Planned Obsolescence

Though written with board games in mind, the quote from a very fascinating blog post could just as easily be applied to RPGs:

Now we have a publishing culture whose business is to get people to buy, not to play. That means games that don't last for more than a few plays, games that appeal to collectors or fad culture, and games that need quick massive sales in order to be worth publishing - because they're not going to be worth anything next year.

What I find particularly interesting about the post is that the author rightly notes the role that television has played in forever changing the way games are made and played. I've noted many times in the past that the cultural shift away from the written word and toward visual media has had a deleterious effect on the way people now conceive of fantasy, an effect that's shown very clearly in the way D&D has changed over the last 34 years. I'd never considered the effect it might have an effect even on the way games are sold.

Much to consider here.

A Crazy Idea

Here's the thing: like most gamers I want to be a writer. Technically, I already am a writer and have been for years. Besides this blog, I've written quite a lot of gaming material. But that's not the same as being a writer, by which I mean a writer of fiction.

I've got a lot of ideas for short stories and, as any aficionado of swords-and-sorcery literature will tell you, short stories are the native form of the genre. The problem is that there aren't a lot of outlets for short stories anymore. There are a handful of magazines out there who are theoretically interested in swords-and-sorcery tales, but it's just a handful and many of them tend to have slush piles so tall that the odds of breaking into print are slim. On the book publishing side of the equation, fantasy generally means interminably long books that are part of an interminably long series that started out as trilogies and then just never ended. I have no interest in contributing to that literary miscarriage, even if I had stories I could somehow extend in perpetuity (which I don't).

What I do have, though, are some ideas for a series of short stories about a failed wizard's apprentice named Ya'govian of Volmar. What I think might make my stories interesting -- and dare I say unique in the annals of swords-and-sorcery -- is that Ya'govian is a family man, married to a respectable priestess and father to three children. Because of his wife's position, Ya'govian doesn't lack for much in the material sense, but, as he approaches middle age, he's growing bored of his cosseted lifestyle and looks back on his failed apprenticeship with increasing regret -- which is naturally how his adventures begin.

In any case, what I plan on doing is posting these stories here once I write them. I have a large enough readership that I ought to be able to gauge how much people like what I'm writing. If there's actual interest, which is to say, if my readers think my writing isn't terrible, I might then be able to collect these short stories together and do some kind of print on demand edition or even try and sell them to a "real" publisher. The point is I'll be using this blog as a testing ground for my fiction every now and again. It won't be often and the first installment might not come for a month or more, but I wanted to give everyone a heads up so they won't be surprised when Ya'govian of Volmar makes his appearance on this site in the future.

Continuity and Tradition, Part IV

Let me begin by saying that, with a few exceptions, I am a big fan of Pixar's movies. Even in the wake of some truly excellent superhero films in recent years, I remain convinced that The Incredibles is the best treatment of the genre ever put to film, for example. So, I'm not a hater of Pixar's work (though Ratatouille was a miserable, self-absorbed film, but I digress).

When I heard that the studio had acquired the rights to produce a movie based on Edgar Rice Burroughs' John Carter of Mars books, I was elated. If anyone could do these stories justice, it'd be Pixar. Looks like I may have been wrong. Andrew Stanton, who's writing and directing the film (slated for 2012 release), recently said this about his approach to the original source material: "I'm going to do what I remember more than what they [i.e. the stories] exactly do ..." Granted, that isn't necessarily a bad thing. Film is a different medium than literature, so there are occasions where changes make sense.

Indeed, slavish adaptations are often very unsatisfying. Still, you want to feel that the people adapting the stories understand and respect their sources and that any changes they make arise out of that. Based on what Jim Morris, the general manager at Pixar, added to Stanton's comments, I'm not so sure this will be the case.

"Everything that's been out there has been an attempt to kind of capture this Deco-esque [Frank] Frazetta vision of John Carter, which I think feels old and stale," he said. "And where Stanton is going--from what we've seen so far--is very different than that. And I think that the people who really love the essence of the books will really dig it, but so will audiences in general."

The "essence of the books?" That sets off alarm bells in my head. Whenever someone talks about the "essence" of something of long vintage, it usually means they're going to gut the thing of its core in the name of brand building.

And that's the thing that baffles me here. John Carter isn't exactly a household name. Compared to Tarzan, he's a nobody. There have been, so far as I know, no major Barsoom-related movies, TV shows, or cartoons. Most average people have never heard of Carter or Dejah Thoris and wouldn't know what a Thark was if it bit them. Given that, why even bother to adapt Burroughs if what you really want to do is tell something very different than the original stories. Again, don't get me wrong: there are aspects of the John Carter stories I can see some justification in changing for the benefit of contemporary sensibilities. But, really, what's the point in doing a John Carter of Mars movie if you're not going to base them on the books? It's not as if there's a dearth of planetary romance stories Pixar could mine in developing its own original story in that genre.

It's still early, so perhaps the end result will be better than I fear it will be, but I am not sanguine based on these early reports. Because Barsoom is not a household name, the Pixar film may be many people's first exposure to it; consequently, it should be treated with respect for the way Burroughs described it. If Pixar can't do that, they should just create their own story. They're clever enough to do that, right?

Research

Can anyone direct to me to any Open Game Content versions of the Dao and Marid (preferably both)?

Thanks.

Useful Link

If you haven't already checked out Kellri's "Old School Encounters Reference," you should. It's almost certainly one of the most useful old school gaming products I've seen. I plan to write a more formal review of the thing sometime in the near future, but please don't wait on my say-so. Seriously, it's an amazing piece of work and one I'd gladly have paid for. That it's free only makes it even more amazing.

Grognard's Grimoire: S&W Paladin

I've said before that the paladin is probably my favorite D&D class. I've played a lot of paladins over the years and I find it to be much fun despite -- or perhaps because of -- the restrictions placed on the class. I think that in campaigns heavily influenced by pulp fantasy, a paladin is going to have a rough time of it, which is as it should be. Paladins clearly run counter many of the currents of pulp fantasy, since they're not amoral bastards looking to make a quick gold piece at any cost. Like Holger Carlsen from Poul Anderson's Three Hearts and Three Lions (after whom the class is patterned), a paladin must walk a difficult path.

So, what I've set out to do here is create a paladin class for Swords & Wizardry. It's largely based on its original appearance in Supplement I: Greyhawk, but it's been modified somewhat, both to conform to the Open Game License and to the way S&W handles certain mechanical elements. Those unfamiliar with the OD&D paladin will note that the class lacks the ability to cast spells or turn undead. Likewise, some mechanical elements of the class are kept "loose" so as to allow individual referees to interpret them as they wish.

As a final note, I ditched the 17+ Charisma requirement from the paladin, because S&W, like OD&D before it, places much less emphasis on ability scores than do later editions of D&D. I think D&D largely went down the wrong path by making high ability scores so vital to play. Likewise, my feeling is that, while the referee should limit the number of paladins in his campaign, there's no need to make playing a paladin any more difficult than it already is by adding an onerous ability score requirement on top of its other drawbacks.

The material in the quote box below is hereby designated Open Game Content via the Open Game License.

The Paladin

Hit Die Type: 1d6+2 per level. After reaching 9 hit dice, the paladin gains only 3 hit points per level.

Armor/Shield Permitted: Any
Weapons Permitted: Any
Prime Attribute (5% xp bonus): Strength 13+, Wisdom 13+
Alignment: Lawful (Good)
Race: Human

Paladin Class Abilities and Restrictions

Associates: A paladin will never knowingly associate with Neutral or Chaotic characters, nor will he or she continue an association with someone who consistently offends his or her code of conduct (see below). A paladin may accept only henchmen or hirelings who are Lawful (Good).

Code of Conduct: A paladin must be of Lawful (Good) alignment and loses all class abilities if he or she ever willingly commits a Chaotic (Evil) act. Additionally, a paladin’s code requires that he or she respect legitimate authority, act with honor (not lying, not cheating, not using poison, and so forth), help those in need (provided they do not use the help for evil or chaotic ends), and punish those who harm or threaten innocents.

Detect Evil: At will, a paladin can detect evil, as per the 2nd-level clerical spell of the same name.

Dispel Evil (8th): At eighth level, a paladin may dispel evil once per day, as the 5th-level clerical spell of the same name.

Divine Health: A paladin gains immunity to all diseases.

Establish Stronghold (9th): At ninth level, a paladin may establish a modest stronghold and attract a small body of loyal men-at-arms who will swear fealty to him. Preferably, this stronghold will be within the domain of a Lawful (Good) ruler, but this is not a requirement.

Ex-Paladins: A paladin who ceases to be Lawful (Good), who willfully commits a Chaotic (Evil) act, or who grossly violates the code of conduct loses all paladin class abilities (including the service of the special mount), becoming forevermore a Fighter of a level equivalent to his or her current experience point total.

Lay on Hands: Each day a paladin can heal a total number of hit points of damage equal to his or her paladin level x 2.

Remove Disease: Each day a paladin can cure one disease for every five levels he or she possesses.

Special Mount: A paladin may choose to gain the service of an unusually intelligent, strong, and loyal steed to serve him or her. This mount is usually a warhorse. Should the paladin’s mount die, he or she may not summon another mount for 10 years. Unlike normal warhorses, a paladin's special mount has AC 5 [14], 5 Hit Dice, and a higher than normal intelligence.

Wealth: A paladin may never possess more than five magical item, not counting a single suit of armor, a single shield, and up to five weapons. In addition, a paladin must donate all treasure they acquire, except that needed for personal upkeep and that of his or her henchmen, hirelings, men-at-arms, and stronghold (if any).

Paladin Advancement Table

Level	Experience Points Required	Hit Dice (d6+2)	Saving Throw
1	0	1	14
2	2,500	2	13
3	5,000	3	12
4	10,000	4	11
5	20,000	5	10
6	35,000	6	9
7	70,000	7	8
8	140,000	8	7
9	275,000	9	6
10	500,000	9+3 hp	5
11	600,000	9+3 hp	4
12	700,000	9+3 hp	4
13	800,000	9+3 hp	4
14	900,000	9+3 hp	4
15	1,00,000	9+3 hp	4
16	1,100,000	9+3 hp	4
17	1,200,000	9+3 hp	4
18	1,300,000	9+3 hp	4
19	1,400,000	9+3 hp	4
20	1,500,000 (100,000 per level beyond)	9+3 hp (+3 per level beyond)	4 (remains at 4)

Happy Birthday, Dave Arneson

On this day in 1947, David L. Arneson, co-creator of Dungeons & Dragons, was born.

Mr. Arneson's role in the early days of the hobby is sometimes overlooked by people who know better, myself included. The dungeon as focus of play was born in his Blackmoor campaign, making possible the game we now recognize as D&D. At the very least, it's safe to say that, without Mr. Arneson, fantasy gaming might have been very different than it is today.

I'd like to extend my personal felicitations to him on the occasion of his 61st birthday and wish him health, happiness, and long life. He is one of the founders of our shared hobby; it's only right that he should be honored, not only on this day but throughout the year.

Happy Birthday, Dave!

Retrospective: The Village of Hommlet

I absolutely adore The Village of Hommlet.

There are a lot of reasons why this is so, but I think, more than anything, what I like most about it is that it has an ominous, brooding character to it that haunts my imagination. Unlike, say, the Keep from Keep on the Borderlands, Hommlet feels like it's a community that sits on the precipice of disaster. Though the forces of Good carried the day and defeated the forces of Elemental Evil some years previously, the victory was not total and everyone in Hommlet knows it -- even if they dare not speak the truth. The ruins of the moathouse are stirring again and agents of Elemental Evil have infiltrated the village. Everyone knows it's only a matter of time before Evil will again rear its ugly head; it's simply a question of when and whether Hommlet will emerge from the coming battle intact.

I don't know; it's hard to explain. There's just something powerful about this set-up, something that, for me anyway, strikes me as the perfect set-up for a new campaign. I share with Tolkien the conception of history as a "long defeat" and The Village of Hommlet touches on that theme obliquely -- the notion that each generation must stare Evil in the face and bar the way of its advance, even if it's ultimately just a holding action, for Evil can never truly be defeated in this life. Obviously, I'm reading more into this module than is there in the text, but that's part of the point of this entry. T1 inspires in me a lot of feelings and emotions that I find incredibly useful in kicking off an old school fantasy campaign.

There's also the fact that, as the cover notes, The Village of Hommlet is the "first of 2 modules." T2, as originally conceived, never came out and I regret that. When we finally got The Temple of Elemental Evil, it was nothing like the module I expected it to be, nor do I think was it much like the module Gary would have written had he done so in 1979, as planned. The six year gap between T1 and its sequel gave me plenty of time to create my own conception of the Temple of Elemental Evil, which bore little resemblance to what we finally saw in 1985. The "unfinished" character of T1 is appealing to me; I see it as representing unexplored possibilities and, for me, that's the essence of old school module making.

Hommlet itself is a joy. I love every little bit of it, from the Inn of the Welcome Wench to the tower of Burne and Rufus. The inhabitants of the village, from their names to their personalities, are Gygax at his mellifluent best: Jaroo Ashstaff, Calmert, Fernok of Ferd, Ostler Gundigoot, and more. And of course my love for the church of St. Cuthbert was forever by his holy sayings presented in the module, such as:

SQUARE CORNERS CAN BE POUNDED SMOOTH
THICK HEADS ARE NOT MADE OF GLASS
SALVATION IS BETTER THAN SMART ANSWERS

Little details like that simply tickle my fancy. Likewise, the pretty squabbles of the various villagers over past slights, the rivalry between the followers of St. Cuthbert and the Old Faith, and the loves and losses of the townsfolk are an amazing tableau against which to adventure. The whole thing is very atmospheric and I can't helped but be pulled into it.

Then there's the moathouse, which has everything I crave from a low-level old school dungeon: a plausble backstory, lots of vermin, and several encounters that might, if the PCs are foolhardy, lead to deaths. To my mind, the moathouse ruins provide a superb template which other referees might use in creating their own starting dungeons. It's a great example of Gygaxian naturalism in action, which is itself a reminder that, while the campaign may be set in a fantasy world, that doesn't mean the world exists solely to fulfill the players' fantasies. There are many encounters -- such as the giant crayfish -- that will kill low-level PCs if they are stupid enough to charge in until they are ready to do so. I like that a lot and it's something that D&D has slowly lost over the years, much to my disappointment.

What can I say? I absolutely adore The Village of Hommlet.

Fantastic Medieval Wargames

As the furor over whether or not 4e represents a major departure from D&D's roots has raged, lots of people haveturned OD&D in an effort to find support for their own position in this argument. In many cases, the people turning to OD&D have neither firsthand experience playing the game nor any knowledge of the history and culture of the early days of the hobby. Consequently, they view OD&D through a modern lens that leads them astray.

Case in point: the subtitle of OD&D. "Rules for Fantastic Medieval Wargames Campaigns Playable with Paper and Pencil and Miniature Figures." Those words are included on the cover all three little brown books and on Supplements I through IV. On the face of it, the words "fantastic medieval wargames" would seem to imply that, from the beginning, D&D was nothing more than a military simulation, albeit one with fantastical elements, such as magic and dragons. If so, this might support the notion that focusing on tactical combat is in fact a return to the game's roots rather than a flight from them.

My own feeling is that it's a mistake to interpret the word "wargames" too narrowly. What people forget, living as we do in a post-D&D world, is that there was no such thing as a "roleplaying game" in 1974. Or rather, "roleplaying" was something actors and psychologists did; it wasn't a form of entertainment as we think of it today. Indeed, I don't recall the words "roleplaying game" appearing anywhere in the entire OD&D corpus. Consequently, it means little that Gygax and Arneson did not dub their new game a RPG.

But why call it a "wargame" if it's not focused primarily on combat? As I said, it's a mistake to interpret "wargame" too narrowly. Certainly nowadays the term refers almost exclusively to military simulations, but was that the case in 1974? If you look at the hobby culture out of which D&D arose, you'll immediately notice the import part played by Dave Wesley's Braunstein games in expanding the definition of "wargame" to include non-military endeavors. Of course, this expansion had already occurred earlier in games like Diplomacy, which, while involving military matters to some degree, was not exclusively focused on them.

My point is simply that one shouldn't make too much of the fact that OD&D calls itself a "wargame," because, at the time of its publication, "wargame" was a very broad term that encompassed a lot of different games, including several that had proto-roleplaying elements. Imagine if, at some future date, someone invented a new entertainment medium that transmitted images directly into one's brain. Imagine further that, despite the novelty of this medium, people call entertainments that use it "movies" or (better yet) "films." This medium is not at all like a motion picture technologically, but it functions analogously to the way movies do, except that there's no projector and no screen involved. This is why OD&D was initially dubbed a wargame -- it was most like that category of games then called wargames, even if it was in fact something quite different.

In short, D&D isn't and never was a wargame in the sense we understand the term now. It was, however, an outgrowth of the wargaming hobby, a hobby that was a lot more expansive and varied than people today might think. This is why I think it's vital that we study the history of not just our hobby, but of its "big brother" as well. Without such study, you're in the same position of people who try to interpret Shakespeare while employing 21st century definitions for his vocabulary -- you're going to misinterpret a great deal.

Pantheon, Part II

Here's an incomplete list of the gods I'm thinking of using in my setting, along with their real world inspirations (if any):

• Anesidora: Goddess of grain, fertility, marriage, and law. Based on Demeter.
• Asana: Goddess of strategy, heroism, and science. Based on Athena.
• Caint: God of medicine, poetry, and music. Based on Dian Cecht.
• Donn: God of the dead. Slightly reworked Celtic god.
  
• Mavors: God of warfare, blood lust, and slaughter. Based on Ares.
• Ptah: God of travelers, craftsmen, and invention. Slightly reworked Egyptian god.
  
• Sutek: God of darkness, serpents, and storms. Based on Set.
  
• Turms "Thrice-Great": God of writing, magic, and diplomacy. Based on a combination of Thoth and Hermes.
  
• Tyche "Lady Luck": Goddess of fortune, prosperity, and destiny. Slightly reworked Greek goddess.

Obviously, there are still a lot of gaps in the pantheon and even the gods I have chosen will probably be tweaked in various ways. My general rule is that I want the gods to have diverse tutelary interests, because this makes the gods much more interesting. Likewise, I want some of these interests to overlap, in order to provide excuses for rivalries between gods and their mortal followers. I'm also ditching the notion of racial deities. Instead, some races may only worship a subset of the overall pantheon, but that's as far as I'll go. I simply don't like the idea of "elf gods" or "orc gods" or whatever.

More later.