Saturday, October 8, 2016

Play Misty For Me

My post Wednesday about the new Luke Cage Netflix series left out a lot of things in hopes of maintaining pointed brevity (not usually my strong suit). Some of the thoughts I neglected to mention included the following:

  • New York is an absolutely huge place and for once I watched a series that gave it a real sense of its scale. Like how a single person...even the super heroic Cage...can simply vanish into its immensity, simply by forgoing a flamboyant costume and putting on a hoody. 
  • The writing of the show was both hit and miss. The misses have to do with the overall story arcs and pacing which, a bit like a musical progression in jazz seemed to meander a bit in a way that offended my staid "story sensibilities." However, the hits just kept on coming when it comes to the writing of the characters, which are almost entirely made up of complex, nuanced individuals. The heroes aren't perfect saints, and the villains aren't all irredeemable sinners...in its own small way, Luke Cage manages to capture both the ugliness and beautiful potential that's in all of us.
  • A lot of articles I've read about the series compares it to the "blaxploitation" flicks of the 70s, but I think that's pretty fucking lazy analysis. There are plenty of films out there that use the same formulaic ingredients as blaxploitation (including corrupt authority, street crime, and one misunderstood hardass doing the vigilante thang) that feature white actors with names like Seagal, VanDamme, Stalone, Russell, Swayze, Willis, etc. Despite the music, despite the racial themes, Luke Cage is a series that ignores (or condemns) much of the machismo from those earlier films. This isn't a show about a guy getting over on "the man," and while it's sexy enough, it has little to do with the protagonist's sexual prowess (often an integral part of the blaxploitation genre).

Which leads me to the REAL point of this post: talking about Simone Missick in her role as the show's co-protagonist, Misty Knight.

"I don't seek justice. I stalk it."
Yeah, I sure didn't see that one coming. I was really looking forward to watching Luke Cage (kept checking Ye Old Netflix every week or so to see the status) based on the strength of A) Marvel's previous three offerings (Daredevil, Jessica Jones, and Daredevil 2), as wells B) Mike Colter's turn as the titular Cage character. And, yes, the show managed to keep my rather high expectations high on both counts (Colter is a bonafide star, and his interpretation of the Cage character has turned me into a fan of a hero that...previously...only cracked my top-tier by dint of his team associations). What I was NOT expecting, and what's blown me away the more I've considered it, is the way the show creators decided to double-down on the amount of Hero by giving us huge whopping side of Misty Knight who, as I've mentioned before, may be my second favorite super heroine, after Babs Gordon.

Folks who don't know the comic book history of Misty should know that, like Luke Cage, she's best known as one-half of her own dynamic duo, sometimes known as Nightwing Restorations, sometimes known as the Daughters of the Dragon.

[folks interested in Misty's early comic book history would do well to check out this series of posts at Out of this World from back in 2011]

The comic book Misty appears to be originally inspired by the likes of Cleopatra Jones, Christie Love, and most any Pam Grier character from the 1970's. She's a tough, street-smart ex-cop who runs a private detective agency and battles super-criminals and crime lords with chop-sockey martial arts and a large caliber revolver. The "Marvel touch" (I suppose) is that she sports a bionic right arm, having lost her natural one in the same explosion that ended her law enforcement career. Outside her own stories (alongside her half-Asian partner Colleen Wing), her biggest claim to fame for her first couple decades came as the on-again/off-again girlfriend of Danny Rand (Iron Fist), frequently saving his sorry ass after he'd been whipped by someone tougher than himself. However, in the last decade or so she's been pulled out of mothballs by the powers-that-be and put in charge of a number of different super teams, a kind of cyborg-Oracle type whose lack of superpowers has no effect on her ability to command and lead.

Much tougher than
Electrawoman & Dynagirl.
[I don't know why it is that I love cyborg characters so much. I guess I was a big fan of the $6 Million Dollar Man as a kid...all those fights against Sasquatch and Fembots and whatnot...]

The Misty Knight in Luke Cage is quite the step down from the bionic superwoman leading war-goddesses in Asgard. She's still a New York cop (detective, not beat), and she still has two (non-augmented) arms. She's good at her job, she likes her job, and she's a lot likely to engage in real (well, "TV real" anyway) police procedure than kick ass or blaze away, John Woo style. She also shares nearly as much screen time as Mike Colter (though rarely in the same scenes), making the character feel very much like the co-protagonist of the show, following a parallel story arc.

"Parallel" is the key word, though. She's got her own bag of problems, drama, and baggage to deal with. She has her own history, her own tragic past, much of which is revealed in a great series of one-on-one scenes with her IA investigator (episode 9). Missick is fantastic in the role, bringing humor, grit, and nuance to the character. My understanding is that she's a veteran stage actor, but regardless of whether or not that's true, she brings a smoldering subtlety to the character where someone of lesser skill might instead bring explosive caricature. For an actor, the writing of the Misty Knight character (in this series) is fantastic...it's meaty in all sorts of ways, giving plenty of emotional layers and biz to play with. But you have to have a competent actor to pull it off, and the one they landed is excellent. A lot of internet fans are already calling for a Misty Knight solo series (the same way people were calling for a Punisher series after Daredevil). While that would be cool and all, I have to say that Luke Cage belongs almost as much to Misty as Luke does...they're not quite a dynamic duo, but you're often getting two for the price of one in the show.

Having said THAT...I have no idea how the MCU creators will ever bring this character "up to spec" for those of us who are longtime fans. There was a chance in this season [*SPOILER ALERT*] to blow up both her arm and her career and leave her in a place to form Nightwing Restorations, but the writers didn't take it. And what's more, why should they when they already have a hardboiled detective lady (in the form of Jessica Jones) to run with? Meanwhile, I can't see how this particular version of Misty Knight would EVER fall for a schmuck like Danny Rand...I mean, love is blind and all, but Luke seems to be far more to her taste. And how does one ever get around to dating the partner of the Hero of Harlem?

I mean...sorry, Danny. There is far-fetched (like bionic arms and mystic extra-dimensional kung fu temples), and then there's REALLY far-fetched. You watch Luke Cage and tell me if her character would take Finn Jones over Mike Colter. These MCU shows on Netflix appear to have strict caps when it comes to how much fantasy they'll put into a series.
; )

And Claire thought Luke was
"corny." Jesus, Iron Fist.

Wednesday, October 5, 2016

Always Forward (Luke Cage)

Yes, I'm back...in the United States, at least, if not as a full-time blogger (settling in takes time, folks). In fact, I realize I should be writing my little "back in the U.S. of A." post first, but...well, Luke Cage, y'all. It's become almost mandatory for me to write these little MCU series reviews. At least this time I managed to hold off until I'd finished binging the whole thirteen episodes.

Before I begin, I'd like to first start with a couple-three caveats: #1 I'm a white dude. #2 While I've read comics since I was a kid, Luke Cage/Power Man was not one I ever read...in fact, I mainly know the guy through his partnership with Iron Fist, whose comics I have spent a bit of money on. And #3 I am not now and have never been a New Yorker. Have never even visited the city save for a couple stopovers at its airports.

[by the way, if you'd like to read a couple of excellent reviews of Luke Cage from folks who aren't some white dude, I'd suggest this one and this other from the The Nerds of Color. Both come at the show from different angles and are well worth the read]

That last caveat (#3) is important. My knowledge of New York comes mainly through films and television shows I've seen over the years. New York is, without a doubt, the most famous city in my country, but I don't know it intimately in the same way that a New Yorker does. All I know is its reputation(s), its glamorizations, its demonizations, its glorification. I've made the acquaintance of New Yorkers over the years, both native and transient. But I have no first hand knowledge of the city. Hell, when I was a kid I thought Brooklyn and The Bronx were the same thing. Until recently, I thought Hell's Kitchen was a fictional neighborhood created by Stan Lee and Marvel comics.

The reason that it's important is that Luke Cage is set almost entirely in the Manhattan neighborhood of Harlem. As much as the show is about its titular superhero, it is at least as much about Harlem. Harlem features the same way to the series as NYC as a whole featured to the HBO series Sex and the City. Not only is the neighborhood showcased...it's location, culture, and history is damn near essential to the story being told. 

Now, as a non-New Yorker, I can't say how much of the Harlem on display is factual, how much of it is fictional, and how much of it is semi-historical (borrowed from the comic book fiction which may or may not have been based in factual reality). What I can say is that the way Harlem is displayed works for me in a way that the Hell's Kitchen setting of Daredevil simply doesn't. Hell's Kitchen is like Gotham City to me...oh, look, here's these poor folks and gangs and corruption and their vigilante hero is trying to clean up the streets. It's a setting that seems to exist solely to give the protagonist something to punch out. Harlem is much more than that. It is (or was) the Black Mecca of America before Atlanta...and its name carries cultural significance and resonance to this day. It's not a place to go and punch people. It's a place of cultural pride for many black Americans.

Of course, I'm not a black American, and I never took African-American studies classes in college, nor courses in black American art or music or literature. Those things simply weren't in my sphere of interest. And even so, I still know of Harlem and its cultural importance...that should say something about the place.

SO...as a white dude from the west coast who has historically been only semi-interested in Luke Cage, allow me to say that I believe the Luke Cage series is both culturally significant and important...perhaps the most important entry yet into the Marvel film/TV universe. The fact of its Harlem setting makes it only more so (and appropriately, in my opinion).

Like all the MCU series on Netflix it's well worth binge-watching. I personally love the 13 episode format, not only because of the comic book feel (episodic, right?) but because it allows character and plot development over a 10+ hour span that you just can't get in a 150 minute movie. Following the trend of these series, Luke Cage has only upped the weirdness factor, making references to Thor's hammer, alien technology, and the displaying the comic book mad scientist origin of super powered Cage (unlike, say, Jessica Jones). The series may have street level villains and stakes...saving the 'hood rather than the world, for example...but this is a real superhero show with powers and F/X a lot less subtle than the stuff on display in Daredevil and Jessica Jones. Which, for the comic book fan, is pretty cool, especially considering that the street level view gives the viewer the chance to see these effects in an almost "real world" way. What do you do with bullet-proof skin and super-strength when the issues you face aren't world conquering aliens or genocidal robots or super Nazis or whatever? Here's one vision of that.

However, even with his world shaking abilities...and make no mistake, the guy is badass...we have a decidedly human character in Cage. He's a person many of us can identify with...a dude who doesn't want to be terribly involved in the drama (despite his abilities to make a difference); one more concerned with getting a lady and staying out of jail than with being some sort of "superhero." A guy who wants to do the right thing, but who doesn't want to shoulder the responsibility of being an Avenger-type. And I can dig it. This Luke Cage is a far cry from the comic book caricature of the angry black dude willing to confront Dr. Doom in his castle because the villain welched on a debt. That guy was all about "getting paid" (why else would he form a group called Heroes For Hire?). To their credit, the show creators kept the idea of a reluctant hero, but didn't resort to a two-dimensional stereotype, instead making the character's psychology richly layered, allowing Cage to mature and develop, while still being a hero from the get-go. Cage has his angry moments, but it's not caricature...it's part of an evolving character being drawn into a higher purpose. As with all of Marvel's best characters, there is a dichotomy in Cage...a tension between two conflicting sides of his personality.

This isn't anything new to the MCU series on Netflix, of course...they've managed from the beginning to craft excellent, watchable, richly nuanced shows starring comic book characters. That's not the reason why I call Luke Cage "important" and "significant." No, what makes the show culturally important is that this quality superhero series features black protagonists...normal, living, human Black Americans. Not ancient gods with amnesia (Hancock). Not half-vampires (Blade). Not zombie dudes raised from the dead (Spawn). And in similar fashion to the recent Daredevil and its treatment of Matt Murdoch's blindness, the writers do not shy away from, nor gloss over, the race of the show's characters, nor the racial tensions that exist in our country today. Luke Cage is not some sort of allegory for recent events and issues in the way shows like, oh, say, Boston Legal would use itself as a platform for examining various hot-button-of-the-week topics. But the simple fact of the matter is, race and ethnicity and the color of one's skin still continues to matter in this country, and Luke Cage is a remarkable television show for using the superhero genre (and all its tired tropes) as a lens to examine, review, and reflect upon this section of our culture.

Because love of and enjoyment of superheroes isn't just a white person thing (duh), no matter how flooded the market may be with white (male) superheroes. Superhero stories are wish fulfillment in a near pure form. Wouldn't it be great if we could teleport to work? Or turn invisible when the ex- came around. Or punch out evil with our super strength? Or have the healing power to fight our cancer? Or the suped-up metabolism to have six-pack abs without doing sit-ups or giving up our beer? Everybody can dig on day dreaming and wish fulfillment, escapist fantasies. Most every person who's ever been bullied or persecuted (or worse) has, at one time or another, wished they had bulletproof skin, or laser eyes, or metal claws...some way to fight back, some way to feel powerful after feeling powerless. And it's no secret that people of color in this country have a long and on-going history of mistreatment, in ways great and small, simply due to the fact of their non-whiteness. 

Luke Cage may just be the ultimate anti-bully fantasy.

But while superheroes are enjoyable fantasies, they also act as modern myths and inspirations, something to which we can aspire. Not their superpowers, of course...we can't bombard ourselves with radiation and expect to grow wings and fly. But their actions, their heroism, their altruism, their courage, their compassion, their self-sacrifice...these things can be a beacon for us. Though they are fantasies, superheroes can act as role-models, fictional though they are. We may be drawn to them for the escapist wish fulfillment they provide (in a way we may not be drawn to public servants of a less spectacular nature) and can learn from their examples...both good and bad. Spider-Man's mantra of "with great power comes great responsibility" is based on a cautionary lesson (he paid the price when failing to follow his own motto). Luke Cage is about learning a similar lesson, though with the specific emphasis on standing-up for others. 

[it's funny how people throughout the series are always telling Luke to "take care of himself" - him, the guy with the bulletproof skin - and his constant refrain is "always." In the end, though, he realizes that his "taking care" often involves him keeping his head down, keeping on the run, trying to avoid getting mixed up in trouble and that doing THAT is not only an irresponsible non-use of his abilities, but a disservice to who he is as a person. Taking care of himself, nurturing his soul, eventually comes to mean "taking a stand"]

Having a normal, relatable human person of color to take the reins of a superhero series is nothing to scoff at...it's nothing to throw away, off the cuff. Our minds shape our reality, affecting our health and well-being. To have a show that features protagonists of color doing heroic stuff is powerful. Even if they're not dealing with POC issues (there is never, for example, a scene of Luke Cage being harassed while browsing in a store, nor Luke being pulled over in a case of racial profiling), the mere fact that THEY are on display in all their heroic (and heroically flawed) glory is powerful, validating stuff. If I was black, I'd be saying "it's about damn time." Not necessarily because I'm tired of seeing Spider-Man or Captain America or Batman but just because, hey, let's tell a story that features superheroes (and their arch-villains) who look a little bit more like me. Because the fact of the matter is there are heroes and villains belonging to all spectrums of human pigmentation.

And because, fuck you Hollywood. That's why.

I have a lot more to say about the Luke Cage series, including a discussion of the show's plotting  (it feels like two seasons in one), its excellent cast (I am really digging Rosario Dawson as an anchor for these MCU series, just BTW), discussions of Cage with regard to his gaming profile (important when you're writing what purports to be a gaming blog), plus something that probably needs to be a very, looong post on Misty Knight. However, this post is already uber-long, so that'll all have to wait for a future date...perhaps tomorrow, if I have time.

Anyway, it's good to be back.
: )

Tuesday, August 23, 2016

All My Life In A Bag

I leave Paraguay, almost certainly for the last time, on Thursday night. It's exciting and nerve-wracking and bittersweet all at the same time.

My son is VERY excited to be going back to Seattle. He is at a good age to do it...he'll certainly miss his friends (he has several good ones here), but the sting will be a lot less than when he's older. How many school chums from kindergarten do you remember and pine for?

This is "me."

It's a little surreal seeing my bag packed. We have a single suitcase for each of us (plus a couple carry-ons with diapers and clothes for a short stint in Panama), and it needs to include all our clothes, shoes, and toys (including books and DVDs). That I could fit my entire life from here into a single bag...wow. Actually, it's not so strange that I have so little to pack (the bulk of my possessions remain in Seattle with my beagles). No, it's that I was able to exist down here for so many years with so little of the "stuff" I consider essential. My house back in the States may be ready for a serious purging of the extraneous upon our arrival.

Of course, not EVERYTHING is going in the big bag. The really important essentials will be going with me in my trusty backpack:

My research books.

I doubt I'll have time to blog anything more before I get back to the US of A...and even then I'll be doing a shit-ton of "transitioning" (getting Diego settled in school and Sofia in some type of daycare arrangement in addition to job searching). But I'll be "making the rounds" and trying to keep abreast of the blog-o-sphere as much as possible.

Wish me luck, folks.

Monday, July 4, 2016

Happy 4th of July

Just in case folks were curious, I am back in Paraguay (have been back for a few days), after a rather delightful trip to Spain. I won't bore folks with the details, save to once again reiterate that it's a country I highly recommend visiting. I might get around to posting some pictures one of these days...

I will say that I had to chance to check out some actual battle axes from the 12th to 14th century while I was there (one of the nice things about a country that fought a lot of medieval wars both within and without its borders: it's got a lot of D&D-flavored museums). None of them were of of the long, "Dane axe" type made famous by the English housecarls, but even so...with a single exception...ALL of them would have required two-hands to use properly. A battle axe is just so damn unwieldy given the length of the haft, and the size of the blade. Even the one "exception" which I judged as single-handed based on its (relatively smaller) scale, was still a damn burly weapon. The shortness of the its haft would have allowed it to be used one-handed (presumably with a shield), but you would have had to have really tremendous arm strength, especially in any kind of protracted battle. We're talking forearms like tree trunks.

Consequently, I'm inclined to revise most everything I've written about battle axes over the years. That is, the B/X battle axe may actually be perfectly fine as modeled. *sigh*

Hope all the Americanos out there are having a good 4th. I really wish I could celebrate it with you.

Thursday, June 16, 2016

Taking (the) God(s) Out

In less than 24 hours I will be in Toledo, Spain.

"Holy Toledo" is perhaps my favorite city in Europe...a beautiful town with thousands of years of culture and one that has the distinction of (historically) being home to three major religions...Christianity, Judaism, and Islam...all cooperating and getting along harmoniously. Toledo celebrates this piece of their history, a lovely example of true religious tolerance from a time on our planet when people were killing each other for "religious reasons" more often than now. And this in a town still renowned for its sword-making.

Not sure if it will be as fun with a five- and
two-year old in tow. We'll see.
I'm looking forward to being there again. There are few places where I've found a true and pleasant sense of "serenity." Mount Constitution on Orcas Island (in the San Juans). Assisi, famed home of St. Francis and St. Claire, in Italy. Flathead Lake in Montana. A couple others I'm probably forgetting. It's nice to feel serene and at peace. It's helps me to see the world with a larger perspective. Maybe it makes me feel closer to God.

I've never been an atheist. I did the agnostic bit in the early 90s, wondering why God (or whatever) would allow terrible things to happen, etc. and figuring humans must have just created these religion-thangs out of desperation. These days, though, my feelings are fairly concrete. I believe there is a God (call It what you will) and I believe God cares about us. As in, God gives a shit what's happening down here on Earth.

Not that we can divine God's will or plan (save for some of the larger strokes...loving each other, getting along, learning from our mistakes, making the world better, etc.)...but God's not some divine clockmaker that wound up the universe and "let 'er rip." No, there's an ongoing attention to what's going on here. God cares how this is all going to play out over time. And God's set the table for us in a particular way, specifically so that we can have the experiences that we do, make the choices that we will...for good or not.  The world we live in a place we've created collectively as a product of those choices. And while that may not be a particularly comforting fact, it means we have the power to shape it differently, should we so choose.

At least, that's what I believe. The particular "guidebook" (Bible, Torah, Quran) isn't nearly as important as what you choose to do with it. I don't see God favoring a particular institution any more than I see God favoring one football team over another.

Which brings me round to my latest thoughts on D&D...specifically, the absolute gall of the concept of "clerical magic."

[how's that for a 90 degree turn?]

Plenty of folks before me have decried the presence of clerics in D&D based on their lack of "fit" with either A) their lack of fit with the game's sword & sorcery roots, or B) their inappropriateness to the game's murderhobo premise, or C) some other conceptual gripe. But have we considered the base conceit of the class? That a being (or beings) of divine power rather whimsically bestow magical powers on these mortal followers?

From a theological point of view it's fairly ridiculous. Leave aside for the moment that, in measurement of power (if not, perhaps, overall effect) the non-divine magic of wizards is at least equal and probably greater in might to that of the cleric's patron...that discussion is simply an added cherry of incredulousness. Leaving that aside, consider the cosmological implications, compared to our own experienced reality. Here in the Real World, God (or Divinity or the Universe or Karma or whatever) works through Its creations...whether you're talking the actions of individuals and societies or the eruption of volcanoes and the glacial pace of evolution. There are no divinely bestowed "powers" (other than those we already possess) given to be activated on a whim. When we see something that we consider a miracle, it is something unexplainable in our usual terms, and it tends to be a scarce occurrence...not something that occurs on a daily, willed basis.

Why would God...or the gods...take such direct action? Or perhaps more interestingly, if they wanted to take direct action, why work through mortal mediums? The standard "fantasy answer" usually ranges from "the gods have chosen/vowed not to directly interfere in the affairs of mortals" to "mortal minds cannot comprehend the motives of deities." But if these are deities (and the game defines them as such), then aren't they the creators of the game "universe?" And wasn't it created to their liking in such a way that brooks no direct interference (for if they'd needed it different, they would have made it so)? Why now are they bunging the whole thing up? Is it all a game to the gods? Some sort of sick (or, worse, mediocre) joke?

If it really is the cosmology, I would expect nearly every individual of the game world to be following the clerical path...certainly more than other adventuring class. There is no real faith or belief in the unseen that is required: the proof of the gods and their miraculous gifts are readily available for all to see. Only the most deluded, hard-cased fool would walk a godless path in such a universe, and it would be a strange adventurer indeed who would shy away from such power.

Just think about having the power to heal yourself and your loved ones. How many of us have wished for such magical powers...so much more useful than the ability to throw a ball of fire. Forget raising the dead...let me just fix my sprained wrist or my chronic back ache. Let me just cure my wife's cancer. It's not like the requirements for the cleric class are so difficult to make. In B/X there are none (just give up using edged weapons? hell, that's easier than quitting nicotine). Even in AD&D the class is open to any human with a WIS of 9+...that's barely "average."

And just consider the "afterlife" implications. Really, how many humans are interested in ending up in Hell or the Abyss when they die? Given the evidence on display, you'd figure only the tragically insane would walk the path of the Evil High Priest...unless D&D's version of hell is somehow a lot nicer that the way it's portrayed in the movies. And if the good-aligned religions in such a universe are anything like the ones we have in real life, I would strongly suspect the institutional members to worry a LOT less about temporal power and political machinations, considering the true knowledge of Divine Law that they'd possess.

Okay fine...so what? Just where am I all going with this? A few years ago I wrote this post expressing the opinion that there should probably be more religion...or more religious consideration...in role-playing games given our basic human condition. I still think that. And I don't think gods-granted clerical spells are at all necessary for such considerations. You don't need magic for religion to have a profound impact on your fantasy world (see Game of Thrones).

However, I also wrote (a few days ago) that, for the most, I like the design of the cleric as a character concept. That is to say, I like the basic (game) mechanics of the character, even though I have some issues with how it scales over time (and what that does to your game). But what's been irking me lately is the "fluff" behind the class...this whole idea of them being granted these miraculous powers by their deities. It doesn't jibe with me. There are plenty of stories of saints and crusaders and agents of the gods who seemed to have certain "blessings" bestowed on them...things that would lead the faithful to believe even as their detractors scoffed. You don't see much of the concrete manifestation of magical powers attributed to God or the gods. Certainly not in such a systematic way as the D&D system.

Anyway, I have found two different ways to handle this in a way that's satisfactory to me. The first is the way I've approached the cleric class in that B/X supplement I was working on a couple months back (still need to finish those last few pages...). The gist is that all the clerics are worshippers of the same God (regardless of the name they use for it), and that alignment is simply a description of the character's personality, not some sort of "cosmic side-picking." In other words, there are no "evil high priests" (well, there are, but they aren't clerics per se...), and your cleric may be cowardly, or selfish, or a bullying tyrant, etc. Clerical magic is much closer to magic-user magic, being a product of specific ritual and prayer and is thus learned (not "bestowed"). Clerics are thus a bit more limited (compared to standard B/X) with regard to spell access...but at least they make a bit more sense (it's a tougher path). Oh, yeah...and no reversed spells.

It's still a fantasy class with fantastical powers, but it works with the premise of a world being assaulted by demonic forces of supernatural evil. And those dark forces offer their own temptations and lures of power (both temporal and otherwise) as they try to restructure the fabric of reality. That, I suppose, is reason enough for the gods to offer a little divine help to their mortal followers.

The other tact I'm taking is with the home-brew campaign I've started developing (see this post regarding the whys and wherefores). At the moment, I'm working out a re-skin of the cleric class that leaves the abilities while completely redefining it. Yes, they will still be "priestly" types. No, they will not be getting their spells from "higher (or lower) powers." More on that later, perhaps...I won't bore you anymore than I already have.

Right now, I have to get some sleep. Got a long flight in the morning.
: )

Friday, June 10, 2016

Do You Want To Die? (Clerics)

I could devote a whole week to talking about B/X clerics. Hell, I've done it before (I've somehow written a ton about the class over the years), and new ideas and thoughts just continue to bubble to the surface. If I was so inclined, I suppose the subjects I'd want to address would include:
  • An alternate interpretation of "clerics"
  • Forget clerical alignment
  • Losing reverse spells
  • Priests in Tekumel
  • Turning and the undead
  • Warrior-priests of Phum
Plus a couple others that I don't have "catchy titles" for.

One of the game projects I'm currently working on is a D&D-style heartbreaker that doesn't include clerics as a class (there's actually a LOT it doesn't include, but we're just talking about clerics at the moment). It still has priests, of course, though of the Lankhmar, "let's-fleece-the-public" variety, NOT the adventuring type.

The problem with this kind of approach is that it ix-nays all those happy little "Get Out O Jail Free" cards the cleric has up her sleeve: cure disease, neutralize poison, remove curse, raise dead, etc. Having access to the magical repertoire of a cleric in your campaign setting takes a lot of the sting out of the D&D game. It may be inconvenient to raise your dead buddy and remove his "Mummy Rot" (or whatever), but at least it's possible, given time and (presumably) a large enough sack of gold.

The problem is that having ready access to a cleric of high enough level (i.e. a PC) any "sting" can be removed altogether, making the game feel far too easy for the players. At the lower levels, it's a little irksome to have the party exit the dungeon four or five times in a session in order to re-memorize that single sleep spell. By the middle levels, they're still engaging in this practice...in order to have access to those beloved healing spells.

The AD&D DMG gives guidelines for the buying clerical magic: 100gp for a cure light wounds, 350gp for a cure serious wounds, 1000gp for a cure disease or neutralize poison, etc. But what is the real cost for a party of adventurers with a competent cleric? In B/X play, a cleric has access to all these spells (yes, up to 4th level spells) by 6th level. Practically speaking, it's only a couple days wait (and consumption of iron rations) to have your party fully healed. A 7th level cleric in B/X has access to ALL clerical spells, including raise dead...your party need never fear death again, so long as you keep your bishop well defended. And clerics reach that lofty level faster than any other class, save thieves, needing only 50,000xp to do so.

That's pretty lightweight to hold the power of life and death in your hands. Peanuts, really. AD&D more that quadruples this requirement (upping the level of experience needed as 9th for a whopping 225,000xp), and all later editions (other than BECMI) follow suit.

It's been a long time since I've had a player who made it to those heights of holy power in actual play. I've allowed pre-gen clerics of 7th level on a couple (that is, two) occasions in recent memory, but they were packing spells other than raise dead, and they were killed before they had a chance to repose themselves and use such necromancy. However, I can remember old AD&D campaigns that featured high level clerics (both PC and NPC), and the access to such powerful healing magic made it far more difficult for me (as a DM) to challenge the players. In true adversarial fashion, I struggled mightily to find canonical creatures and adventures that would circumvent the party's ability to recover from wounds and effects...to make the sting of those things have impact, to strike fear in the players' hearts.

D&D should not be a cakewalk, after all.

But it still needs to be fun, and removing clerics and their magic from the game has the potential to make it less fun. Frustrating even. If a blown saving throw means the end-of-the-road for a PC...because there's no counter...the game becomes one of paranoia and waiting for the axe to fall. Will this be the week my character gets bitten by a spider or giant rat, or is flattened by one swing of the cyclops's club? The week that I need to roll up a new character because I had a single instance of bad luck?

Over the years, I haven't voiced all that many complaints about the B/X cleric. Fact is, I find the class as written to be pretty darn good. I like the lack of a spell at 1st level...I like the (slight) delay of gratification as the character needs to "earn her spurs" (or whatever). She's still plenty competent with good armor, turning ability, and saving throws. I like how the cleric (in B/X) can receive bonuses to melee from a good strength, which allows her to be even more effective in melee.

I think the cleric's HPs in B/X are modeled perfectly (D6 every level to nine with +1 per level after). The class's XP rate of advancement is just fine up through 8th level, though I wish there was a slowed rate beginning at name level (similar to the B/X thief). And I like the concept of clerical magic being different from arcane (magic-user/elf) magic, even if there is little difference in the mechanics.

But there is room for balance at the top end of the scale. I'm just going to put this out there: I've spent an awful lot of time with Holmes Basic over the last year or so...reading it, dissecting it, digesting it. And I've done this because I am extremely enamored with a couple-few things, and two of those things are Holmes's presentation of the cleric and the fighter. Unlike the thief and magic-user, there are no issues of scale with these characters at the low levels, and I find the de-emphasis on mechanical advantage (bonuses for ability scores, variation of weapon damage) to be a refreshing change of pace.

But there is still room for improvement at the "top end" of the spectrum...at least with regard to the cleric. B/X shows the pitfalls inherent in the extrapolation of the character class from its "basic" roots (the Cook/Marsh expert set was written to be somewhat compatible with Holmes, after all). It's not that I'm dissatisfied with the class as a concept...it's the execution in play (at least at the mid- to high levels) that I dislike. But going to the opposite extreme...removing the class altogether...makes for some tough row hoeing in your usual, dungeon-delving campaign.

Balance. Death in the game should be a setback, an inconvenience...it should give the players an interesting choice (do we spend the time and resources to bring this character back to life? or has the character 'run its course?'). It shouldn't be impossible...this is a fantasy world, after all. But neither should it be incredibly easy. And finding that middle ground needs to be applied to other "penalty effects" (poison, disease, level drain, etc.) in D&D.

Balance. The rules regarding petrification (and restoration of a petrified character) are just about perfect in my opinion. It's a rarely encountered effect (and one that has a save), but it is difficult to reverse requiring both A) a wizard that knows the spell, and B) has the willingness to burn a 6th level spell slot. Even a 14th level magic-user only knows a total of three 6th level spells (in B/X), and there are so many other good ones to choose from...disintegrate, invisible stalker, anti-magic shell, reincarnation, death, etc. Clerical magic doesn't require such hard choices...and that's a pity.

All right, enough rambling. Got to get back to something.
Hard not to tip the scales.

Thursday, June 9, 2016

The Barbaric Edge

All right, you guys finally broke me. You don't know how tempted I've been to break my self-imposed "blogging ban" this last week. Clerics! I want to write shit-tons about clerics! But I've held off and held off. I cannot, however, maintain silence in the face of a really, really good idea, even if I dislike its execution...especially when it fires my own pistons.

So it is with this latest post from John Slater over at Land of Nod regarding the "edge" displayed by the barbarian protagonists of Bob Howard (and emulated by pulp S&S writers everywhere). The idea that such rugged individuals, by dint of their hard lives and uncouth nature, are a cut above civilized folk is a standard fantasy trope...and one that begs for the modeling and re-modeling (or at least re-examination) of a "barbarian class" time and again. And again.

*Bleah* (that's the sound of me gagging)

I know I've taken a couple-three whacks at the idea over the years, though none of them have "stuck" in my own campaigns...though perhaps that's as much influenced by my personal bias (I like the standard B/X classes) and/or folks' aversion to the idea of playing some primitive malcontent stereotype. Regardless, having a barbarian "class" hasn't worked for me. It just comes down to a set of particular themed bonuses or abilities, and the CONCEPT of the character gets lost. This is why the barbarian class of 5E is so stupid. It's not about someone wanting to model a "barbarian;" it's about wanting a rage bonus in melee combat.

[yes, yes...for some of you it MIGHT be about playing a barbarian. Shouldn't it be a background than? Something to be added to ANY class...barbaric shamans, thieves, etc.? And just what background is a barbarian supposed to take, anyway? Aside from outlander, it would take a bit more effort to work with most of the other 5E backgrounds...but I digress]

The word "barbarian" comes from the Greeks, which they used for all those "uncivilized" Germanic tribes that lived north of their ancient empire. The word means "bearded guys" or hairy ones or something, but it's really a derogatory term for people who don't speak Greek. In other words, "I see you are talking, but all I hear is 'bar-bar-bar.'" Still, though, "beards." We see that today in Romance languages (barba means beard in Spanish, for example). It doesn't mean indigenous American, or spear-chucker, or "savage" (though these things can be inferred from the use of the term). It simply means, someone from outside our polite society.

Howard was a Texan and a bit of a misfit to boot, giving him real issues with regard to "polite society." This he communicated through his stories, both in the attitudes of his heroes and the circumstances in which they generally found themselves (strife and turmoil in the land caused by the decadent machinations of people in power). It's not surprising that a man who felt himself an outsider would write about outsider heroes, nor is it surprising that his characters would resonate with those seeking escapism from "real life" in the fantasy fiction of pulp stories. Anti-authority is a fine attitude to have, until and unless you need your streets paved, your police and firefighters to arrive in a timely fashion, or your post office and DOT office to be well-staffed and helpful.

But D&D is fun for the same reason: escapist fantasy (how often do PCs need a post office?). And PCs are fairly "outside normal society" by their acts and profession anyway, so it's fine and fair to indulge in a little fantasy barbarism of the Howardian staple...the hard dude (or dudette) that sneers at polite society, that solves problems in Gordian fashion, that has an aura of primal leadership (or animal magnetism). A type of character that has an edge, in other words...something gained by dint of their upbringing and uncivilized attitude. Here's how I'd implement it, mechanically, for B/X (or similar "basic" games):

1. To be from a barbarian tribe, you must be a human character, though you can be a cleric, fighter, or thief (magic-users, even those from barbaric backgrounds, have too broad a perspective to carry the disdain of barbarians...their arrogance is of the magician to the mundane and their "edge" is their spell-casting powers beyond that of mortal men). Your character must have a CON of 9+ to reflect the fantasy trope (in a sense, you are playing a new type of demihuman race).

2. Your "barbarian" begins with the following restrictions: you receive one-half the normal starting gold at first level (roll 3D6x10 as normal, but divide the amount by two). Your character speaks your own language (as "Human Dialect," see page B13) fluently, but can speak only broken, accented common (the "civilized" tongue). You begin with no other languages known, regardless of INT.

3. When dealing with civilized individuals of authority (gate guards, tax collectors, nobles, etc.) your character receives a -2 penalty to reaction rolls unless the person in question speaks your character's native language.

4. If your character has an INT of 13+ you may choose to learn a new language (up to your maximum additional languages known) every time you earn a new level of experience. Learning a language implies fluency and capacity for writing as well. Common may be chosen as a language. Being able to speak fluently in a person's language removes the reaction penalty above.

5. Your character gains the following bonuses as his/her "barbaric edge:" +1 to melee attack rolls, +3 hit points, +1 save versus mind control magic, +1 bonus to hear noise, +1 bonus to detect traps, +1 bonus to retainers' morale score.

6. Success and soft-living will gradually remove your character's edge; every time you go up in level, remove one of your edge bonuses (your choice of which is lost). By the time most barbarians reach 7th level, they are thoroughly "civilized."

7. A player may stave off the eroding effects of civilization by disdaining its decadent trappings. This includes taking following actions:
  • Never sleeping indoors unless the weather is bad (and even then, preferring a hard, bare floor to a cushy bed and soft pillows).
  • Eschewing wealth; discarding 90% of all monetary treasure (giving it away, blowing it in taverns/brothels, etc.), and never retaining more than can be carried on one's person and/or horse. Equipment purchased must be of the most practical type: no fancy clothes, decorative armor, etc. Most fantasy barbarians (either sex) never bother wearing pants.
  • Maintain a healthy respect and distance for enchantments; never possessing more magic items than the character has hit dice (so maximum of nine at levels 9+).
  • Display nothing but contempt for the decadence of civilized folks: sneer at their pointless politics, their indulgent foods, their polite manners. Character should be forthright and blunt in interactions and avoid slyness and dishonesty. 
  • Your character's word is his/her bond. Never break an oath.
This issue provides a good model
in the erosion of "barbaric virtue."
So long as the character abides by these restrictions, her barbaric edge is only lost every two levels gained (so at 3rd level, 5th level, 7th, etc.). No spartan lifestyle can completely halt the erosion of one's edge!

[if a character "falls off the barbarian wagon," she may jump back on upon reaching a new level of experience...i.e. after losing one edge at the standard rate...by reconsidering her decadent life and "getting back to her roots" (vowing to follow all strictures). However, only one such attempt at "atonement" is allowed...if the character succumbs to the temptations of civilized life a second time, there's no third chance!]

All right...we now return to our self-imposed silence. Shhhh...
: )