the dungeon from outside, the flames quickly consuming the structure, and declaring victory, agreeing to split the gold between them. The time was after 2:30am, the players still standing thanked me, and headed off to bed, as I cleaned the table and turned off the lights of the floor (we were the last group still going).

I did not bother to reveal how much treasure they'd left behind.

*****

SUNDAY BLOCK I: Ybarra Florin

Our final session of Cauldron, the "brunch block" took place only after breakfast and the award ceremony had been completed. Some of us (*ahem*) had continued to drink into the wee hours of the morning, by which I mean 5:50am. Given one hour sleep to work with I was...not in great shape.

Thus it was a good thing I chosen an easy adventure to run! The original idea had been to run my I3: Pharaoh re-work, Desert of Kartha, but it's not anywhere close to being finished, let alone prepped and cut to fit a four hour time block (I would have been running the thing with a few sketchy notes). So, realizing my ass would be dragging at the end of a long three days, I decided to go with something I've run several times before: Ybarra Florin.

Again, this NOT really a "Becker original." Kenneth St. Andre penned a short adventure called Tower of Yrkath Florn for the first edition of his Stormbringer RPG. It's a nice little introductory scenario, one I've run two or three times over the decades I've owned the game. About three years ago, I converted it to AD&D; but it's mostly unchanged in terms of layout and premise. Mostly.

A wealthy patron hires the party to go check out the ruins of a dead Melnibonean sorcerer, and bring back any relics you find. Of course, "Melnibonean" in my campaign world means "high elf," all of whom seem to have a Spanish bent to them (hence, the name change. Don't ask me why...).

[I'm not even the first one to do "Spanish elves;" see Aaron Allston's Principalities of Glantri]

The ruined tower is two levels of a once three-story structure that's been wrecked by an earthquake...in my world it's on the Olympic Peninsula, right off Dabob Bay near Quilcene. The St. Andre version of the adventure has a family of clackars...winged gorilla creatures...lairing in the lower portion of the dungeon. But, of course, AD&D doesn't have this monster...

[other than in the 1980 DDG with the Melnibonean Mythos, page 88: they have HD 8, 2x 1d12 damage claws (+rending), immunity to fear and surprise, etc., etc.]

...so I didn't something else for my conversion. Now, when I say "fur, feces, and feathers," does anything D&Dish spring to mind immediately? Of course it does.

I ran this adventure when we were introducing Maceo's younger brother, Winston, to the AD&D game. Of course, he was ripped to shreds. Later, their family took them to see the new Dungeons & Dragons movie and Winnie told his mom, "That's the thing that killed me! An owl bear! See I told you they were scary!"

ANYway, they're scary for adults players, too. Our group (another eight stalwart souls) brought not one but TWO paladins to the adventure. The first paladin was killed by the pair of juveniles in the first room of the main hall. As the rest of the party maneuvered to lure the creatures out into a killing area, the Papa Bear came out of a different door to investigate the sounds of battle (and smell of blood) that had disturbed its slumber. Things got very dicey for the group very fast, despite having a ranger who kept negating the "completely surprised" rolls of the party (without the ranger, it could've got real ugly...)

However, give bulk of the credit to Ludwig the magic-user for saving the party's bacon. Ludwig's pre-gen had a wand of wonder and he wasn't afraid to use it, luckily getting decent results throughout the session! A stinking cloud and failed saves from the 'bears allowed the party to move outside the tear gas and missile the critters to death before they had a chance to clear their nasal passages...a pretty fortunate outcome, all things considered.  After slaying the mother 'bear (combining a slow spell from the wand along with an insect swarm from Paul the druid), the party claim to the family's nest of eggs and young, all worth a pretty penny on the open (elven) market.

Then it was up to the second level and Old Ybarra's workroom, hidden behind a magical door. The door is unlocked but electrically jolts individuals crossing its threshold for some pretty gnarly damage; fortunately, it was Michal the (last) paladin who took the blast, thereby rendering the thing inert. Inside lurks a demon...the same creature that killed Ybarra two centuries before when an earthquake cracked the pentagram that contained it. For AD&D purposes, I used a Type II demon, which is about the right power level, despite being vulnerable to normal (iron) weapons, thanks to an excellent armor class and magic resistance. Using it was nice (it's been a while since I've dropped any demons in an adventure) and I should probably use them more often. In the end, it was defeated without inflicting a single casualty (although it did force both the paladin and druid to flee the tower in terror with its cause fear ability)...and while in retrospect it probably should have caused more casualties through the liberal use of teleport and gate, I will not blame my lack of tactical badassery on "going soft." The fact of the matter is: I forgot about these abilities.

One hour of sleep, remember?

SO...an easy adventure to run and only a light challenge (in my opinion) for the players, thanks to a little good fortune and a heavily hung over DM. And that's okay...the con had been a looong three days (not counting the 5,000 miles of air travel), and I was happy with how the session wrapped up. I even took the time to calc out the experience and treasure take for all surviving party members...per their request. It wasn't a bad haul for the ADDKON characters.

[to be continued...]

Also mean...

Why D&D Works

I had an epiphany Saturday night, something I'd been struggling with and considering for years: why does D&D work, i.e why does it have staying power as a role-playing game, when so many other RPGs do not?  What is it that sets D&D apart from all other systems, genres, and competitors?

Saturday, while walking to the store to pick up some beer, it came to me: raise dead. 

Now, to be clear, there are a lot of reasons why D&D works...and works really well...for long-term (campaign) play. The driving force of the advancement mechanics (the x.p./leveling "carrot"). The plethora of challenges that scale from low levels to high. The micro-/macro- scale of the setting (i.e. the premise of exploring closed "dungeon" sites, and the endless possibility of exploring a whole world or different dimensions/planes). 

But all these things can be (and are) replicated/implemented in other genres of games: lots of games have "levels" and/or points-driven systems. Lots of of genres feature "adventure sites" for drilled-down exploration. Most RPGs present a scale of challenges from the beginning stages until the later.  Many, many games have emulated these particular aspects found in D&D. 

However, while those things, when implemented, can add staying power (i.e. sustained interest/engagement with game play) in practice, I've never any of those games to last for longer than a few months...and generally not even that long. 

[cue all the folks who've been running 20+ year Traveller campaigns to pipe up]

Here's the thing: I think (I think) that unless you have some slavish devotion to a particular genre/setting IP (for example, the person who ONLY plays Star Wars, because they love-love-love Star Wars and would not play RPGs at all without system to allows them to live in the SW universe), for sustained engagement over time, the participants require two things:

1. a real, true challenge that tests them (no matter how poor the player, they become competent with enough hours logged), and
2. a "tangible" (I use this term VERY loosely) form of accomplishment/reward demonstrating their impact (i.e. there has to be something to show for the time spent).

And the area where D&D differs from pretty much EVERY GAME on the market (certainly every game I can think of...which is more than a few), is the presence of of game mechanics that allow dead/destroyed characters to return to the game without breaking the verisimilitude of an escapist (fantasy) game. This is not "plot armor" for characters; instead magic like raise dead, reincarnate, resurrection, and wish are all baked into the system...these spells are a hard-wired part of the game's setting.

So what does this mean? Why is it important?

Well, for one thing, it means a DM can push the players as hard as he/she feels is appropriate for their capabilities without fear that beloved characters might be killed derailing years of work and investment. See, I readily acknowledge that players develop attachments to characters over long periods of consistent play...and not just attachments to their own characters...and DMs are not immune to this effect either. You work a character from 1st level up to 5th or 8th or 10th+ level, and the character takes on the same status in the minds of the participants as a major character in a favorite television serial.

It happens. It's not about creating a nifty "backstory" for the character, or developing a PC's "personality." It's about actual play, over time. Such characters matter to players.

And D&D provides means of bringing them back to life. The D&D world is a magical world...by definition and by design...that presumes souls (and spirits, yes, I see you DDG) do not immediately depart to their eternal reward upon expiration of the physical body. Players know this going in to the game. No, it's not necessarily easy (nor cheap) to do so, but there is always room for an Orpheus like quest. I've seen it happen...more than once in more than one campaign.

And so, because of this possibility, DMs can push the players hard. The kid gloves can come off. The DM is free to create dangerous scenarios, and run those scenarios by the rules, letting the dice fall as they may, and allowing the players to suffer and strive and triumph and fail on the basis of their own abilities and their own luck. Without the need for plot armor immunity, "death saves," or comic book style "ret-cons." Real Play; Real Stakes. Death on the line. 

Which, by the by, makes the experience of playing D&D all the more visceral...all the more adrenaline-pumping...for the people sitting around the table. Cheers and groans and fear and real tension. And, upon success, real feelings of achievement. The kind of roulette spins that breed gambling addicts...which is why people who enjoy D&D play, will continue to love and enjoy it. 

It's not an interest in improv that keeps them riveted.

So, yeah, this is the difference between D&D and (pretty much) every other RPG on the market. Superheroes, space opera, horror, espionage...none of them offer both the hard challenge of D&D, and the setting ingrained "get out of jail free" cards that take the sting out of loss. Of course, the D&D game has more wonderful things than just the magic of raise dead (including asymmetrical game play, a reward system that encourages action and cooperation, etc.), but this is the thing that, I believe, is UNIQUE to Dungeons & Dragons, and it facilitates long-term buy-in and investment which opens the potential to see how a campaign can unfold...in all its glory.

Happy Monday, folks. 

: )

[and, if you're an American, please don't forget to exercise your right as a citizen and VOTE]

Storming the Forbidden City

SO...

For the Cauldron convention, I decided I would run a number of scenarios based on the classic (TSR) adventure I1: Dwellers of the Forbidden City, an AD&D (1E) module I've blogged about on more than one occasion.

There was, of course, a little impishness to my choice: the (main) convention organizer (the much esteemed Settembrini) is an outspoken critic of David "Zeb" Cook, author of Forbidden City. While I agree that there's plenty to criticize about Zeb's work, it's not ALL bad, and I'm trying, Ringo, to be a Good Shepherd these days...even when it's so darn hard not to be the overly negative 'Tyranny of Evil Men.'

[that's a 90s film reference for you young 'uns]

ANYhoo...I1. Great adventure (IMO) and one I hadn't run in a while. Also, fairly massive in scope (if sketchy in the details): a whole city full of potential danger and antagonists. Far too much for a 4-hour convention time slot...and, yet, the adventure as originally conceived was designed for tournament (convention) play.  The thought that struck me: can I rehab this thing and make it a showstopper?

Having decided to give it a shot, I hit upon the following strategy:

1. I would offer three separate, successive scenarios, all set in the Forbidden City.
2. Each scenario would "ramp up" in difficulty (expected level of participating PC).
3. Each scenario would present a different environmental/situational challenge, despite using the same theme.
4. Each scenario would offer enough reward ("treasure") to level up the presumed party, allowing players who wished to continue to play each successive scenario.

For the first scenario ("To Rescue A Prince") I used the original tournament scenario from the module (section "A" of the I1 publication). Section A consists of a linear map with 10 encounter areas, including several challenging set pieces. For this scenario, I changed very little of the original scenario; designed for six characters of levels 4th - 7th level, the original pre-gens actually average 6th level. So, I tightened it up by making sure no pregens under 5th would be allowed, made sure I had eight available, and upped the treasure take to ensure that even the 5th level PCs could expect to rise in level...should they survive and succeed at their objective.

I removed the sleep gas trap (it really doesn't make sense, and the reverse gravity field is enough as far as the "reasons" for its inclusion) and changed the bugbears to skulks, which I felt were a little more thematic given the jungle theme while retaining (more-or-less) the danger level (semi-invisible backstabbers are on-par with wookies that more easily surprise).  I previously wrote about the play-testing of this scenario, and found that four hours was just a tiny bit too short to get through, though I chalked that in part due to the party's wizard getting eaten by crocs in the first encounter and thus having some difficulty with the more populated encounters (tasloi and whatnot).

[unfortunately, even though the Cauldron party retained their MU (and, in fact, carried a second spell-caster...a fighter/magic-user) the convention group would still fail to make it to the final encounter in the four-hour time slot]

My second convention scenario ("The House of Horan") was also taken directly from I1. The wizard Horan is named as the mastermind behind the newly organized and ambitious raiding groups from the City; he resides with his apprentice in a well-kept, walled compound that contains his house, gardens, and more than a few guardsmen (bullywugs, leopards, and...*sigh*...bugbears). For a con, I set the adventure one week following the first, giving adequate time for the party to recover their strength and (as background/intro to the scenario), discover through careful scouting this "suspicious stronghold" in the midst of the ruined city.

Horan's house is quite a different scenario from the linear affair that is the original tournament adventure. It is, in fact, extremely open: a classic housebreaking situation, the PCs are given full autonomy to decide how they approach the thing. It is exceptionally dangerous, even for a party of 6th - 8th level PCs; the first time I play-tested, it resulted in a TPK. The second play-test wasn't much better, despite the PCs knowing (somewhat) what to expect...it's just very difficult to tackle a 12th level wizard in his home, if he's prepared for such a possibility with reasonable defenses. 

[the Cauldron players fared all right: a couple deaths, a couple zero-outs, but they managed to conquer the wizard while playing on the edge of their seats. It was a near thing...which is the way I like to run adventures, just by the way]

For the third scenario ("Shrine of the Demon Goddess"), I crafted an entirely new adventure: a three level, traditional dungeon of 27 encounters for 7th - 9th level characters. As readers might surmise from the title there is, in fact, a demon in the thing: a type V demon, inspired by (and foreshadowed by) the first encounter location of the tournament adventure:

"The walls of the alcove are worked with carvings of snakes and men in a pastoral scene and at its back stands a large statue of a snake-bodied, six-armed woman."

The adventure module, as published, has no real "base of operations" or headquarters of yuan-ti...something that's been pointed out by plenty of folks, along with a general "incompleteness" to the thing. But the very incompleteness provides plenty of potential for DMs/designers to add to the Forbidden City...which is what I did, creating a temple within a temple, complete with catacombs, remnants of the prior (pre-snake) religion/culture, and a Hell-like cavern section full of dretches and assorted badness, including a pool of inky black capable of transforming normal folks into snake-folk.

The City: lots of room for more lairs.

Good stuff, in other words.

Scenario three also has plenty of treasure squirreled away, at least three large pockets of it. When play-tested at home, my players found troves #1 and #3...the Cauldron players found #2 and, yes, it all turned out as decidedly deadly as a DM could ask for (if you're giving away big heaping piles of loot, there better be the potential for a decent body count). 

*ahem*

ANYway...as I1: Dwellers of the Forbidden City is available at DriveThru for a grand total of $4.99 (PDF only...sorry), it's easy enough for people to see the bulk of my first two scenarios, including maps. As for the third scenario? Eh...I'll probably just make it available here on Ye Old Blog as a free download in the next few days...just as soon as I can get my maps scanned. And, yes, it will contain my notes/changes (especially treasure counts) for the first two scenarios. Look for that...mm...Friday, probably.

All right...that's enough for now. I'll talk some of the specifics of my Cauldron play experience in a future post.

: )

Another Forbidden Foray

Time is getting closer to my Germany trip, and what free time I've had (not much) has been spent writing/designing my adventures I plan on running at Cauldron. Just finished the third one, mmm, Sunday morning. That's the one that's cut from whole cloth, a completely new delve into the yuan-ti's "Holiest of Holies." Came to about 11 pages, not including maps, pregens, and play-aids.

But I haven't been able to test it. Still had to re-run adventure #2 for the con. I was doing that on Sunday for four hours (well, 3 hours and forty minutes). It's still a killer, but at least this time it wasn't a total party killer. Threw an extra NPC into the party (a 6th level paladin, Fairburne, complete with magic armor and frost brand longsword), and the party was STILL nearly done in: four out of seven survivors, two of whom were "zeroed out" (though they were stabilized at -1 and -3 respectively), and the other two in single-digit hit points. And this is AFTER the group had already made a run at the thing and knew (somewhat) what to expect. Yeah, it's a bit of a ball-buster.

Fairburne did not survive, having been reduced to something like -18.

[for folks who don't remember my original post on the topic, I'm re-writing/re-purposing I1: Dwellers of the Forbidden City for the convention. The pre-gens and NPCs, including Fairburne, are all being taken from those included in the original module...although players are, of course, allowed to bring their own characters]

Still, a win is a win, and the survivors are all 7th level now (well, except for Olaf Peacock, who's a 6th/5th/4th level bard), which is the minimum level I pegged for my third scenario, a little something I call "Shrine of the Demon Goddess" (catchy, right?). But I have to come up with enough NPCs to round out the party, and I'm running out of module pregens. It's a damn shame Daniel the cleric died, as he probably would have leveled up, and a raise dead spell would have come in real handy. I've got Gavin (halfling thief), Marcella (ranger), and X the Mystic (magic-user) all ready to go, but the only cleric left on the roster is Orrem, a 6th level canon, and I just don't think that's going to cut it in an adventure written for levels 7th to 9th. I suppose I could just boost him to level 7 (and that's probably what I'll end up doing), in the name of expediency...the party can always give him Fairburne's plate mail +1.

And expediency is the key word, here. Because more than running short on characters, I'm running short on TIME. I've got a little more than two weeks before I'm hopping aboard Iceland Air, and I need to figure out just what sort of monster I've created for scenario #3. A fairly beefy one, even for eight 7th level characters, from the looks of it (though not one without adequate rewards). When am I going to get a chance to run another four hour adventure session with our busy schedule?

Hm. Okay, just noticed the kids are out of school Friday ("teacher retreat"). Let's pencil that in.

All right, all right...apologies for yet another "throwaway" blog post, but typing this stuff up helps me organize the thoughts running 'round my head. The kids were pretty stoked about the adventure. We go weeks, sometimes, without playing D&D because of our incredibly busy schedules, and we all forget how much damn fun it is. Oh, the pleading last night to fudge dice rolls was in high demand...the attempts at wheedling...and, yet, everyone came through the thing richer and wiser (if not exactly unscathed), and happy. And excited. And rarin' to play more.  All thoughts of Minecraft and Fortnite and stupid video game garbage gone from their heads...the kids got up this morning and all they wanted to talk about over breakfast and the drive into school was Dungeons & Dragons: how they did, what's going to happen next, when can we set aside time for our next game. 

Lovely and delightful.

Okay, I've got to get to my morning chores. More later.

No yuan-ti were harmed (nor encountered) in the
running of this adventure scenario. This
will NOT be the case in the next adventure session.

Pride

5:20am on Tuesday morning. I am up (with coffee in hand); the rest of the household sleeps (except for the loyal beagle). Finally, it's time to write.

I hope everyone had a wonderful Solstice/Father's Day/Juneteenth weekend. I know I did. I am going to tell you about it now:

Saturday was a bit of this, that and the other thing, but we did manage to get into Ravenspire (my re-hashed version of Ravenloft) proper. So far, so good, and I'll write about this later. We should be able to play some more of it today, and I look forward to continuing.

Sunday, on the other hand, was dad's day, and while I would have been happy spending the day running D&D, my family had other plans. Specifically, they ran D&D for me. It went down like this: my son was peppering me with his usual slate of questions over dinner last Friday: what was my favorite AD&D adventure, what was my favorite AD&D character I ever played, what was my favorite character class, etc. He does this kind of thing a lot...asking my opinion on stuff, getting my insight, collecting recollections of my youth...unlike my daughter (she prefers to tell the stories, rather than listen to Pops bather on). However, this particular time he had an ulterior motive: 

Look, Pops, said he, I want to run you through an AD&D adventure for Father's Day, and I want you to use one of your old characters. You pick the module and I'll prep it and run it for you.

[it would seem that my family has finally come around to accepting their father is a Big Fat Nerd. Gifts I was given over a breakfast of biscuits and sausage gravy, which my lovely wife cooked for me (I am the only person in the household that will eat such fare...their loss...so it was a special occasion)...they included a new wallet emblazoned with the Dungeons & Dragons moniker and a 20-sided die and a flat black stocking cap that said "Dungeon Master" across the front. I was truly touched]

Well, I have to say I was pretty darn surprised by this offering. We had just finished discussing my past AD&D characters and the fact that I'd only really ever had ONE (many AD&D characters were rolled up by Yours Truly back in the day, but the vast majority had never seen table play). So it was that I found myself sitting down to play the Tomb of Horrors on Father's Day with a character that I hadn't used in 34 years, with my son acting as a proper AD&D dungeon master. 

...

...never would I have imagined, as a 14 year old, that such an event would ever occur...

We'll get to the game in a moment. We decided on S1: Tomb of Horrors as the adventure for a number of reasons. For one thing, my character was a high level character...whatever adventure got used would have to be in that high level (10-14) range. For another thing, it was short to prep...at 10 pages and a single map, it is one of the shortest classic adventures ever published...and in all honesty I didn't think there was enough time between Friday evening and Sunday for Diego to prep something like Vault of the Drow or Q1 (I know I'd need more time than that!). Finally, Tomb is one of those adventures I've run many times over the years...most recently in 2020 using the original OD&D version...but one that I've never suffered through as a player. As a one-off event using an insanely over-powered character, it seemed like a fine test: would my knowledge of the adventure module allow me to conquer the thing where so many others had failed before? I dug the adventure out of the closet and handed it over to the boy (with strict instructions to not let me read it/re-familiarize myself with it), while I set about doing my own "prep work."

In a dusty folder at the bottom of a pile of dusty folders containing pages collected across decades of RPG play, I have a sheaf of characters from my earliest AD&D campaigns. One goldenrod sheet may be the the earliest AD&D character I ever penned (a dwarf fighter-thief for my brother). And several of the sheets detail various iterations of my character, Landon, from the last long-term campaign in which I played. 

Some of these (the character at 1st level) are hand-written on loose-leaf notebook paper by my dungeon master. Others (later in his career) were printed up on fan-fold dot-matrix printer paper, pages and pages of magic items and "background material" (loves, hates, enemies, allies, etc.) accumulated over years of gaming. I don't usually go through this stuff...I am already painfully nostalgic, and there's a lot of "lost youth" and regret stuff I associate with my old gaming group...but I needed a version of Landon to play in the adventure.

We had decided to run the adventure strictly "by the book" (using only the PHB, DMG, and MM) so the first thing I had to do was clean up the character. Regular readers have heard me expound at length about how my old AD&D group tried to hew as closely to Rules As Written as possible, but we didn't always succeed. We incorporated Dragon magazine articles that we liked. We adopted various bits from the Unearthed Arcana and extrapolated on it. And quite frankly, we got some things WRONG in our interpretation of the RAW that I, as an older, wiser man, find a little embarrassing.  

I settled on the 16th level version of my character...I am fairly suspicious of the higher level versions of the character (my DM was tracking XP and advancement and I distinctly remember some hand-waving towards the end of the campaign). Landon was a 1E bard, so the experience point total for the character, even including his fighter and thief levels would put him on par with a 13th level fighter or wizard...i.e. right in the 10-14 level wheelhouse of S1.  More editing, however, would be required.

Ability scores got knocked down to their original levels (which were high enough) as I'm not sure how many librams and wishes had been used to raise those stats and questioned their accuracy. His exceptional strength was removed (bards don't get that), and his fighter/thief levels reduced to 7th/8th instead of 8th/9th (there's some discrepancy about this in the DMG and later TSR modules but I'm fairly certain this is correct). UAisms were axed from the sheet (including a huge swath of magic items, weapons specialization, etc.), as were unique magic items ("bad luck swords" and "endless bags of food"). Hit points were re-calculated (should have only had one hit die of thief and CON was now back to 15), and weapon proficiencies corrected. Finally, I removed his incredibly beefy psionics (one of his major advantages in our old campaign) because A) Diego hasn't incorporated them into the game, and B) per the PHB, half-elves shouldn't receive psionics. 

[there IS a later Dragon mag that corrects this...i.e. that allows half-elves to get psionics...but we weren't going to use apocryphal texts]

Even after all this, the character had (in my estimation) too much "stuff," so I went a step further: I advanced his age 34 years (real time, Jeffro!) and calculated the total cost of his living expenses from the passage of time: 652,800 gold pieces. I then sold off enough of his magic items and treasure to cover the deficit. What I was left with was little enough in the way of magic (bracers of defense, a magic sword and dagger, a single bag of holding, one ring of protection and another ring of feather falling) and something around 800 gold pieces in treasure. A bit better equipped than the pre-gens in Tomb...but then, this was all gear that had been found in actual adventures. 

Other than my character, our party was composed of pre-gens from the module itself. Sofia would play the 14th level magic-user, and we took along the 14th level cleric and 12th level paladin as NPCs. Since we were going "by the book," spells were memorized beforehand (including clerical and druidic spells) and I did the bulk of the selection, as well as the outfitting of the party members. Sofia chose her own spells (with some suggestions from me) and purchased her own equipment (Tomb pre-gens receive up to 1,000 coins of any type to spend, and up to 5,000 g.p. worth of gems).  Lastly, I recruited two henchmen (a 1st level elven fighter and a 1st level half-elf thief) and equipped them from my own (swiftly diminishing) funds. Light (leather) armor, ten foot poles and lanterns lit with continual light spells was the order of the day. 

So prepared, we set out to the conquer the Acerak's tomb...or die trying.

...

Hmm. How much to talk about? Well, I'll be brief:

Our extreme competence, our plethora of resources, and my personal knowledge served us well, ESPECIALLY in the beginning phases of the tomb...everything up to and through the "evil/good chapel" area. A piece of cake, really (Diego bemoaned that we were kicking the tomb's butt). But as we got into the middle section, my knowledge started to fail. I knew what was in the Tomb, I knew what we were looking for (and what to avoid), but I was less familiar with the actual logistics and placement. 

Tomb of Horrors is a GRIND. Even for someone like me...who has run it half-a-dozen times over the years and read the thing countless others. Finding and locating secret doors and passages is a pain. Trying to remember the later stanzas of the riddle...or not remembering their proper order can lead to panic. You second-guess yourself. You grow impatient. You fall into a pit or trip some trap that you damn well know you shouldn't have. The thing wears on you, the farther you get into it. Even without wandering monsters, being stuck in the middle of the dungeon with no readily available exit (those one-way teleporters), you end up feeling pressure. Even with the plethora of healing magic at your disposal, there is an attrition of the mind that occurs...the players argue with each other, tempers fray, snap.

It got us. Five and a half hours in (we were keeping time on a stop-watch) it TPK'd the whole party. Didn't even make it to "the columned hall;" opened the wrong door...incautiously...and put the whole expedition to sleep (no saving throw). We were then crushed flat by a stone juggernaut. Thanks for coming.

Totally, terribly unfair. Total asshole move, Gygax.

And it sucked...not because my long-time character had died (for all intents and purposes, he died a long time ago...in the Spring of 1988). No, it sucked because I wanted to beat the damn thing. I wanted to say that I killed Acerack and that he "wasn't so tough." But even knowing the adventure, I still screwed up. And paid the price. But really the only "loss" I took was to my pride...something I probably have too much of anyway.

And pride is easily replenished anyway. At least, it is for me. All I have to do is look at my children. My son, 11 years old, did an excellent job as a DM. My 8 year old daughter did a great job working with her old man (even saving my bacon by remembering a couple lines from the Acerack poem/riddle that I'd forgotten). Yes, I had to pull Sofia's character away from a couple of deathtraps that she wanted to wander into, but in the end it wasn't her play that killed us all.

Yeah, I am very proud of my children. I really can't express it.

Afterwards, we ate pombazos (made, again, by the wife) and watched Big Trouble In Little China, one of my all-time favorite films, and one that the kids had never seen. They liked it a lot...a perfect cap to a (mostly) perfect Father's Day. Maybe the best one I've ever had. They sure set a high bar for next year.

; )

Later.

Orcs: Neither Noble, Nor Savage

Back at the Village of Hommlet...actually, the village of Twisp in the Grand County of Okanogan, Bork the "half-orc" met his end rather quickly, never setting foot in a dungeon proper. He was stabbed in the back by an invisible Fernok of Ferd (4th level thief) while attempting to burgle rooms on the upper floor of the Inn of the Welcome Wench. So ends his tale.

However, Diego was fairly shaken by the death...to the verge that he claimed he hated the game and wanted to quit. He really liked Bork, you see; he had already formed an attachment to the character even before the character had done anything in the game, even though I'd had him roll up multiple characters before the start (in the eventuality that one or more might die). 

Such is the price of investing in a backstory for one's player character. It's but a small step for a DM to allow a "do over," a "take back" to allow the player to retain a cherished character...a character that was only just created and should contain ZERO emotional attachment. And from there it's the slippery slope of fudging dice rolls and changing encounters and turning the game from a game into a farce. THIS is how it starts.

Nope. Not doing that. "Do you really want to quit playing?" No. "All right, then grab another character so you can show up at the Inn." Diego's new character (Langston the elven thief) is doing much better.

We want players to be invested in the game, not their characters...though I readily agree that investment in character is both inevitable AND desirable over the long term. This is why parties will spend copious amounts of treasure to raise a fellow PC (or cherished NPC) that has died in the course of play...especially one with a few levels under his/her belt. But a newly minted 1st level character? No. Roll up a new fighter/assassin, call him Cork the Orc, and away you go.

*****

Since my last post I've been thinking hard about my "indigenous orcs." A lot of great comments on that last post (appreciate the feedback) leading me directly to define how and what the species is in my world. And I started by reading the "orc" entry in the Monster Manual and comparing it with the half-orc player race as described in the PHB and DMG.

The first thing one notices upon reading the MM with a clinical eye is just how slanted the description of the orcs are, pitting the reader against the creature. Gygax sounds like a propagandist in writing, painting a picture of "disgusting" and "unattractive" people; "bullies" who need "strong leaders" to "control the orcs" as they are otherwise likely (75%) to fight each other. They are "cruel," and "hate living things in general." They also "hate the light" despite noting that a quarter of orc villages are found above ground (though these are noted as being "rude" and primitive affairs).

To me, it reads like the biased account intended to drum up hatred for a society as a pretext for aggression, conquest, and subjugation. We've seen similar accounts written up over the years in our Real World, and not just with regard to indigenous peoples...part of going to war with countries post-Enlightenment has often (always?) included similar essays dehumanizing our opponents. Makes it easier for a soldier to see themselves as a "hero," and makes it far easier to put a bullet into a fellow human being.

So, let's chalk this up to someone working for the (human) nobility and not an actual sociologist studying this strange people. Hell, we can even write off the illustrations as exaggerated cartoons...still inhuman, but not quite so much "pig-man." Time for a closer look at this orc species!

Let's start with the basics. Physically, they are roughly human size. Orcs are stated as being 6' + tall, but again, this seems to be an exaggeration as the "half-orc" (per the DMG) is generally smaller and lighter than a human (5'6" and 150# being male average; 5'2" and 120# being female average)...which makes sense considering their maximum strength is LOWER than that of a human. Even if I was using half-orcs as a HYBRID species (I'm not) it makes little sense for the pairing of a large human and a larger orc to result in a smaller, weaker species...that's not how biology works. Instead, you should have something IN BETWEEN (at least) indicating such offspring should be larger and stronger than their human parents.

I am inclined to see the 6'+ description as more propaganda. "They're giants!" No.

Orcs do tend to have more hit points and better fighting ability than your average (non-classed) human: 1 hit die (1-8 hit points) compared to 0-level and 1-6 hit points. However, we know they are a robust species (+1 CON, maximum 19) and since the likely opposition PCs will face are the warriors of the village (rather than non-combatants), this makes sense. The 1-8 points of damage an unarmed orc inflicts is, perhaps, a reflection of their greater average strength (+1 STR, though humans have a greater range). This should not be considered an unarmed attack, but damage done from picking up whatever's at hand: furniture, tools/implements, etc. 

[furthermore, if one considers an orc's "penalty" for fighting in daylight, they are little different from a 0-level human with a high CON. Better to think of them as a species with an ADVANTAGE in darkness, than a truly nocturnal race]

Orcs mature quickly (reaching full adulthood by the age of 16), and can reach an age of 80 or more. Skin color ranges from brown to green with a "bluish sheen" changing to pink at the ears and snout. Hair color ranges from dark brown to black, perhaps fading with age (accounts of some with "tan patches"); warriors cut their hair short (described as "bristly"). 

Their intelligence is listed as "average (low)." Intelligence in D&D is a measure of two things: ability to learn languages and ability to learn sorcery. We know from the MM that the majority of orcs speak at least three languages (goblin and hobgoblin being different dialects of the same tongue), that they are "accomplished tunnelers and miners," and that they engage in construction, build fortifications, manufacture their own armor, and use a variety of weapons and siege equipment. From the DMG, we know that they have their own spell-casters: shamans (clerics) of up to 5th level ability, and the derisively called "witch-doctors" (cleric/magic-users) of up to 4th level ability. The range of 3 to 17 for intelligence given in the PHB seems fine and appropriate.

All the orc images on the internet are crap. Here's a
typical coastal native village from the 19th century
(this is a S'Klallam tribal village near Port Gamble).

Socially, they are little different from humans. I choose to see alignment as proclivity, and being lawful orcs engage in the building of communities, have laws and traditions, hierarchies ("chiefs," "sub-chiefs," etc.) and engage in trade with other humanoid communities (as described in the MM by their caravans, and as evidenced by their speaking the tongue of subterranean goblins). The 1-to-1 ratio of male orc to child orc and 2-to-1 ratio of male orc to female orc suggests a high rate of maternal mortality in childbirth, though this is perhaps due to the present conditions (competing with humans for living space). 

"Evil" alignment can be read as "hostile to humans (and their allies)." They have religion, their own form of worship. They obviously value strength (as do many humans); no wonder they are "fiercely competitive" as this is a way of showing strength and thus proving their worth/value to their community. The practice of slavery enforces this value (again: a show of strength in subjugating their foes). However, slavery generally comes about when there is a need for individuals to provide "work," and a lack of willing individuals to do the work.

[an abundance of land and scarce labor supply...once the indigenous locals had died off...contributed to the first slaves being imported into the Americas. Enslaved child soldiers fill the need of "armies" that don't have enough willing combatants; sexual slavery serves a demand that cannot be met under the values and norms of our polite society. And one can see the decline of serfdom and slavery in Europe and Asia as populations grew and cheap, unsupervised labor became abundant]

The D&D world is an immensely perilous one. Able-bodied orcs are needed to protect communities from large monsters and competitive humanoids (like the rival elves and...later...humans). Someone is still needed to grow food for the community, farming and raising animals. Slaves help fill that role for the orcs, especially given the need to preserve females for childbearing. It should probably go without saying that not all Orc communities engage in the practice of slavery.

The disproportion of adult female to male orcs does not necessarily suggest a matriarchal organization, nor even polyandrous relationships. Instead, the value of strength is again exhibited as males unwilling or unable to "prove" themselves are left without mates. Females, especially those proven to be good mothers, will have higher value/status in the tribe, but "environmental considerations" (the hostile D&D setting) contribute to an emphasis on war leaders and battle captains. 

"Cruelty" is in the eye of the beholder. Slavery is cruel to the enslaved (and to those who find slavery abhorrent). "Bullying" is practiced in all walks of human life. Deities & Demigods states the orcs' worship of Gruumsh (in my mind, the orcish word for "God") requires monthly sacrifices of blood...but that doesn't necessarily mean human sacrifice (nor the sacrifice of slaves or fellow orcs!). A goat, ram, or other ritually raised animal works fine and would be little different from historical human practices.

[another DDG note: "raiment" from Gruumsh includes a war helm and black plate mail; this is clearly a bit better than the usual orc armor described in the MM, and more evidence that the orcs' manufacturing ability is on par with humans, at least when it comes to personal armaments]

While the MM's author objects to the specific colors orcs enjoy, the fact remains that the orcs use colors (dyes and whatnot) and have their own sense of style and fashion. They are not primitive cavefolk eking out a subsistence existence. They also use standards and livery, and exhibit a great sense of martial pride (see their bonus when it comes to defending their battle standard). The DMG (page 16) describes:

Half-Orcs are boors. They are rude, crude, crass, and generally obnoxious. 

To me, this says they are straightforward and plain-talking, unconcerned with subtleties of speech and the niceties of (human) etiquette. They speak their mind. They are practical and pragmatic. That doesn't mean they aren't polite or honorable (in their own way), but asserting oneself loudly is (again) a means of showing strength...something they value. Because the weak have a hard time surviving the wilds and the depredations of elves. 

Ah, the elves. Long before the humans arrived, the orcs have been warring with elves. And why? Because they want the same things: Land. Resources. Access to timber, water ways, food supply. The elves (who I will discuss in a later post) have gotten the upper hand over the years (most likely by dint of superior magic), resulting in the orcs seeking shelter and homes in subterranean lairs (the majority of orc villages). Regrettably, this has pushed them into conflict with the subterranean dwarves and gnomes in recent years (the PHB p.18 notes a hatred for dwarves and gnomes, rather than simple antipathy with elves...the more recent conflict burns hotter). 

The newly arrived humans have been more curse than blessing for the beleaguered orcs. The humans have much in common with the orcs, and lack the history of ancestral feuding, but they also have the need for the same land. The physical features of the orc race make humans less amenable to them than to other demihumans, and the orcs have little to offer compared to the other species on the planet (elves: magic, dwarves: crafting, gnomes: gemstones, etc.). Orcs are a competitive species with the humans, a rival with little to offer in trade. Their practices of slavery and blood sacrifice make them seem "primitive" in the eyes of humans; their inhuman features and working relationship with goblinoids and ogres make them feared and "dangerous" in comparison to the more human-appearing species. 

[it also doesn't help that humans making friends with the fairer-appearing elves and dwarves has automatically put orcs in the "enemy-of-my-ally" category]

And, yet, some humans and orcs have found the ability to inter-relate with each other. Some humans have taken it upon themselves to "pound the orc out" of (usually) orc children, teaching them the ways of "sophistication;" other less-scrupulous humans see the orcs as easily manipulated muscle for their own agendas...expendable mercenaries, easily bought with promises of land and revenge on hated elves, dwarves, etc. For their part, some orcs have decided it's better to live among the humans, learning their ways, then continue to fight a losing war of cultural competition. 

RULES

While orcs have their own forms of worship and magic, shamans and "witch-doctors" are not available as player character classes. Only the classes listed in the PHB (as for half-orc) are available, along with the multi-class and level restrictions listed. Single-class orcs may add +2 to the maximum level in any particular class, subject to normal restrictions (for example, no assassin may progress beyond 15th level).

Orcish player characters have lived and trained extensively with humans. As such, they receive neither the bonuses, nor penalties of other orcs (with regard to fighting in daylight or near an orcish battle standard, etc.). Player character clerics have been initiated into the humans religious practices and advance as a standard cleric, not a shaman, including normal wisdom adjustments; no such character may achieve a level in cleric beyond 4th (6th level if single-classed). All orc player characters speak the common tongue of humans as well as the language of their orc tribe; additional languages can be learned subject to their intelligence.

Player character orcs have both a charisma score and an adjusted charisma score. The adjusted score is two less than the original roll, and never higher than 12, unless magically increased. The adjusted charisma is ONLY used when interacting with humans, elves (and half-elves), dwarves, and gnomes. The adjusted charisma score does not preclude the orc character from entering non-assassin professions.

An orc may be raised from the dead as any other PC race.

Play-Testing The Insanity

So...we finally, FINALLY had a chance to restart the AD&D campaign Monday night.

Sad to admit, but it's been close to six months...just insane the amount of time that's slid by since our last delve. Oh, we've played Dungeons & Dragons since then...I've run games for my kids and their friends (Blizzard Pass as a one-off just a couple weeks back); AD&D even. But we needed to get back to actual play in our (my) game world, not just development.

When last we'd left off, the team had used a staff of summoning to conjure a pack of shriekers, whose shrill screaming upon finding themselves in the afternoon sun managed to drive away the lizard folk they'd been fighting. They then continued their scouring of ancient paths, looking for the sunken city hidden somewhere in the swamp. 

And they found it...or at least the remains of the last surface plaza, complete with a single standing building, a temple of ancient design, its dome cracked from long centuries of neglect, it's massive doors scratched and scarred and bereft of the gold leaf that once covered their frames. 

Enter the temple they did, and choosing NOT to despoil the statue of the goddess they found therein (though tempted by the rod of blue crystal held tightly in its hands) they found a long stairway descending down-down-down into the bowels of the earth. Down to the temple crypts, where they hoped (and expected) to find some sort of treasure, ripe for the plucking. 

Father Barod ("Beanpole") led the way with his hooded lantern. 

Here's the "box text" from DL1 for the Hall of Ancestors:

Dim light shines up through the floor. A vast hall stretches to the east. The ceiling, heavily reinforced, stands solidly above, but below, the floor has fallen away in several places. Hot mists, carrying the odor of decay, rise through the holes in the floor.

Beanpole, the party's 3rd level cleric decided to go check out the gaping hole that cut across the floor of the chamber. 'I'm going to go peek over the edge and see what's down there.' Will Big Jim (the trusted retainer they've had since Bendan Fazier) go with you? 'Yeah, he's staying by my side.'

I did a double-take as I looked at my notes for the chamber:

• There is a 65% chance that any weight greater than 50# within 5’ of a hole will cause the floor beneath it to collapse. The fall to the cavern floor below is 700'.

What? I checked the original text in DL1. Here's what it says:

Any dwarf can tell that the floor is unsafe. The holes open to a 700' drop straight into the lower ruins of the city. Anyone who weighs more than 500 gpw [gold piece weight] and comes within 5' of a hole's edge runs a 65% chance that the floor below him will collapse.

Even if a hero makes it to the edge of a hole, all he sees is a foul mist gathered below.

That's all the text says. And for the most part, my restocking/rewriting of DL1 was focused far more on monster and treasure selection than on environmental hazards. Strange, perhaps that such a deadly trap isn't better telegraphed...especially for a DragonLance adventure (where the "heroes" are expected to succeed). But then it IS telegraphed because "any dwarf can tell that the floor is unsafe" and anyone playing DL1 should have Flint Fireforge (4th level dwarf fighter) as a prominent member of the party. Unfortunately, there are no dwarves in my players' party.

This is a good example of why play-testing is so important. Looking at the encounter area on paper, it doesn't seem terrible (probably one of the reasons I didn't bother adjusting it). Standard chance of springing a trap in OD&D or B/X is 2-in-6 (33% chance)...with something as "obvious" as this hazard, is a double chance (4-in-6, 66%) so unfair? Especially considering that a cautious party might use a 10' pole to probe the floor, or rope up together, or use the lightest party member for exploration?

But even so, some sort of Get Out of Jail Free card could be provided besides "have a dwarf in the party." I wrote before about including "Flinty" as a findable NPC in the adventure, and he IS there, albeit in the lower cavern levels. A better idea might be to have the dwarf stashed in the swamp outside the temple. This gives the PCs a potential benny for taking the non-psychotic approach to dealing with NPCs (find a helpful set of eyes for subterranean hazards); players eager to deal out death to everything on two-legs will thus be justly penalized for their lack of imagination.

Ah, well. Hindsight is 20/20 and all that.

Beanpole weighs scarcely more than 50# soaking wet, but he is dressed in plate and carries 20ish pounds or so of extra gear. I informed the player that the floor creaked mightily as he stretched out his lantern over the edge of the hole and asked him to roll the percentile dice; unfortunately, he rolled a 34. The floor collapsed with a groan taking the cleric with it.

I rolled for Big Jim...though, topping 300# of gear and muscle, this probably should have been automatic. As the Fates were obviously on the same wavelength as myself, the dice came up low and Jim followed his employer into the drop.

The nice thing about having Google at your fingertips: you can quickly find out how long it actually takes to fall 700'. 6.59 seconds it turns out, equivalent to a bit more than one segment. Diego scanned through his spell list for something that might save him...unfortunately, nothing. We did allow him the opportunity to pray for divine intervention on the way down (see page 112 of the DMG), but the gods were apparently satisfied at the doom he'd chosen for himself. 

Sonia, my daughter's character, was quick with a spell of her own; she sent a message to her brother: "you're going to die." Diego was not amused, but Sofia laughed mightily.  Until they discovered that all the torches, oil, etc. had been carried by Beanpole and Big Jim and now the party was left in the subterranean hall without a light source. 

*sigh* Hindsight. 

ANYway...I'll skip the rest of the evening's escapades except to say that no one else died and they DID escape the temple crypt and have now discovered a new PC (Frederick, a gnomish illusionist/thief) that was skulking in the swamp, hiding from lizard men and otyughs. It feels good to get back to playing D&D, and I am immensely hopeful we'll get to play more in the next couple/few days. I'm not sure the players want to continue exploring the Sunken City (their resources are quickly dwindling and they've yet to find anything resembling treasure...well, except for that blue crystal staff embedded in the statue of the goddess). If they don't decide to continue, they will have to deal with matter of 3,000 gold owed to Duke Van-Uz (the Duke could employ two 5th level assassins for 900 g.p. and would still be less out of pocket than the 1,500 he originally gave to bankroll the party). But they might be better served finding a smaller dungeon, closer to civilization. And I'm currently working on a ratty little thing that might do the trick.

; )

However, that'll (probably) have to wait till after Thanksgiving. Lots to do the next couple days.

More later. Hope everyone has a happy holiday! Best wishes to you all!