Green Devil Face

As an avowed enjoyer of the face of the Great Green Devil, I had to pick up this magnet a vendor was offering for sale at Gamehole Con. It now graces my refrigerator, alongside a couple of other RPG-related magnets. I wish I could recall the name of the vendor, because he was selling a lot of really great little souvenirs and tchotchkes like this one.

In any case, I'm still playing catch-up after my travels and, since I'm heading off to CleriCon this weekend – yes, another convention, but a local one this time – I've still got a lot of non-bloggy work on my plate. With luck, regular service will resume next week. Thanks for your patience.

The Dark Between the Stars

As I alluded to yesterday, this week marks the start of a new campaign for the (formerly) House of Worms group – today, in fact! After a decade and half a year of exploring Tékumel together, we're finally ready for something new and the game chosen by my players was Fading Suns, originally published by Holistic Design in 1996. That might seem like an odd choice, given my own inclinations, but it's not really. Indeed, I think it makes a great deal of sense, though it's probably worth delving into this a little bit.

Firstly, I should reiterate that Fading Suns was suggested by my players, not myself. I actually put forward Secrets of sha-Arthan, which I first started working on four years ago and whose recent development I've been chronicling each Friday at Grognardia Games Direct. I thought starting up a SosA campaign would be a great way to put its rules through their paces and expand on its evolving setting. However, several of the players rightly pointed out that Secrets of sha-Arthan is, by my own admission, a riff on many aspects of Tékumel. Since we'd already spent more than a decade in that kind of setting, there's a danger that we'd just be doing more of the same.

I couldn't disagree with that logic, which is why I also offered to run Dream-Quest, the Lovecraftian fantasy game I'm creating. Like Secrets of sha-Arthan, it really needs to be playtested and an ongoing campaign would be a great way to do that. This, too, was rejected on the grounds that my players didn't want to do another fantasy game, preferring instead something science fictional – or at least adjacent to that genre. You might wonder why we didn't opt for my own Thousand Suns, which I'd have gladly refereed, but the simple truth is that, by the time the conversation turned to SF, a couple of the players independently indicated that they'd always wanted to try Fading Suns, a suggestion that was soon embraced by everyone else (except one player, who decided to take the opportunity to bow out).

I had no problems with this. Fading Suns is a game for which I have a lot of affection. In the early 2000s, during the heaviest period of my freelance writing days, I contributed to three different supplements for the game, so I'm quite familiar with its setting. I also worked on the current edition of the game, writing the parts of the initial releases pertaining to the Universal Church of the Celestial Sun, along with the supplement devoted specifically to the Urth Orthodox sect. Since I haven't actually played the game since the late '90s/early 2000s, I had no problem returning to it for our new campaign. In fact, I was pleased the players were interested in it.

The campaign frame is that one of the characters is a young nobleman of House Li Halan who's something of an embarrassment to his family. Inexperienced and more than a little disrespectful of the traditions of his exalted lineage, he's been politely exiled under the guise of being sent on a Grand Tour of the Empire to "gain some seasoning" when, in reality, it's to ensure he's someone else's problem. Of course, even as troublesome as he is, the Li Halan don't want to see one of their own come to a bad end, which is why he's been sent out on his Grand Tour with a small entourage – the other player characters – including an Urth Orthodox priest-confessor who is genuinely concerned for the nobleman's soul.

Though there is a new edition of Fading Suns available, I'm honestly not all that keen on its rules. Consequently, we've opted to use the 1999 second edition of the game. It's not quite to my liking either, being an uncomfortable marriage between a White Wolf-style dice pool system and Pendragon's roll-under-but-still-roll-high mechanic. It's clunky and inelegant but still works after a fashion. Plus, I have an entire library of books written to support this edition, so it makes sense to use it. I'm sure that, in play, we'll eventually house rule anything that doesn't work to our satisfaction. That's the way every campaign I've ever played in works and I see no reason why this one should be any different.

Naturally, I have no idea where this campaign will go or indeed if it will go. It's been my experience that the early stages of any campaign are particularly fraught and it's quite easy for it to die before it has a chance to establish itself properly. While I don't think that will happen in this case, there is never any guarantees. It's quite possible I'll be writing again in a few months about yet another campaign that I'm starting, because Fading Suns didn't take root. For now, I have high hopes that my fears will be unfounded. I'll keep you posted as things unfold, giving you periodic updates on our progress, as I've done with my own current campaigns.

Reviews Reviewed

Reviews Reviewed by James Maliszewski

More Thoughts on Reviews

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Embodied

I'm still catching up on everything I left behind while attending Gamehole Con XII last week, which is why I've fallen a bit behind on my usual posting schedule here, as well as on Patreon and Substack. I apologize for that, but such is life. I figure I'll settle back into my usual rhythm by the coming weekend, if not sooner. I, unfortunately, have a lot to do this week that doesn't involve my online life – like preparing for the first session of the new campaign I'm starting with the former House of Worms players. I'll talk more about that particular topic soon, but, for now, I wanted to continue with some thoughts occasioned by my time in Madison, Wisconsin.

I was very blessed to have shared a hotel room with one of the players of my Barrett's Raiders campaign. Though we’ve known each other for years, our friendship had only existed in the digital realm until last year’s Gamehole Con, when we finally met in person. Even after all these years of online gaming, there’s something quietly profound about that first handshake and the realization that someone you’ve shared countless imaginary worlds with actually exists in the same one as you. Perhaps it’s my age showing, but I still place great value on the tangible and largely unmediated experiences.

Online friendships are real. I have many that I treasure deeply, but there’s a particular joy in crossing that invisible line between the virtual and the physical. Sharing a meal, talking late into the night, comparing notes on games and life are all things that remind me why conventions like Gamehole Con matter. They’re not just about dice and character sheets; they’re about connection, which grounds this strange hobby of ours in real human company.

In the course of our many conversations at the con, my friend said something that struck me as both insightful and absolutely true. He remarked that one of the great things about our hobby is that, unlike most others, it’s entirely possible (and even likely) that, if you attend a convention, you’ll meet the very people who helped create something you love. And he’s right. Throughout the convention, I regularly chatted with Marc Miller, the creator of Traveller, swapping thoughts and stories as if we were old friends. If you’re a fan of a particular actor or director, the odds of ever spending time with them, let alone engaging in a long, thoughtful conversation, are practically nil. In this hobby, though, that kind of connection isn’t rare or guarded by velvet ropes. All it really takes is showing up with curiosity and a love of the game.

What makes this even more remarkable is that so many of the hobby’s “celebrities” (for lack of a better word) are, themselves, fans. I can’t tell you how many times, while sitting down to talk with someone well-known in the hobby, he told me how much he enjoyed Grognardia and how glad he was that I’d returned to blogging. A few times, I was even introduced to others as “the guy who writes Grognardia” and the look of recognition that followed was both humbling and gratifying. I was particularly tickled to discover that Ed Greenwood had bought all thirteen issues of my Tékumel ’zine, The Excellent Travelling Volume, because he’s a fan of the setting. I’ve met Ed several times before, but even so, that revelation surprised me.

My point here isn’t to brag (much) but to emphasize something I think is special about our hobby. There’s no vast gulf separating creators from players. In most cases, they’re the same people, sitting across the same tables, rolling the same dice, and dreaming the same dreams. That shared enthusiasm, that sense that we’re all participants in something communal and ongoing, is what gives tabletop gaming its continued vitality, even after half a century.

It’s easy to forget, especially when so much of our engagement now takes place online, that this is a living, breathing culture made up of people who still gather, talk, and play together. Conventions like Gamehole Con are a reminder of that. They're little oases where the virtual becomes tangible and the hobby renews itself through conversation and camaraderie. Each year I attend, I come home not only inspired to create more but also profoundly grateful to be part of something that remains, at its heart, so wonderfully human.

Starports!

Starports! by James Maliszewski

Thoughts Occasioned by My Recent Travels

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Thoughts on Gamehole Con 2025 (Prologue)

As I did last year, I'd like to begin my reflections on Gamehole Con by doing a quick overview of the people I met and the games that I played. Compared to 2024, this year's con felt a fair bit busier for me personally, as I was constantly running into people and then discovering, much to my surprise, that hours had passed while talking and now I had to hurry to a game or some other meeting. This is a good problem to have, but I sometimes worried that I spent far less time with some people than I'd have liked (or that they deserved). 

• Justin Alexander of The Alexandrian and its associated Youtube channel.
• Daniel of the YoDanno podcast.
• Charles E. Gannon: Science fiction author and old Traveller old. I hadn't seen him since Origins 1991(!) in Baltimore, so it was a very pleasant surprise to spend time with him again.
• Joseph Goodman: Head honcho at Goodman Games.
• Kenneth Hite: A true Renaissance man who's contributed to more games than I can remember.
• Jason Hobbs: Host of the Hobbs & Friends and Random Screed podcasts. He's one of the people I wish I'd been able to hang out with more.
• Sean Kelley: Co-host of the Gaming and BS podcast.
• Mike Mearls: Formerly of WotC and Chaosium, now with Asmodee.
• Marc Miller: Creator of Traveller and one of my favorite people, gracious and knowledgeable as ever.
• Travis Miller: Blogger at The Grumpy Wizard.
• Ben Milton: Host of the Questing Beast channel and The Glatisant newsletter.
• Jon Peterson: Author of Playing at the World and probably the premier historian of hobby.
• Victor Raymond: A dear friend, as well as my co-host on the Hall of Blue Illumination podcast (sadly now on extended hiatus).
• Tyler Stratton of Limithron, publisher of Pirate Borg. 
• Dave Thaumavore: Host of a Youtube channel.
• Ronin Wong: Actor and referee extraordinaire. He was the Keeper of a very fun modern day Call of Cthulhu adventure I played.
• Dustin Wright: Chaosium's intrepid customer service guy.
• And so many others whose names I have forgotten to my shame.

You’ll no doubt notice a fair number of bloggers and YouTubers in the list above, which isn’t surprising, since I’m part of that world myself. Still, it’s always a genuine joy to meet people I’ve known for years online in the flesh. There’s something profoundly, well, human about it, and I can’t help but feel we all need to do this more often. Spending time with someone unmediated by technology reminds us of the warmth and immediacy that no screen can replicate, especially as our lives grow ever more entangled with the digital. That’s exactly why attending Gamehole Con has become so meaningful to me: it’s a chance to reconnect, not just with friends and colleagues, but with the shared humanity at the heart of this hobby. 

I'll go into greater depth about the people, the games, and other activities of the con in upcoming posts.

There and Back Again

I am now safely back in my northern lair after spending the last five days at Gamehole Con in lovely Madison, Wisconsin. I have a lot to say about it and other topics, but that will have to wait until after I have dug myself out from under all the emails, comments, and other correspondence that has piled up in my absence. In the meantime, enjoy another amusing Tolkien-related comic:

https://reparrishcomics.com/post/186528205633/facebook-twitter-instagram-redbubble-buy

Off to Gamehole Con

I leave today for Madison, Wisconsin to attend Gamehole Con 12, which formally starts tomorrow. However, being the anxious person I am, I like to arrive a day early to ensure that any delays won't adversely affect my attendance. Like last year, I'm signed up to play in several games, including a session of Traveller with Marc Miller himself, but my main reason for going to the con is the chance to meet up with friends whom I might otherwise only "see" online. That's by far my favorite part of the convention and why I look forward to returning each year.

While I still remain an avowed Luddite, I will be bringing a camera with me this year, so I hope to have more photos to share of the con than I did last year. I will still be largely out of contact while I'm in Madison, so there will be no significant posts from me here or on my Patreon or Substack until after I return. Likewise, comment approval will be suspended. With luck, I'll avoid coming down with the dreaded Con Crud as a result of my travels, but I wasn't so lucky last year. 

Regardless, I'm off!

The Mutable Dreamer?

Here's another public post from my Patreon about the development of Dream-Quest. As always, I invite comments on the post, since I'm still turning over ideas in my head and appreciate other perspectives. In this particular case, I'm pondering a fairly big change to the mechanics and presentation of the game as I've imagined it so far, which is why feedback is important.

The Articles of Dragon: "Plane Facts on Gladsheim"

Judging by the fact that this is the third post in a row about Dragon issue #90 (October 1984), I think it’s safe to say it was a good one. The funny thing is, before rereading it for these posts, I don’t think I’d have singled it out as anything special. I have a pretty good visual memory, especially for the covers of books and magazines I read as a kid or teenager, and recalling a cover usually brings the contents rushing back. I certainly remembered the cover of issue #90, but, until I revisited it, I doubt I could have told you much about what was inside, let alone why it might be worth talking about all these years later. Go figure!

In the case of the other two articles from this issue I've already discussed, that makes some sense. However, in the case of Roger E. Moore's "Plane Facts on Gladsheim," I'm a bit surprised. I was always a huge fan of Moore's articles, many of which are among the best ever to appear in the pages of Dragon. Likewise, I was fascinated by AD&D's planar cosmology from the moment I first saw it in Appendix IV of the Players Handbook. I wanted to know more about all these strange otherworlds that Gary Gygax mentioned there. Consequently, Moore's article on the Astral Plane was like catnip to me. Even now, I'd easily list it as one of my Top 10 Favorite Articles – probably even Top 5. 

That's why I'm surprised I didn't remember that issue #90 included Moore's attempt to do for Gladsheim what he had done earlier for the Astral Plane. Rereading it, though, I begin to remember why. But before I get to that, I'd like to talk briefly about the article itself. At over a dozen pages in length, there can be no question that Moore has been thorough in describing the realm of the Norse gods and other "chaotic good neutrals," to use Gygax's gloriously baroque terminology. He presents the overall "geography" of the plane, with its various realms associated with gods, giants, and other beings, as well as how they relate to one another. It's useful stuff but, if you're already well versed in Norse mythology, none of it is new information.

What is new are his notes on how various AD&D spells and magic items operate on Gladsheim. Indeed, the bulk of the article is taken up by these notes, as Moore describes a wide range of changes, tweaks, and restrictions in how these things work here. On the one hand, this is very much to be expected. Starting with Queen of the Demonweb Pits, AD&D largely took a game mechanical approach to describing the planes. The planes were places where the rules of the game worked differently than they did on the Prime Material Plane of your home campaign setting. That is what set them apart (along with some new random encounter charts). Now, there's nothing inherently wrong with that approach and I think, in the case of both Lolth's layer of the Abyss and the Astral Plane, it works reasonably well. In the case of Gladsheim, though, I don't think it does – or at least, it's not enough to do so.

For me, the problem – then and now – is that Gladsheim is boring. As described, it's a realm that's not too dissimilar to most vanilla fantasy worlds. That's not Gladsheim's fault really; it's more a consequence of the fact that Norse mythology is so rich with cool monsters and magic and gods and so forth that fantasy writers, including the writers of Dungeons & Dragons, have been looting them for decades. Unlike, say, the bizarre void of the Astral Plane or the malevolent chaos of the Abyss, Gladsheim is just like northern Europe – which is what a lot of fantasy settings are already like. What really sets it apart?

Moreover, as a realm populated by lots of gods who are worshiped on the Prime Material Plane, the scope of what characters can do in Gladsheim is necessarily limited. Cause too much mayhem and they'll draw the attention of Odin or Thor and that's not likely to end well for them. I get the sense that Moore might have recognized this on some level, because he also wrote an accompanying adventure, "Aesirhamar," that's set on Gladsheim as an example of the kinds of things he expected characters could do here. I appreciate that, even if I'm not convinced his answer is an especially good one. However, I'll save my comments about the adventure till next week, because I think it's worthy of a separate post. For now, I'll simply say that I can now see why Planescape opted for such a strange and idiosyncratic approach to the planes. Like it or hate, at least it's different.