Thursday, November 6, 2008

Carcosa Corrections

Part 3 of my review of Carcosa will be posted later today. In the meantime, I'd like to offer a couple of corrections that Geoffrey McKinney sent to me. They're corrections of fact and I readily concede my errors. I'm posting them in the interests of providing interested readers with as much accurate information about the book as I can provide.

What follows are McKinney's words, not my own.

1. You wrote: "most Carcosan monsters have psionics"

Out of the 48 monsters detailed in the book, 15 of them possess psionics. Since only 1 in 100 of the random Spawn of Shub-Niggurath have psionics, I did not count them amongst the 15.

2. Regarding the monsters in CARCOSA you wrote: "most of them drawn from the writings of H.P. Lovecraft, along with a handful of others unique to this book."

Here is a break-down of the origins of the monsters in Carcosa:

Lovecraft (total of 11):
Cthulhu
Azathoth
Nyarlathotep
Yog-Sothoth
spawn of Yog-Sothoth
Primordial Ones
Shoggoths
Mi-Go
Great Race
Deep Ones
Unquiet Worms (kind of)

Derleth (total of 5):
Hastur
I'thaqua
Cthugah
Cthugah's flame creatures
B'yakhee

Clark Ashton Smith (total of 3):
Shub-Niggurath (Abhoth)
spawn of Shub-Niggurath (spawn of Abhoth)
Fetor of the Depths (Tsathoggua)

Robert E. Howard:
Snake-Men (extinct on Carcosa)

Gary Gygax:
Slime God (Juiblex)

F. W. Holiday's theory of the Loch Ness Monster:
Lake Monsters

My own (total of 27):
Lurker amidst the Obsidian Ruins
Deep Gibbering Madness
Putrescent Stench
It of the Fallen Pylons
Crawling God
Leprous Dweller Below
Shambler of the Endless Night
Inky Crawler
Lurker of the Putrescent Pits
Weird God
Violet Mist
God of the Primal Void
Tentacled One
Foul Putrescence
Suckered Abomination
Colorless Ooze
Watery Death
Desiccating Slime of the Silent Halls
Squamous Worm of the Pit
Amphibious Ones
Diseased Guardians
Green Ooze Pool
Mummies
Mummy Brains
Giant Jungle Ants
Space Aliens
Species 23750

Wednesday, November 5, 2008

Brief Update

Part 3 of my review of Carcosa will appear tomorrow as planned, but there's a good chance, owing to a variety of reasons, that it won't be posted early in the day but rather much later. My apologies for the delay.

Retrospective: White Dwarf

Perhaps the best gift I received for my recent birthday was from my friend Kevin -- he seems to have a lot of good ideas, doesn't he? -- who gave me something I didn't even know existed: White Dwarf Back Issues 1977-1987, a DVD-ROM of PDFs of issues 1-90 of the famed British gaming magazine. The product was produced by an Australian company under license from Games Workshop, but, like the Dragon Magazine Archive before it, ran into legal troubles of some sort or other (possibly regarding electronic rights, though I've heard other explanations) and was eventually pulled from sale. You can still get copies through eBay and other online sellers and that's presumably how Kevin snagged a copy for me, for which I am very grateful.

White Dwarf and I have a strange relationship. I knew of the existence of the magazine quite early in my gaming career, having seen Gary Gygax's mention of it in the AD&D Dungeon Masters Guide. Likewise, some of the older guys I hung around with the early days, including my friend Mike's metalhead brother, owned copies of various issues and sometimes used variants or adventures from its pages. For the longest time, I in fact associated WD with metal, a feeling I never quite shook even after I actually started to read the thing for myself. I suspect it had something to do with the style of artwork favored in the magazine, as well as the somewhat more "shocking" content it often featured.

The first issue of WD I ever actually owned was issue 32 from August 1982, which I bought while on vacation somewhere in the southern US, possibly North or South Carolina. It was that magazine that I suspect forever cemented my opinion of both WD and the UK game scene generally: weird but often quite cool. What I liked about the magazine was that it included a goodly dose of D&D, Traveller, and Call of Cthulhu each month, the three RPGs I love most in the world. There was also a strangely high amount of RuneQuest material as well, something that baffled me, given how rarely I ever encountered anyone in the US who played the game. It was years before I realized that it was a huge hit across the Pond, rivalling (and perhaps surpassing) D&D in popularity.

I subscribed to White Dwarf for a period of two years from 1983-1985. It was at that point that Games Workshop started making an effort to infiltrate North America and there was a GW distribution center in Maryland. GW offered a variety of subscription deals that made the magazine very attractive in terms of cost, so I figured I should give it a try. Prior to that point, I'd only ever bought an issue here or an issue there or read old copies from the collections of people I knew. I also subscribed to Dragon at the same time and I know that, comparing the two, I always found WD to be much more uneven in quality than Dragon: its low points were very low but its high points were very often superior to those of its American counterpart.

My lasting impression of White Dwarf, based on the issues I read as a younger man, is that it remained a much more vibrant, amateurish periodical far longer than did Dragon -- and that's a good thing. I'm not one of those people who worships at the altar of WD, because the simple reality is that a lot of its content, indeed most of it, was pretty mediocre. At the same time, it's mediocre in a very genuine way, being the product of fans who simply loved certain games and then decided to submit their crazy ideas to share with the wider community. It's hard to fault a magazine for providing an outlet for that, particularly when some of those crazy ideas simply blew my mind and forever influenced the way I play various games to this day. It makes what WD eventually became -- a house organ for a soulless proto-WotC -- all the more tragic.

I think the hobby could use another White Dwarf right about now. Of course, I think it could probably use a Dragon as well, so what do I know?

REVIEW: Carcosa (Part 2 of 4)

In this part of my review of Carcosa, I'm going to discuss what might be called the book's "non-controversial content." Approximately 20 of Carcosa's 96 pages pertain to the new sorcerer character class, its game mechanics, rituals, and a few random related bits of text found elsewhere in the book. I shall specifically look at that content in Part 3 tomorrow. This leaves the remaining three-quarters of the book as the subject of the present post.

I'd like to begin by commenting on the physical qualities of
Carcosa. The book is identical in size and general appearance to the volumes of OD&D and its supplements -- clearly no accident, given that it bills itself as "Supplement V" (about which I shall comment in Part 4). Geoffrey McKinney obviously went to some effort to imitate the look of OD&D, right down to the typefaces and the color of the cardstock used for the cover. The imitation isn't quite perfect, however, and I hope I can be forgiven in later using this "almost-but-not-quite" quality of Carcosa as a broad metaphor with which to critique the work as a whole.

As already noted,
Carcosa is 96 pages in length, making it about a third again as long as the lengthiest OD&D supplements. What I find interesting about this is that, despite its advertisement as "Supplement V," Carcosa takes a very different tack than all of its predecessors. Instead of being a rules supplement -- though it does present many new rules -- about one-third of its text is devoted to a description of a campaign setting. In this respect, it differs quite significantly from both Greyhawk and Blackmoor, neither of which give the reader much information about the campaign settings from whom they derive their titles. Carcosa even includes a hand-drawn map -- "Carcosa Campaign Map One" -- in the centerfold of the book. It details an area covering 160 by 218 miles and includes a wide variety of terrain types and landmarks, all of which are described in the last 25 or so pages of the book.

Carcosa's imitation of OD&D isn't limited to its physical qualities. The internal organization of the book follows that of OD&D's supplements. Thus, there are three sections -- "Men & Sorcery," "Monsters & Treasures," and "Adventures in the Underworld and Wilderness" -- that correspond roughly to the three volumes of OD&D. I personally find this degree of imitation infelicitous, both because the original OD&D supplements are not exactly models of clarity and because there are so many other places where Carcosa doesn't imitate its predecessors that it gives the entire book the textual equivalent of the "uncanny valley" phenomenon. I'll speak more about this in Part 4.

The first section notes that there are only two character classes in the world of Carcosa, fighting-men and sorcerers, the latter of which I won't discuss now. Fighting-men are presumably identical in their game mechanics to those in OD&D, although this is not stated explicitly. The planet Carcosa is also home to thirteen races of Men, each one possessing a different skin color. These colors range from black to yellow, with three new colors -- two primary and one additive -- unique to Carcosa. These additional colors are derived from David Lindsay's 1920 novel, A Voyage to Arcturus, a novel that was an important influence on C.S. Lewis in the creation of his own Space Trilogy. Unlike the poem by Robert W. Chambers that begins this book, I'm not entirely sure what to make of this reference to Lindsay, who was, by all accounts, an unusual thinker who had Gnostic sympathies. There isn't much evidence of outright Gnosticism in
Carcosa, but I do think it reveals its author as someone who is well versed in the "weird tale," that predecessor of horror and fantasy from which so much in our hobby sprang.

Alignment in
Carcosa is very much in line with Jeff's Threefold Apocalyptic Alignment System. That is, alignment answers the question "whose side are you on?" rather than more specific moral/ethical matters, since the book notes that "all behaviors, including the most noble and altruistic as well as the most vile and despicable, are found amongst all three alignments." Thus, where one stands in relation to the Lovecraftian Great Old Ones -- who epitomize Chaos -- determines one's alignment, not whether one is a good person or not. This approach has deep roots in the h0bby and I am sympathetic to it in some ways. That said, by removing any hint of moral/ethical considerations from alignment, I believe McKinney squandered an opportunity to deflect at least some of the criticism directed toward him and Carcosa.

Carcosa presents a psionics system that is far simpler and also far less extensive than that of Eldritch Wizardry. High ability scores in Intelligence, Wisdom, and Charisma each grant a cumulative percentile chance to a character to possess psionics. If a character does indeed possess psionics, he gains access to 1d4 psionic powers each day, the type determined by the referee and not necessarily consistent from day to day. How often a character can use a given power is determined by his level. Psionic powers range from telepathy to mental blasts to mind control -- eight powers in all, most of them similar to existing magic spells in use. I'm very ambivalent about these psionic rules. While they are indeed simple, their centrality to the setting -- most Carcosan monsters have psionics -- means that players will quickly feel the need for their characters to possess them, which will necessitate higher and higher ability scores, which isn't a very OD&D approach. In addition, there's too much randomness involved, even for me, so much so that I think using the rules as written might prove tedious.

Unfortunately, tedious randomness seems to appeal to McKinney, who introduces a number of new dice conventions into
Carcosa, such as variable damage and hit dice. That is, whenever the rules call for rolling dice, a table is consulted to determine which sort of dice is rolled. That means that sometimes your weapon will deal 1d8 points of damage per hit and sometimes 1d12 (or 1d4). Likewise, your character's hit points will fluctuate wildly for every combat, with a new total being rolled using whatever dice type is indicated by a separate roll. Granted, these rules apply equally to NPCs and monsters as to PCs, but I can't quite see the point. Although McKinney goes to some length to explain that this approach "allows for greater uncertainty in the game," what I fear it does is fetishize the importance of randomness in old school gaming to the point of parody -- "Greetings! It's a" *rolls dice* "pleasure to meet you!"

The second section begins with descriptions of the monsters of Carcosa. Most of the usual D&D monsters don't exist in this setting. Replacing them are a wide variety of beings, most of them drawn from the writings of H.P. Lovecraft, along with a handful of others unique to this book. This section is one of the strongest in the entire work. Not only does it give the reader a new context for familiar Lovecraftian entities, which goes some way toward restoring them to their original place as objects of horror and revulsion, but it also does a superb job of illustrating that a singular, well-conceived monster is a far more powerful a concept than an entire race of them. Thus, we get descriptions of beings like the Lurker of the Putrescent Pits and the Desiccating Slime of the Silent Halls rather than hordes of orcs, bugbears, or even traditional D&D demons. In this way, Carcosa is very much in line with pulp fantasy traditions, which rarely presented entire monstrous species but instead relied on unique abominations to challenge their protagonists.

Also described are numerous "sorcerous items," which completely replace the magic items of OD&D. Among these items are numerous types of lotus flowers, each if which has an effect after ingesting or inhailing powder made from their blossoms. Carcosa also freely mixes science fiction with fantasy and makes no apologies for doing so. Consequently, there are numerous pieces of "Space Alien technology," items used by the mysterious race of Gray-like beings called simply the Space Aliens. The effects of some such technology is determined by random rolls (see a pattern?), although there are examples that have definite and consistent effects. Perhaps unsurprisingly, there is also a random table for generating Space Alien robots and basic rules for re-programming them. Rounding out this section is a collection of items created and used by Lovecraftian beings like the Great Race and the Primordial Ones. These items largely do not rely on random tables to determine their effects and are better for it, instead being unpredictable and possibly deadly without being purely whimsical. For my money, they come across as far more interesting and usable than things like the Space Alien tech.

The third and final section of the book consists of two unevenly sized sub-sections. The first is a percentile table of mutations that characters or creatures might gain as a result of being exposed to the weird radiation of Carcosa. These mutations are almost wholly deleterious in nature. The second sub-section is a hex-by-hex gazetteer of the map included in the book's centerfold. Each and every one of the 400 10-mile hexes included on the map gets at least a short entry -- "12 mosasaurs with transparent skin" or "Village of 310 Green Men rules by 'the Jade Emperor,' a neutral Myrmidon" -- and many include much lengthier ones. It's here, I think, that Carcosa really shines, because what McKinney has done is present to us a dark and mysterious alien world, fraught with danger and damnation -- and all through a series of succinct, spartan entries that leave plenty to the imagination of the individual referee.

Even more remarkable, to my mind, is that Carcosa doesn't feel quite like any of its obvious inspirations; instead, it is very much its own world, even if it does recall Clark Ashton Smith's Zothique and Hyperborea, Lovecraft's Dreamlands, Howard's Hyborian Age, and even the Silver Age comics of Jack Kirby (among others). To call it a pastiche doesn't quite do it justice, but to say that it is wholly original would also be inappropriate. If I had to single out a virtue of this book it's this: the ability to call to mind a myriad of pulp fantasy influences without aping any one of them in particular. That makes Carcosa seem at once familiar and original -- quite the feat after so many years of gaming supplements having been published!

What is unfortunate, though, is that this same approach wasn't applied as consistently to the presentation and content of the other two sections of the book, which frequently suffer from being much too imitative and derivative of OD&D and its supplements but without the soul that animated those creations. That is, Carcosa knows all the words to the old school songs, but it can't carry the tunes. That's not intended to be a dismissal of the book, but I do think it's important to realize that, even without the contentious questions I'll take up in Part 3 tomorrow, Carcosa is a flawed, problematic work. It's a bold but uneven book and I suspect that has probably benefitted unduly from its notoreity. By that I mean that, had controversy not swirled around Carcosa since before it was even published -- not that I was aware of this, parochial eremite that I am -- I doubt it would have been lauded as highly as it has been. I rather suspect that at least some of its boosters do so out of a sense that they're standing up for some important principle or other.

I won't address the question until Part 4, but I'll say now that I don't think Carcosa is a well-executed enough product to be worthy either of comparisons to the original OD&D supplements or of denunciation as if it were one of the most despicable RPG products ever written. It is, I think, a book bubbling with the naive enthusiasm of a college freshman reading Plato for the first time and believing he now has deep insights into life, the universe, and everything. There is merit in that enthusiasm, not least of all a reminder of things we jaded older men might have forgotten in the years since we were naively enthusiastic about something. But there is also ignorance and foolishness and I don't think it's improper to dwell on these flaws, particularly in light of how it has been received in many quarters.

Tuesday, November 4, 2008

Wenching and Thieving

My friend Kevin sent me a link to a PDF document that describes the Hyborian Age as a setting for the Savage Worlds RPG. Written by Steve Rennick, the document is quite well done, particularly a series of random tables about "the adventuring life," which is to say, activities that Hyborian Age characters might engage in. Below I've cribbed the tables for wenching and thieving. They're statted up, such as they are, for Savage Worlds, but I think they'd be easily adapted to a lot of games, not least of all being pulp fantasy-inspired D&D.

Enjoy!

Wenching

Typically done in the larger towns and cities of Hyboria, Wild Cards prowl the taverns, inns and other local houses of ill-repute in search of merriment. For each day spent Wenching, roll 1d6 to determine the type of luna frittered (1-3=bronze; 4-5=silver; 6=gold), then roll 1d4 to determine the number of luna spent. If that should exceed the number of luna the WC has, 1d6 city guard/town militia show up to throw him/her into debtor’s prison. Each day the party spends Wenching, draw a card. If it’s a face card, roll 3d10 and consult the following table:

3d10 what
3 You are accused of thievery, but are innocent.

4 You are accused of thievery, and you are guilty

5 You kill someone.

6 Someone tries to kill you.

7 Nothing of consequence happens.

8 The locals take a liking to you (+1 Charisma, stackable, for the rest of your stay).

9 The locals take a disliking to you (-1 Charisma for the rest of your stay).

10 You seduce a local nobleman’s offspring.

11 You get seduced by a local nobleman’s offspring.

12 Find a treasure map (real).

13 Find a treasure map (fake).

14 You tick off a local merchant.

15 Local merchant takes a liking to you.

16 You hear of a plot to overthrow the local ruler.

17 You start a bar brawl.

18 You finish a bar brawl.

19 You tick off a local nobleman.

20 A local nobleman takes a liking to you.

21 Domestic animals seem to like you. 1d4x2 start following you around. Only some body with the Beastmaster Edge can make them stop.

22 You tick off a local priest.

23 A local priest takes a liking to you.

24 Local children (d6x2) start dogging your every step. Only by doing something really scary can you make them stop (make them fail a d6 Guts check).

25 Nothing of consequence happens.

26 You tick off a sorcerer.

27 A sorcerer takes a liking to you.

28 A squad of city guards/militiamen burst down the door of the drinking establishment you’re currently in; they’re there to arrest a complete stranger, who, as they grab him, shouts out and points at you, saying “It was he that supplied the poison I used!” The spearmen close in on you…

29 You feel evil eyes upon you (FALSE).

30 You feel evil eyes upon you (TRUE).

Thieving
If done in a civilized area, we’re talking classic rogues-in-the-night, knife-in-the-back, rope-and grapnel-over-the-garden-wall skullduggery. If out in the countryside, it’s banditry at it’s most primeval. Roll on the following tables:

URBAN
d20 what
1 A rich merchant is walking the streets of the rough side of town unescorted (TRUE)

2 A rich merchant is walking the streets of the rough side of town unescorted (FALSE – it’s a trap laid by the local thieves’ guild)

3 You hear of a tower in which a fabulous gem is kept. In the gardens at its base prowl creatures of nightmare. And it’s home to a sorcerer, to boot.

4 A note is pinned to the door of you+r room at the inn. Scrawled on it in blood is the following: Meet me tonight at the fountain to discuss an endeavour that will be mutually beneficial. (TRUE).

5 A note is pinned to the door of your room at the inn. Scrawled on it is the following: Meet me tonight at the fountain to discuss an endeavour that will be mutually beneficial. (FALSE – it’s an ambush)

6 A gem-studded statue is on public display at a local museum. It belongs to the wife of a local noble. It’s a fake (detectable by someone with Knowledge (Jewellery)).

7 A golden idol belonging to a fat merchant has gone missing; he offers a sizable reward for its safe return (TRUE)

8 A golden idol belonging to a fat merchant has gone missing; he offers a sizable reward for its safe return (FALSE – he had it stolen himself, and will plant it on the Wild Cards at his earliest opportunity, before calling in the city guards)

9 Oops! While relieving him or herself, a noble drops a gemstone the size of a small child’s fist down a latrine. To collect the sizable reward all you have to dois take a trip to the sewers…

10 The local lord’s crown has been stolen! The reward for its return is 100 gold
lunas! (It’s actually worth much more than that…)

11 A shipment of black lotus is arriving tonight (TRUE).

12 A shipment of black lotus is arriving tonight (FALSE).

13 A nobleman’s representative approaches you in a shady tavern asking that you rescue his daughter from kidnappers (TRUE)

14 A nobleman’s representative approaches you in a shady tavern asking that you rescue his daughter from kidnappers (FALSE – it’s a trap; when the Wild Cards find her, they discover her already dead, and the city guard waiting)

15 What started as a simple mugging goes sideways! After knocking your mark senseless, and relieving he or she of 1d4 silver lunas, the local thieves guild shows up (d6), and they’re not happy!

16 You hear a rumour, a fat merchant has left the side gate to his compound open this evening, to allow entry to his favourite courtesan (TRUE – the compound itself though is heavily guarded, and there are many traps).

17 You hear a rumour, a fat merchant has left the side gate to his compound open this evening, to allow entry to his favourite courtesan (FALSE – it’s a trap to catch the greedy; heavily-armed guards lay in ambush).

18 The priests at the local temple are away on a great pilgrimage, leaving only a few old men and boys between you and untold riches (TRUE)

19 The priests at the local temple are away on a great pilgrimage, leaving only a few old men and boys between you and untold riches (FALSE)

20 Kidnap the daughter of a rich merchant for the local thieves’ guild, earning 50 gold lunas (or keep her and collect the 500 luna ransom yourself)

RURAL
d20 what
1 d4 Farmers on their way to market, driving their oxen afore them. Their carts are piled high with the fruit of their labours. The farmers will have 1d12 bronze luna amongst them. But they may (50% chance each) have their wives or children (25% chance each; 1d4 kids, 50% chance male or female) with them. Their wares, be it melons or wheat, are worth 1d4 gold lunas per farmer on the black market. Their children or wives? Who would dare traffic in such wares?

2 A rich nobleman (d6)
1 Alone
2-6 With guards

3 Wealthy land-owner (d6)
1 Alone
2-6 With guards

4 Encampment (d6)
1-2 Soldiers
3-5 Merchants
6 Bandits
(if merchants – d6)
1d4 Merchant(s)
1-2 Alone
3-6 With Guards

5 1d20 Soldiers (if more than 10, there will be one officer)

6 1d12 Elite Soldiers (e.g. in Aquilonia, the King’s personal guard, the Black Dragons)

7 1d4 harmless women (each carrying 1d6 bronze lunas, wearing 1d4 worth of cheap jewelry)

8 1d4 “harmless” women (actually she-wolf bandits who will make the players pay dearly)

9 An old man wandering aimlessly down a dusty track (TRUE)

10 An old man wandering aimlessly down a dusty track (FALSE – he’s actually a powerful sorcerer just waiting for a mark)

11 Farm (sneak in, steal some stuff…try not to kill anyone)

12 Estate (d6) SEE FARM
1-4 Wealthy landowner
5-6 Nobility
Roll a further d6 to determine if the owner is home; 1-5 home, 6 not home

13 d4 Priest(s) (d6)
1-2 Alone
3-6 With acolytes, etc.
(30% chance they’re transporting a precious relic worth 1d100 gold lunas)

14 A quaint country inn…a quiet game of cards. Use the Gambling Rules, except cheating isn’t optional (the Wild Cards have to cheat).

15 You intercept a shipment of black lotus (TRUE – go ahead, try to move it)

16 You intercept a shipment of black lotus (FALSE – it’s not the real stuff, and, once you make the delivery, the s__t hits the fan ☺)

17 A rural temple; who knows what riches lay within?

18 The tower of a reclusive sorcerer

19 You decide to spend the day at a crossroads trying to make a few luna as a mountebank. Your game of choice? 3 shells and a pea. Use the Gambling rules in the SW rulebook (as per 14, cheating isn’t optional).

20 A tax collector with d4 guards spends the night in a rustic inn at a scenic crossroads. Relieve him of the chest filled with d100 gold lunas he’s transporting.

REVIEW: Carcosa (Part 1 of 4)

Although I am occasionally long-winded, I have never before written a multi-part review. But then I have never before reviewed a product that's elicited reactions as strong as those directed toward Geoffrey McKinney's Carcosa. Calling itself a "book of rules options for the original fantasy role-playing game published in 1974," Carcosa is a staple-bound 96-page book modeled on the little brown books of OD&D. McKinney even boldly calls the book "Supplement V," a move that's aroused almost as much comment as its content.

In this first part, I won't be speaking about the content of Carcosa except obliquely. Instead, I'm going to make a few things clear, both about the subsequent parts of this review and the reasons why I am writing it. Let me tackle the second part first: why am I writing this? First and foremost I am writing this review because, like its content or not, Carcosa is a major product of the old school renaissance. Nothing quite like it, either in subject matter or scope, has yet been attempted; that alone makes it worthy of my attention. Secondly, the controversy surrounding the book's content is also worthy of comment. I've said many times that the old school community is small, niche-y, and rather staid. When something comes along that stirs up the pot, for good or for ill, I don't think it ought to pass without discussion. Finally, I think it'd be irresponsible of me to duck reviewing Carcosa. The fact is that I rarely refrain from weighing in on topics of interest to the old school community, but I largely did in this case. Rather than risk offending someone, I abstained from saying much of anything. I regret that decision and am now stepping up to do what I ought to have done several weeks ago.

The remaining three parts of this review will each touch upon a different aspect of Carcosa in some depth. Part 2 (appearing November 5, 2008) will examine the non-controversial portions of the book and evaluate them in the context of OD&D and the larger old school renaissance. Part 3 (appearing November 6, 2008) will discuss sorcerous rituals, the section of Carcosa that's at the heart of the controversy surrounding it. Part 4 (appearing November 7, 2008) will be my conclusions about the book, the controversy it generated, and what it all means for the old school community. I've chosen to take my time in reviewing Carcosa, because, from what I have witnessed, it's a book that practically invites caricature, both by those who love it and those who hate it. I don't think I'm spoiling anything by saying that I believe Carcosa to be flawed book, chief among its flaws being its presentation, which, in my opinion, goes too far in imitating the form of its illustrious predecessors without also imitating the ethos that informed them. In the interests of evenhandedness, however, I want to be sure there are no misunderstandings about what Carcosa is and is not, as well as what it contains and does not contain.

As to its content, my review will be of the expurgated version. I have read both versions of Carcosa and I will occasionally make broad references to how the two versions differ. However, I will not go into any detail, since I wish to make this review as palatable to as many readers as possible. As I have already noted, discussions regarding Carcosa are already quite heated as it is and I have no interest in contributing to the acrimony. My goal here is to be as dispassionate as possible, while at the same time being as critical as possible. Whatever else it is, Carcosa is firstly a roleplaying game supplement and my review will proceed from that assumption, even if I will often make digressions into other areas. My feeling, though, is that neither praise nor condemnation of Carcosa is reasonable without first carefully examining its actual contents and I intend to do just that in the next two parts of this review.

A word of warning: I know that many people have expressed strong negative feelings about Carcosa, its author, or both on other blogs and other forums. Again, I don't believe I am giving anything away by saying that I too have expressed strong misgivings about the unexpurgated version of the book. That said, I believe that one can express one's dislike of something without descending into irrational vituperation. Consequently, I will not tolerate such behavior in my comments. Feel free to express your considered opinions of anything I've written in my review, but please do so in an intelligent, respectful manner. Anything less than that and I will delete your comments. I see no justification for ungentlemanly behavior here, regardless of what one thinks of the book. If one is unable to comport oneself appropriately, then I ask that one refrain from reading these entries or commenting on them. Thanks in advance.

Update: I didn't want to have to do this, but it's already pretty clear to me that allowing comments at all was a mistake. I've already had to delete several comments that didn't abide by my instructions and I anticipate that there will be more before too long. It's a pity and a shame, because I had hoped this extensive review would be an occasion for discussion, but such is not to be. Henceforth, neither this entry nor parts 2-4 will allow comments. I may consider reopening comments on these posts at a future date, but that won't be for some time. Comments will remain open on other entries. If anyone decides to use other entries as an opportunity to comment on anything relating to Carcosa when it is clearly not relevant in my opinion, I will delete your comments and, very likely, any future comments you make on any other post for a very long time. I am intensely disappointed at how quickly things took a turn for the worse here and I will not tolerate it further.

You have been warned.

Monday, November 3, 2008

Where I'm Going with All This

I'm done teasing; time to reveal all.

One of the constant themes of this blog is the curse of "brandification," the eventual reduction of any and every creative endeavor to a mere commodity that can be marketed and sold, typically without much regard for either the origins or purpose of the endeavor in the first place. I've railed about this in several contexts -- Lovecraft, Barsoom, Flash Gordon -- but it's with regards to Dungeons & Dragons that I've focused most of my ire.

The Gygax quotes I posted, the first from February 1979 and the second from November 1985, pretty clearly illustrate a shift in the thinking of one of the game's creators over the course of nearly seven years. The first quote is from the Golden Age of TSR, when "the hobby" had still not fully given way to "the industry." That's not say or to imply that TSR wasn't trying to maximize its profits in every way it could do so; the publication of the Moldvay Basic Rules less than a year after the first quote is evidence that that's clearly not the case. Neither am I suggesting that, at some point, the real, kindly Gary Gygax was replaced by a corporate mandroid who wanted nothing less than total domination of the hobby games market.

The past can't be changed and neither can the present direction of the game the current rights holders have somewhat implausibly dubbed Dungeons & Dragons. I can whine and moan about these things all I want, but what's done is done, regardless of my feelings about it. Consequently, I think those of us involved in the old school renaissance have an opportunity here not so much to rewrite history as to provide an "alternate history," one in which the hobby never gave way to the industry.

We're fortunate in many ways that we're a small, niche-y community; there's simply not a lot of money to be made through the creation of new old school products and there never will be. Barring some utterly unpredictable turn of events, the old school renaissance simply won't have much impact beyond those of us who are already involved in it. History has spoken and the Old Ways lost; there is no going back. I say this is fortunate, because it means that we're highly unlikely ever to be offered the same temptations as was TSR toward the end of the Golden Age. The Cursed Chateau is never going to sell millions of copies, for example, and, chances are, no other new old school product will either. Indeed, we'll be lucky to sell hundreds of copies in most cases.

But that's OK. I wasn't drawn back to the old school by promises of wealth and fame. What drew me here was the core philosophy behind it, what Matt Finch wonderfully sums up in the phrase "imagine the hell out of it." That's what it's all about for me and I'm pretty certain that's what it's all about for most of us who play Swords & Wizardry, write for Fight On!, or construct our own little brown books. This isn't "nostalgia," unless by "nostalgia" one means a preference for the way things were done in the past. I think most of us are keenly aware that even the Golden Age wasn't perfect or that not everything that's come out since 1983 has been utterly worthless (speaking as someone who made a living writing for a large number of games published post-1983).

It's a mistake, though, to simply discount the old school renaissance as just a bunch of grumpy middle-aged guys complaining about "kids today." There's some of that -- heck, sometimes a lot of that -- but it's not grumpiness for its own sake; it's an emotional reaction to the knowledge that this small community is it. We are the keepers of the flame, because we have to be. No one else is going to do it. There is simply no "market" for most of these products and no companies really interested in the Old Ways except those we've founded ourselves. If we want to keep the fire burning, we have to stoke it and understand -- really understand -- that, to most gamers, we're at best quaint curiosities and at worst cantankerous evolutionary foot-draggers.

I say none of this to be depressing. Truth be told, I find the embrace of the cold, hard facts of the matter to be liberating. There is absolutely nothing wrong with being hobbyists who produce niche products that appeal only to other hobbyists, if doing so satisfies your desire to create and share what you create. That's what roleplaying was in the beginning; that's what it was for a goodly number of years after its invention. Just because it changed in various ways since doesn't mean we should acquiesce to those changes or, worse yet, despair about them.

"Imagine the hell out of it" just isn't a catchphrase; it's why the old school community can survive and prosper despite being beneath the notice of the industry. To that I say, "Good!" Play. Imagine. Create. Share. That's what this is all about. Never forget that. Never lose sight of that. The rest simply doesn't matter.

Pulp Fantasy Gallery: Hiero's Journey

Hiero's Journey by Sterling Lanier was published in 1973 and is unique for having been an influence not just on Dungeons & Dragons but also on Gamma World. The novel chronicles the adventures of the eponymous Hiero Desteen, telepathic priest and "killman" of a futuristic descendant of the Catholic Church, as he searches for lost technology to use against the Dark Brotherhood, would-be conquerors of the postapocalyptic world they all inhabit. The connection to Gamma World is obvious to anyone who ever played the game, but I suspect the D&D connection is less clear and perhaps understandably so. Nonetheless, I continue to hold to the opinion that pulp fantasy frequently possesses strong postapocalyptic overtones, with the action taking place in the aftermath of the collapse of some mythical Golden Age. Exploring and looting "dungeons" certainly makes more sense in this context, as does the lawlessness of the implied D&D setting. It's yet another reason why I find high/epic fantasy a poor fit for the game.

I was very fond of Hiero's Journey as a kid. What's not to like about a psychic warrior-priest with a mutant moose and bear as companions? There was sequel to the book -- The Unforsaken Hiero -- which ended on a cliffhanger, as I recall. There was never a third book in the series, which may be just as well. Third books (or movies) are frequently the weakest offerings in a series and I'm glad my fondness for these characters isn't sullied by knowing the conclusion didn't live up to my expectations.

Sunday, November 2, 2008

Feast of All Souls



Animabus, quaesumus, Domine, famulorum famularumque tuarum oratio proficiat supplicantium: ut eas et a peccatis omnibus exuas, et tuae redemptionis facias esse participes: Qui vivas et regnas.

Saturday, November 1, 2008

Four D&D Products That Never Were

With the recent announcement that Gygax Games has terminated Troll Lord Games' license to continue the Castle Zagyg project, I was reminded of several other D&D products that were promised in the past but never came to past.

1. Castle Greyhawk: Unsurprisingly, the top spot on the list goes to Castle Greyhawk, which Gary had been promising to publish since shortly after the publication of the World of Greyhawk folio gazetteer in 1980. In the years since, there have been at least products that called themselves "Castle Greyhawk." None involved Gygax in any way and one (Castle Greyhawk in 1988) was in fact a humorless parody that many took as a deliberate attempt by TSR to belittle and insult him, who had recently been ousted from the company. Castle Zagyg is the closest we ever got to a "true" Castle Greyhawk product and, as of this time, its future is very much in doubt.

2. City of Greyhawk: Gary also promised the publication of a product detailing the City of Greyhawk, which never materialized. A boxed set detailing the city was published in 1989, but Gygax was not involved and its content is a very mixed bag in my opinion.

3. Shadowland: Another long-promised product was an adventure/sourcebook detailing the Plane of Shadow. A collaboration between Gygax and Skip Williams -- or at least it was supposed to be at one point -- the product would have given us some detailed information about this mysterious otherworld, one that Gary was very fond of and that owes its origins, at least in part, to one or more stories of Abraham Merritt, an author whom Gygax consistently claimed was an influence over the development of D&D.

4. D&D Companion:
Had the Moldvay/Cook rules been completed, there would have been a third volume entitled the D&D Companion that would have fleshed out characters up to level 36. While the third volume of the Mentzer rules set was called the Companion Set, it covered only levels 15-25 and, by all accounts, was a wholly original creation that owed nothing to the plan for the follow-up to Moldvay/Cook (if indeed there were such a plan at all). Much as I sometimes talk smack about Moldvay/Cook, I find those rules much more appealing than Mentzer's, which, while praiseworthy in many, many ways, are even more mass market consumer products than their predecessors. Even more significantly, I don't think much of the Master/Immortal endgame of Mentzer and would much rather have seen a Moldvay/Cook-style one, which would have almost certainly been more in line with my tastes than the superpowered conclusion to the mid-80s boxed sets.