REPOST: Forgotten Father

The tastes of one generation are not necessarily those of another and literature is no more exempt from the alienating power of time than any other form of art. Realizing this doesn't make it any less surprising when one encounters an artist wildly popular in his own day but largely unknown in the present. Such an artist was Abraham Merritt, who was born today in 1884. A journalist, editor, and writer, Merritt's short stories and novels were highly regarded before the Second World War. Among his ardent admirers was H.P. Lovecraft, who, in a letter to R.H. Barlow wrote of his having met the man in person:

I was extremely glad to meet Merritt in person, for I have admired his work for 15 years. He has certain defects — caused by catering to a popular audience — but for all that he is the most poignant and distinctive fantaïsiste now contributing to the pulps. As I mentioned some time ago — when you lent me the Mirage installment — he has a peculiar power of working up an atmosphere and investing a region with an aura of unholy dread.

HPL would later, along with Robert E. Howard, collaborate with Merritt on a round-robin story called "The Challenge from Beyond." It's not a particularly noteworthy piece, for any of the writers involved, but it's evidence that, once upon a time, Merritt was at least as highly esteemed as Lovecraft and Howard, two writers whose literary stars have risen since their lifetimes, in contrast to their older colleague.

Today, almost no one, including aficionados of fantasy and science fiction -- genres he helped to develop -- talks much about Merritt. I knew his name, of course, since Gary Gygax included him in Appendix N and often noted that he was one of his favorite fantasy authors. Despite this knowledge, I hadn't read much by Merritt until comparatively recently. Part of it is that his stories are frequently out of print. At least some of them are in the public domain, but, being a stodgy old traditionalist, I like books, meaning that, if I can't find a physical volume of an author's works, I often don't read them. Many older authors, such as H. Rider Haggard, for example, are readily available in inexpensive paperbacks, making them much easier to obtain by those uninterested in trolling used bookstores for obscure novels.

Even so, I don't think that fully explains why Merritt is so poorly known and appreciated in the 21st century. The real answer, I think, lies in his stories, which don't fall into neat, easily marketable categories. Whereas Lovecraft can be crudely called a "horror" writer and Howard a "fantasy" one, Merritt defies such facile classification. More often than not, his stories feature recognizably "pulp" heroes -- men of action and intelligence equally adept at problem-solving and fisticuffs -- but Merritt's style is ornate, even florid, marshaling a veritable army of adjectives, adverbs, and archaisms to describe scenes of remarkable power. Here's just one example from his Creep, Shadow, Creep in which he describes a sorcerer:

I saw that he was clothed in the same white robes. There was a broad belt either of black metal or ancient wood around his middle. There was a similar cincture around his breast. They were inlaid with symbolings of silver ... but who ever saw silver shift and change outline ... melt from this rune into another ... as these did? ... The servants had quenched their torches, for now the corposants had begun to glimmer over the standing stones. The witch lights, the lamps of the dead ... Glimmering, shifting orbs of gray phosphorescence of the grayness of the dead ... Now the buzzing began within the Cairn, rising higher and higher until it became a faint, sustained whispering.

It's not hard to see why Lovecraft was so enamored of Merritt's prose -- or why he accused him of "catering to a popular audience." Merritt's style is neither fish nor fowl, mixing many aspects of pulp literature into a unique elixir that's remarkably intoxicating. As Lovecraft notes above and, as I stated in my review of The Ship of Ishtar, Merritt is a master of atmosphere and setting a scene. He takes the time to describe the environment in which his fantastic tales of lost races and eldritch horrors occur and it's this tendency that truly set his stories apart from those of his contemporaries and successors. Moreso than most pulp writers, Merritt truly transports his readers into another world, using his prose to act as their eyes and ears.

I've still not read the entirety of Merritt's corpus and it may be some time before I do, but it's a project to which I am committed. Merritt's unusual style might not be for everyone. However, his ideas are without peer, which explains his great popularity in the years before World War II. I'm increasingly of the opinion that his stories could find an audience today if they were more readily available. I think he's no less accessible than Lovecraft and, given that his protagonists aren't bookish, mentally fragile antiquarians, they're probably more in line with popular tastes than those of the Old Gent. More than anything, what Merritt needs are some champions who'll do for him what others have done for Lovecraft and Howard: remind the current generation what past generations saw in these great artists.

Emperor of Dreams

On January 13 of this year, I commemorated, as I always do, the birthday of Clark Ashton Smith, whose most famous poem, "The Hashish-Eater" famously begins with the line, "Bow down: I am the emperor of dreams." I've long felt that it was an eminently fitting declaration to appear in a poem by CAS, as his literary work, whether poetry or prose, is indeed oneiric, filled with fantastic beings and vistas and eliciting feelings that are at once strange and familiar. Smith understood the language of dreams well and he used that language to remarkable effect. That's a skill I decidedly lack in my own writing and of which I've always been envious, which probably explains why I hold him in such high esteem.

One week later, January 20, would have been the 79th birthday of another master of the language of dreams, filmmaker David Lynch, who died on the 15th. I know the date of his birth only because of a very peculiar incident that happened to me in 2018. One morning, I woke up after a dream I'd had about meeting David Lynch, who was apparently waiting for me on a street corner. "Where are my suits?" he asked me. "Did you bring them to me?" When I told a friend I'd had this dream, he replied, "You know, today is Lynch's birthday."

Prior to my friend's informing me of this, I'm pretty certain I didn't know this information, so it seemed oddly coincidental that I just happened to dream of Lynch on the morning of his birthday. I'm pretty sure I dreamt about him, because I'd come across a story about him from the year before, when he'd set himself up in a director's chair at the side of the road on Hollywood Boulevard to campaign for Laura Dern to receive an Oscar. Oh – and he had a cow with him, because, of course, he did. In my dream, he didn't have a cow or a director's chair, but he was at a street corner. I feel like the connection is pretty obvious – at least that's what I told myself, since the alternative is to believe that there was some mystical significance to my dreaming of the man on the day of his birth.

I'm pretty sure the first David Lynch movie I ever saw was his 1984 adaptation of Dune, which I've always adored for its esthetics, if not necessarily anything else. Lynch hated every released version of the movie and even replaced his name with that of Alan Smithee on a couple of them. In college, I met some guys who were big film geeks who loved Lynch's work and, through them, saw Blue Velvet, The Elephant Man, and Eraserhead. I found Eraserhead particularly arresting and have never watched it again, but I found the other two well made and compelling. Though I didn't realize it at the time, all of them, to varying degrees, possess dream-like (or nightmarish) qualities that set them apart from the more straightforward movies to which I was accustomed up till that point.

I don't think it was until Twin Peaks appeared on TV in 1990 that I encountered many other people familiar with Lynch's work. The show was, for a brief moment, a "water cooler show," as they used to say – everyone was watching it and talking about, both because it was so lovingly made and because it contained all sorts of elements that made people question exactly what they were actually watching. Because of network interference, Lynch couldn't make good on his vision for the show (and wouldn't until Twin Peaks: The Return in 2017), but he did release a movie prequel in 1992 that is both very good and very scary – and another movie I've never dared watch a second time. Unsurprisingly, Twin Peaks in all its forms gives pride of place to dreams and their importance.

I haven't seen all of Lynch's films, so I'm not sure I'd call myself a true devotee of the man and his works. That said, I found him fascinating. Every interview with him I've ever read or seen is remarkable. Odd though he was, there was a sincerity, an earnestness to him that I couldn't help but find admirable. There was nothing pretentious about him; what you saw was genuine. Everything he said and did was an authentic reflection of who he was and what he believed. It's hard not to like a guy like that, even if, as I said, a lot of what he actually said and did and believed was downright peculiar at times. 

Ultimately, though, the thing I loved about Lynch was that he clearly understood the language of dreams. I use the word "language" purposefully. Lynch's creative efforts, like dreams, are more deliberate than they seem. There's an underlying logic to them that, while not apparent at first, can eventually be deciphered, at least somewhat. To do that, though, you have to be willing to listen. You have to be patient and learn the vocabulary and the grammar and the syntax of the language of dreams. Do that and you might come to understand what he's talking about. 

Or, just like dreams, you might not. Sometimes, you have to be comfortable with not knowing, with mystery. Lynch never elaborated on his own work, no matter how often interviewers tried to get him to do so. He trusted his viewers to do their own work and figure it out for themselves, probably because, in many cases, he might not have fully figured it out himself. Great art, like dreams, sometimes comes without an easy explanation: it just is and that's OK. Not everything has to be easily explicable or reducible to a series of rational propositions. In fact, it's better that way.

For someone like me, who's always lived too much inside his own head, who's much too analytical and deductive, I need to be regularly reminded of this. That's likely why artists like Clark Ashton Smith and David Lynch so appeal to me: I recognize in them remedies to my own deficiencies. Their ready understanding of the language of dreams makes me at once envious and grateful – while the news of Lynch's death just makes me sad. 

Wherever you are, Mr Lynch, Godspeed.

"We are like the dreamer who dreams and then lives the dream."

Your Safety is Our Proft Margin

As I wrote today's Retrospective post, I wanted to reference something from my Riphaeus Sector campaign, thinking I'd already posted about it earlier. However, a quick search through the archives of the blog turned up no evidence that I'd ever done so. And it f I'm mistaken about this, oh well, it certainly wouldn't be the first time!

During the campaign, the characters acted as covert agents for Imperial Naval Intelligence service of the Empire of Nagoya. They masked their activities by also operating as a genuine mercantile company they called Universal Exports. Here's a fun little graphic one of the players produced in reference to their activities. Since I'm a big fan of player-made materials like this, I thought it'd be worth sharing more widely. It's also a great memento of the campaign.

Retrospective: BeltStrike

Traveller was released in 1977 in a digest-sized box, mimicking the format of OD&D, published just three years earlier. During its first few years of existence, Game Designers' Workshop released several other similarly sized boxed sets to support the game, starting with Mayday in 1978. For a lot of people, myself included, Traveller is strongly associated with digest-sized books, so much so that many of the 'zines and licensed third party support released for the game were similarly sized. (Judges Guild's books were the primary exception to this.)

Beginning with The Traveller Book in 1982, GDW began a shift away from digest-sized books and toward more traditional 8½" × 11" books for the game. I'm not entirely sure why the company chose to do this, but, whatever the reason, there were soon no more digest-sized books to be had. The Traveller Adventure, the various alien modules, and even the Starter and Deluxe editions of the game were all published as standard-sized books – a size every subsequent version of Traveller has used up to the present day.

Around the same time, GDW released new versions of Mayday and Snapshot that made use of the larger size. These were the versions I owned, though I've long since lost and replaced them with the earlier digest-sized versions, because I'm silly that way. These games paved the way for additional boxed sets for use with Traveller, like Tarsus, which appeared in 1983. Then, in 1984, BeltStrike appeared in the same format – two 12-page, staple-bound booklets, four 4-page adventure folders, a fold-out map of Koenig's Rock, and some perforated cards containing the write-ups for a dozen pregenerated characters. Like most Traveller products, there's not much in the way of art beyond David Dietrick's box art.

Like Tarsus before it, BeltStrike devotes itself to the description of a single star system in the Spinward Marches, in this case the Bowman Belt, a planetoid belt located in the same subsector as Tarsus, District 268. As its name suggests, District 268 has not yet been fully incorporated into the Third Imperium, but is instead a colonial territory being developed in preparation for eventual inclusion within the empire. This gives its worlds, including the Bowman Belt, a distinctly "frontier" feel to them – which is saying something, as the Spinward Marches sector itself is something of a backwater sector located on the fringes of the Imperium. 

The first 12-page booklet is the Bowman System Reference Book. It lays out the basic facts of the Bowman system, as well as its major points of interest. There's also a map of both the entire system and of Bowman Prime (a gas giant) and its satellites, so referees and players alike have a good idea of where all the major astronomical bodies are located in relation to one another. Information about Bowman's history and place within the Marches takes up much of the booklet's page count, followed closely by library data and a key to Koenig's Rock, a planetoid settlement with a reputation for lawlessness and vice.

The second 12-page booklet is the Belter's Handbook. As its title suggests, it focuses on creating and playing belter (asteroid miner) characters. There's not only a full career for such characters (which had previously appeared in Supplement 4: Citizens of the Imperium), but also many practical details on asteroid mining, like the ins and outs of prospecting, claims and profits, encounters, and the effects of zero and low gravity. None of these details are exhaustive – the booklet is short, after all – but they're solid enough to provide the referee with sufficient guidance that he could pretty easily make use of them in his campaign. 

Finally, there are the four adventure folders – really just two double-sided pages – each of which presents a different situation that might involve the player characters within the Bowman system. The first one, "Lodes of Adventures," is really just an introduction to the system and its sights. The second, "On the Rock," takes place on Koenig's Rock and its shady inhabitants. Adventure three, "Claimjumpers," deals with fending off rival belters. Finally, there's "Archeology," which allows the characters to find a high-tech base of an alien civilization that's been lost in the belt for centuries. Like everything else in BeltStrike, the adventures are more sketches than fully fleshed out scenarios. While this is fairly typical for Traveller, this might prove frustrating for inexperienced referees.

In my youth, I wasn't a big fan of BeltStrike for precisely this reason. I felt there was too little information to fully exploit its potential. After all, asteroid belts are inherently interesting locales in a sci-fi setting and I simply didn't think the Bowman Belt was interesting as I had hoped it would be. Now, I look on it a little more charitably. I made good use of it during my Riphaeus Sector campaign by repurposing bits and pieces of it in my own non-Third Imperium setting. Both Koenig's Rock and the ancient alien base made great additions to the continuing adventures of the characters as they made their way across the sector. It's far from the best thing GDW ever released for Traveller, but I'm still fond of it (and it inspired me when I took my own stab at presenting an asteroid system for gaming).

Correspondence from the Free States of America

Issued February 29, 2000

To the American People:

Our nation is in ruins. The United States of America, as it once existed, is no more. The ideals of liberty, and self-governance that defined our republic have been betrayed by those who claimed to serve them. In the wake of nuclear fire and chaos, a dying aristocracy clings to the ashes of its power, desperately trying to impose its will upon a people it has long since abandoned.

We will not accept this.

The Joint Chiefs of Staff—unelected, unaccountable, and unwilling to cede the power they have stolen—proclaim themselves rulers in the name of "order." But their order is nothing more than tyranny, enforced by guns and tanks. They speak of stability, yet what they truly seek is dominion, a dictatorship cloaked in the rhetoric of necessity.

The so-called Congress in Omaha is no better. It is a sham, an illegitimate gathering of pretenders who operate without representation, without quorum, and without the consent of the governed. They would have you believe that they are the rightful inheritors of the American government. But their claim to authority is built on a lie. Their president is a man who crawled out of the shadows after two years of silence. Do not be fooled by their pretense of legitimacy. They are no more representatives of the American people than the generals they claim to oppose.

To the people of this land: reject them both. Reject the generals who seek to rule by force. Reject the politicians who seek to rule by deceit. These factions are not saviors—they are relics of the old order, a corrupt and crumbling hierarchy that brought us to this catastrophe. They are parasites, feeding off a system that no longer serves the people.

The Free States of America offer a new path. We are not a government in the traditional sense. We are not a central authority seeking to impose our will upon others. We are a movement, an alliance of free communities bound together by shared principles: that power derives from the consent of the governed, that government exists to serve the people, and that every individual has the right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.

We are farmers and laborers, soldiers and scholars, men and women who refuse to be pawns in someone else's game. We do not seek power or conquest. We seek only to reclaim the ideals upon which this nation was founded. The Free States are not defined by borders but by principles. Where those principles live, so too do the Free States of America.

The Declaration of Independence is clear: when a government becomes destructive to the rights of its people, it is the right of the people to alter or abolish it. This is not rebellion—it is the fulfillment of the sacred contract upon which this nation was built. We did not seek this fight, but we will not shy away from it. The Joint Chiefs and the Omaha Congress have forfeited any claim to legitimacy. Their time is over. The future belongs to those who stand for liberty.

To the people of America: if you are tired of the lies and betrayals, join us. If you believe that government exists to serve, not rule, join us. If you are ready to cast off the chains of the old order and build something new, join us. Together, we can reclaim the promise of America—a promise not of power for the few, but freedom for all.

And to the world: let it be known that the Free States of America are not rebels or anarchists. We are the true heirs of the American spirit, rising from the ruins to forge a future worthy of our ideals. We will not be dictated to by generals or manipulated by politicians. We will stand our ground, defend our communities, and fight for our freedom.

This is our moment. The old order is dying, and from its ashes, we will build something better. We are the Free States of America. We are the voice of the people. And we will not be silenced.

Signed,
Elizabeth Crane
Principal Correspondent of the Free States of America

Statement from the Joint Chiefs of Staff

Issued from Cheyenne Mountain, Colorado, April 23, 1999

To the Steadfast People of the United States:

Citizens,

The United States of America is in grave peril. Since the Soviet Union’s unprovoked nuclear attacks in late 1997, our nation has faced challenges of a magnitude unprecedented in its history. In the face of such devastation, the Constitution provides a framework for continuity. Yet the brutal realities of nuclear war have left our constitutional mechanisms shattered. With no functioning executive, no legitimate Congress, and no clear line of succession, we find ourselves at a crossroads.

The recent proclamation from Omaha, recognizing John Broward as President, is deeply troubling. While Mr. Broward served ably as Secretary of Energy under President Tanner, the process by which he has been declared President is fraught with constitutional and procedural violations. The Congress assembled in Omaha lacks the quorum required by Article I, Section 5 of the Constitution to conduct legislative business. Furthermore, many of its members were neither elected by their constituents nor represent their prewar districts. This body, as constituted, cannot claim the legitimacy to appoint a President or legislate on behalf of the American people.

The Joint Chiefs of Staff recognize the dangers of military governance. We are soldiers, not politicians, and we have no desire to wield power beyond what is necessary to preserve the republic. However, in the absence of lawful civilian authority, we have a duty to ensure the survival of this nation. Our actions are grounded in the principle that the United States must endure—not as a collection of fragmented factions, but as one nation, united under the principles of freedom and justice.

Until such time as a legitimate, constitutional government can be restored:

1. The Armed Forces of the United States will maintain order. We will protect the American people from external threats, internal chaos, and unconstitutional overreach by illegitimate factions.
2. We will facilitate the eventual restoration of civilian governance. This includes aiding in the re-establishment of state governments and assisting in free and fair elections where feasible.
3. We will uphold the rights and freedoms of the American people. This is not a military dictatorship, but a temporary custodianship. The Constitution remains our guide.

We urge all Americans to remain vigilant and united. To the Congress assembled in Omaha, we offer a clear message: Disband until you can meet the requirements of legitimacy under the Constitution. To John Broward, we say: Step down. Your presidency, while perhaps well-intentioned, is unlawful and undermines the principles you claim to uphold.

The history of this nation is filled with moments when the American people rose above fear and division to confront adversity. We are confident that, with patience and resolve, we can navigate this crisis and emerge stronger. Let us honor the sacrifices of those who came before us by ensuring that the United States remains a beacon of liberty and justice.

For the United States of America,

General Jonathan Cummings, Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff
Admiral Samuel E. Dawson, Vice Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff
General Marcus L. Ortiz, Chief of Staff of the Army
General Robert T. Hawkins, Commandant of the Marine Corps
General W. Charles Oblinger, Chief of Staff of the Air Force
Admiral William F. Harlan, Chief of Naval Operations

Proclamation from President John Broward and the Congress of the United States

Issued from Omaha, Nebraska, April 21, 1999

To the People of the United States:

Fellow Americans,

In these darkest days, we must look to the Constitution as our guide and guardian. Through war, division, and crisis, it has provided the framework for our survival as a nation. Today, I stand before you as President of the United States, confirmed by the reconstituted Congress, to reaffirm our commitment to that Constitution, the rule of law, and the principles of liberty and democracy that unite us.

The nuclear attacks of 1997 decimated our government. The deaths of President Tanner, Vice President Pemberton, Speaker Munson, and so many others left a void in leadership unprecedented in our history. Despite these losses, the Constitution remains intact. It provides the path forward, even under extraordinary circumstances.

When Congress was finally able to convene, irregular though the process may have been, its duty was clear: to restore civilian governance and ensure the continuity of the republic. With the line of succession in disarray, I, as the last surviving cabinet member confirmed by the Senate under President Tanner, was called to assume the presidency. This action, taken in consultation with the reconstituted Congress, honors both the letter and spirit of the Constitution.

To those who question the legitimacy of this Congress and my presidency, I say this: extraordinary times demand extraordinary measures. The surviving members of Congress are not perfect in their composition or representation, but they are guided by the same principles that guided the Framers in 1787. The Constitution does not demand perfection; it demands perseverance. Every effort has been made to respect its provisions, even under conditions that the Founders could scarcely have imagined.

I urge all Americans to stand with us as we rebuild. The principles of representative democracy and civilian authority must prevail, as they have in every crisis we have faced—from the Revolutionary War to the Civil War to the challenges of the last century. Our government derives its power from the consent of the governed, not the authority of arms. This is the foundation of our republic and the promise we must keep for future generations.

To General Cummings and the Joint Chiefs of Staff, I commend your service and sacrifice. You have kept this nation together under unimaginable conditions. But the time has come to restore the proper balance of governance. The military exists to defend our nation, not to govern it. I call upon you to honor the Constitution and stand down, allowing the civilian government to resume its rightful role.

To the American people, I pledge this: we will continue to rebuild, guided by the Constitution, and we will restore what has been lost. We ask for your patience, your resilience, and your faith in the enduring principles of liberty, justice, and democracy. Together, we will weather this storm, as we have weathered so many before.

May God bless the United States of America and guide us in this endeavor.

Signed,
President John Broward
The Congress of the United States

The Art of the Cavalier

The first appearance of the cavalier character class in issue #72 of Dragon (April 1983) is something I remember very acutely, in large part because I loved the idea of a knightly AD&D character class. For that reason, I can also remember the three illustrations, all by Keith Parkinson, that accompanied it. Here's the first one, which has a blue background for some reason. Perhaps Dragon was experimenting with color interiors at the time?  

Though I've never been the biggest fan of Parkinson's art, I do like this piece, especially the weird combination of a barbute helmet with the brush like that worn by a Roman legate or military tribune. I also appreciate that the horse looks sturdy enough to carry a man in that kit.

Here's the second illustration, featuring what appears to be the same cavalier, possibly fighting kobolds. I say "appears," because the cavalier in this piece holds his sword in his right hand, whereas the one above holds it in his left. At first, I thought that maybe one or the other images had been reversed by accident – this happens a lot in publications – but Parkinson's signature looks correct in both of them, so I'm not sure what's going on. Maybe the cavalier is ambidextrous?

Finally, we get this depiction of a female elven cavalier astride a unicorn. One of the cavalier's abilities is horsemanship. As he levels, the cavalier gains greater skill with his mount, as well as a wider range of possible beasts he can ride. In the case of female elves, unicorns become a mount option for them starting at 4th level, which is cool, I suppose. On the other hand, I'm an obnoxious purist about unicorns. To my mind, they're not just white horse with horns but hybrid creatures with aspects of horses, deer, goats, and lions, so I'm not especially keen about this particular unicorn, but whatever. I still remember this piece more than four decades later, so I guess that's what counts.
 

The Articles of Dragon: "The Chivalrous Cavalier"

From the moment Gary Gygax first announced that his upcoming revision to Advanced Dungeons & Dragons would include, among other additions, a collection of new character classes, my younger self was waiting with eager anticipation for any news about what these classes might be or what abilities they might possess. By the time issue #72 of Dragon (April 1983) had come out, Gygax had already presented previews of two of these new classes, the barbarian and the thief-acrobat, neither of which thrilled me. I didn't hate either of them, but I didn't see much scope for their use in my ongoing AD&D campaign at the time – and neither did my players, who largely ignored them a brief flurry of interest.

This issue offered readers a third proposed class: the cavalier. Described as a "sub-class of fighter ... in service to some deity, noble, order, or special cause," the cavalier was basically a knight, drawing on both historical orders of knighthood and those from legend and literature. Much like the paladin, with whom it shares many similarities (more on that soon), the cavalier has hefty ability score requirements for entrance (STR, DEX, and CON 15+, INT and WIS 10+), as well as belonging to the right social class. A cavalier must initially be good in alignment, whether lawful, chaotic, or neutral, though he may shift away from goodness before 4th level without penalty, which I always thought was an odd detail.

Unlike the paladin, which is a human-only class, the cavalier admits humans, elves, and half-elves, all of whom have the potential for unlimited advancement. The class is focused on mounted combat, which, while appropriate based on its inspirations, would seem to limit its utility in dungeon-focused adventures. No matter: cavalier get numerous other useful abilities, such as combat parries, improved saves against fear, impressive starting equipment (a consequence of their high station), weapon specialization, and, perhaps most remarkable of all, ability improvement. Every time a cavalier gains a level, he rolls 2d10 and adds the result as a note after his Strength, Dexterity, and Constitution scores. When the total from these rolls reaches 100 for any ability, it increases by 1 point. 

Needless to say, the cavalier was quite a popular class among my friends and I at the time issue #72 appeared. I'd long been seeking an "official" AD&D knight class, so the cavalier scratched a longstanding itch of mine. That the class Gygax presented was also incredibly potent, possessing multiple powerful abilities, was just icing on the cake. Compared to the fighter, of which it was a sub-class, the cavalier was just better in almost every way, especially, if as was usually the case, one were not too strict about the rolling of ability scores for new characters. Consequently, I saw a lot of cavalier characters for a while, both in my own games and in those of friends. I can't say I really blamed anyone for this, in light of the class's power. Plus, it had the imprimatur of Gary Gygax, so who could argue against its inclusion?

Over time, quite a lot of us fell out of love with the cavalier. The truth was that, as presented here – and, later, in Unearthed Arcana – the class was simply out of whack with those in the Players Handbook. Perhaps, I thought, once Gygax completed his full revision of AD&D, it might be more in line with the overall power level of the game, but, until then, it was simply too much. This was doubly true of cavalier-paladins, which combined the abilities of both classes – what was Gygax thinking? Yes, it's true that there were various social restrictions placed on cavaliers through their code of honor that might, in principle, keep them in line, but, as kids, that was rarely sufficient to rein them in. I soon forbade cavaliers from my games and hardly anyone complained about it.

Looking back on this article now, it's pretty clear that, by 1983, Gygax's conception of AD&D was in the process of shifting considerably from his original vision. On some level, I can't really blame him. By this time, he'd been playing some version of D&D for over a decade, so it was probably inevitable that he'd want to do something different than he'd done before. Everything he was writing around this time suggests that he was becoming increasingly interested in a more high-powered kind of fantasy, one whose characters were personally powerful and whose adventures involved high stakes and equally powerful foes. Again, I cannot blame him for this. Having refereed my House of Worms campaign for a similar length of time, I know only too well the temptations of going Big, sometimes to the detriment of the game itself.

That's more or less how I look at the cavalier and most of the Gygax-penned material that first appeared in Dragon and later in Unearthed Arcana: experiments gone wrong. Many of them seemed like better ideas than they turned out to be. "Even Homer nods," as the saying goes, and so it was with Gygax and the cavalier.

Traveller and I

Since I'll be devoting more posts to classic Traveller over the next little while, I thought it might be useful to talk a bit about my own history with the game, if only to help readers understand where I'm coming from. Very little of what follows is probably new – I'm pretty sure I've touched on this before – but I'm not certain I've ever collected it all in one place. Even if I have, a refresher for the benefit of those who don't want to trawl through the 4000+ posts in the blog's archive is probably valuable.

Since I was a small child, I've always been more of a science fiction than a fantasy guy. Some of that no doubt is a consequence of my growing up in the 1970s, when the Apollo Program still loomed large and the promise of manned spaceflight and the eventual colonization of the solar system were not yet dreams too big to imagine being fulfilled in my lifetime. And, of course, there was Star Trek, whose Original Series was during this time well on its way to becoming a worldwide pop cultural phenomenon, thanks to the success of its syndication. Under the tutelage of my aunt, who was a teenager when Star Trek first aired in the late '60s, I became a huge fan of Captain Kirk, Mr Spock, Dr McCoy, and the crew of the starship Enterprise and, because of that, a huge fan of sci-fi in general.

During the '70s, I watched every science fiction movie or TV show I could, no matter how bad – and many of them were very bad indeed. I also read as much SF literature as I could, aided by the spinner racks at my local public library, some of which featured the works of authors like Isaac Asimov, Arthur C. Clarke, Robert Heinlein, Poul Anderson, among many more. In combination, these fed my sense of what science fiction was and could be, so much so that, even today, nearly a half-century later, they continue to shape my imagination on an almost instinctual level. I suppose it's little wonder, then, my conception of sci-fi is general somewhat "old fashioned," born out of works created in the '50s, '60s, and '70s rather than more contemporary visions of the future.

I first encountered Dungeons & Dragons in late 1979, a discovery that would change my life forever. From that point on, roleplaying, in one form or another, would become my primary pastime and creative outlet. Initially, my focus was, naturally, on fantasy roleplaying games, but it didn't take long before I'd learn of the existence of Gamma World, a post-apocalyptic RPG that included a fair number of science fictional trappings, like laser weapons and robots. Unsurprisingly, I was a very enthusiastic Gamma World fan, which whetted my appetite for the possibility of a "real" sci-fi RPG, something that I wouldn't have the chance to play for a few more years yet. In the meantime, I'd have to content myself with brief forays into the genre, like Expedition to the Barrier Peaks. 

Unlike my discovery of D&D, which I can recall vividly, my discovery of Traveller is a bit hazier. I tend to associate it with 1982's The Traveller Book, because that's the first Traveller product I ever owned. However, I'm almost certain I started playing the game before I owned a copy of the rules, probably with a childhood friend's older brother, from whom I learned a lot in the first few years after I started roleplaying. Likewise, I had already been playing Traveller for some time before the release of FASA's Star Trek RPG, which also came out in '82. So, if I had to guess, I probably began playing Traveller in 1981 or very early 1982, but, as I said, my memories are hazy and I can't swear that.

Regardless, Traveller quickly rose in my affections, easily displacing D&D, even if I still played it far less than Dungeons & Dragons. That's more a function of the interests of my friends than of any lack of devotion on my part. They, like most roleplayers I've known over the decades, preferred fantasy to science fiction, so, if I wanted to game, that meant playing a fantasy RPG rather than a sci-fi one. That was fine – I didn't (and don't) dislike fantasy – though, if given the chance, I'll always choose science fiction. Whenever I could, I ran Traveller or Star Frontiers or Star Trek instead of D&D, though those opportunities weren't as great as I would have liked.

Even so, I was quite thoroughly devoted to Traveller, dutifully picking up as many supplements and adventures for it as I could find. I read them all voraciously and committed the details of the evolving Third Imperium to my memory to the point where I now consider it my favorite fictional setting, beating out even Tékumel, in which I've been refereeing a campaign for just shy of a decade now. When I went away to college, I had slightly better luck with enticing people to play Traveller, which made me happy, as did my discovery of Traveller's fan scene through The Travellers' Digest and, later, the History of the Imperium Working Group (HIWG), a fan organization dedicated to fleshing out aspects of MegaTraveller's Rebellion. 

My encounter with Traveller's fan scene was truly transformative for me. Because of it, I attended Origins for the first (and so far only) time, meeting Marc Miller and some of the folks at Digest Group Publications. I also connected with many Traveller fans across the world, some of whom are now among my oldest and dearest friends. Further, my work in HIWG paved the way for my involvement with Traveller in a professional capacity, penning articles in Challenge that would eventually bring me to the attention of GDW, who asked me to write one of the introductory adventures for Traveller: The New Era (and later GURPS: Traveller).

Despite – or perhaps because of – my intense affection for Traveller as both a player/referee and as a writer, I've fallen in and out of love with it several times over the years, but I always come back to it. I regularly joke that, while D&D is my first love, Traveller is my true love. The reason for this is twofold. First, Traveller was my first "real" science fiction RPG. Second, Traveller's inspirations closely matched many of my own; the game seemed almost perfectly tailored to a kid who'd read the books I had. Taken together, Traveller has imprinted itself on me in ways I can probably never fully shake, nor would I want to, if I'm being honest.

That said, I have tried. I wrote Thousand Suns as an homage to everything I loved about Traveller, while trying to improve upon it where I could. I'll leave it to others to judge whether I succeeded, but I still consider Thousand Suns one of the few things I've created about which my feelings are largely unconflicted. My only real regret is that, as Grognardia grew, I devoted less energy to developing Thousand Suns than I had originally planned. I may have to change that, if time permits, because it's a good game that I think still has unrealized potential. If only I weren't so easily distracted ...

And there you have it: my history with Traveller, albeit in abbreviated form. I hope this will provide some additional context to my upcoming posts about the game and its history. I feel that it's an overlooked and underappreciated roleplaying game, one deserving of much greater attention and appreciation than it typically receives. I hope, as I write more about it, more readers will agree.

When Greatness By Right Is Thrust Upon You ...

Whenever TSR released a new campaign setting for AD&D during the Second Edition era, Dragon magazine would include a special section advertising it. Issue #219 (July 1995) included one for Birthright, which featured the following pages:

Cambion

January 13, 1893 – August 14, 1961

I am that spawn of witch and demon

By time's mad prophets long foretold:

The unnamed fear of king and freeman,

I roam the lawless outland wold,

Couching amid the weeds and mould

With dire Alecto for my leman.

I am that hidden piper, playing

The Pan-like strains of malefice

That lure the lonely traveller, straying

Upon the crumbling precipice:

To filmed morass or blind abyss

His feet must follow, never staying.

I am that swart, unseen pursuer

Whose lust begets a changeling breed:

All women know me for their wooer:

Mine is the whisper the maidens heed

At twilight; mine the spells that lead

The matron to the nighted moor.

I am that messenger whose call

Convenes dark mage and banished lord

And branded witch and whip-flayed thrall,

To plot, amid the madness poured

On the black Sabbat's frothing horde,

The bale of realms, the planet's fall.

Retrospective: Birthright Campaign Setting

By now, it's pretty widely recognized that Dungeons & Dragons and, by extension, all roleplaying games ultimately descend from miniatures wargaming. After all, the subtitle of OD&D is "Rules for Fantastic Medieval Wargames Campaigns Playable with Paper and Pencil and Miniatures Figures." Yet, fairly quickly, this descent had become obscured, if not outright forgotten. The first version of D&D I owned, Holmes Basic, was first published in 1977, just three years after the release of OD&D and, by that point the game's subtitle had already been changed to "Rules for Fantastic Medieval Role Playing Adventure Game campaigns" (italics mine). The explicit connection to miniatures wargaming had been severed.

However, many implicit connections remained, most importantly in the way that most character classes, as they advanced in level, gained followers – sometimes a lot of them. High-level characters can also establish strongholds and rules over a territory, collecting taxes from the inhabitants. These and similar aspects of the game reveal, I think, that D&D never completely broke free of the bonds of miniatures wargaming, where free-wheeling campaigns driven by the machinations of players were common. D&D is very much an outgrowth of that style of play, even if most of the new generation of gamers, like myself, had little or no understanding of this fact. And, to be fair, TSR itself did very little to promote this style of play, aside from half-measures like the D&D Companion Set in 1984. 

TSR tried again a little more than a decade later with the release of the Birthright Campaign Setting in 1995. Created by Rich Baker and Colin McComb, Birthright was another example of the many impressive boxed sets released during the Bronze Age of D&D. The set consisted of three softcover books (a 32-page Atlas of Cerilia, describing the game's history and geography; a 96-page Rulebook that detailed changes to the AD&D 2e rules; and a 96-page Ruins of Empire book that detailed all the kingdoms of the setting), a couple of large poster maps, a battle mat, 112 cards with the stats for various military units, a DM screen, and a collection of reference sheets. It was, as I said, a very impressive package. The box was filled to the top with lots of stuff – a hallmark of the era.

One of the central features of Birthright that distinguished it from other D&D settings at the time was that it focused on rulership, whether of a kingdom (or smaller governmental unit) or an organization, like a guild, merchant company, or temple. Most player characters are assumed to be scions, possessors of ancient divine bloodlines that grant them a variety of supernatural abilities. These bloodlines stretch back to the gods themselves, who sacrificed their very essences in order to save the mortal races of Cerilia from the evil god Azrai. When a character is generated, the strength and type of his bloodline is determined randomly. However, through play, the bloodline can be strengthed or weakened, depending on his success or failures in defeating other scions. 

Bloodlines and their powers play a significant role in Birthright. Scions are, by their nature, no ordinary mortals. Their powers enable them to rise to prominent positions in Cerilian society, such as great military commanders, merchant princes, high priests, and, of course, the rulers of domains. Success in Birthright's domain management system depends, to a great degree, on the ruler's use of his bloodline strength and powers, though luck and good judgment play a role as well. It's an interesting conceit and, in my opinion, a rather clever one for a leveled game like AD&D. Since even 1st-level Birthright characters possess bloodline powers, albeit weak ones, they can jump right into the action by governing small territories or organizations, with the hope that, as they advance in influence and power, they can expand the holdings they govern as well.

Domains are governed according to a three-month "domain turn" during which a ruling scion (or regent) makes decisions about how he wishes to govern. These decisions involve taxation, maintenance, warfare, diplomacy, and more. There are also tables for handling random events that might occur during a turn. Of course, characters can also – and indeed are expected to – engage in adventuring during these turns, too, since defeating other scions and stealing their divine power is an important way to increase their own. Birthright regents don't just sit on their thrones and let others do the dirty work for them! It's probably not "realistic," but it's fun, in much the same way that a Star Trek captain's leaving his bridge to beam down to a hostile planet is. After, Birthright is still D&D.

Speaking of its being "still D&D," the Birthright campaign setting doesn't deviate too much from the defaults of Second Edition. All the expected character classes are there and any changes to them are minor at best. The same is true of the standard demihuman races, though elves have a slightly more sinister, or at least distrusted, character to them. The setting does make a distinction between wizards, who cast both "true magic" and realm magic, and magicians, who are specialists in illusion and enchantment. Only scions can become wizards, since both true and realm magic require the divine power of a bloodline to operate. Other than this, Birthright doesn't differ all that much, rules-wise, from AD&D 2e as it existed in 1995.

Though the setting assumes that most player characters will be scions, it's not mandatory. Characters lacking a bloodline are possible, though I'm honestly not sure why anyone would play one. They lack both the extra abilities that bloodlines provided and the hit point boost (+10) that comes with them. Non-scion characters get a +10% XP bonus on top of any other bonus they might qualify for, but that's the only benefit to not having a bloodline. I suppose another perk is that you're not as likely to be a target for ambitious scions hoping to empower themselves by killing you.

Like a lot of AD&D 2e settings, Birthright was very well supported by TSR, with a large number of supplements and adventures being published for it over a very short period of time. I never owned anything more than the original boxed set, so I can't really comment on how useful these were. I get the impression that, as one might expect, they were a mixed bag – some were excellent and added a lot to the setting, while others were less so. For myself, I felt that Birthright was complex enough as it was and can't imagine wanting to add more complexity. The domain management system, while compelling, required a lot of bookkeeping, for example, and the mass combat rules, though simpler than a full-on miniatures wargame, nevertheless required a lot of attention.

The Birthright campaign setting is one that greatly interested me at the time of its release. Unfortunately, that time also corresponded to when my interest in Dungeons & Dragons was rapidly fading. As I said, I bought the initial boxed set and read it with enjoyment. However, that never translated into making use of it. Instead, it languished on a shelf for years, until I finally sold it to someone who'd better appreciate it. Now, I regret that a tiny bit, since I think I now have a better handle on the kind of "movers and shakers" political campaign that the rules were designed to handle. Were I to referee such a campaign, though, I doubt I'd use AD&D, so it's a moot point anyway. 

If anyone reading this made good use of Birthright to run a campaign, I'd love to hear how it went.

REPOST: The Articles of Dragon: "Who Get the First Swing?"

There's that word again -- "realism." As I've noted before, it (and variations on it) were a commonplace of Dragon articles after 1983 or thereabouts. This instance of it appears as part of the subtitle to the article "Who Gets the First Swing?" which appeared in issue #71 (March 1983). The article, by Ronald Hall, is an attempt to produce a "simple yet realistic" alternative to the convoluted and much misunderstood initiative system presented in the AD&D Dungeon Masters Guide. I think almost anyone who ever attempted to run combat in AD&D by the book would have been sympathetic to Hall's intention.

Initiative in AD&D, particularly when combined with the equally obscure rules regarding surprise, was one of those areas where, in my experience, most players back in the day simply ignored the official rules and adopted a variety of house rules. I know I did. My system was a variation on rolling 1d6 per side with modifiers and a dash of common sense. D&D's combat has always been pretty abstract, so it never made much sense to me to fixate on making one of its aspects more "realistic." Unfortunately, in this period of D&D's history, that opinion wasn't held by all, least of all those who wrote articles for Dragon. "Realism" was all the rage.

Hall introduces an attack priority system that makes good use of weapon speed factors -- another aspect of AD&D many gamers dropped -- in order to model advantage such "faster" weapons have in combat. His system is an individual initiative system rather than a group initiative one, which, right there, means it's going to be much more complex than the commonest house rules used at the time. Add to this that there many, many modifiers to a character's attack priority, such as weapon length, dexterity, size, hit dice, among others, and you have a recipe for a system that, despite its claims does require "more work." The other issue is that, like many such systems, Hall distinguishes between manufactured and natural weapons, which necessitates that there be seven pages of supplementary stats to cover the modifiers for all the creatures in the Monster Manual. What one is to do with the Fiend Folio monsters is never addressed.

Articles like this were no doubt extremely well-intentioned, but, even at my most obsessive, I never felt the desire to use them. I understood the logic that leads to creating an individualized initiative system with lots of modifiers and special cases, but, at the end of the day, the result always seems like more work than is necessary for a combat system as abstract as D&D's. I'll readily grant that AD&D is a mess when it comes to initiative and the other complexities it bolted on to OD&D's "alternative combat system." However, articles like this strike me as cures worse than the disease.

The Wiseman's Gap Subsector

As I've been delving into Traveller, I've also been working on a little bit of whimsy: a Riphaeus sector booklet on the model of GDW's The Spinward Marches and The Solomani Rim supplements. I say whimsy both because I'm not sure how useful this project will be and because I'm making an effort to reproduce, to the best of my limited abilities, the formatting and layout of the originals. For example, here's the draft page accompanying the map to the Wiseman's Gap subsector.

I'm not very skilled at most technical skills, so it's not been easy to copy the GDW house style as I had hoped. I'm still plugging away at it, in between other projects. My hope is get the thing done sometime this month and release it through Mongoose's Classic Travellers' Aid Society third party license. As I said, this is mostly for my own enjoyment (and perhaps the enjoyment of the players in my old Riphaeus sector campaign), but I also find it helpful to complete a simple, straightforward project as a way to jumpstart other, bigger projects (of which I have many).

Speechless (Again)

Once more, J.R.R. Tolkien's birthday is upon us and I am ill prepared to say anything to mark the occasion. Much like Dungeons & Dragons, I'm not certain I have anything left to say that I haven't already said on numerous occasions beforehand – or that others more eloquent than I haven't said better. Therefore, I will simply remind everyone of the date and bid you all to commemorate this auspicious date in whatever way seems appropriate to you. I'll be re-reading some of my favorite sections of The Hobbit, like riddles in the dark or the meeting with Elrond. Those scenes (and many others besides) remind of why Tolkien is still remembered and celebrated to this day.

Happy Birthday, Professor Tolkien!

In Case of Fire, Break Glass

Nearly everyone who's read the AD&D Dungeon Masters Guide remembers Will McLean's delightful comics that poked gentle fun at many of the conventions of fantasy roleplaying. Traveller had a few examples of its own, my favorite being this one which appeared in The Traveller Book by Loren Wiseman and John M. Morrison. 

Modifications to Traveller (Part II)

Wiseman continues: 

The most common change will probably be in the available weapons. Any additions to the weapons should be especially well thought out and rationally based. Science fiction literature contains many more weapons than could be described in the basic rules. Many of these have only the flimsiest of scientific justifications, if they are justified at all. In television and movies, weapons are often created for the visual effect they have and are not usually very well thought.

A couple of points. First, we again see a reference to "science fiction literature" as the first source of inspiration for Traveller, which shouldn't be surprising. Anyone with even a passing knowledge of E.C. Tubb and H. Beam Piper – the two most influential authors on Traveller – can easily see where the game came from. That said, sci-fi TV and movies are mentioned, albeit unflatteringly. Second, it's very clear that Wiseman at least considered Traveller to be an attempt at a "serious" game grounded in real world science. He doesn't see it as a game of swashbuckling space opera. I'm OK with that, though I know plenty of people aren't.

In addition, all ramifications of the weapon must be considered. For example, any major change in lethality of hand-carried weapons is likely to have profound effects on military tactics, at least eventually (the military is sometimes a little slow to catch on).

This is a fair point. For the most part, Traveller's weapons – at least those readily available to player characters – are all on a fairly similar plane in terms of lethality. There are differences, obviously, but, aside from some of the stuff introduced in Mercenary, they're all of a piece. 

A few question to ask might be: is this weapon really required by my universe? What is the principle of its operation? (If the weapon is taken from literature, the principle of operation may be described or well-established.) Is the principle of operation a reasonable one? What are the advantages and disadvantages of this particular weapon, and why would it be used in place of more conventional weapon systems?

All reasonable questions, so I don't have much to add. I will note, however, that a common complaint about Traveller is that it includes too many "archaic" weapons among its firearms, like shotguns and submachine guns. This has never much bothered me, perhaps because of a comment in Book 1 of Traveller that seemingly addresses this point: "the surest way to injure or kill an adversary will be to subject him to a large dose of kinetic energy, and a simple way, easy way to administer that energy is by bullet impact."

Adaptations to the jump and maneuver drive systems and to our concept of jump space should be made only with care and consideration. The effects of modifications to these areas are wide-ranging and touch almost every rule in one form or another. In designing our interstellar drive system, we tried to come up with one which fitted in with the other aspects of our proposed mythos and which was reasonably close to the literature we drew it from. It was assumed, however, that some referees would not be satisfied, whatever system we devised. It was further assumed that any referee who felt strongly enough about the matter would change what displeased him.

This section might be one of the more controversial ones, because I know that many people both dislike Traveller's jump drive and believe that the game is perfectly playable without it. Wiseman acknowledges this above. For myself, I'm a big fan of the way jump drive works, because, when coupled with the lack of any form of FTL communications, it creates a setting that's somewhat akin to the Age of Sail, at least as far as the dissemination of information. That opens up a lot of possibilities for adventures both large and small. 

We do not recommend major revisions of the trade and commerce section without considerable thought. Minor deviations from the trade and speculation table, or reclassification of certain world types are acceptable; indeed, in most cases, some deviation from the letter of these rules is desirable, but the spirit (i.e. the general system) should be preserved.

As to how integral the speculative trade system is to Traveller, I'm not sure. I'll only say that I very much love the system, not because it's a good simulator of interstellar commerce – it's not – but because it provides a terrific campaign framework and a reason for characters to travel from world to world. I'll talk more about this in a future post.

Referees are cautioned against making psionic powers too common. Players will often urge that psionics become more widespread, but this is often only because they want to have every possible advantage without drawbacks. Powerful psionic abilities would soon dominate all aspects of play and most of the excitement of Traveller (the advanced technologies) will lapse into disuse, or at least be relegated to a secondary role. 

I can't really disagree with this section, but I've also never been a huge booster of psionics in Traveller (aside from when I've used the Zhodani), so my opinion is perspective is perhaps skewed.

The cautions which apply to major revisions apply to a lesser extent to expansions of existing rules. Many referees find certain rules do not go into enough detail to suit them. Examine the manner in which Book 4, Mercenary, expands upon the army and marines, or Book 5, High Guard, expands upon the navy for general guidelines on technique. You need not (and probably should not) duplicate the systems in these two books exactly, but they will prove a source of inspiration for your own efforts.

Even as someone with a decidedly mixed opinion about Traveller Books after 3, I agree with Wiseman here. Most of the later books do provide good models for those who wish to add more detail to their adventures and campaigns, even if I've rarely felt the need to do so myself. I prefer a simpler, less baroque version of Traveller, but I understand not everyone feels this way, especially in a game that's much more laser focused on a particular style of play.

Wiseman offers up a lot of food for thought in this section of Book 0. In future posts, I'll be returning to a few of them. Stay tuned.

Looking Ahead

Judging from my past attempts to do so, I am a very poor prognosticator of the future. Therefore, I am going to refrain, on this first day of 2025, from making any predictions about the next twelve months. If the last few years are any guide, the only thing one can safely predict about the coming year is its unpredictability. With luck, that unpredictability will work in our favor from time to time.

I am likewise not a maker of resolutions. My ability to follow through with almost any project I undertake is spotty at best, as anyone who's paid any attention to my creative output over the years can tell you. The only project that I can (almost) guarantee you'll see this year is this blog, which, for better or worse, I've still managed to keep writing, though there are plenty of days when I wonder how long I'll be able to continue to do so. 

That said, there are a few things I feel reasonably safe to state about 2025 and Grognardia's place within it. First, there will be a rise in the number of posts dedicated to Traveller, at least for the foreseeable future. I started down this path toward the end of last month, so that should be no surprise. Traveller remains my favorite roleplaying game, so this shift in focus was perhaps inevitable. However, I cannot promise it'll be a permanent shift, as one can sometimes grow tired of even one's most cherished interests.

Relatedly, I will probably also post a bit more about Thousand Suns, the science fiction RPG I wrote as my love letter to Traveller. It's a game with which I'm very pleased and that I've enjoyed playing over the years. It's also a game I haven't put any further development into in many years, for multiple reasons. Despite this, I am regularly asked about the game and whether or not I have any future plans for it. Those are all fruitful topics for discussion, especially as an adjunct to the increase Traveller posts here.

Second, there will be more posts about Secrets of sha-Arthan, the science fantasy roleplaying game I've been creating, on and off, for the last three and a half years. I've made a lot of progress in that time, but I'm a bit of a perfectionist when it comes to personal projects like this. I've written and rewritten, abandoned and returned to numerous drafts of the game rules multiple times now – so many, in fact, that I often despair of ever settling on one that I like enough to playtest widely. I'm hoping that will change this year. Even if it doesn't, I still plan to share more about the sha-Arthan setting, which I think is pretty cool.

Third, 2025 marks the 50th anniversary of the publication of Empire of the Petal Throne. And while my House of Worms campaign is very likely coming to its end within the next few weeks (just shy of its 10-year anniversary), my interest in Tékumel remains. Plus, I did such a poor job of commemorating the semicentennial year of Dungeons & Dragons last year that I feel an obligation to do better with EPT, a game that deserves to be better known and appreciated. 

Fourth, I will definitely post more about the other campaigns which I'm refereeing or playing. In particular, the Barrett's Raiders Twilight: 2000 campaign deserves greater coverage. That campaign has been going for the last three years and it's now entering a new phase, as the characters are in the midst of evacuating the war-torn Poland of September 2000 and returning home to the USA. I think this new phase will be quite interesting, both to play and to write about, so expect more T2K posts throughout the year. 

Fifth, expect some more interviews with notable figures from the history of the hobby. Interviews used to be one the major features of this blog in its early days. I've not done quite as many of these since I return to it in 2020. I intend to change that this year, if only because I think it's very important that we preserve the thoughts, memories, and experiences of the pioneers of this amazing hobby we all share. Being keenly aware of my own mortality these days, I don't want us to lose any more of our founders before they've had a chance to tell their stories. Interviews are one small way that might be able to happen, hence why Grognardia needs to post more of them this year.

Naturally, I have other hopes and intentions for 2025, but I've probably already tempted Fate by publicly mentioning the five I have, so I'll keep the others to myself for now. In the meantime, I want to wish all of my readers a Happy New Year and to thank you all for your continued interest and support. That means a lot to me.