Forgotten Bard

Had he indulged in the necromantic practices of some of his most memorable characters, Clark Ashton Smith would today be 118 years of age. Instead, this year will also mark the 50th anniversary of his death and, unlike his fellow Weird Tales writers, Robert E. Howard and H.P. Lovecraft, Smith's star has not much risen outside the small circles that have always lauded him and his unique imagination.

As someone whose first taste of Smith occurred long ago (after refereeing Tom Moldvay's Castle Amber in the early 80s, as I recall), I sometimes forget how poorly known CAS actually is. Indeed, until the last few years, I was convinced that Smith had been listed in Gygax's Appendix N and was thus an important influence on one of the co-creators of Dungeons & Dragons. As it turns out, Gygax hadn't read Smith until after he'd created D&D and I've never seen any evidence put forward that Dave Arneson was a devotee either. Outside of the aforementioned Castle Amber, there aren't many Smithian allusions in the game's canon. (Supposedly, Rob Kuntz's Maure Castle contains such allusions, but, if so, it's not in evidence in Mordenkainen's Fantastic Adventure, at least not to me anyway).

This is, of course, a well-worn topic on this blog, something I in fact mentioned on this very day last year. I think it bears repeating, though, because, while it's true that Smith's works provide much less "furniture" to import into D&D's ever-growing treasure house than, say, Lovecraft or Tolkien, he nevertheless has a lot to offer the roleplayer. In particular, CAS reminds us of the power of words to transport us to other places and times and to induce in us feelings and moods. Smith began his literary career as a poet, which is why so many of his stories are better understood as prose poems rather than as narratives in the traditional sense. That's not say that Smith's stories are devoid of plot, but plot is often secondary to the evocation of emotion in the reader through the use of exotic language. Critics of Smith's approach deem his vocabulary unnecessarily ornate and they would be correct if one were to indulge in a steady diet of such language. But, as a "palate cleanser," such language is both useful and inspirational.

Much discussion is had in roleplaying circles about the meaning and purpose of "story" in the context of our shared hobby. Such discussions certainly have value, but, in my experience anyway, it's not "story" that most roleplaying games lack in practice as it is feeling. Too often, neither the players nor the referee has their senses (both internal and external) engaged, which is understandable, because it's hard to do. Clark Ashton Smith did it, though; his best stories really do transport you to weird, otherworldly realms and fill your eyes and ears and other senses with strange feelings, sometimes good, sometimes bad, but always interesting. I can think of worse models for how to add this extra layer to gaming than Smith. I'm not suggesting that one adopt his luxuriant diction and fondness for archaism -- though there's no harm in doing so! -- in order to add some depth to your gaming sessions, but I am suggesting that reading a few of his best stories, such as "The Empire of the Necromancers" or "The Charnel God" will pay great dividends for your fantasy roleplaying campaigns.

So here's to Clark Ashton Smith on the anniversary of his birth. May his memory and his work continue to inspire all who seek out the exotic and the weird.

The Druids of Dwimmermount, Part II

Please ignore the anachronistic watch

This is the version of the druid class I came up with for use in my Dwimmermount campaign. It was intended primarily for NPCs. I'm not sure I'd ever allow a druid PC except under very special circumstances.

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

Prime Requisite: WIS
Alignment: Neutral (Balance)
Hit Dice: 1d6
Maximum Level: 13

Druids are a secretive sub-class of cleric, but their allegiance is not to a god but to Nature itself. As a consequence, they do not abide by human moral concepts, adopting instead a philosophy dedicating to protecting the balance of all things. That balance just as often requires acts that non-druids view as evil as those they view as good. This, combined with the fact that druids view Lawful civilization as an impediment to their plans, makes them objects of much fear and distrust.

Unlike clerics, druids eschew the use of metal armor or shields, preferring instead leather or wooden armor and shields. They may use most weapons, except crossbows and bows. Druids use the same experience point tables as clerics, as well as sharing their attack, spell, and saving throw progression, though they have a different selection of spells available to them (see Part III). Druids receive a +2 bonus to saving throws against all elemental-based attacks. They may use all magical items available to clerics, except spell scrolls or armor forbidden to them. Druids have no power over the undead.

The distrust of druids is further fueled by the fact that the druidic hierarchy consists almost entirely of apostate clerics, who have abandoned their former beliefs to embrace the Old Ways the druids espouse. A cleric of no higher than 7th level who renounces his original faith and adopts a Neutral (Balance) alignment may become a druid, with his clerical levels converting to druid levels, as described above. In addition, converted clerics gain certain additional abilities depending on the level at which they apostasized (these abilities are cumulative):

Former Clerical Level	Bonus Abilities
1-2	+1 to hit against Lawful or Chaotic opponents
3-4	Retention of one otherwise forbidden clerical spell per point of Wisdom bonus
5-6	+1 damage per die against Lawful or Chaotic opponents
7	A minor (4 HD) elemental as a permanent companion. If slain, it cannot be replaced for one year.

Druidic philosophy accepts the survival of the fittest as a moral principle, which is why druids advance within their ranks through combat. At any given time, there can be no more than four Master Druids, two Archdruids, and one High Druid. A character who attains sufficient experience points to reach one of these levels must defeat one of the existing druids at this rank in battle before he can advance in level. The loser of such a competition drops in experience points to the level below the one he was seeking. Rematches are possible once sufficient experience points are later acquired, but many such contests are to the death, which discourages all but the most powerful and confident druids from seeking the highest ranks within their hierarchy. There are rumors of esoteric druid levels beyond High Druid. If they exist, few can attest to their existence and powers.

Druids have their own secret language, used in their rites and to identify themselves to other members of their cult. They also have the following abilities based on their level:

2nd level: The ability to identify animals and plants, as well as the ability to discern whether water or food is pure, safe, or poisoned. At this level, gain the ability to pass through thick vegetation with neither a penalty to movement nor any evidence of their passing.

6th level: The ability to assume animal shapes, three times per day. Any normal animal may be chosen, from as small as a bat or rat to as large as approximately twice human size, such as a bear. A specific animal shape may be taken only one time per day, for unlimited duration. However, while in the form of an animal the druid has all the physical properties of that animal, while retaining his normal mental state. Transitioning from one form to another allows the druid to heal 1d6x10% of any damage that has been sustained to the previous form. In addition, druids become immune to charm and charm-like effects from sylvan and elemental beings.

Toronto Old School Mini-Con

Although nothing definitive has been established it, judging from the response to my suggestion and the number of people who offered to help, it looks increasingly likely that something of this sort will happen. I'm still sorting through all the emails sent to me (as usual, my apologies for the slowness in replying), so it may be a week or more before I have even the faintest idea of when and where such an event might take place, let alone its schedule of events.

All I can say now, based on the few people with whom I have talked, is that there's a high degree of interest in a gathering of this sort, which makes me very happy. I really look forward to the possibility of running Dwimmermount for some new people (and maybe that beggars-only adventure in Nadsokor for Stormbringer) and, of course, getting to meet some fellow old school fans in the area and surrounds.

When I know more, I'll post it here. For the moment, I can only say that wheels are turning.

Retrospective: Ogre

Initially released in 1977 as the first of Metagaming's micro-games, Ogre followed its creator, Steve Jackson, when he founded his own game company in the early 80s. The cover to the left is therefore not the original one but that of the 1982 SJG edition, which first introduced me to this fun, fast little wargame of high-tech armored warfare. The game takes place in the late 21st century when super-states such as the North American Combine and the Pan-European Federation vie for world supremacy through the use of gigantic, artificially intelligent tanks nicknamed "ogres" and powerful enough to take on many other "ordinary" units and emerge victorious.

Ogre is a fairly simple game in principle, with short, straightforward rules. Its simplicity is deceiving, though, and clever players will find plenty of opportunities to demonstrate their tactical creativity. In most battles, one side is composed of a single ogre -- they really are that powerful -- and the other side is composed of a mix of conventional vehicles, artillery, and troops, each of which has strengths and weaknesses compared to other units. The player with multiple units has, in my experience anyway, the more difficult job, as he has to determine the right mix to take down the ogre. And there's no perfect mix of units, since a number of factors, some specific to individual scenarios and others specific to individual players, alter the complexion of the game. The result is a game that has a lot of replay value, especially if you have a good pool of players to square off against.

Like Car Wars, Ogre was a favorite of my friends and myself. A single game can be played in a short period of time (around 30 minutes or so, though some scenarios could last longer), which made it perfect for those times when we were waiting for someone to arrive before one of our RPG sessions. It was fun to watch too and everyone had their own opinions regarding the "best" tactics to use. I think that's what made the game so much fun: there was no sure-fire way to win, but that didn't stop everyone I've ever known declaring that they'd figured out the "secret" to Ogre. For example, I know several gamers who claim that there's no way the ogre player can win, while several others claim just the opposite. I'm no great tactician myself, so I can't say with certainty whose claims are right and whose are wrong. I can only say that Ogre is one of those rare games that really is different every time you play it, depending on the scenario and the person against whom you play.

I still have a copy of the game somewhere, along with a couple of its supplements. Though I liked the supplements at the time, I found, like a lot of supplements to games, that they had the tendency to undermine certain aspects of the original game's elegance. That's why, if I were ever to play Ogre again, I'd play it using only the initial pocket box and forget the supplements. The original game remains a classic in my opinion and it's well worth playing, if you ever get the chance to do so. There are rumors of a new edition in the works at Steve Jackson Games and I hope that's true. Assuming it's not produced as a ridiculously overpriced "deluxe" edition, I know I'll be grabbing a copy.

Totally, Completely, and Utterly Idle Thought

I am what some have jokingly called "an extrovert trapped in an introvert's body." Around strangers, I am incredibly shy and retiring, often painfully so. Consequently, I've never been a big conventioneer, though I have attended both Origins and GenCon in the past, as well as smaller local conventions. But I also think conventions are a good thing, perhaps even a vital thing, if we want to ensure that RPGs are actually played rather than just talked about (you're sensing a theme lately, aren't you?).

Recently I was reading about an upcoming old school "mini-con," which is to say, a gathering of a couple dozen individuals who'll spend a weekend playing RPGs together. Something like that strikes me as a really great idea. I suspect I'd enjoy a smaller gathering of likeminded gamers much more than I would a big one filled with hundreds or thousands of people. So, naturally, my mind started thinking about the possibility of a Toronto-area old school mini-con and then I realized that, as poor of a conventioneer as I am, I am an even poorer planner of such gatherings. That's too bad, because I'd enjoy the chance to run some levels of Dwimmermount for new people somewhere other than my dining room or, better yet, get a chance to play an old school RPG instead of referee one.

Anyway, I am most emphatically not advocating that anyone try and put together a Toronto mini-con. More importantly, I'm not stating any intention of my putting one together. However, if someone with better organizational skills than I decided they did want to do this, I'd lend a hand as best I could. I'd certainly attend and offer my services as a referee of some games (OD&D/Labyrinth Lord for sure and maybe some Stormbringer or Traveller). I know there are some old school gamers in the area or not far away; I've just never had the chance to meet many of them. This would be a good way to get to do so.

Not that I am advocating anything. Really.

Otherworld Miniatures News

Richard Scott of Otherworld Miniatures asked me to post the following:

Last year I launched a Voucher Purchase Scheme to raise funds for my move to new business premises. This was very successful in that it provided me with the capital needed for a costly expansion, and it allowed the buyers to grab a bit of a bargain too.

I have plans for further development of Otherworld Miniatures in 2011, so I have decided to relaunch the scheme.

So, until the end of January 2011, I will again be making 3 different vouchers available to customers of Otherworld Miniatures.

1) The Bronze Voucher will cost £50.00, and will be redeemable for £65.00 of Otherworld Miniatures.

2) The Silver Voucher will cost £100.00, and will be redeemable for £140.00 of Otherworld Miniatures.

3) The Gold Voucher will cost £200.00, and will be redeemable for £300.00 of Otherworld Miniatures.

As last year, each voucher buyer will receive a free limited edition master casting of one of the figures to be produced in the summer of 2011. A vote will be held on the Otherworld Miniatures Forum to decide what this will be. In addition, all voucher holders will be entered into a draw to win lots of Otherworld swag!

Vouchers will be valid until 31st December 2011, and may be spent in small potions, or as large purchases. Alternatively, a voucher may be used as a standing order to pay for all subsequent new releases until the voucher is used up.

To spend a voucher, or part of it, the holder will need to place an order by email, rather than using the usual webstore checkout system.

Vouchers may be purchased until 31st January 2011. Vouchers are limited to a maximum of 2 per person, and may not be used in conjunction with other special offers or sales. In addition to the details above, if you still have some credit from a 2010 voucher, I will extend the expiry date to the end of 2011 if you buy a new voucher.

Cheers,

Richard Scott
Otherworld Miniatures
http://www.otherworld.me.uk

The Druids of Dwimmermount (Part I)

From The Strategic Review, Volume 2, No. 1 (February 1976)

I've had very mixed feelings about the druid class for a long time, in part because, in all my years of playing Dungeons & Dragons, I've only ever refereed a single long-running druid PC (and he started out as a magic-user who, through a badly-worded wish -- "I wish I could cast druid spells. -- became a druid). The other part of it is that I've never been happy with their popular portrayal among gamers as beneficent environmentalists. Perhaps I simply enjoyed De Bello Gallico too much in high school, I don't know, but, for whatever reason, I've always viewed the druids as somewhat sinister, a view that much later received some support from OD&D's Supplement I, where druids are a type of human "monster" served by barbarian followers. And then there's the alignment chart above, in which druids, while still Neutral tend toward Evil (and Lawful Evil to boot).

The take on druids I've adopted in the Dwimmermount campaign ties into the alignment system I've adopted, where I make a distinction between Neutral and Neutral (Balance), with druids being associated with the latter. And then there's the oft-forgotten note in later printings of the LBBs, which stipulates that "Clerics of 7th level and greater are either 'Law' or 'Chaos'." I've been intrigued by this obscure comment since I first came across it several years ago and, as I pondered it, I thought it an interesting if the order of druids was composed of former clerics, who apostatized from their original faiths and joined this Nature cult. Consequently, druids use the same XP and spell charts as clerics, although their spell selection, armor and weapon restrictions, and other abilities are somewhat different.

Clerics can become druids at any level, but the higher the level of the cleric who joins their order, the more power he gains from doing so (as explained in Part II). For this reason, clerics view druids with extreme distrust and often hatred, seeing them both as apostates and as competitors. Druids are thus unwelcome in

The friendly face of Nature

many civilized realms; they generally live and exert their influence in the wilds and among barbarian peoples. Lawful folk consider their philosophy of Balance inhuman, especially since it often involves the sacrifice of human beings to appease elemental powers.

Below is a listing of the thirteen druid level titles. I'll post more specific details on the class in Parts II and III, which I'll put up tomorrow and Thursday of this week. I worked these details up several months ago when it looked like the druids and their place in the world would become an important part of the campaign. That never happened, but who knows what the future holds? When and if the druids do appear, it's possible that I'll alter my initial ideas as better ones come to me through play. For the moment, though, I thought people might enjoy seeing what I'd originally imagined.

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

Level	Druid Title
1	Ovate
2	Initiate of the First Degree
3	Initiate of the Second Degree
4	Initiate of the Third Degree
5	Initiate of the Fourth Degree
6	Initiate of the Fifth Degree
7	Initiate of the Sixth Degree
8	Initiate of the Seventh Degree
9	Initiate of the Eighth Degree
10	Initiate of the Ninth Degree
11	Master Druid
12	Archdruid
13	High Druid

A Reminder

It's not just the history of the hobby that so many of us forget, it's even more recent history, such as The Joeskythedungeonbrawler Protocol, put forward only six months ago:

IF YOU MAKE A POST BLOG THAT IS ONLY A ARGUMETN AND WHEN I READ ITIT MAKES A BLAHBLAH BLAH SOUND, YOU HAVE TO GIVE ME SOMETHING FREE AT THE END: NEW COOL RULE, OR A MONSTER(S), OR SOME SPELLS, OR MAGIC ITEMS OR REGULAR ITEMS THAT ARE DIFFERENT, OR EVEN BETTER A MAP - AND IT CAN’T BE A LINK JUST TO SOMEP LACE ELSE IN YOU’RE BLOG, IT HAS TO BE NEW AND COOL.

IF YOU DON’T TO DO THAT YOU AUTIMATICALLY LOSE THE ARGUMENT AND THE OTHER GUY IS DECLARED A WINNER, WHICH MEANS YOU JUST WRITED 5000 WORD SFOR NOTHING!!!!1

Much as I love the Protocol, I'd like to suggest an addendum -- the "something free at the end" has to derive from your current RPG campaign. I say this because I honestly think there'd be a lot less contentiousness on the blogs and forums if more people were actually playing the games they're passionate about (whatever they are) rather than just talking about them in the abstract. I know this blog was a lot more ranty in the first year of its existence than it has been over the last two and I attribute that to the fact that, prior to 2009, I wasn't actually playing OD&D; I just talking about playing it. I can understand that, sometimes, circumstances simply prevent our being able to play as often as we'd like (or at all), but, ultimately, this hobby is about playing games, not merely talking about doing so. We need more playing and we need more talking informed through regular play.

So, to that end, I offer you the following as per my suggested addendum. The text in the quote box below is hereby designated Open Game Content via the Open Game License.

Tome of the Iron God: This large, metal-bound volume contains the rites and scriptures of the enigmatic deity known only as the Iron God. The Tome depicts the Iron God as a traveler from another world who came (or was sent -- the text is unclear on the matter) to do battle with demons and the undead. Consequently, the Tome's rites revere the Iron God as a psychopomp and eternal foe of those who disturb the eternal rest of the dead. Anyone who carefully reads the book in its entirety (a process that takes 1 week) and successfully rolls his Wisdom or less on 1D20 gain a permanent +1 bonus to attacks and saving throws against demons and the undead. However, this benefit is lost and may never again may be regained if the reader ever uses or has used upon them the spell raise dead, which is abhorrent to the Iron God's religion. In addition, clerics who successfully read the Tome gain access to the following spell:

Peaceful Repose
Level: 2
Duration: Permanent
Range: Touch

By casting this spell, a cleric prevents the body of a creature from ever rising as one of the undead, whether as a result of having been slain by an undead being or being reanimated through magic or other processes. A body protected by this spell may be raised from the dead, in accordance with the usual limitations on raise dead, but if the cleric who cast peaceful repose knowingly allows or does nothing to prevent such a magical resurrection, he immediately loses access to this spell and may never again relearn it (or, at the referee's discretion, might be able to do so if he undergoes an appropriate penance in the eyes of the Iron God).

Pulp Fantasy Library: The Ice-Demon

Two of the traits for which Clark Ashton Smith's weird tales are most well-known are their black humor and luxuriant language. Both are nearly absent from his April 1933 story, "The Ice-Demon." Set in prehistoric Hyperborea, "The Ice-Demon" concerns Quanga the huntsman and his two companions, Hoom Feethos and Eibur Tsanth, are they "crossed the borders of a region into which men went but seldom -- and wherefrom they returned even more rarely." The frigid region north of the city of Iqqua was their goal but the object of their quest was, as is so often the case in tales such as this, wealth beyond imagining.

Their object was nothing less than the retrieval of the rubies of King Haalor, who, with the wizard Ommum-Vog and many full-caparisoned soldiers, had gone out five decades before to make war upon the polar ice. From this fantastic expedition, neither Haalor nor Ommum-Vog had come back; and the sorry, ragged remnant of their men-at-arms, returning to Iqqua, after two moons, had told a dire tale.

One must remember that the civilization of Hyperborea is dying, its cities and settlements slowly being swallowed up by "the great glacier of Polarion" and it was this glacier against which King Haalor and his wizard battled vainly. After their failure, acquiescence to the inevitable became the rule in Hyperborea.

But the kings that ruled in Iqqua after Haalor went not forth to do battle with the ice; and no wizard rose to make war upon it with conjured suns. Men fled before the everadvancing glaciations; and strange legends were told of how people had been overtaken or cut off in lonely valleys by sudden, diabolic shiftings of the ice, as if it had stretched out a living hand. And legends there were, of awful crevasses that yawned abruptly and closed like monstrous mouths upon them that dared the frozen waste; of winds like the breath of boreal demons, that blasted men's flesh with instant, utter cold and turned them into statues hard as granite.

Rather than fighting their fate, future generations of Hyperboreans plunged themselves into debaucheries and foolish quests for wealth. The latter is the purpose of Quanga and his companions, who are willing to brave the cursed, frozen north in order to obtain the rubies of Haalor, whose location the huntsman believed he knew thanks to his older brother, Iluac, who'd previously found their resting place before fleeing the place out of "a curious eery fear" that suddenly overtook him. But he told Quanga of what he had seen and, because "his was a heart that lusted after gain," vowed that he would not be frightened off as his brother had been.

After some weeks of travel, Quanga, Feethos, and Tsanth enter the area of the glacier where Iluac said the rubies could be found.

The scene before them was like some frozen world of the outer void. Vast, unbroken, save for a few scattered mounds and ridges, the plain extended to the white horizon and its armored peaks. Nothing seemed to live or move on the awful, glistening vistas, whose nearer levels were swept clean of snow. The sun appeared to grow pale and chill, and to recede behind the adventurers; and a wind blew upon them from the ice, like a breath from abysses beyond the pole. Apart from the boreal desolation and drearness, however, there was nothing to dismay Quanga or his companions. None of them was superstitious, and they deemed that the old tales were idle myths, were no more than fear-born delusions. Quanga smiled commiseratively at the thought of his brother Iluac, who had been so oddly frightened and had fancied such extraordinary things after the finding of Haalor. It was a singular weakness in Iluac, the rash and almost foolhardy hunter who had feared neither man nor beast. As to the trapping of Haalor and Ommum-Vog and their army in the glacier, it was plain that they had allowed themselves to be overtaken by the winter storms; and the few survivors, mentally unhinged by their hardships, had told a wild story. Ice — even though it had conquered half of a continent — was merely ice, and its workings conformed invariably to certain natural laws. Iluac had said that the ice-sheet was a great demon, cruel, greedy, and loth to give up that which it had taken. But such beliefs were crude and primitive superstitions, not to be entertained by enlightened minds of the Pieistocene age.

I noted earlier that "The Ice-Demon" that black humor was "nearly absent" in this story, but, as you can see from this passage, it's still present, albeit in muted form. Smith's wry reference to the "enlightened minds of the Pleistocene age" packs as much punch now as it did in 1933, probably even moreso.

This being a CAS tale, it's more or less a given that the protagonists will come to a bad end, but I won't say any more here about what happens to Quanga and his greedy compatriots when they eventually discover the last resting place of King Haalor, the wizard Ommum-Vog, and the treasure of jewels reputed to lie with them in their icy tomb, as that would ruin an enjoyable story. I'll say only that "The Ice-Demon" is a Smith story for those who find the author's rich prose a distraction. This is a very straightforward tale, both in terms of its plot and its presentation. Yet, it's still clearly a Smithian product. Doom hangs over the story nearly from the start and, though its meditations upon man's capacity for self-destruction even in the face of greater calamity are more muted, they are nevertheless present and effective. Consequently, if CAS doesn't normally speak to you, "The Ice-Demon" might offer a good opportunity to give him a second look. It's not, in my opinion, one of Smith's strongest stories, but it's still an interesting story well-told that conforms more closely to the conventions of "standard" pulp fantasies than do his other tales.

D&D is a Great Big Mess

When I say that "Dungeons & Dragons was a great big, gloriously incoherent mess," as I did the other day, here's my primary point: D&D isn't really about anything, except perhaps fantasy adventures, with "fantasy" being defined so broadly as to include, literally, anything that isn't possible in the real world and "adventure" being defined almost as broadly. D&D doesn't devote much time to telling you what it's about. Its rulebooks are never self-conscious enough to devote any pages to the game's "themes," for example, and its explicit literary allusions consist primarily of bibliographies of inspirational books rather than anything more concrete. Consequently, the question of what D&D is about falls to each player and each referee to answer, with there being no single answer that is "right" or "wrong," even if some answers might be closer to what Gygax or Arneson might have had in mind.

This isn't to deny that Dungeons & Dragons includes lots of "markers" that stake out its territory. Its selection of character classes and races and the presence of magic and monsters all imply a world largely derived from Western ancient and medieval legend, supplemented with more recent fantasies deriving from the same. At the same time, few of the game's markers are so well-defined as to exclude the importation of ideas and concepts from other sources, thereby making it easy, say, to drop robots or dimension-hopping travelers into your campaign without undermining its essential "D&D-ness." Indeed, I'd argue that this kitchen sink approach is one of the most vital parts of what makes D&D the game it is.

Secondarily, my point is that the rules of Dungeons & Dragons weren't created according to some a priori plan. Rather, they grew organically through play to meet very specific demands. D&D is thus a Frankenstein's monster and, while many may be repulsed by the stitching and bolts that hold this patchwork creature together, I continue to marvel at the fact that it came to life in the first place. Of course, because the game's rules have this quality to them, they readily admit to the bolting on of yet more rules without much worry that doing so will somehow undermine its designers' "vision." I'd be hard pressed to believe that either Dave or Gary had much of a vision for their game beyond creating and sharing something that they found enjoyable to play.

The RPGs I enjoy most are those that are, to varying degrees, great big messes. I like rough edges in my games, things that rub me the wrong way and thereby encourage me to engage the game actively rather than passively. A terrific side effect of a game's being messy is that such games rarely tell you what you should do with them. That's probably why, of late, I've been so engrossed in games like Space Opera, another great big mess of a game that, even while it's providing stats for nearly every weapon conceived by man from the dawn of history to the far future, never once stops to tell you what to do with all these rules systems and sub-systems it so generously provides. I like that. Heck, I love that and wouldn't mind a few more games in this vein.