Killing Gods, Part 1

The other day, in the comments on my Whimsy Addendum, I decried a trend I've seen in a lot of adventure material recently, which is: players encountering (and fighting with) "gods." Part of my annoyance has been with regard to overuse of the scenario (welp, here's another adventure where the main antagonist is a fallen deity...) and part of it has stemmed from the execution: how such encounters are portrayed and used in these adventures. 

And the good Prince of Nothing took umbrage and issued me a challenge, writing:

I think if you could manage to distill the right approach to portraying S&S style deities in DnD, complete with a few examples, you'd be doing the OSR a huge favor.

Wait...what? This is on me?

Set aside from the moment any notion of me doing the OSR "favors" (ridiculous to think they'd take any advice from me, even if I wanted to give it!)...what the hell qualifies me as the authority and resource for this particular subject? I'm just a blogger that runs his mouth...er, keypad...a bit too much with long-winded meanderings. 

On the other hand, I have fought a god or two.

*sigh* Challenge accepted. 

I'd like to first start out with a discussion of the inspiration behind this particular idea, this claim that it is O So Very Sword & Sorcery for grungy, pulp heroes to be going toe-to-toe with gods and godlings. So let's crack out our fantasy literature and take a look. Never mind that these are stories, not games...we understand that these stories are the impetus and foundational pieces for Dungeons & Dragons play. And it's always useful to have a firm handle on one's source material.

First up, everyone's favorite barbarian: Conan. One gets the impression that the gods of Howard's Hyborian age are fairly mortal (much like the Norse gods)...if Conan stuck Crom with 3' of  good, Hyrkanian steel, he'd probably die. However, we never encounter Crom in Howard's stories, perhaps because Crom is an actual deity. Conan kills some godlike frost giants, an ancient "god in a bowl" (appears to be a naga, much like the one in module N1), and an alien time-traveller that resembles a small elephant. These aren't gods: they're monsters. In the bluntest of D&D terms, they are meant to be slain and looted. 

Elric gets prepared to
throw down with the
god of lizards.

Next up, we'll look at Moorcock's albino sorcerer, Elric. He fights all sorts of gods. The "Burning God." Balo the Jester of Chaos. In the end, he is responsible for the death of ALL the chaos lords (gods) including his own patron, Arioch. Except that, actually, he's not doing the killing. It's his Most-Powerful-Artifact-Weapon-In-The-Multiverse (Stormbringer) that is doing the actual soul-sucking, not Elric. In the final battle he does a one-shot spell that summons a multitude of Stormbringers (Stormbringer has siblings), and they fly around killing all the gods. Stormbringer, as an artifact, was forged to slay gods (and to "keep in check" higher powers). It's a plot point of the books. Do your D&D characters carry such an artifact weapon? 

Okay, Fafhrd and Gray Mouser. Haven't read as much of them as I'd have liked, but I can't remember them KILLING any gods. Running afoul of them, getting mixed up with them, fleeing their wrath or being cursed by them...sure, all that. But mortal combat (i.e. the hit point draining kind)? No, I don't think so.

Karl Wagner's Kane...well, I've only had the chance to read Bloodstone, and it's been a while. If memory serves, Kane "kills" a super computer masquerading as a deity. Machines break...they are mundane/mortal, not supernatural. Maybe. I get a little depressed thinking about Wagner; he died so young (age 48, alcoholism). 

I don't remember any hero versus god action in Clark Ashton Smith, but I probably haven't read enough of him. I have C.L. Moore's Jirel of Joiry ordered from Amazon, so apologies if she kills a bunch of godlings and I failed to mention it...haven't yet had the chance to read her stories.

H.P. Lovecraft isn't really an S&S writer, but there's no denying his writing's had an impact on D&D and many OSR offerings. Lots of extreme, alien gods walking amongst men in HPL's stuff. But people don't fight them. They get killed and eaten by them, or possessed, or driven insane. It's not really mano-a-mano. Well, except for a certain Norwegian sailor, who's ship-to-kaiju combat was absolutely NOT stolen by Disney for the climactic battle in The Little Mermaid against the giant octopoid entity. Nope, no way...that scene is straight out of Hans Christian Andersen. Regardless, it's one exception to a multitude of non-combats.

How about non-S&S literature...say, Tolkien's Sauron and all his knockoffs (Donaldson's "Lord Foul," whatever the hell Terry Brooks and Robert Jordan use, etc.). They're "gods" right? And the good guys fight and defeat them?

Well, no. At least in Lord of the Rings, Sauron is never confronted directly, and he's not killed so much as "dispersed" by the Ring's destruction. But perhaps he could have been, when he was mortal. Morgoth was wounded by Feanor with a mortal weapon, after all (elf weapons in Tolkien aren't, strictly speaking, "magical" but, rather, gear of exceptional craft). If he could wound Satan with nothing more than courage and a well-made blade what could the elf lord have done with a typical D&D magic weapon...something invested with supernatural power by a wizard?

Pullman's His Dark Materials (in which a couple kids kill old man God) hardly bears mentioning; not really the same genre. Neither is Piers Anthony's "Immortal Incarnate" series. Dragonlance I'll discuss when I talk about god-fighting in gaming proper. Probably I'm leaving out some (or a lot) of stuff, but I just don't read much fantasy anymore. And, anyway, one would think that "Awesome Confrontations Between Man and Godlike Being" would kind of stand out in Ye Old Memory. I used to read a lot of fantasy, and there ain't much popping up there.

SO...from whence this desire (in D&D) to fight/kill gods?

Just what are these "gods" in fantasy literature? I mean there's GOD, of course (omnipotent, omniscient, unknowable, and unavailable...more a force/influence than a being). Then there are 'the gods,' like the Greek/Norse pantheons (or Babylonian...currently reading Ship of Ishtar)...entities that are uber-powerful, live in a different realm, but have feelings/needs/thoughts that are recognizable by humans. There are supernatural entities from other dimensions/planets (Cthulhu, strange "intelligences," etc.). And then there are mortal beings of immense power that are worshipped as gods, but don't necessarily grant any special favors or divine influence...they simply inspire awe/reverence in lesser mortals (though the same could be said...on a grander scale...of ALL the various "god types" listed).

Different fantasy writers have tackled divinities in different ways (duh, JB) but, perhaps surprisingly, I feel a lot of authors take the approach of their being but one GOD (in the monotheist sense), perhaps with various demons and pretenders, but those certainly aren't necessary (Poul Anderson's Three Hearts, Three Lions is S&S and doesn't require any such entities). Certainly Tolkien is all Christian analogue with fallen angels and whatnot, but Howard's, too, stuff has a mostly Christian (i.e. monotheistic) vibe to it. Even his Conan stuff...while I joked before that Crom was probably mortal enough for Conan to slay, the fact is Crom never actually appears (and neither does Set or Mitra, etc.), nor do those gods grant any sort of "divine powers" to their devotees. Either they are false gods (as would be the typical monotheistic point of view) and their priests simply sorcerers, magicians, and charlatans OR they are just names/aspects of the One True God who (generally) stays out of mortal affairs, allowing folks to exercise free will.

And it makes sense that these writers would take this tack: American pulp writers of the early 20th century were, of course, individuals steeped in Western (generally monotheistic) cultures. They're just writing a fantastical version of the world they grew up in, some with reverence though plenty without.

[writers that leave out questions of divinity from their fantasy work at all...like Vance and Zelazny...I chalk up in the same monotheistic category...the lack of a demiurge points to/emphasizes its existence. Regardless, no one is fighting gods in those books]

There ARE outliers, however, and three of them have had an immense impact on the Dungeons & Dragons game: Fritz Leiber, Michael Moorcock, and Howard P. Lovecraft. Leiber's world of Nehwon is filled with gods of the "pantheon" variety; so is Moorcock's Young Kingdoms (although antihero Elric is always searching for a Grand Designer behind it all). HPL, of course, gives us all his crazy-ass Star Children from the far reaches of space. Of these three authors, I'd judge Leiber and Moorcock to have had the greatest impact on the game as far as "cosmology" is concerned. That being said, I think in all three authors' cases a major takeaway from their stories is: the gods are NOT to be futzed around with.

You don't fight them. You're not going to kill them. You certainly don't loot their bodies.

All of which runs quite counter to D&D's credo.

But I'll be talking about that in my follow-up post, which will be specifically focused on god-fighting in D&D.

: )

F is for Flying Carpet

[over the course of the month of April, I shall be posting a topic for each letter of the alphabet, sequentially, for every day of the week except Sunday. Our topic for this year's #AtoZchallenge? Revamping the Grand Duchy of Karameikos in a way that doesn't disregard its B/X roots]

F is for Flying Carpet, specifically Flying Carpet Airlines of Karameikos.

[okay, let's get this over with...I've got a very full schedule this weekend with baseball games, soccer jamborees, wedding anniversaries (mine), etc.]

Flying Carpet Airlines or (as it's actually called in the books) "Cardia's Carpet Service," like the Elvenguard, appears to be a wholly Mentzer-imagined invention. As far as I can tell, it's first mention is in Mentzer's expert book as part of the Travel from Karameikos section, in which he writes:

"Those in a hurry may wish to consider Cardia's Carpet Service. She is a well-known elf with a flying carpet (heavily armed and rumored to contain pockets of holding). She can take up to two passengers, but reservations are required. The cost is 2 gp/person/mile for 2 passengers, of 5 gp/person/mile for one. The journey from Threshold to Specularum can be flown in one day. She also makes regular trips to Kelven, Selenica, and even Kerendas, but rarely stops at Krakatos and never goes to Luln or Fort Doom..."

There's a little more to the description, but no hard stats are provided for Cardia. She appears again in module B10: Night's Dark Terror (part of the adventure occurs in and around Threshold), but again without stats...it seems Cardia is simply supposed to be part of the scenery, a necessary source of fast travel for footsore adventurers. I mean, certainly no PC would ever think of ambushing her and looting a flying carpet for their own use...good Heavens! That would be so Chaotic!

We'll leave the talk about BECMI's implied morality for another day; there's enough to chew on here with just a chartered flying carpet (available for a flat daily rate of 500 gp!). This...THIS...is the kind of thing I absolutely hated about Glantri, and probably one of the reasons I find Harry Potter's "wizarding world" so annoying: the transformation of magic into something mundane and commonplace, taking away (certainly reducing) any sense of wonder and mystery.

[I'm sorry Potter fans, but if you're using magic to wash your dishes or dispose of your own feces that's the opposite of what I call "magical." Is a toilet magical? To a stone age human, perhaps...but we're not playing cavemen here]

Part of this comes from a simple issue present in most of Dungeons & Dragons: the original game was meant to be hard and challenging, and so many of its rewards (especially magic items) were left without consequences. You fought and dodged and braved untold dangers to get that carpet (or whatever)...now you're going to make me sacrifice a fist-sized ruby or some virgin babe just to activate the thing? Up yours, man! Unfortunately, without some consequences...largely left to the DM...there's no repercussions for pulling out your powerful magic item every time someone with 100 g.p. decides they'd rather fly Threshold to Kelvin nonstop.

There should be consequences, of course: not only flying monsters - like dragons - who should burn Cardia out of the sky (wandering monster chances in the wilderness are pretty common), but also thieves, unscrupulous nobles, and local money-men willing to hire thugs and mercenaries to kill this well-known "entrepreneur." Elves have to sleep sometime (and it should be a simple matter to find her residence when she advertises "Cardia's Carpet Service" on the sign outside). Elves have to eat (and if she's at the local tavern, how hard would it be to slip some poison into her meal?). How much is a flying carpet worth to a person? How much would it cost to hire the assassins needed to take Cardia out? I'm surprised the carpet hasn't already been confiscated by the Ducal Guard (at Stefan's orders) for "the good of the realm." Having a flying carpet in his personal treasury would be far more valuable than any taxes she might be paying.

And, you see, the fact that these kinds of things should have ALREADY HAPPENED long before the player characters ever decided to become adventurers, is what bugs the hell out of me. Mentzer just blithely says "oh, here it is, been operating forever." This is the kind of thing that a DM might throw into her campaign one day when the PCs have been adventuring for a while and have reached a point in their careers that maybe the inconvenience of overland travel to distant locations kind of sucks. But to make it a part of the local retail scene from the get go? Come on, dude. At least if you introduced such an NPC later you could justify her as having powerful friends (the PCs) who would take umbrage if she went mysteriously missing one day. The local baron of Threshold (Patriarch Sherlane) has more important things to worry about than one elf...like running his damn domain.

I can't find any reference to Cardia in Allston's GAZ1 (draw what conclusions you will) though she is back again in the 2nd Edition Karameikos: Kingdom of Adventure (as an 8th level "rogue"...jeez). As stated, there's no such individual mentioned in B/X (i.e. pre-BECMI) sources, so the easiest way to "revamp" this eyesore is simply to cut it from your B/X game...perhaps introducing the NPC Cardia sometime later as an adventure hook when a young, stupid elf decides to open up her "carpet business" and requires protection (or armed escort on her excursions!). That might not be too bad.

If you really want a flying service in your game there are better ways to go than something so mundane as an elf with a flying carpet running a local travel agency. D&D needs to be a little weird and gonzo with this kind of thing if it wants to retain/promote a feeling of wonder and the fantastical. Some possible ideas:

On a smaller scale.

Option #1: a mad hermit / wizard / inventor lives in the forest outside of town where he can tinker with his contraptions in peace (he's been warned off more than once by the locals). His prize possession is his airship: a monstrous conglomerations of whirling gears, pipes belching noxious fumes, and skins inflated with hot air or fantasy hydrogen/helium. Perhaps it was the opus of his now deceased inventor/wizard wife (and he's not quite clear on all its workings); perhaps it's still a "work-in-progress." Regardless, the thing is prone to breakdowns and malfunctions every time he takes to the air...though when it does work, it can make fast time AND tends to scare off most wandering flyers (not dragons, of course...they see it as a challenge to their territory). He can be persuaded to give the PCs a lift...for the right price.

"Just need a couple
of eggs, ma'am."

Option #2: animal trainers (500 g.p. per month; see page X21) that specialize in griffons can be hard to find, but one lives on the outskirts of Threshold, and griffons are known to roost in the mountains just north of the town. Finding eggs and bringing them back safely would certainly be a good adventure; though it might take years before the creature was grown well enough to train for riding. The beast master might already have a few trained adults on-hand that can be hired for (short) rides; however, griffons are notoriously difficult and feisty beasts; they cannot be purchased, housebroken, or kept as pets (and you certainly wouldn't bring them into town!). Even so, they are extremely valuable and any damage that occurs to the animals while "on loan" will need to be paid for before any further services are provided by the trainer.

Have bow, will travel.

Option #3: I kind of dig the witches of Phillip Pullman's His Dark Materials trilogy. Is there any way to get them in the mix? Maybe stashing their community in the western forests of Karameikos, making them a hard-to-find, hard-to-reach, dangerous (and aloof) faction?

Option #4: Stefan has decided he needs his own "ducal air guard" if he is going to be respected by the likes of Thyatia and Alphatia (or simply because he needs to protect his realm from flying menaces). Problem is, he has no real idea of how to put together a flying force. Any such squad is going to be a small and motley crew at best...the archduke does not have the resources to invest in a team of enchanters to make magical devices (let alone any pegasi trainers). It's a good hook to get player characters involved...even if they don't have the means to fly themselves, they can earn a "finders fee" for helping to bring in wizard airships, griffon eggs, and witch archers. And maybe in the process they'll discover (or enchant) their own flying devices and swear allegiance to the archduke. Hey there, flyboy!
; )

B/X Armored Bears

I love bears. I really do.

Not in an "oh, I think I'm a bear and I'm going to party with them all summer long until they eat me" kind of way. I just really appreciate their power and majesty and wish human impact on their continued survival was, well, less. I once saw a pair of polar bears at the zoo in St. Paul, MN in the middle of June and it was one of the most depressing sights I've ever seen. And I've been to Hiroshima and wept at the memorial there!

Anyway, enough of that Lefty gibberish...we're talking D&D after all, where monsters aren't endangered...PCs are! The polar bear is a fierce opponent in any edition of the game, though I've had few opportunities to use them. How badass are polar bears? On average they'll edge an owl bear in one-on-one combat, and those things are vicious. A fighter with a 13 strength wearing plate and shield can kill one in melee...provided he's at least 15th level (9th level with all +1 gear, 7th level with all +2 gear). Not bad for a 6 hit dice monster.

[yes, I realize the AD&D polar bear in the MMII is even beefier with 8+8 hit dice...I play B/X and HD 6 is just fine for me]

Now, there are only a couple things that makes the bear vulnerable to low- and mid- level characters (at least when acting in a coordinated group). One is the bears' weak armor class (AC6 is better than a Normal Human but even a NH can hit it more than one-third the time), and it's low intelligence (which results in a reduced saving throw as the bear is considered an "unintelligent" monster).

Of course, if we were talking about the panserbjorne of Phillip Pullman's His Dark Materials trilogy, that would be another story entirely. Intelligent, cunning warriors and dressed in plate armor forged from meteoric "sky iron," these guys are THE brawn of their particular world. Did I mention they live only for battle?

I've written before (or at least I thought I had...couldn't find a post to reference) that I thought the parallel universe world of His Dark Materials would make a great setting for a Basic Role-Playing game (like ElfQuest and Stormbringer). But why horde all the goodness for a system I don't even play? Why not throw the armored bears into my B/X world and watch the PCs run for cover?

Why not indeed?

ARMORED BEAR

Armor Class: -1

Hit Dice: 6

Move: 120' (40')

Attacks: 2 claws/1 bite

Damage: 1-6/1-6/1-10

No. Appearing: 1 (1-2)

Save As: Fighter 6

Morale: 10

Treasure Type: B

Alignment: Neutral

Armored bears, called panserbjorne, are a race of sentient polar-bears whose opposable thumbs and innate sense of metallurgy allow them to work as exceptional metal-smiths. They are born to battle and fashion for themselves plate armor from meteoric iron (called "sky iron" and found only in their cold northern homeland) which they treat with the same reverence and respect as a samurai does his katana. Armored bears have an exceptional sense of honor and do not give their word lightly; they are a no-nonsense people and can detect deception and illusions quite easily (+4 to saves when applicable). They have the same ability to hug victims for additional (2D8) damage as any bear, if they are able to hit with both paws in a single round.

All armored bears speak their own language as well as the Common tongue of humans. Though generally solitary, the panserbjorne have a king that may call them together in time of war.