"A Relaxation of the Rule"

There was an editor's note inserted into "Thrills and Chills: Ice Age Adventures" that I thought worthy of its own separate post. The article's author, Arthur Collins, describes the rules tweaks he recommends for each of the standard AD&D races in order to better reflect the Pleistocene Epoch. When he gets to elves, he says the following:

Elves would be +1 with spear and sling (instead of bow and sword, neither having been invented). While all races would have discovered ritual fermented or narcotic potations, to the elves would belong the specialty of making wine from wild grapes. Also, only wood elves would be around in Ice Age times.

Take special note of that last sentence: "Also, only wood elves would be around in Ice Age times." Appearing in italics immediately after it is the editor's note I mentioned above. It reads:

Since the Players Handbook says all player character elves are considered to be high elves, abiding by this stipulation would make it impossible for player-character elves to exist in this environment. If the issue must be resolved, DMs will have to either ignore the author’s recommendation or choose to allow a relaxation of the rule.

What a bizarre editor's note. Dragon was regularly filled with rules options and variants that ran counter to what was written in the Players Handbook and elsewhere and I can't recall seeing a note like this. Why here in particular? More to the point, it's a relatively minor detail in an article that is explicitly intended to alter the standard rules of AD&D to accommodate an unusual time period. I'm genuinely baffled that anyone would care that, yes, technically, by the book, wood elves are not allowed for use as player characters in 1982 (a rule that would be overturned in Unearthed Arcana just a few years later). 

There's a reason TSR and AD&D were viewed negatively in a lot of gaming circles back then. 

The Articles of Dragon: "Thrills and Chills: Ice Age Adventures"

 

Quite often, the articles from Dragon magazine that I most remember are not those I ever made use of in my own games, but those that I didn't. There are probably many reasons why this is the case, but a big one is that, even in my youth, when I led a life relatively free of responsibility, I still had limited time. There were only so many games I could play at any given time and, inevitably, there'd be lots of ideas I'd have loved to make use of but didn't simply because I lacked the time to do so. To be fair, that's still a problem for me, even today. Consequently, these articles occupy by the same space as "the one that got away" does in the minds of fishermen – a might have been that continues to play on the imagination even years later.

That's certainly how I feel about "Thrills and Chills: Ice Age Adventures," which appeared in issue #68 (December 1982). Written by Arthur Collins, whom I consider one of the great unsung contributors to Dragon during the early to mid-1980s, this lengthy article offers ideas and rules modifications for playing AD&D during the Pleistocene era. Collins explains that he was inspired by Jean M. Auel's The Clan of the Cave Bear, but, for me, the touchstone for Ice Age tales will always be Manly Wade Wellman's Hok the Mighty, which I first encountered in old copies of Fantastic my local library kept alongside issues of other SF and fantasy magazines.

For years, I'm not certain I could have explained exactly why I found the idea of Ice Age adventuring so compelling. Rereading the article in preparation for writing this post, though, I now think I understand it. For lack of a better word, the Ice Age is post-apocalyptic setting – not in the sense as it's usually meant, of course, but it's nevertheless a setting in which humanity (and other intelligent races) must struggle to survive in a very hostile world. Perhaps because I've never really lacked for anything in my life, I have a powerful fascination for settings in which characters have to worry about where their next meal is coming from or how they'll shelter themselves against merciless Mother Nature.

Collins spends a lot of time discussing the challenges of living during the Pleistocene, particularly when it comes to food. For example, he offers calculations on just how much game and grains a small tribe of Ice Age would need to gather during the course of a single year to stave off malnutrition. He even goes so far as to translate the meat into hit dice in order to quantify it in a way that makes sense within the context of AD&D. I have no idea how well his calculations would hold up to rigorous scrutiny, but they serve a very useful, practical purpose for referees and players alike, which is honestly what I want in an article like this. 

Collins also includes information on braving the weather of this period of history, though he doesn't go into quite as much detail as did David Axler in his "Weather in the World of Greyhawk." He devotes far more space to imagining what the standard AD&D races and monsters would be like in the Pleistocene world, which makes sense, I think. The key to articles like this is in providing enough new and variant rules to make the setting/time period feel distinct but not so many that employing them in play seems daunting. I feel Collins struck the right balance overall, though I do wish he'd take the opportunity to write a bit more about just what Ice Age adventures and campaigns might be like rather than just how they differ from more conventional AD&D play.

I'll conclude by saying that another aspect of this article that likely appealed to me as a young man was that it dared to stray even a little from the default faux medieval setting of Dungeons & Dragons (and indeed of fantasy more generally). While I was and remain a fan of using the Middle Ages as inspiration, I do find myself wishing gamers would occasionally try something else occasionally, whether based on a real world historical period or something completely imaginary. Fantasy need not be so cramped in its vision.

"Roleplaying Games Aren't About Roleplaying"

Some of you are no doubt familiar with Ben Milton's Questing Beast YouTube channel, which is largely devoted to reviewing recent old school(ish) RPG products. Every now and then, though, Ben also posts videos in which he muses about an aspect of roleplaying games that interests him. His newest video belongs to this latter category and somewhat provocatively proposes that "roleplaying games aren't about roleplaying." Here's the video for those of you who haven't seen it. The video's not long and is well worth your time.

For the most part, I agree with Ben's position, in large part because I've observed what he's talking about in various campaigns I've refereed and played in over several decades. Broadly speaking, it's been my experience that there are two approaches to playing a character in an RPG campaign. 

1. The first approach is closest to what I suspect most of us instinctively imagine when we think of "roleplaying" – a kind of acting, in which the player speaks as his character and identifies with him by saying things like "I attack the orc" or "I check the wall for secret doors."
2. The second approach is much more distant, in which the player treats his characters almost as a token or playing piece, as in a boardgame. "My character attacks the orc" or "My character checks the wall for secret doors." 
3. There's also is a middle ground between these two, with the player vacillating between each extreme, depending on the circumstances.

What I find interesting is that, when I'm acting as the referee, I tend to switch between the two approaches as well. For example, in my House of Worms campaign, there are non-player characters I consider important and whom I fully roleplay, speaking in-character and giving them unique mannerisms. Less important NPCs, like Sákbe road guards or shopkeepers, don't warrant this sort of treatment and they're closer to the "token" approach. I switch back and forth between these two approaches freely, often within the same session, and it's never really been a problem. The players understand and accept what I'm doing without any difficulty.

That said, there are occasions when an NPC takes on a life of his own, almost completely against my will. I'll create this character, intending for him to be unimportant or insignificant, and then – somehow – he becomes more than that, right down to having his own unique voice. As a general rule, even when I've got a strong idea of what a non-player character is like, I don't do funny voices. I'm not an actor and, truth be told, I feel self-conscious about engaging in that kind of play. Despite this, sometimes an NPC will simply start speaking through me, funny voice and all. It's not common, but it happens often enough that I thought it worth mentioning.

 All of this is to say that, as a pastime and entertainment, roleplaying is pretty strange. There's no single right way to approach it. Moreover, it's quite possible, probably even, that not all of the people involved in an RPG campaign might be playing it the same way. Indeed, some people might even change how they play it from session to session or even within the same session, shifting between the two approaches I outlined above. For a game, that's downright unusual, since, as Ben points out in his video, most games require that the participants are engaging with it in the same or very similar ways. RPGs are not like that and I think that's fascinating.

(I suspect I'll have more to say about this topic, but I think this is a good starting point to begin the discussion.)

Retrospective: Al-Qadim: Arabian Adventures

I'm a sucker for historical fantasy – or even just fantasy that's heavily inspired by a particular historical period, society, or culture. That's one of the reasons I so eagerly awaited the release of Oriental Adventures in 1985: I saw it as an opportunity for Dungeons & Dragons (or AD&D) to finally present monks and ninjas and samurai within a more suitable context than the riotous goulash in which the game has existed since its inception. In my experience, most (A)D&D players never cared about this as much as I did, even back in the day, but such concerns grew increasingly important to me, especially during my teen years.

Consequently, when TSR announced that it'd be giving the Oriental Adventures treatment to the myths, legends, and folklore of the Middle East, I was pretty excited. Though Bulfinch's Mythology didn't include a section on these tales, I was nevertheless quite familiar with the stories of A Thousand and One Nights, not to mention the charming films featuring Sinbad the Sailor I'd seen as a child. And course D&D had long included monsters like the djinn, efreet, ghoul, and roc, in addition to the flying carpet and ring of wishes, all of which have their origin in Middle Eastern mythology.

Entitled Al-Qadim: Arabian Adventures, this 158-page softcover was written by Jeff Grubb with the assistance of Andria Hayday. Grubb was a powerhouse designer at TSR at this time, having previously created Marvel Super Heroes, shepherded the Forgotten Realms Campaign Set to publication, and conceived Spelljammer, among many other influential projects. He brings the same imagination and enthusiasm for Al-Qadim that he did for its predecessors, resulting in a book of which I remain very fond, despite certain shortcomings. 

In the book's introduction, Grubb acknowledges that Arabian Adventures takes inspirations from three different versions of Arabia. The first is the Arabia of history, whose people, culture, and history spread from the Atlantic Ocean to India as a result of the Islamic conquests starting in the 7th century. The second is the Arabia of myth and legend. Finally, there is the Arabia of Hollywood, like the aforementioned Sinbad movies. Of the three, the second and third are the most important to Al-Qadim, which is not intended to be historically or culturally accurate but is, echoing the foreword to OD&D, "strictly fantasy."

Like Oriental Adventures before it, Arabian Adventures is not a stand-alone game but rather a supplement to AD&D, then in its second edition. Its purpose is to provide new and alternative rules for use with 2e rather than being complete in itself. Thus, for example, we get a variety of new character kits, as well as new equipment, nonweapon proficiencies, and spells. All of these are intended to differentiate the inhabitants of Zakhara, the Land of Fate, from those coming from more Western European-inspired locales, just as OA had done for the peoples of Kara-Tur. Al-Qadim is decidedly not generic in its presentation, but instead places everything within a very specific cultural and social context derived from the three sources Grubb mentioned in his introduction.

By and large, the end result is excellent, better in some ways than Oriental Adventures in my opinion. The character kits – a concept that didn't exist at the time OA was published – do a very good job of tailoring AD&D's existing character classes for an Arabian-inspired setting. While most of them are interesting and flavorful, the ones I most liked were those that covered roles uncommon or unknown in other settings, like the barber, beggar-thief, and merchant-rogue. Likewise, the new spells and proficiencies went a long way toward making a Zakharan character feel distinct from his counterparts in other realms.

Where Al-Qadim falls down is its being branded with and tied to the Forgotten Realms campaign setting. This is not the fault of Grubb or Hayday, nor does it strongly weaken the quality of their work. In the early 1990s, TSR was very keen on tying all of its AD&D products to one or more of its existing settings. Since the Realms were TSR's "go-to" AD&D setting, the company plugged almost everything into it, including Zakhara (just as had previously been done with Kara-Tur). It's a pity, because I think Zakhara would have been much more interesting had it simply been its own thing, divorced from the rest of TSR's AD&D settings of the time.

One way that this impacts Arabian Adventures in a negative way is that we don't get any unique demihuman or nonhuman playable races. All the standard AD&D races, like dwarves, elves, and halflings, are present in Zakhara and, aside from the usual game mechanics associated with them (ability bonuses, special abilities, etc.), they're really little different from Zakharan humans, sharing the same customs, beliefs, and so on. There's nothing strictly wrong with this approach, but Oriental Adventures gave us several new nonhuman races to play and I think doing so went a long way toward making Kara-Tur feel distinct. I would have liked to have seen the same for Al-Qadim.

The other "flaw" in Al-Qadim is that it's pretty clearly meant to be an alternate Players Handbook. Unlike Oriental Adventures, there's not much in the way of referee material included in this book. There are no new monsters or magic items, for example, and while both those omissions would eventually be dealt with in follow-up products – several, in fact! – their lack in this book was something I felt pretty keenly at the time. I would have preferred something a bit more expansive in its content, but, as I said at the beginning of this post, Arabian Adventures isn't a stand-alone product and, given TSR's approach to publishing AD&D at the time, there was probably little to no chance it would have included such material when it could more profitably be sold in later releases.

All that said, I really like Al-Qadim and regret that, like so many other AD&D products with which TSR flooded the market in the '90s, I never got the chance to make much use of it. One of my friends was a big fan of the line and purchased a lot of the later material, including the Land of Fate boxed set. From what I could tell, all of the setting's support material was of a very high quality – imaginative and fun, with plenty of great ideas to aid the Dungeon Master in refereeing his very own version of A Thousand and One Nights. It's one Second Edition's better supplements and deserves more love than it generally gets.

REPOST: The Articles of Dragon: "Weather in the World of Greyhawk"

Issue #68 (December 1982) of Dragon was the first issue I ever received as part of my subscription to the magazine, though I'd read it nigh-religiously for some time beforehand. Due to an error on the TSR periodicals department, I received two copies of every issue for the next twelve months, one addressed to me at my actual address in Baltimore, Maryland and the other addressed to me in Baltimore, Mississippi, though the zip codes were the same for each (which is why they both arrived in my mailbox). Having two copies was quite useful to me, since it gave me the freedom to chop up and otherwise disassemble one copy while keeping the other pristine for my collection.

In any event, issue #68 included an article by a writer called David Axler entitled "Weather in the World of Greyhawk." Though presented as an unofficial supplement to The World of Greyhawk, the article was eventually canonized by being included in the 1983 boxed set version of the setting. Axler's article was a well-done early example of what would become a staple of Silver Age Dragon articles: a system for introducing "realism" into one's campaign. In this case, it was weather that got the "realistic" treatment, with tables for determining temperature, precipitation, and cloudiness, in addition to discussions of lunar phases, high winds, and "special weather phenomena," such as wind storms and tsunamis.

In truth, Axler's rules are pretty simple to use and presented intelligibly so that even my 13 year-old self could use them with relative ease. And use them I did. Back in 1982, I was all about adding doses of "realism" into my AD&D campaign where I could and, since this article had done all the hard work for me, why wouldn't I use it? Eventually, though, I stopped doing so, because, easy though it might have been to use, I rarely found that knowing just how much rain had fallen or the effects of high humidity added much to my adventures. The extra "realism" serve no purpose other than satisfying my adolescent sense that a good DM should know these sorts of things about his campaign setting. I abandoned that way of thinking a long time ago and I don't think my campaigns have suffered for it.

Naked Sword

I saw this advertisement in issue #89 of Dragon (September 1984):

Since I can find no evidence of its existence, I assume that it never came out. Is that correct? Does anyone by chance know anything about this? From the scant information here, I can only assume that it was a warrior-centric counterpart to Thieves' Guild, but it's hard to say for sure.

Traveller Starter Pack

In the coming weeks, I plan to write a lot more about Traveller, both because it's a roleplaying game I know, love, and play – and because it's a roleplaying game that doesn't get enough attention in my opinion. To that end, I'd like to direct your attention to the Traveller Starter Pack, available for free through the Mongoose Publishing website. 

The Pack consists of PDF versions of the 72-page Traveller's Explorer Edition and two complete adventures, Stranded and Death Station. The Explorer's Edition is a pared down version of the Traveller Core Rulebook, providing everything you need to play the two adventures. The adventures themselves are updated versions of two Classic Traveller scenarios, Marooned/Marooned Alone and (of course) Death Station, the latter of which is among my favorite Traveller adventures of all time. 

The idea behind the Starter Pack is to give people interested in Traveller an opportunity to read and make use of the current edition of the rules without the need to spend any money. It's a great idea in my opinion, which is why I'm sharing this information here. I'd love to see Traveller more widely played, so anything that helps in that endeavor is good in my book. If you're curious about Traveller, the Starter Pack is a terrific, no-cost way to investigate it further.

Dramatis Personae

A commenter to my recent post about the coming end of my House of Worms Empire of the Petal Throne campaign asked to know a little bit about each of the characters depicted in this illustration by Zhu Bajiee.

I thought that was a pretty good idea for a post, but I thought I'd expand upon the question a bit and talk about most of the player characters who've appeared in the campaign since it began in March 2015. Doing so isn't just a fitting commemoration of these characters but also reveals something of their range of personalities, a range that's played a huge role in ensuring the campaign for all these years.

I'm going to start with the six characters depicted in the illustration above, since they're the originals who kicked off the campaign. The figure on the bottom left, wearing skull face paint is Znayáshu hiNokór (played by Barry Blatt). Znayáshu is a lay priest (magic-user) of Durritlámish with a keen interest in astrology. He originally made his living creating horoscopes before he became involved in the schemes of his clan-mates. His fiancée, Tu'ásha hiNarkóda, of the Mourning Rock clan of Thráya, died before the two could wed – but that didn't stop Znayáshu, who had her corpse carefully preserved and later reanimated as a Shédra, a form of intelligent undead (who then became a secondary player character). 

Next to Znayáshu is Ssúri hiNokór (played by Ron Edwards). A ritual priestess of Durritlámish with a keen knowledge of dance and acrobatics, Ssúri makes use of these talents in contexts outside her temple, such as when facing off against enemies in battle. Sharp-tongued and no-nonsense, she regularly acted as the public face of the characters, often with boldness equal to her actions in combat. 

Standing in the middle, attired in the robes of a priest of Sárku is Keléno hiNokór (played by Doyle Tavener). Keléno prefers to keep his nose in books when he is able (which, sadly, isn't as often as he'd like). He developed an interest in demonology, after successfully – and unintentionally – summoning dread Srükárum to fight against an army of Ssú in the Dry Bay of Ssu'úm. Keléno has married three times in the course of the campaign, firstly to Hmásu hiTéshku, a priestess of Belkhánu, with whom he shares many interests. Here's a depiction of their wedding, also by Zhu Bajiee.

Standing above Keléno is Aíthfo hiZnáyu (played by Stephen Wendell). He's an adventurer who's the lone member of the original group not to worship Sárku or Durritlámish, instead being devoted to Ksárul. Aíthfo is the groups tactician, commanding an ever-changing group of mercenaries and men-at-arms with great skill. He's also a sea captain who hopes to travel the length and breadth of Tékumel in search of “cash and prizes." During the time when the characters were in Linyaró, Aíthfo acted as its imperial governor, though he much preferred exploring the uncharted Achgé Peninsula to overseeing the colony.

The large bald fellow wielding a sword and spear is Grujúng hiZnáyu (played by Dyson Logos). He's an older, ex-legionnaire (formerly of the 6th Imperial Medium Infantry) who found life in Sokátis dull and so travels around with his clan-mates in search of excitement (and good fishing spots). His dream of one day commanding a legion of his own was fulfilled (somewhat) during the characters' time in Linyaró, when he was placed in charge of the colony's military. Mostly, though, he protects the others from anyone who'd do them harm.

Finally, on the far right is Jangáiva hiTlélsu (played by Jason Ermer). A temple guard of Sárku, Jangáiva gained the patronage of an officer of the Omnipotent Azure Legion, who is testing her for possible formal induction into that august force. During her travels outside of Yán Kór, she obtained a demonic hammer that calls itself “Little Sister” and revels in destruction. Jangáiva does her best to keep the weapon under control.

Of these six characters, two – Ssúri and Jangáiva – dropped out of the campaign within the first year or so. Znayáshu also left earlier this year, leaving only Aíthfo, Grujúng, and Keléno of the originals. However, shortly before the departures of Ssúri and Jangáiva, another character joined: Huné hiNokór (played by Scott Kellogg). Here's an illustration of him by Zhu Bajiee.

Huné is a sickly, scheming priest of Hrü'ü, with a penchant for indulging in dangerous psychedelics. He is not a member of the House of Worms clan, but rather than much more prestigious Dark Flame clan. He joined the other characters in part due to a belief in a common ancestry, as evidence by his lineage name (hiNokór). In addition to his other pursuits, Huné had a keen interest in the Hirilákte Arena and liked to acquire unique gladiators – "freaks," in his words – to sponsor in the fights there. Huné eventually departed the campaign.

Joining not long after Huné was Nebússa hiTéshku (played by Kevin Brennan). A clan-cousin of Keléno's first wife, Hmásu, Nebússa is a member of the Omnipotent Azure Legion and a worshipper of Ksárul. A master of politics and intrigue, he's had a strong effect on the campaign, ever since his first appearance. He eventually married the Lady Srüna hiVázhu, an aristocratic scion of the Iron Helm clan of Mekú. Here's another illustration of the happy couple by Zhu Bajiee.

In time, Keléno acquired an apprentice by the name of Kirktá hiNokór (played by Alex Klesen), a young scholar priest of Durritlámish, who had formerly been a priest of Belkhánu, as well as a member of another clan (Red Sword). While it is not unknown for someone to change his temple affiliation, it's quite unusual for a priest. Changing clans is more unusual still, yet Kirktá did both. In time, the reasons for this strange state of affairs became known – Kirktá is a hidden heir to the Petal Throne – and this secret has proven an important element of the last couple of years of the campaign and, perhaps, its ending as well.

Znayáshu, too, acquired a colleague in the form of Chiyé hiNokór, a magician devoted to Sárku. Chiyé is a schemer and a social climber, hoping to acquire not just knowledge but also political power. For a time, he worked to create a marital alliance between himself and the Livyáni colony of Nuróab, but that unfortunately came to nought. Now, he's more interested in discovering the secret of repairing and manufacturing eyes, the devices of the Great Ancients that enable the user to employ all manner of incredible powers.

The most recent addition to the campaign is Qurén hiQolyélmu (played by Brett Slocum). Qurén is a scholar of antiquities and among the very few humans with a knowledge of the nonhuman Mihálli language. Nominally in the employ of Prince Rereshqála, a revealed heir to the Petal Throne, he joined the House of Worms characters on their planned expedition to some Mihálli ruins to the northeast, with the purpose of acting as a translator. However, events did not go quite as planned and he now finds himself with a front row seat for the upcoming Kólumejàlim, in which his new companions may play a significant role.

All of the foregoing characters played in the House of Worms campaign for at least a year. There are three others who played for less and I've not included them here, since their lasting impact is smaller. Presently, there are seven active characters: Aíthfo, Chiyé, Grujúng, Keléno, Kirktá, Nebússa, and Qúren. It's worth noting that, with the exception of Aíthfo, whose situation is unusual, there have been no player character deaths. To some degree that's because the characters avoid combat whenever possible, but it's also just a matter of luck. For a time, I refereed a second Empire of the Petal Throne campaign in parallel with this one and all but one of its starting characters died (and many more besides). Apparently, Lord Sárku smiles upon them, knowing that, in the end, he will claim them all anyway. Why not grant them a few more days upon Tékumel until then?

Endings

Some of you may recall that, back in August, I opined about the coming end of my House of Worms Empire of the Petal Throne campaign. Three months later, the reality of that ending is becoming more apparent. I won't say that it's imminent, but it's very much on the horizon. If I had to guess, I suspect things will likely wrap up sometime early in 2025. Sadly, I don't think it'll continue far enough into the new year in order to reach the campaign's tenth anniversary (on March 6. 2025), but them's the breaks. While we human beings seem to like nice, round numbers, real life doesn't always cooperate.

The campaign began with six player characters, depicted in this illustration drawn by Zhu Bajiee.

Within the first year or so of play, two of the original six departed (for scheduling reasons), but were quickly replaced by two others, one of whom still plays and has become one of the campaign's stalwarts. In the years since, many other players have come and gone. By my count, there have been fourteen players involved in the House of Worms campaign, not counting "special guests" who sat in for a session or two here and there. Of those, seven still play, including three of the original six.

The campaign never had an overarching "story." Instead, it was always pretty open-ended, with the characters wandering across Tékumel according to their own wishes and those of the patrons they've served. Initially, the characters were all minor members of the House of Worms clan, doing the bidding of their elders while they tried to make names for themselves and to acquire, in the words of Aíthfo hiZnáyu, "cash and prizes." This set-up made it very easy to referee, since the players drove most of the action, it also afforded them the opportunity to travel the length and breadth of Tékumel (and beyond) in pursuit of their goals.

That open-endedness does, however, make it harder to tie things up in a pretty bow and say, "Done!" That's a thought that's occupied my thoughts for a while now: how does one "properly" end a campaign? Most RPG campaigns, I suspect, just stop rather than conclude in any satisfying way. That's honestly fine. For House of Worms, though, I felt some obligation to do something more, something that felt like it did justice to the nearly a decade's worth of roleplaying my players and I have engaged in. But how to do that?

Though the campaign doesn't have a "story" in the literary sense, there is a thread that's been running through it since fairly early on: the characters' quest for status and influence within the Empire of Tsolyánu. To that end, the characters have frequently worked for, opposed, or stumbled into the intrigues of the various heirs to the Petal Throne. In addition, one of their number, Kirktá, has also been revealed to be an heir. This revelation has, until recently, played a fairly minor – but recurring – role in the campaign. Now that it looks like things are starting to wind down, I decided it might be a good time to make full use of Kirktá's status as an imperial scion.

In our most recent session, the characters learned that Hirkáne Tlakotáni, 61st Seal Emperor of Tsolyánu, "the Stone Upon Which the Universe Rests," has fallen gravely ill and is not expected to survive. The various factions within the Imperium, plotting quietly in the shadows in preparation for the inevitable Kólumejàlim, are at last ready to make their moves, each falling behind one of the potential candidates for the Petal Throne. Since Kirktá is one of those potential candidates, the characters will soon find themselves involved in this world-historical event, whether they like it or not.

Thus, the final sessions of the House of Worms campaign will focus on the choosing of a new emperor (or empress). In the wake of Hirkáne's death, all candidates for the throne must present themselves to the Omnipotent Azure Legion in Avanthár and announce whether they wish to partake in the Kólumejàlim or if they will "renounce the Gold" and retire to a safe imperial sinecure. Before that happens, though, there will be much plotting and intrigue, as each candidate rallies his supporters, seeks allies, and tries to dissuade other contenders to renounce their claims. It's into this maelstrom that the characters will fling themselves, the conclusion of which will result in both a new emperor and an end to our campaign.

Not a bad way to end things, don't you think?

REPOST: The Articles of Dragon: "The Astral Plane"

A Dragon article written by Roger E. Moore and with an introduction by E. Gary Gygax, where he states that "[this] is about as 'official' as is possible at this time?" For my 13 year-old self, this was as good as an article could get. Appearing in issue #67 (November 1982), "The Astral Plane" was a massive effort on the part of Moore to provide comprehensive rules for adventuring on the Astral Plane. It included discussions of astral encounters, astral travel, the Psychic Wind, movement, combat, and alterations to spells and magic items. There was also an accompanying adventure called "Fedifensor" (written by Allen Rogers) intended to be used in conjunction with Moore's rules. Taken together, it was very impressive package that solidified my sense that, aside from Gary Gygax, Roger E. Moore was one of a handful of Dragon writers whose stuff I could safely assume would be good.

We didn't do a lot of plane hopping in my old AD&D campaigns. I do recall a few visits to the Nine Hells and the Abyss and I suspect the characters did so by means of the Astral Plane on at least one occasion, but, if so, these trips weren't particularly memorable. Ultimately, that's the main problem with "The Astral Plane" – even with all the clever rules modifications that Moore came up with, the place is still deadly dull. That's not Moore's fault, because he was trying to work within the parameters laid down by AD&D up till that point and those parameters paint a rather uninspiring picture. Sure, the Githyanki hang out on the Astral Plane, but, other than that, what else makes this place cool? Why would anyone want to go there for any length of time? "The Astral Plane" doesn't answer that question and nothing in the AD&D books at the time provided a better answer.

That said, I did like the fact that Moore postulates that other planes will operate according to different laws than those of the Prime Material. That's something I strong advocate and think is essential to the feeling of "We're not in Kansas anymore" other planes should evoke. I also think, as was true in Queen of the Demonweb Pits, that "The Astral Plane" goes overboard in the level of specificity about how character abilities, spells, and magic items operate differently, but that's a criticism of implementation not of concept. So, in retrospect, I still like this article a great deal, even if I wouldn't use it as written in any game I am running now. It's still a great idea mine and a useful foundation for an approach to handling weird otherworlds in your D&D campaign.