Rich and Creamy

 A couple of weeks ago, I mentioned that, after so many years of refereeing Empire of the Petal Throne, I found myself craving a vanilla fantasy setting – something simpler and more straightforward than Tékumel but that was nevertheless very well done. I received a lot of good suggestions in the comments to that post, but one of the best ones came directly from Rob Conley, a fellow blogger who's done some truly excellent work over the years, especially regarding the subject of sandbox settings, both for fantasy and for Traveller. If you're at all interested in sandboxes, I highly recommend you check out those series of posts. In my opinion, they're pretty close to definitive.

Rob has done a lot of other great stuff worthy of your attention, like Blackmarsh, a free hexcrawl setting in the tradition of the Outdoor Survival map OD&D suggested the referee use for adjudicating wilderness travel and exploration. Blackmarsh is one of my favorite things from the first few years of the Old School Renaissance. I made use of it in my Dwimmermount campaign to represent the region immediately to the north of the main campaign area. It's a great example of well-done vanilla fantasy, providing a referee with just enough material to spark his own imagination without limiting his options.

Now, Rob is preparing to release another sandbox, one built on the foundation of Blackmarsh and related projects: Into the Majestic Fantasy Realms: The Northern Marches. As its title suggests, The Northern Marches is connected to Rob's Majestic Fantasy RPG, but is completely usable with your preferred old school fantasy rules. In that respect, it's a lot like Judges Guild's old Wilderlands of High Fantasy material in that it sketches out a huge amount of real estate that can be adopted and adapted as the referee sees fit. Rob has a long history with the Wilderlands setting, so I doubt he'd argue against saying his Majestic Fantasy Realms setting has been inspired by it, even if it's very much its own unique thing.

Rob very kindly shared with me his latest draft of The Northern Marches, which is an immense document of over 100,000 words. Don't be put off by its length. Though there are some high-level discussions of history, geography, politics, and religion, the vast majority of this text is devoted to short but evocative descriptions of the notable hexes of the four regional maps included with the book. Just as useful is the section devoted to traveling within the setting and all that that entails – caravans, ships, exhaustion, rates of travel, and more. This is, after all, a sandbox setting, so these sorts of things are absolutely essential to make full use of it. 

You can see the full table of contents, along with a preview of the setting here. Another overview of the setting and this project can be found in this post on Rob's blog. It's really well done and very much in keeping not just with the excellent material Rob has made before, but also with his work on creating and running sandbox campaigns. I was very impressed by the scope of The Northern Marches, not to mention the obvious work Rob has put into making it accessible and usable. While it's still too early to say how I might eventually decide to sate my craving for vanilla fantasy, I can say there's a very good chance I'll make use of The Northern Marches in one way or another. If that sounds like something you might be interested in, I highly recommend checking it out.

REVIEW: How to Make a Fantasy Sandbox

There were two great obsessions at the dawn of the Old School Renaissance: megadungeons and sandboxes. Each was a distinctive element of many of the foundational roleplaying game campaigns of the 1970s, like Blackmoor, Greyhawk, and Tékumel. Their rediscovery and promotion are among the lasting impacts of the OSR – so much so that both massive dungeons and open-ended hexcrawls are now permanent fixtures of the even wider RPG scene. 

Of the two, I'd say that megadungeons are probably the better understood and more commonly used, thanks in no small part to the many examples of them now available in print. Furthermore, a megadungeon is, in many ways, just a scaled-up version of a dungeon and almost everyone who's ever played a fantasy RPG, whether tabletop or electronic, knows what a dungeon is like and how it's constructed. However, sandboxes are, in my experience, both less common and less well understood. There are no doubt many reasons for this, but a big one, I think, is they require more preparation beforehand by the referee and preparation of a less formulaic sort than what's employed when designing a dungeon, regardless of its size.

Fortunately for those of us who enjoy fantasy sandboxes – my ongoing House of Worms campaign, for example, is something of a sandbox – there are resources out there to aid in their creation. The very best of them has long been Rob Conley's twenty-four part series on "How to Make a Fantasy Sandbox," whose first post appeared in the far-off time of September 2009. It's a terrific collection of blog posts, filled with good ideas and wisdom drawn from years of refereeing sandbox campaigns. I long ago bookmarked many of the posts and refer to them often in my own work, such as designing the Eshkom District for Secrets of sha-Arthan. If you've never read these posts before, I highly recommend you do so.

An equally good – maybe better – option would be to purchase How to Make a Fantasy Sandbox, 180-page compilation of Conley's blog posts, rewritten and expanded with examples, maps, and artwork, available in PDF, softcover, or hardcover formats. In the book's introduction, Conley provides both a nice overview of what a sandbox campaign is and his own reasons for enjoying them:

One of my favorite things to do with Tabletop RPGs is to create interesting places with interesting situations and then let the players trash the setting in pursuit of adventure.

That certainly encapsulates much of the fun my players and I have had with my House of Worms campaign. He goes on:

My focus is not to create any type of narrative. Rather, I focus on helping my players experience living their characters' lives while adventuring. It's called a sandbox campaign because like in life, the players are free to do anything their characters can do within the campaign setting.

This wide-open world with unlimited choices can be very challenging as a Game Master/Referee. The key to dealing with this challenge is organization. A systematic approach is needed to break down the enormous task of dealing with an entire world. Organized into bite-size chunks that one can do in the time they have for a hobby.

Once again, I think Conley has done a fine job here of distilling the essence and unique pleasures of a sandbox campaign, while also recognizing that creating and maintaining such a campaign is not always easy, hence the need for a guide such as this one. 

With that out of the way, he first describes and then elaborates upon thirty-three distinct steps in the process of designing a fantasy sandbox, from creating the map to placing settlements and lairs to choosing a "home base" for a new campaign. It's all presented clearly and methodically, so that it's easy for even a neophyte to follow. Best of all, Conley includes lots of examples throughout, drawn from his own experience of making fantasy sandboxes. Indeed, I'd go so far as to say that these examples are among my favorite parts of How to Make a Fantasy Sandbox. They not only serve as illustrations of design principles, but they also give some insight into Conley's own gaming past, which I found delightful and inspiring.

Throughout the text, the Isle of Pyade serves as the main example of how to implement the thirty-three steps to creating a fantasy sandbox setting. I found this very useful, because it's eminently practical and concrete rather than merely theoretical. If you follow the steps through, one by one, you'll see Pyade grow out of a blank hex map into a fully-fleshed out and complete location. Whether you're a novice or an old hand at this sort of thing, you'll learn a lot from the example of Pyade.

By the conclusion of How to Make a Fantasy Sandbox, the Isle of Pyade is now ready to use. However, many of its details – maps, NPCs, encounter tables, etc. – are scattered across its 180 pages, making it less suitable for use as a reference. Should you wish to make use of Pyade yourself, a better option might be the separate The Isle of Pyade book (available in electronic, softcover, and hardcover format), which takes all the relevant details and consolidates them in one place for greater coherence and ease of use. There's also some additional content in the form of artwork and color reproductions of the original maps Conley made in the late 1980s. If you're fan of RPG "archeology" as I am, this only adds to the value of The Isle of Pyade.

How to Make a Fantasy Sandbox is a very good book, one I am very happy to own and one I am certain I'll refer to and make use of in the years to come. In addition to all the thoughtful insights and clear instructions Conley provides, he "shows his work," which is to say, he lays bare how he works and why, right down to including very useful appendices of resources, hexmapping guidelines, travel and encounter rules, and information about the process behind creating Blackmarsh, his earlier published sandbox setting. Aside from some minor quibbles about editing, I have only praise to offer about this book. If you have even the slightest interest in creating and refereeing a sandbox campaign, consider picking up a copy. You won't regret it.

Dedications

I'd like to offer my thanks to Rob Conley, who pointed out that the title page of the first edition of FGU's Chivalry & Sorcery includes a dedication by the authors to the Society for Creative Anachronism (S.C.A.). The role of the SCA in the history of fantasy fandom (and, by extension, roleplaying games) is still underappreciated, I think. Since I've never been a member or attended any of the Society's events (though my college roommate went to Pennsic every summer), this is a topic about which I know very little. I'd love to know more about it, though, especially as it relates to the influence it may have had over the early days of the hobby.

REVIEW: The Basic Rules for the Majestic Fantasy RPG

More than a decade ago, Rob Conley wrote and published a supplement for use with Swords & Wizardry and other OD&D-descended fantasy roleplaying games which he entitled Supplement VI: The Majestic Wilderlands. I wrote a positive review of the book at that time and, having re-read it in preparation for doing this review, my opinion of it hasn't changed. If anything, I'd say my opinion has improved. A big reason for this is that it's very clear that it's the fruit of years of play, reflecting not just Conley's thoughts about what make good fantasy RPG rules but what has actually worked at his table over many years. As I said in my original review, I'm not wholly on board with every design decision Conley made but so what? There's scarcely a RPG product with which I have no reservations and I imagine that's the case for most people. In the end, though, The Majestic Wilderlands was a well presented rules supplement informed by years of both thought and play.

Consequently, I was pleased to hear that Conley had produced a new iteration of his supplement, this one called The Basic Rules for the Majesty Fantasy RPG (hereafter Basic Rules). Taking the form of a 204-page digest-sized book, Basic Rules contains everything needed to generate characters of levels 1–5 and referee their adventures – classes, races, spells, combat rules, monsters, treasures, and more. Though based on Swords & Wizardry, just like The Majestic Wilderlands, it's fully – and easily – adaptable to any fantasy roleplaying game derived from the original 1974 rules. 

That said, I think it important to point out the Basic Rules is not a clone as usually understood but rather a specific iteration of the 1974 rules modified, augmented, and otherwise altered to bring them in line with Conley's Majestic Fantasy Realms setting. This is reflected in two ways. First, many elements of the rules presentation explicitly connects to the setting. For example, the cleric class is not generic but instead represents a member of the militant arm of the church of Delaquain. goddess of war and justice. Second, scattered throughout the text are asides called "Rob's Notes," where Conley offers insights into why he adopted certain rules or rules modifications. I was particularly taken with these, not just because I enjoy reading about how other referees think but also because they drew my attention to deviations from the way things are generally done in OD&D-descended RPGs. For instance, Conley explains why he chose the spells included on a random table for scrolls – a small point perhaps but one I appreciated nonetheless.

Given all this, one might reasonably wonder, "What distinguishes Basic Rules for any of the literally dozens of other variations on the 1974 rules?" It's a fair question and one that Conley anticipates in his foreword, where he explains

A central feature of my campaigns is allowing the players to "trash" the setting by making their mark. Sometimes they only impact a single locale; other times they impact entire regions. Because of this, what characters do outside of adventuring is important. To support this, I created an ability system to handle some of the many things players may attempt to do outside of combat or magic. 

"Abilities" are a bit like broad-based skills, something I have, in the past, been suspicious of adding to old school D&D. Six years of refereeing Empire of the Petal Throne, which includes a rudimentary skill system, has softened my stance on the matter and I better appreciate what Conley has done here. There are only twenty abilities and members of any class can attempt them, though each class gets certain bonuses when attempting those most closely associated with their training. Though many of the abilities are what one would expect – climbing, perception, physician – others, such as haggling or herblore are not. These unexpected ones often relate to "what characters do outside of adventuring" and, I suspect, tie into systems like magic item creation that might get more fully fleshed out in a future Advanced Rules. Even without such a thing, I found them well chosen and their in-game uses well explained.

Even more interesting in my opinion are the combat options of Basic Rules. While still conforming to the overall texture of OD&D-style combat, Basic Rules introduces numerous simple but useful wrinkles. Most weapons, for example, have unique characteristics that set them apart from others, providing bonuses (e.g. the mace's effectiveness against chain armor or a crossbow's greater accuracy) that make them attractive in certain situations. There are also expanded rules for shields, combat stunts, and critical hits/misses, each of which is simple in itself but, when taken together, adds real options to play. More importantly, they've clearly been added with care and an eye toward ease of use, injecting some much needed flavor into the often-bland 1974 combat system. 

This same care and sensitivity to ease of use can be found throughout the book. Equipment, magic, NPCs, monsters, treasures, and more contain subtle differences that are flavorful and reflective of Conley's own tastes while not being so far removed from the baseline most of his readers already know from having played other OD&D descendants. Reading through Basic Rules, it quickly became clear to me what Conley's campaigns are like – open-ended, "sandboxy," and, above all, immersive in the setting itself – qualities very near and dear to my own heart. If you too have a fondness for campaigns of this sort and are looking for a supplement to inspire you, The Basic Rules for the Majestic Fantasy RPG might be exactly what you're looking for.

REVIEW: Blackmarsh

I'm usually down on gaming products that explicitly imitate -- or "ape" in my preferred phrase -- the graphic design of the older products they're meant to recall. That's why, for example, I have little love for the covers of all the adventure modules being produced today that are reminiscent of those produced by TSR in the Golden Age. I've come to accept that my opinion on this score is probably in the minority, but I nevertheless wish that more contemporary old school products broke free of the esthetic choices made by TSR circa 1978-1982 and blazed their own trails. While I don't think "nostalgia" is a dirty word, I do think the old school renaissance would be well served by stepping out of the long shadow cast by TSR, many of whose decisions, even those that bore good fruit, were rooted in a combination of inexperience and expedience far more often than in some coherent "vision." While I think it's great to look at the past for inspiration, the last thing we need is to be forever plowing the same creative fields as our illustrious predecessors.

So, by all rights, I really ought to dislike the cover of Rob Conley's Blackmarsh campaign setting, which obviously reminds one of the cover to the original The World of Greyhawk folio -- but I don't. If anything, the cover makes me even more fond of Blackmarsh than I otherwise would have been (and I already liked it a great deal). That's because Blackmarsh is probably closer in spirit to 1980 The World of Greyhawk gazetteer than any campaign setting product released in the last few years. Yes, there are plenty of differences in content, tone, and presentation, but, like that folio of old, Blackmarsh does a lot with a little, making a surprisingly tasty meal out of nothing but bare bones and leaving one with the impression that many more equally tasty meals could be had with its ingredients.

In that respect, Blackmarsh might more rightly be said to be the child of the original The World of Greyhawk folio and Judges Guild's various Wilderlands products, with some DNA from Blackmoor as well. In the span of 16 pages, Blackmarsh presents an area of 95 by 135 miles in area, called (naturally) Blackmarsh, after the strange swamps that dot the landscape of this region. Those 16 pages provide a basic overview of the setting and its particulars, in addition to maps, rumors, and brief descriptions of noteworthy 5-mile hexes. Those descriptions make up the bulk of Blackmarsh and clearly point to the Judges Guild "hexcrawl" heritage of this product, though there are enough settlements and dungeon locales scattered about the region to support other traditional elements of campaign play.

The region of Blackmarsh is characterized by two things. First is "The Mountain That Fell," an asteroid that struck the area long ago, shattering the landscape and scattering a substance called "viz" that is valuable as a reagent in many magical effects, including spellcasting. The second is its isolation from the centers of civilization, as the region's former rulers, the Bright Empire, retreated to the south several centuries ago, leaving Blackmarsh to fend for itself. If you recognize the name "the Bright Empire," that's because it's from one of Conley's earlier efforts, Points of Light, though there's no necessity that you own that product to use Blackmarsh. Taken together, these two characteristics of the region create a wide-open sandbox environment lacking in a centralized authority and rife with adventuring opportunities -- the perfect place to start a new campaign.

Blackmarsh is largely devoid of game statistics beyond very basic ones (level, class, hit dice, etc.), making it readily usable with almost any fantasy game system, even though it's specifically noted as being compatible with Brave Halfling's soon-to-be-released Delving Deeper. Indeed, a copy of Blackmarsh is included in the boxed set of Delving Deeper as an example of what a campaign setting might look like. I think this is a sound idea and is in many ways worth a great deal more than pages of advice to the referee on how to design a campaign setting, especially in a game geared to beginners. This is doubly true when the advice one is attempting to impart runs counter to so much of what is seen elsewhere in the hobby. A straightforward, unpretentious sandbox setting like Blackmarsh can concretely demonstrate the old school way of campaigning far better than several chapters on the subject.

This isn't to say that Blackmarsh is or should be the last word on the subject. There's still plenty of room for other takes on the old school campaign setting and I sincerely hope we'll see them. Furthermore, Blackmarsh isn't flawless. There are some editorial snafus here and there, like mistaken hex references, that weaken its presentation. Likewise, there seems to be a tension in its hex descriptions between those that present purely factual information -- "The leeward side of this island is choked with groves of thorny bushes and hedges." -- and those that present action in media res -- "A mother black dragon (old, HD 8) and her child (young, HD 7) have slaughtered a herd of deer and are in a meadow consuming the carcasses." I personally prefer the former and find the latter a clumsy way to present an adventure hook.

That said, Blackmarsh is presented as wholly Open Game Content. Anyone who wishes to uses its maps, locations, or background is free to do so for any purpose. In fact, the book includes the following commendable note:

It is the author's intention that the Blackmarsh setting is open content and free to use for commercial and non-commercial projects.

That's frankly the kind of attitude I can't help but applaud. If we see others take up and run with some of what Rob Conley has put on offer here, Blackmarsh will have proven its value above and beyond what you can read in its 16 pages.

Presentation: 7 out of 10
Creativity: 7 out of 10
Utility: 9 out of 10

Buy This If: You're looking for a bare bones sandbox setting to use or to loot for ideas for your fantasy roleplaying game campaign.
Don't Buy This If: You have no interest whatsoever in using a setting of someone else's creation.

Miniatures are Old School

Reading Rob Conley's post today about miniatures and their use reminded me that there's actually a fairly widespread prejudice against the use of miniatures in the online old school community. I find that rather odd, because, back in the day, minis were one of things nearly every article, report, or dramatization of roleplaying games included, even highlighted. Granted, this emphasis was largely driven by the usual journalistic/cinematic need for "flash," something visual to attract attention to its story, but that doesn't change the fact that the use of miniatures is deeply ingrained in the early days of the hobby. That only makes sense, given its roots in miniatures wargaming (as the covers of every OD&D book remind us in no uncertain terms), so what's at the root of this rejection of minis among old school gamers these days?

There are, I think, several factors at work here but two are critical. The first is that a lot of us have latched on to the very miniatures-heavy nature of the WotC editions of Dungeons & Dragons as a cause rather than a symptom of what we think is wrong with those games. Since they promote the use of minis and we don't like those games, minis have become, by extension, emblematic of all we dislike. To my mind, this is no more logical than disliking polyhedral dice for similar reasons but, for good or for ill, a lot of us have chosen to fixate on minis as the issue, not the design of the games themselves.

The second factor has to do with when most of us entered the hobby and the circumstances under which we did so. I was a mere lad of 10 in 1979 and was not a wargamer, miniatures or otherwise. Consequently, I had no prior history using minis as aids to adjudicate combat (or anything else). Certainly I saw lots of minis for sale -- I was particularly entranced by the large glass case of them at What's Your Game? in Harborplace -- but they mostly seemed like cool props or toys rather than something integral to play. I suspect this attitude is even more prevalent among gamers who entered the hobby a few years after I did, with Moldvay or Mentzer, when phrases like "products of your imagination" became popular as a marketing ploy. Thus, for gamers of a certain vintage, miniatures are not just optional, they're outside their experience.

There are other factors too, such as the time and expense necessary to buy and paint minis, as well as their relative impracticality if you have to cart boxes of them to your meeting place week after week. I also think that many of us in the old school movement have convinced ourselves that "old school = rules light" and further that miniatures are somehow contrary to being rules light. Leaving aside the error of equating rules lightness with old school -- a post for another day perhaps -- the use or rejection of minis is to my mind a separate question entirely. Likewise, I've sometimes seen, perhaps echoing TSR's catchphrase, the claim made that minis are somehow an impediment to one's imagination, or at least that they're a crutch for unimaginative players, although I doubt this is a widespread view.

I think, in the end, what we must acknowledge, as Rob does in his post, is that miniatures are simply a tool, like referee's screens or adventure modules. Their use or rejection has little to no bearing on whether a game is or is not "old school." It's true that Gary Gygax famously didn't use miniatures in his home campaign, as equally famously Dave Arneson did. I am sure, if you did a survey of first generation gamers, you'd find no consensus on the topic and that's fine. None of us should use or reject miniatures on the basis of what Gary or Dave did or didn't do, but I do think it behooves us all to remember that this hobby arose out of miniatures wargaming and many early gamers profitably used miniatures in their campaigns. Far from being contrary to old school gaming, miniatures are very much a part of it, even if many of us choose not to follow suit today for reasons of our own.

REVIEW: The Majestic Wilderlands

(In the interests of full disclosure, I've worked with Rob Conley on a couple of old school projects, including The Cursed Chateau, so bear this in mind when reading this review. I make no claims to any absolute objectivity in my reviews, including this one, but it's not unreasonable to expect me to admit when I'm reviewing a product by someone with whom I've had a past business relationship.)

Supplement VI: The Majestic Wilderlands is cartographer extraordinaire Rob Conley's first foray into self-publishing and he doesn't fail to impress. Conley had already penned (along with collaborator Dwayne Gillingham) two superb installments of the Points of Light series, published by Goodman Games, along with articles in Fight On! and a D20 revisions to classic Judges Guild adventures, so I expected good things from The Majestic Wilderlands and I was not disappointed. It's a 140-page digest-sized supplement to Swords & Wizardry, although it's easily usable with "all editions based on the original 1974 roleplaying game." The book is available in three formats, two print (one with the cover pictured to the right and another with an "original style" cover), and one in PDF. Both print editions sell for $12, while the PDF carries a $7 price tag. Given the density of the text and small font size, there's quite a lot of material packed in its pages, so the prices are more than reasonable for what you get, especially when compared with many other old school products these days.

As its title implies, The Majestic Wilderlands is a licensed product, presenting Conley's vision of the venerable Judges Guild Wilderlands setting. This vision is based on his having used the setting over the course of three decades, adding to it and expanding it as the demands of his players and campaign demanded. The result is a setting that's at once familiar and new, a version of the Wilderlands that's a bit more "realistic" than the standard one, which is to say, one that's more concerned with sociological and political concerns than you'd expect. That's not to say The Majestic Wilderlands is a dry read -- it's not -- but it definitely has a different feel than the original Judges Guild material on which it's based. That said, fans whose visions of the Wilderlands are more "traditional" will still find a lot to like here, as Conley's included lots of little details that could be imported into campaigns based there (or indeed most fantasy campaign settings). Conley's vision of the Wilderlands doesn't completely mesh with my own, but it's difficult not to admire his craftsmanship in world building. The Majestic Wilderlands, as presented here, is clearly a work of love and imagination in the best old school tradition.

The Majestic Wilderlands bills itself as "Supplement VI," a nomenclature that might strike some as odd. It's obviously a reference both to the original OD&D supplements and to Geoffrey McKinney's Carcosa, which claimed the title of "Supplement V." I don't want to rehash the controversies surrounding Carcosa here; I think everyone who has an opinion on the subject has already expressed them. That said, I was critical of McKinney's decision in my own review of Carcosa and I haven't changed my mind on this score. Much as I admire OD&D and its supplement -- indeed, because I admire them -- I don't think it appropriate to add one's own work to the canon, so to speak. That's a judgment for others to make. Doing otherwise could be misconstrued as arrogance, or at least cheek, and might turn off people who would otherwise enjoy the content of one's book.

Fortunately, with only a couple of exceptions, the content of The Majestic Wilderlands is top-notch. Conley boldly divided the book into three sections modeled on the three volumes of OD&D. The first, "Men & Magic," provides new character options. Among these are several new sub-classes, such as Berserkers, Knights, Soldiers, Paladins of Mitra, Myrmidons of Set for Fighting Men, and Mages, Artificers, Wizards, Rune-Casters, and Theurgists for Magic-Users. The classes are all well-done, both mechanically and stylistically. I have some issues with a few of them (the Soldier seems unnecessary, for example), but I like many a great deal, particularly the Myrmidons of Set, which would work nicely in my Dwimmermount campaign as elite warriors of Typhon. Conley provides new options for Clerics too by describing each faith of the Majestic Wilderlands, often imposing new restrictions on the class while at the same time opening up new possibilities. It's a nice approach, one that takes the kernel of a good idea in 2e's specialty priests while avoiding its pitfalls.

Section I also introduced a new class and its attendant sub-classes: the Rogue. Rogues are characters who are neither good at fighting or magic but instead excel at certain abilities, which is to say, skills. All Rogues (Burglars, Thugs, Mountebanks, Claws of Kalis, and Merchant Adventurers) depend heavily on the skill system introduced in The Majestic Wilderlands. As you'd expect, I have mixed feelings about this. On the one hand, I like the idea behind several of these classes, particularly the Mountebank, but skills make me very uneasy in a class-based game. The skill system Conley presents is simple enough: roll 1D20, modified by appropriate class and ability bonuses (if any), and score 15 or higher to achieve a success. As such systems go, it's pretty inoffensive. I'm simply not convinced that it's needed, but I realize I may be eccentric about this point. I'm probably also eccentric in disliking the idea of NPC classes, particularly for "non-adventurers." The Majestic Wilderlands gives us several of these: Craftsman, Hedge Mage, Priest, and Scholars. All remind me of the "cut-down" NPC classes we saw in D&D III and, again, I don't really see the necessity for them, particularly in an old school game.

The section continues with an overview of playable races, with a few new options, including some specific to the Wilderlands. There are also some nice new rules for combat that are simple yet flavorful and should do a lot to making OD&D-style combat more tactically rich. Following that is a section of magic that, among other details, introduces "rituals," which enable a spellcaster to cast a spell straight out of his spellbook without having to memorize it beforehand, but the spell is slower than normal and carries a material component cost dependent on its level. As Conley admits outright, "The intent of this system is that most utility spells are cast via rituals in
the Majestic Wilderlands." As you'd expect, I don't much care for the concept of rituals, precisely because it changes the complexion of spellcasting character classes in a profound way. Without the so-called "utility spells" taking up spell slots, spellcasters no longer have to weigh combat effectiveness against the unpredictable needs of adventuring. Should I memorize find traps or hold person is a significant decision for the player of a 4th-level Cleric, who only gets a single 2nd-level spell. Rituals obviate the need for such a decision, thereby changing the way the class -- and the game -- is played. Again, I'm sure many will find rituals a welcome addition to the game, but, for my part, I think it does serious violence to the class structure of D&D and would never allow the rules to be used in my campaign.

Section II is "Monsters & Treasure" and introduces several new monsters and magic items. It's the shortest section in the book (only 10 pages), but nevertheless manages to inject some new approaches to some staples of the game. Section III, "Underworld & Wilderness Adventures," takes up close to half the book and presents Conley's vision of the Wilderlands setting, complete with maps and a gazetteer of it all. Nearly the entirety of this vast setting gets at least some discussion, with the area around the famed City-State getting the most. Conley shows a remarkable ability to say a lot in a few words and, while no region gets dozens of paragraphs devoted to it, each one provides enough detail to inspire a referee -- proof positive that campaign setting books need not be huge technical manuals consisting of hundreds of pages to be satisfactory. The various cultures that inhabit the Majestic Wilderlands gets more detail and it's here where Conley's vision comes through most clearly. He cares a great deal about society, culture, and (especially) religion and it's these forces, moreso even than monsters and magic, that drive the Wilderlands in his estimation. This helps give the whole a "serious" quality to it that, while not wholly to my taste, is nevertheless extremely attractive. Conley's love for the setting is palpable and infectious.

In the final analysis, The Majestic Wilderlands is a terrific book and another great example of old school game design. Both in terms of its game mechanics and its setting material, this product proves the old adage that "less is more." It likewise counters the notion that, without reams of precise rules and setting detail, you don't have enough material to run a RPG campaign adequately. The Majestic Wilderlands is a model of compendiousness, providing all that's needed to play without being cryptic. And while I dislike some of the rules included, for both philosophical and practical reasons, they're easily omitted. Moreover, Conley provides so much in these pages that, even eliminating those sections I dislike, there is still plenty to admire and, most importantly, use in one's own campaign. The Majestic Wilderlands is a triumph and a nice capstone to a year that has seen the old school movement prosper and diversify. Here's hoping we see more products of this sort, from Robert Conley and others, in the years to come.

Presentation: 7 out of 10
Creativity: 9 out of 10
Utility: 9 out of 10

Buy This If: You're either a Wilderlands fan (or looking to become one) or interested in some excellent supplemental rules to Swords & Wizardry (or any OD&D-derived game).
Don't Buy This If: You have no interest in the Wilderlands or prefer to keep your OD&D-derived game free from supplemental rules.

REVIEW: Points of Light II: The Sunrise Sea

Writing reviews to "sequels" is always difficult for me, especially if the follow-up product shares a lot in common with its predecessor. On the one hand, I could just point readers to my review of the original Points of Light and say, "It's just like this but with new settings." On the other, I could cover a lot of the same ground and use examples from the new product to make the same points as I did in the original. The second approach is particularly tempting in this case, because Points of Light II by Robert Conley and Dwayne Gillingham shares most of Points of Light's virtues without introducing (many) vices of its own.

Before elaborating on that point, let's get down to the nitty-gritty. Points of Light II is longer than the original, being 64 pages in length rather than 48 (with a corresponding increase in price to $15.99 from $12.99). Otherwise, the book is physically remarkably similar to its predecessor, including the artwork and the attractively minimalist cartography. The main difference I noted was the presence of what seemed like more mini-maps for settlements than was included in Points of Light, but it's possible I'm mistaken on this point. Regardless, if you liked the look and layout of the original, you will find nothing to complain about in this product.

As in the first book, Points of Light II offers four sandbox setting for use with any fantasy roleplaying game, although, again, it's clear that Dungeons & Dragons players are its target audience. Interestingly, Points of Light II, while still very stat-light, employs some D&D IV-specific terminology in describing monsters ("brute," "elite skirmisher," etc.) that I found both jarring and unncessary. Similarly, the overall power level of the new settings seems higher than that in the original, with a number of encounters being being at levels 20 or more -- another concession, I think, the advancement scheme of the new edition of D&D that was wholly absent in the initial release.

Points of Light II's four settings are all very well done, as you'd expect from its authors. If anything, they're all much more imaginative than those of its predecessor.

• The Golden Shores: This is a kind of fantasy "age of colonization" setting, complete with valuable resources to exploit, a restive aboriginal population, and shadowy enemies. It's by far my favorite of the four settings.
• Amacui: If "the Golden Shores" is a fantasy version of the colonization of North America, then Amacui is more like the conquest of South (or Central) America, complete with Aztec analogs, albeit ones in a much better position to defend themselves against outsiders.
• The Misty Isles: This setting is an archipelago consisting of many islands that vary in terms of their inhabitants and challenges -- think The Isle of Dread spread over many islands.
• Mazatl: This is the oddest of the four settings in my opinion: the volcano home of an evil god. It's a very portable setting, I think, but one that struck me as being much more limited in scope compared to the other three. Mazatl is really more of a locale than a setting, if that distinction makes sense.

As you can see, Points of Light II focuses more on exotic, far-off settings than did its predecessor. That's both its biggest selling point and its greatest potential pitfall. I think this product is more likely to appeal to experienced gamers looking for a change of pace than it is to new gamers or those new to the idea of sandbox play. That's a very small criticism, since there's a lot in these settings that can easily be transplanted elsewhere without much difficulty. Likewise, it's no crime to cater to experienced gamers, who are often just as in need of new ideas as their neophyte brethren.

Each setting in Points of Light II is longer and includes more keyed areas than its predecessor. Again, this needn't be a vice, since the descriptive text remains every bit as laconic and suggestive as in Points of Light. The mythology and background of the first book is carried over to this one, but it's generally thin enough that it can be easily discarded. Plus, each setting includes adaptation notes that point out how one might make changes to a setting so as to maintain its feel seamlessly. The notes are brief but then, as I noted, the settings are broad enough in conception that adaptation shouldn't take much effort in any case.

Points of Light II is thus a very good product. It's a little less "primal" than its predecessor, which focused on more iconic fantasy RPG campaign settings, but I have no doubt many will find this a selling point. There's a lot to like here and I hope we'll be seeing more work by Conley and Gilllingham in the future -- perhaps some smaller scale adventuring locales?

Presentation: 8 out of 10
Creativity: 8 out of 10
Utility: 7 out of 10

Buy This If: You're looking for some exotic settings for your next sandbox campaign.
Don't Buy This If: You have no interest in sandbox gaming or your settings tend toward familiar fantasy tropes.

Campaign Map, Hârn-style

Courtesy of cartographer extraordinaire, Rob Conley, here's the Dwimmermount campaign map, re-done in the style of Hârn.

REVIEW: Points of Light

Points of Light, written by Robert Conley and Dwayne Gillingham, packs more old school goodness in its 48 pages than any product published in 2008 has any right to. Don't believe me? Take a look at the 11-page PDF preview and then come back here. Even a quick skim of that preview will make it clear what I'm talking about. Quite simply: Points of Light is the Wilderlands of High Fantasy for the 21st century -- and in some ways it's better. Hyperbole comes easily to me, doesn't it? Perhaps. Let's take a closer look at the book before continue with my effusive praise.

Points of Light describes four different settings, each one broadly consonant with the notion of a dangerous wilderness punctuated by small outposts of civilization. As everyone knows, this is the default setting assumption of 4e and the book's title is an allusion to it. I'll grant you that, when I first heard the title, I wasn't enthused. Like most things about 4e, "Points of Light," as a phrase, reminds me too much of my college philosophy classes, where 18 year-olds, confronted with Plato's dialogs for the first time, suddenly think thoughts they believe no one has ever thought before, failing to realize of course that Plato has been read and analyzed for 2500 years and that there are very likely no new thoughts about the great thinker. By the same token, "points of light" isn't new at all; it's been a setting assumption of D&D from the start. The formalization of the concept -- and the creation of jargon to describe it -- is a good indicator to me of how rootless 4e is, but that's a topic for another time. I don't blame the authors of Goodman Games for adopting the title in an effort to sell the product to players of the new edition, who could certainly learn a few things about the old school from its tightly-written pages.

Despite its title, Points of Light is not, in fact, a 4e product; indeed it's not a product for any system, since it contains almost no game stats at all. What stats it does include, such as references to classes and levels, for example, suggests that it's intended for D&D, but I have no doubt it'd be easily adaptable to any fantasy roleplaying game built on the same concepts as D&D. I was mostly quite pleased with this approach, as it increased the utility of the book a great deal and makes adaptation a snap. My only quibble -- and it's a tiny one -- is that some "high-level" NPCs are in fact given specific levels (Clr12, for instance). I'd have preferred that such things remain vague, so each referee could decide for himself what constitutes high-level. Now, such things are supremely easy to change, so I cannot complain too vociferously. I know from experience, though, that, if something is written in the book, at least some referees or players will expect it to be so and, in a toolkit product like this, the fewer expectations that are introduced, the better.

The meat of the book are the four settings it describes, each with an accompanying one-page hex map (each hex representing 5 miles). Each setting is given a capsule history of three or four paragraphs to "set the scene" and Adaptation Notes that give some ideas about how to customize it to suit the needs and interests of each referee. There is also a table of random encounters and random rumors to give the referee something from which to work in making the settings his own. The descriptions of the settings are divided into sections: Geography, describing terrain features and Locales, describing fixed "encounters," whether they be settlements, monster lairs, ruins, etc. Each hex is numbered and there is an entry in the appropriate section if the hex contains anything noteworthy. These entries are typically no more than a single paragraph, with a few (generally settlements) containing a little more detail (and possibly a thumbnail map). There's just enough detail here to spur the referee's own imagination and give a sense of a greater whole, but not so much that it's hard to change the details if so desired.

The four settings included in Points of Light are as follows:

• Wildland: An area analogous to an outlying province of the Roman Empire in the 5th century A.D. -- after the legions have gone. As its name suggests, it's a "wild" region, overrun with humanoid and barbarian tribes and only a few small outposts of civilization that cling to the old ways.
• Southland: An homage to the Outdoor Survival map of which OD&D often speaks, this setting is an untamed area "to the south" of civilized kingdoms and where the PCs are expected to go and establish themselves as local lords.
• Borderland: This is a war-torn area where several different factions seek the upper hand. It's a good locale for referees and players who like moral ambiguity and intrigue.
• Swamps of Acheron: The most unusual of the four settings, this one is located in an extraplanar realm dedicated to a Lawful Evil god, meaning that it's also the most limited of the settings. It's also the shortest of the four settings (and the one with the smallest map), which can be seen as either good or bad, depending on one's proclivities

Of the four settings, I found that both Wildland and Southland fired my imagination powerfully and I am already torn between using one or the other as the basis for a new campaign. Borderland is also excellent, but it's a bit less "primal" than the other two. The Swamps of Acheron is a puzzle. There are lots of good ideas within its description, but it's also very esoteric, being extraplanar in nature and the realm of an evil god. Its utility is much less than that of the other three, but the other three are so well-done that I scarcely minded. And of course, the Swamps of Acheron is good; it's just not as good in my opinion as the others, but tastes differ on such things.

The layout of the book is simple and usable. The illustrations are nice black and white pieces, definitely contemporary in their appearance but not of the Elmore strike-a-pose school. The writing is generally very clear and concise, with only a few infelicities here and there. The hex maps are simply gorgeous, a beautiful melding of old school sensibilities with modern technology. Indeed, that's how I could characterize Points of Light in general. It's an old school product with new school production values. The book even includes an extensive index, making it easy to find things, which is a nice if somewhat unnecessary touch in a book of this size. All in all, the presentation of Points of Light should serve as a model for how old school publishers present their own products. I'd have liked different interior art, for the most part, but it's not a huge issue and, given that the book is intended to appeal to a broad spectrum of fantasy gamers, I can't fault Goodman Games for not going with something more strongly connected to older forms of illustration.

If Points of Light has a significant flaw, it's the intimation of a larger setting when you look at all four regions it describes. Certain names, historical events, and concepts reappear throughout the book. Now, none of these things gets much -- or any -- explication in the text, so it's not a huge concern. My worry, I suppose, is that there will be a temptation to use these names and so forth as the basis for creating a larger setting that encompasses them all, as was done with the Dungeon Crawl Classics line. The desire to find coherence and unity where there is no need for either is a powerful force in the RPG hobby today. As it stands, Points of Light gives us the thinnest of details, a pencil outline on a broad canvas that we can then color to our own liking. However, I am sure there will be gamers out there who'd like to know more about the history of the Bright Empire or the teachings of the goddess Delaquain and game publishers have a tendency to cater to such obsessives. I'd hate to see that happen, but I can hardly fault this book for what might or might not happen in possible sequels to it.

Leaving aside my concerns for a future that might not be, Points of Light is nearly perfect -- so perfect in fact that I can reasonably call it the Wilderlands of High Fantasy for the next generation. Like its illustrious predecessor, this is a product that's meant to be used rather than pored over for trivial details. One cannot (yet) talk about the intricacies of any of its settings, because they simply don't exist. In that respect, I think it has more utility than the Wilderlands, but then the Wilderlands has had almost three decades of support products. Given that much time, I fear the "world" of Points of Light would be just as detailed. I hope that does not occur; I hope that the toolkit approach of this volume is kept pristine.

The animating philosophy behind this great book is "imagine the hell out of it," a do-it-yourself perspective that is positively refreshing in a hobby filled with brand building and canned settings. Points of Light is gaming at its best -- a call to each referee to use these raw materials to create their own worlds of the imagination rather than relying on the pabulum spoon fed by game companies looking to develop an IP. I have no idea if Points of Light will appeal to today's gamers; I'd love to find out that it sold like gangbusters. That'd be proof that the old ways aren't quite dead, that the kind of gaming I enjoy is still cherished. Regardless, this is a terrific book and I can't speak highly enough about it. Go out and buy a copy and see for yourself.

Final Score: 5 out of 5 polearms