This is the second part of my interview with roleplaying pioneer Len Lakofka. In this part, Mr Lakofka answers questions about his writings in both Dragon and for the World of Greyhawk setting. Thanks once again to Allan Grohe for providing some of these questions.
The third and final part of the interview will appear tomorrow.
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6. You've been immortalized in D&D as Leomund, after whom several spells are named. Was Leomund your original D&D character?
Yes, I played Leomund for a few years in Chicago. I've published his stats a few times.
7. You once had a long-running series of columns in Dragon entitled "Leomund's Tiny Hut," many of whose articles were highly regarded and much loved. How did that column start and what was its intended focus?
I think it was Tim Kask who approached me to write a regular column for The Dragon, but I'm not 100% certain it was he. In any case, I had already been published in The Dragon by this time, issue 1 and issue 3, which included “Notes on Women & Magic.” I wrote the majority of the "Leomund" spells and they were edited by Gary and appeared in AD&D. I did not create “Leomund's Endless Belaborment,” however. (They paid by the word, so of course I added some detail. Ahem)
8. It's interesting you mention “Notes on Women & Magic,” since it frequently gets mentioned in discussions of the early days of the hobby. Lots of gamers nowadays can't fathom why such an article was written or published, given how much things have changed since the 1970s. Can you provide a little background for the article?
There just wasn't any real mention of women as player characters. The vast majority of the players were males and none of then wanted a female character, especially when it came to the role play part of it. Since it was a vague area, I decided to give it some attention. No more complicated than that. I did have players who were willing to step up and play a female character. I believe that Dave Rogan playing the Magic-User Andrella. One of the Nystuls played her as well. There was a female druid and a cleric but no one tried either a thief or fighter.
9. The Lendore Isles of the World of Greyhawk are largely your handiwork. Were they originally part of a separate campaign world or did you create them specifically for Greyhawk? If the former, how much of your original material was incorporated into the Greyhawk setting?
I did have a campaign world and a section of land where the campaign occured. When Gary was drawing the Greyhawk map he offered to let me have a place on the map for my campaign. Since Loreltarma (not Lo Reltarma -- that was the cartographer's invention, one of the many things she decided to change without asking anyone) was on a peninsula of land, I saw this island in the south east that could conform to my ongoing campaign. (Darlene also moved the whole city from one the northeast corner of the island to the southwest. Needless to say that made my campaign maps worthless!) I picked the Island and named it Lendore Isle.
10. Did the Suel deities also arise out of your campaign?
Gary listed the Suel gods in the World of Greyhawk. I said that, from their migration, that many of the Suloise ended up on my Island. Therefore, the inhabitants of Lendore Isle would have a significant Suel background. When the Suel gods were not fleshed out, I took it upon myself to do it. I did not give them “standard diving powers” but Gary insisted that they have them. He usually read my stuff before it went into Dragon and occasionally made changes. That was his prerogative, of course.
11. I've long been very fond of module L1, The Secret of Bone Hill, since it presents a very flexible "sandbox" framework for a low-level campaign. Does this reflect the style of play of your home campaign or did you write the module in that way for some other purpose?
I had two sets of players do what is now L1; they played L2 and L3 as well. Then they split up and did other things on Lendore Isle. The whole east coast of the island was played by one group while another went north.
I did L1 because I was not seeing many basic towns fleshed out very much. L4 goes three small hamlets and L5 does a town of a few hundred folks, all of whom have stats, names, gods, professions, treasure and weapons (except some of the non adventuring types. I think I did do all of the men-at-arms.
L4 is about a new group that lands on Lendore Isle after the raid on Restenford. They land there as the humanoids leave and a band from the town are chasing them. They have another mission and head toward Kroten but do not arrive there until L5 starts.
L5 is about the town of Kroten which is in the center of the Island.
L4 promises to be in print. Someday. In theory it is in final layout. I'll not hold my breath.
12. You ran convention tournaments at GenCon and other cons over the years (including a version of L3 Deep Dwarven Delve in 1979 at GenCon 12); do others of those tourney scenarios survive, and if so do you have any plans to publish them as part of your Dragonsfoot series of modules?
I made each scenario up for each convention. I did not keep copies. Please don't cringe. I was not a hoarder of paper and, at the time, who knew anyone would give a *&^% 20 years or more later?
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Interview: Len Lakofka (Part I)
Len Lakfoka needs no introduction to long-time readers of Dragon, who will remember his recurring column from that venerable periodical, "Leomund's Tiny Hut." Indeed, Mr Lakfoka began writing articles for Dragon in its very first issue and continued to do so until after the magazine had reached over 100 issues. He is also the author of several AD&D modules, most notably The Secret of Bone Hill, a personal favorite of mine. Mr Lakofka kindly agreed to answer some questions about his involvement in the early days of the hobby and his many replies will appear here over the next three days.
Thanks to Allan Grohe, who supplied many of the Greyhawk-related questions that appear in later parts of this interview.
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1. How did you become involved in the hobby of roleplaying?
I started playing Avalon Hill Games and answered an ad for the International Federation of Wargamers. Gary Gygax was vice President of that group. So many of the PBM groups sounded like warmongers that I was not interested in them. Terry Stafford introduced me to Gary at Farmers Insurance where Gary was an underwriter. We had played Battle of the Bulge or some other AH game.
I was told that the IFW was having a convention in the near future in Lake Geneva, so I decided to go and to help. I helped a bit with set up and tear down. It was a one day event. On Sunday, however, we took some time before locking up the Horticultural Hall and played a handwritten sent of medieval miniatures rules. This set later became Chainmail. Gary was seeking a publisher.
Once he did publish it, he added the "fantasy supplement" which had some Tolkien references, like Hobbits, Ents, a Balrog etc. It became the tail the wagged the dog. The fantasy supplement became very popular. I traveled to Gary's home a number of times to play various games on the sand table in his basement.
It was the popularity of the fantasy supplement that led to Dungeons & Dragons. Gary and I also played PBM Diplomacy, which was very popular back then.
2. You were also involved in Diplomacy fandom and issues of your fanzine Liaisons Dangereuses recently caused some excitement in the old school gaming community because they included some hitherto unknown D&D articles under your byline with Gary Gygax. Can you provide a little historical context for these articles?
I wrote the articles and added E. Gary Gygax's name to preserve his copyright to D&D. He was in control of D&D and any material I published was not "official" unless Gary blessed it. He did not see the text prior to me publishing it in LD. Some of what I did to in LD ended in up The Dragon -- issue #1 actually.
3. So, none of the material in LD was actually the work of Gary Gygax?
Correct. Gary did not author anything in LD.
4. Given the large volume of material produced for LD, it'd be great to see it all reproduced in a single volume from high-quality scans. I understand that Tadashi Ehara is doing this with Different Worlds. Is this something you'd ever like to see happen?
LD was a fanzine which was not profread or spell checked. If it were retyped and those things done that would be awesome. I would not want it produced "as is". My grammar, spelling and proofreading skills bite! I don't want to reveal that to world.
5. The Pyrologist class appeared in two places, your own LD fanzine and in a Chicago-based one called The Wizard. Are they variants versions of the class or the same class appearing in two different places?
It should be same but without seeing the text I can't be sure.
The Wizard was from a local group in Chicago, the name of which I've lost.The president of that group had a connection to FASA if I remember right. I'd have to kick myself in the head a few times to remember. If I'm right, his father financed FASA to produce a large generation interplanetary space ship. You would have to look at the first things from FASA and that would jar my memory.
The Pyrologist was an attempt to do special Magic-users. There was an Illusionist already. We were looking at a Magic-user specializing in fire spells. We did not do anything with earth, water and air. We were considering combining those three under one heading.
Thanks to Allan Grohe, who supplied many of the Greyhawk-related questions that appear in later parts of this interview.
---
1. How did you become involved in the hobby of roleplaying?
I started playing Avalon Hill Games and answered an ad for the International Federation of Wargamers. Gary Gygax was vice President of that group. So many of the PBM groups sounded like warmongers that I was not interested in them. Terry Stafford introduced me to Gary at Farmers Insurance where Gary was an underwriter. We had played Battle of the Bulge or some other AH game.
I was told that the IFW was having a convention in the near future in Lake Geneva, so I decided to go and to help. I helped a bit with set up and tear down. It was a one day event. On Sunday, however, we took some time before locking up the Horticultural Hall and played a handwritten sent of medieval miniatures rules. This set later became Chainmail. Gary was seeking a publisher.
Once he did publish it, he added the "fantasy supplement" which had some Tolkien references, like Hobbits, Ents, a Balrog etc. It became the tail the wagged the dog. The fantasy supplement became very popular. I traveled to Gary's home a number of times to play various games on the sand table in his basement.
It was the popularity of the fantasy supplement that led to Dungeons & Dragons. Gary and I also played PBM Diplomacy, which was very popular back then.
2. You were also involved in Diplomacy fandom and issues of your fanzine Liaisons Dangereuses recently caused some excitement in the old school gaming community because they included some hitherto unknown D&D articles under your byline with Gary Gygax. Can you provide a little historical context for these articles?
I wrote the articles and added E. Gary Gygax's name to preserve his copyright to D&D. He was in control of D&D and any material I published was not "official" unless Gary blessed it. He did not see the text prior to me publishing it in LD. Some of what I did to in LD ended in up The Dragon -- issue #1 actually.
3. So, none of the material in LD was actually the work of Gary Gygax?
Correct. Gary did not author anything in LD.
4. Given the large volume of material produced for LD, it'd be great to see it all reproduced in a single volume from high-quality scans. I understand that Tadashi Ehara is doing this with Different Worlds. Is this something you'd ever like to see happen?
LD was a fanzine which was not profread or spell checked. If it were retyped and those things done that would be awesome. I would not want it produced "as is". My grammar, spelling and proofreading skills bite! I don't want to reveal that to world.
5. The Pyrologist class appeared in two places, your own LD fanzine and in a Chicago-based one called The Wizard. Are they variants versions of the class or the same class appearing in two different places?
It should be same but without seeing the text I can't be sure.
The Wizard was from a local group in Chicago, the name of which I've lost.The president of that group had a connection to FASA if I remember right. I'd have to kick myself in the head a few times to remember. If I'm right, his father financed FASA to produce a large generation interplanetary space ship. You would have to look at the first things from FASA and that would jar my memory.
The Pyrologist was an attempt to do special Magic-users. There was an Illusionist already. We were looking at a Magic-user specializing in fire spells. We did not do anything with earth, water and air. We were considering combining those three under one heading.
Blackmoor News
Over at Havard's Blackmoor Blog, there's an interesting post in which it's stated that the license Wizards of the Coast extended to Zeitgeist Games to produce Blackmoor-related RPG materials will likely not be renewed at the beginning of next year. A lot of old schoolers are surprised to learn that Dave didn't own the rights to his own creation, Blackmoor. Nearly all the proper names and concepts associated with the setting were owned first by TSR and then by its successor, WotC. I couldn't tell you precisely how this came about, since Supplement II contains barely any Blackmoor-specific IP and The First Fantasy Campaign, which does contain a lot of details about the setting, was published by Judges Guild. I can only presume that the late 80s "DA" series of modules are the basis for this arrangement, but, as I said, I don't know this for a fact.
Regardless of the why, Blackmoor was not owned by Arneson nor is it now owned by his heirs. New Blackmoor materials only appeared under a licensing arrangement and it appears as if that arrangement will soon be at an end. On the one hand, I'm not surprised. Licensing arrangements are rarely stable, particularly when dealing with big licensors. On the other hand, I have to wonder why WotC would even care all that much about Blackmoor. Nostalgia aside, it's not a particularly valuable property and I have a very hard time imagining an official D&D IV Blackmoor campaign setting. Bleeding heart that I am, I long felt it would have been a nice gesture to return Blackmoor to Dave or his estate, but I also knew that that wasn't very likely.
The funny thing is that, as I descend deeper into old school madness, I find myself less and less concerned about things like this. It's sad for Blackmoor's fans, of which I count myself one, but the reality is that I no longer care much about pre-packaged campaign settings, even my beloved Greyhawk. It takes comparatively little effort to create a campaign setting of one's own and it has many advantages over relying upon the work of others. Plus, it's not as if we'll ever again see Blackmoor material written by Dave Arneson or that reflects the actual play of the Twin Cities campaign. The same goes for Greyhawk. It's a shame, because I would have found such material interesting from a historical perspective, but the hobby will survive nonetheless, as will my own campaign, whose setting is one my players and I are creating together. From my perspective, that's where the heart of our hobby lies, not in the ideas of any single creator, no matter how remarkable he might have been.
Regardless of the why, Blackmoor was not owned by Arneson nor is it now owned by his heirs. New Blackmoor materials only appeared under a licensing arrangement and it appears as if that arrangement will soon be at an end. On the one hand, I'm not surprised. Licensing arrangements are rarely stable, particularly when dealing with big licensors. On the other hand, I have to wonder why WotC would even care all that much about Blackmoor. Nostalgia aside, it's not a particularly valuable property and I have a very hard time imagining an official D&D IV Blackmoor campaign setting. Bleeding heart that I am, I long felt it would have been a nice gesture to return Blackmoor to Dave or his estate, but I also knew that that wasn't very likely.
The funny thing is that, as I descend deeper into old school madness, I find myself less and less concerned about things like this. It's sad for Blackmoor's fans, of which I count myself one, but the reality is that I no longer care much about pre-packaged campaign settings, even my beloved Greyhawk. It takes comparatively little effort to create a campaign setting of one's own and it has many advantages over relying upon the work of others. Plus, it's not as if we'll ever again see Blackmoor material written by Dave Arneson or that reflects the actual play of the Twin Cities campaign. The same goes for Greyhawk. It's a shame, because I would have found such material interesting from a historical perspective, but the hobby will survive nonetheless, as will my own campaign, whose setting is one my players and I are creating together. From my perspective, that's where the heart of our hobby lies, not in the ideas of any single creator, no matter how remarkable he might have been.
Monday, November 16, 2009
Pulp Fantasy Library: The Lost Continent
Atlantis figures prominently in pulp fantasies, usually as a long-lost kingdom of great might and magic whose rule inaugurated a Golden Age for humanity. Characters such as Robert E. Howard's Kull and Henry Kuttner's Elak both call Atlantis home, but their stories appeared three decades or more after Charles Cutcliffe Hyne wrote The Lost Continent. The novel was originally serialized from July to December 1899 in the British periodical Pearson's Magazine, where H.G. Wells's The War of the Worlds had appeared two years previously. The serial was eventually collected under a single cover in 1900.The Lost Continent presents itself as a historical document recently uncovered, a framing device common in 19th century fantasies. The supposed document is the work of a warrior-priest named Deucalion, who acted as governor for Atlantis over its colony in the Yucatan peninsula. According to the book, Atlantis at its height ruled over parts of Central America and Egypt, in addition to its islands in the ocean that now bears its name. Unlike many Atlantean aristocrats, Deucalion is honest, just, and loyal. He's a throwback to an earlier time before decadence and corruption were the order of the day.
Needless to say, Deucalion's uprightness makes him many enemies, chief among them being Phorenice, a usurper who's claimed the title of empress and governs without respect for either the ancient traditions of Atlantis or concern for anything other than her self-aggrandizement. Phorenice recalls Deucalion from his post as governor, tortures his betrothed, Naia, and generally makes this upstanding man's life hell, forcing him, against his better judgment, to go rogue. He joins forces with rebels seeking to bring down the empress and restore Atlantis to its previous glory. Unfortunately, Deucalion and the rebels soon realize that toppling Phorenice is no easy task and only truly drastic measures are likely to succeed.
Knowing the myth of Atlantis, we all know how the story ends, but getting to that end is an enjoyable ride. It's filled with memorable -- if often formulaic -- characters, massive battles, magic, daring rescues, near-deaths, and, of course, world-changing cataclysms. The Lost Continent is definitely a work of the Victorian age, with that that implies. It's a bit "stiff" in places, but, from my perspective, that only adds to the book's charm, as Hyne's vivid imagination strains against the cultural norms of his own day.
Furthermore, the book's style lends a bit more plausibility to its framing device. You can more readily believe that this is a translation of an ancient text written by someone from another age, because, for us in the 21st century, it is -- not from some prehistoric time, true, but the fact remains that The Lost Continent is a product of a somewhat alien culture and that works in its favor. The book also benefits from having been written in the aftermath of works like Ignatius Donnelly's Atlantis: The Antediluvian World, which present "scientific" theories about the lost continent and its history.
Hyne's novel is thus filled with lots of little details about Atlantean society and culture that make terrific fodder for gamers or anyone interested in Victorian crackpottery about the ancient world. And, as I said, it's a fun read in its own right and worth the time, if you can find a copy. Fortunately, the book was reprinted at least three times in the 1970s, so there ought to be a surfeit of paperback editions available cheaply through the secondhand market.
Friday, November 13, 2009
REVIEW: Locales, Volume One
I've mentioned before that I'm terrible at drawing maps and even dislike the process of doing so much of the time. I am nevertheless a cartophile and often seek out well-done maps of imaginary places, like the Arduin map I reviewed last Spring. Mind you, my preferred types of maps are those that I can use in my gaming. If I can easily find ways to drop them into my campaign or rework them into an existing dungeon or locale, I'm usually very happy.The Fantasy Cartographic's Locales, Volume One is a good example of a well-done map product. This 46-page PDF (which sells for $3.00) describes nine different locations in varying detail, each with one or maps. Each location includes a physical overview, a brief referee's guide, and one or more "possibilities," which are other ways to use the site and associated maps. None of these locations can simply be used "as-is." Rather, the referee must use them as springboards for his own imagination, filling in details, providing game stats, and generally making them his own. They're thus intended as "raw materials," albeit fairly refined ones, from which the referee can construct his own adventuring sites. Speaking for myself, this is exactly what I want out of products like this: a solid foundation on which I can build.
A couple of highlights of Locales are:
- The Column Fortress at Deep Rushing: Consisting of eighteen different levels, this is probably the most impressive and evocative locale in the product. The fortress is carved from a gigantic column of rock within a mammoth cavern. The un-keyed maps, with their many winding stairs, are absolutely terrific, and I'm planning on swiping some of them for use in Dwimmermount.
- The Temple Tomb of Bgixilidynon: Unpronounceable name aside, this resting place for a demonic artifact has become warped and twisted, seemingly defying the lays of reality, as it warps around and through itself. Not as complex as a tesseract, the temple tomb is nonetheless a place where normal physical laws don't apply and mapping might prove mind-bending.
If I have a criticism of Locales, Volume One, it's the unevenness of the nine entries. While even the shortest and most straightforward locations are useful, they suffer greatly in comparison to their more inspired fellows. I would have preferred more locations of the caliber of, say, the Column Fortress, even if it meant fewer locations overall. I suspect that some might also find the overviews a bit sparse, but that's a criticism I don't share. I like the austerity of the presentation, as it's the maps that are most important to me, as they should be to anyone purchasing a product like this.
There does not appear to be a successor volume to this one and that's a shame. I'd love to see more products in this line and hope, if they should ever appear, that they provide more unusual and exotic locations. For guys like me who have trouble mapping even a simple dungeon, a collection of really bizarre location maps would be a godsend.
Presentation: 6 out of 10
Creativity: 7 out of 10
Utility: 6 out of 10
Buy This If: You just need some well-done maps and are prepared to fill in the details on your own.
Don't Buy This If: You're expecting fully fleshed out adventuring sites.
Dwimmermount, Session 21
Session 21 was somewhat shorter than other sessions, as both myself and one of my players were rather tired from the previous day's activities -- I attended my in-laws' 50th wedding anniversary party, for example. Nevertheless, much was accomplished in the short time we played. Chief among these was more fully mapping the underground complex beneath the old cabin. One of my players was inspired to try and produce better maps of the whole place and, to do that, his character made a point of exploring the place quite thoroughly. As he did so, he commented on how much he liked the design of the dungeon, both in terms of its layout and its contents. In particular, he noted the presence of sleeping quarters, a kitchen, and toilets, features he said were commonly missing from most dungeons, a comment I found slightly odd, since Dwimmermount includes them all as well. In any case, kudos to Jim Raggi on this; his dungeon design impressed one of my players.
Early in the night, the characters discovered a room filled with hard spiked vines and branches that blocked their entrance into the room. I emphasized the fact that the vines and branches looked quite brittle -- "coral-like" is how I described them -- the players weren't too keen to do it damage, as they couldn't make up their minds as to whether the weird plant was in itself a threat or a guardian against some other threat. They decided instead to leave well enough alone and return to the "chapel of evil" they visited earlier, since there was a door in that room they hadn't ventured beyond. This is one of the things I particularly like about my gaming group: they're methodical. They use their maps well and take note of likely locations for secret doors or hidden rooms and always try to fill out every corner of the map, if they can. In short, they're explorers, which, as I've noted before, is what I like most about dungeoneering.
The bronze door in the chapel the PCs hadn't opened wouldn't budge. There was no obvious lock mechanism, which led them to believe there must be some magical means of opening it. Examination revealed a basin nearby filled with some blackish liquid -- the PCs thought it might be azoth or a form of it -- as well as human teeth. Brother Candor surmised that a tooth would be necessary to put into the basin as an offering but neither he nor anyone else was willing to offer up their own teeth for the occasion. This led them to look for other teeth in the chapel to use instead. The chapel was festooned with bones, including hundreds of skulls, but the skulls were all jawless -- and toothless -- so they couldn't aid them in their cause. Dordagdonar then suggested they re-visit the crypts, find a mummified body within, and swipe one of its teeth for the occasion. Brother Candor was reluctant to do this, but acquiesced, as there was no other obvious means to proceed.
Those who haven't played Death Frost Doom should skip over this paragraph, as it includes a small spoiler about the adventure. As written, only a fresh tooth would open the bronze door. Getting an old one from a corpse would be insufficient. When Dordagdonar made his suggestion, I was initially prepared to have his plan fail, since the players had already correctly surmised they'd need to yank out one of their own teeth to open the door. But something inside me said to let it ride and have Dordagdonar's plan work. One reason was that the crypts, filled with a vast number of human remains, had been objects of curiosity but little more in the adventure so far. That is, the characters found it odd that there were so many mummified bodies here, but they'd done very little exploring of the crypts beyond map-making and hadn't spent much time thinking about the meaning of their presence. I figured that, by allowing Dordagdonar's plan to work, it might spark greater interest in the crypts -- and it did, as we'll see.
The door now open, the party were able to venture into other areas of the dungeon they'd never seen. Unfortunately, they didn't find much of immediate interest and their way forward soon ended in dead ends. They then knew that they'd have to return to the "coral room" and find some way to enter it, but, before they did that, they more thoroughly examined the crypts to see if there might be some other way to proceed. They found none but they did make a closer account of the burial chambers, estimating that they contained thousands of corpses. This led to some speculation as to why there were so many, how they might have gotten here, and whether or not the stories they'd been told by the folks at Smerdlap's Crossing (and by old Zeke) were true, or at least whether they were completely true. The complex beneath the cabin looked much to elaborate -- and old -- to have been the work of a small cult, as they'd believed, but they as yet don't know enough to make sense of it all yet.
Rather than continue onward, they decided to leave the dungeon and return to Zeke's place to rest and, in the case of Brother Canor, pray for find traps, a spell they think they will need as they forge ahead. This also gave them a chance to reconnect with Iriadessa, who'd stayed behind with Hap the groom, because she feared what might be up the hill near the elven vale. She was no less enthusiastic about venturing there once she learned what the party had seen, but she may have no choice, as her magical skills might prove useful.
And that's where we left it. Continued explorations will resume this weekend and I'm rather looking forward to how the players deal with the problems that lay before them, not to mention the problems they have yet to encounter.
Early in the night, the characters discovered a room filled with hard spiked vines and branches that blocked their entrance into the room. I emphasized the fact that the vines and branches looked quite brittle -- "coral-like" is how I described them -- the players weren't too keen to do it damage, as they couldn't make up their minds as to whether the weird plant was in itself a threat or a guardian against some other threat. They decided instead to leave well enough alone and return to the "chapel of evil" they visited earlier, since there was a door in that room they hadn't ventured beyond. This is one of the things I particularly like about my gaming group: they're methodical. They use their maps well and take note of likely locations for secret doors or hidden rooms and always try to fill out every corner of the map, if they can. In short, they're explorers, which, as I've noted before, is what I like most about dungeoneering.
The bronze door in the chapel the PCs hadn't opened wouldn't budge. There was no obvious lock mechanism, which led them to believe there must be some magical means of opening it. Examination revealed a basin nearby filled with some blackish liquid -- the PCs thought it might be azoth or a form of it -- as well as human teeth. Brother Candor surmised that a tooth would be necessary to put into the basin as an offering but neither he nor anyone else was willing to offer up their own teeth for the occasion. This led them to look for other teeth in the chapel to use instead. The chapel was festooned with bones, including hundreds of skulls, but the skulls were all jawless -- and toothless -- so they couldn't aid them in their cause. Dordagdonar then suggested they re-visit the crypts, find a mummified body within, and swipe one of its teeth for the occasion. Brother Candor was reluctant to do this, but acquiesced, as there was no other obvious means to proceed.
Those who haven't played Death Frost Doom should skip over this paragraph, as it includes a small spoiler about the adventure. As written, only a fresh tooth would open the bronze door. Getting an old one from a corpse would be insufficient. When Dordagdonar made his suggestion, I was initially prepared to have his plan fail, since the players had already correctly surmised they'd need to yank out one of their own teeth to open the door. But something inside me said to let it ride and have Dordagdonar's plan work. One reason was that the crypts, filled with a vast number of human remains, had been objects of curiosity but little more in the adventure so far. That is, the characters found it odd that there were so many mummified bodies here, but they'd done very little exploring of the crypts beyond map-making and hadn't spent much time thinking about the meaning of their presence. I figured that, by allowing Dordagdonar's plan to work, it might spark greater interest in the crypts -- and it did, as we'll see.
The door now open, the party were able to venture into other areas of the dungeon they'd never seen. Unfortunately, they didn't find much of immediate interest and their way forward soon ended in dead ends. They then knew that they'd have to return to the "coral room" and find some way to enter it, but, before they did that, they more thoroughly examined the crypts to see if there might be some other way to proceed. They found none but they did make a closer account of the burial chambers, estimating that they contained thousands of corpses. This led to some speculation as to why there were so many, how they might have gotten here, and whether or not the stories they'd been told by the folks at Smerdlap's Crossing (and by old Zeke) were true, or at least whether they were completely true. The complex beneath the cabin looked much to elaborate -- and old -- to have been the work of a small cult, as they'd believed, but they as yet don't know enough to make sense of it all yet.
Rather than continue onward, they decided to leave the dungeon and return to Zeke's place to rest and, in the case of Brother Canor, pray for find traps, a spell they think they will need as they forge ahead. This also gave them a chance to reconnect with Iriadessa, who'd stayed behind with Hap the groom, because she feared what might be up the hill near the elven vale. She was no less enthusiastic about venturing there once she learned what the party had seen, but she may have no choice, as her magical skills might prove useful.
And that's where we left it. Continued explorations will resume this weekend and I'm rather looking forward to how the players deal with the problems that lay before them, not to mention the problems they have yet to encounter.
Thursday, November 12, 2009
Resisting the Urge
When I began my Dwimmermount campaign nearly a year ago, I intended it to be an experiment of sorts, an attempt to experience for myself what it might have been like to play OD&D in the early days of the hobby. Of course, I couldn't truly recreate that experience for myself, as I entered the hobby post-LBBs and I brought to the game lots of assumptions and knowledge born out of the hobby as I experienced it. Moreover, as I know well, there's no single "early days of the hobby." Rather, there's a morass of such things, many of them complementary and compatible and some of them not. Thus, my experience would, at best, give me only a particular experience of those early days and not necessarily a particularly authentic one.
Still, I thought then -- and do now -- that it was a worthwhile endeavor in its own right. As someone who entered the hobby after those glory days and whose tastes now are more in tune with them, I wanted to give myself every opportunity to appreciate the unique virtues of those times in the only way I could. I'd say that, by and large, my Dwimmermount campaign has succeeded in its original purpose. After 21 sessions (I'll post a session summary of the most recent one soon), it shows no signs of stopping and everyone is enjoying themselves, which is the only real measure of a campaign's worth. In addition, I've learned quite a lot about what works and what doesn't, both within OD&D specifically and old school games generally. And I've acquired a number of new methods and approaches that I somehow never learned in my formative years as a referee.
The process of "unlearning" is sometimes a difficult one, particularly when it comes to world-building. I am an inveterate world-builder. I love to create new worlds and am always turning over ideas for such things in my head. It's a great blessing in many ways but it's also a curse, particularly when running a campaign, like Dwimmermount, where I'm philosophically committed to letting things evolve naturally and not according to some master plan beforehand. Consequently, the setting of the campaign is still quite limited and fuzzy beyond a certain point. Indeed, only Dwimmermount, Adamas, and Muntburg have much detail at all and while the players have heard of the existence of other places, like Yethlyreom, City of the Necromancers, or Thule, the ghost-haunted island whose ancient inhabitants forged an empire for the ages, they've never traveled there or learned much about them.
The result is a very focused campaign and I think that's part of the secret of its success. Dwimmermount is the centerpiece of the campaign and it's where the characters go, week after week, in their quest for adventure. This has also made it very easy for me to run, since I know precisely where the PCs are headed and I can prepare accordingly -- or not, as the case may be, since, depending on how far the PCs have gotten, a megadungeon-oriented campaign may not require the creation of new material on a weekly basis, previously created material not having been exhausted yet. It's a very different way of playing, to be sure, but it's been quite satisfying and it's helped me clarify quite a few things in my own mind as a result.
But old habits die hard and there's a part of me that finds it difficult to restrain myself and not flesh out the world beyond Dwimmermount more than is necessary for weekly play. I find myself fiddling with maps, imagining other city-states and nations, creating exotic religions, and conjuring up strange vistas beyond the horizon. It's hard not to do this, because I enjoy doing it and because, for most of my time in the hobby, creating worlds was what referees were expected to do. Now, don't misunderstand: I am regularly creating a world for the Dwimmermount campaign. Every time I populate a room in the megadungeon, for example, I'm adding little details that give the greater whole depth and context that it wouldn't otherwise have and I enjoy this. The difficulty is that I find myself wanting to go beyond this and detail more than my players need -- or likely will ever need -- to play enjoyably in the campaign.
So far, I've (largely) resisted the urge to go hog wild and detail the entire world. There's simply no need to do so and I've come to accept that, the less that is set in stone, the better, as it gives me a lot more freedom in my refereeing. Every detail I establish before it's needed is a link in a chain that restricts my future movement and that of my players. It's better to be patient, focus on the here and now, and fill in details of gods and nations and other worlds only when there's an immediate need to do so. It's a very different way of creating worlds than I am used to -- or temperamentally inclined towards -- but it's also a very rewarding one and one, I suspect, that's closer to the way things were done back in the early days. Even if it isn't, I've learned a lot by adopting it and highly recommend it to others, if they've never done so themselves.
Still, I thought then -- and do now -- that it was a worthwhile endeavor in its own right. As someone who entered the hobby after those glory days and whose tastes now are more in tune with them, I wanted to give myself every opportunity to appreciate the unique virtues of those times in the only way I could. I'd say that, by and large, my Dwimmermount campaign has succeeded in its original purpose. After 21 sessions (I'll post a session summary of the most recent one soon), it shows no signs of stopping and everyone is enjoying themselves, which is the only real measure of a campaign's worth. In addition, I've learned quite a lot about what works and what doesn't, both within OD&D specifically and old school games generally. And I've acquired a number of new methods and approaches that I somehow never learned in my formative years as a referee.
The process of "unlearning" is sometimes a difficult one, particularly when it comes to world-building. I am an inveterate world-builder. I love to create new worlds and am always turning over ideas for such things in my head. It's a great blessing in many ways but it's also a curse, particularly when running a campaign, like Dwimmermount, where I'm philosophically committed to letting things evolve naturally and not according to some master plan beforehand. Consequently, the setting of the campaign is still quite limited and fuzzy beyond a certain point. Indeed, only Dwimmermount, Adamas, and Muntburg have much detail at all and while the players have heard of the existence of other places, like Yethlyreom, City of the Necromancers, or Thule, the ghost-haunted island whose ancient inhabitants forged an empire for the ages, they've never traveled there or learned much about them.
The result is a very focused campaign and I think that's part of the secret of its success. Dwimmermount is the centerpiece of the campaign and it's where the characters go, week after week, in their quest for adventure. This has also made it very easy for me to run, since I know precisely where the PCs are headed and I can prepare accordingly -- or not, as the case may be, since, depending on how far the PCs have gotten, a megadungeon-oriented campaign may not require the creation of new material on a weekly basis, previously created material not having been exhausted yet. It's a very different way of playing, to be sure, but it's been quite satisfying and it's helped me clarify quite a few things in my own mind as a result.
But old habits die hard and there's a part of me that finds it difficult to restrain myself and not flesh out the world beyond Dwimmermount more than is necessary for weekly play. I find myself fiddling with maps, imagining other city-states and nations, creating exotic religions, and conjuring up strange vistas beyond the horizon. It's hard not to do this, because I enjoy doing it and because, for most of my time in the hobby, creating worlds was what referees were expected to do. Now, don't misunderstand: I am regularly creating a world for the Dwimmermount campaign. Every time I populate a room in the megadungeon, for example, I'm adding little details that give the greater whole depth and context that it wouldn't otherwise have and I enjoy this. The difficulty is that I find myself wanting to go beyond this and detail more than my players need -- or likely will ever need -- to play enjoyably in the campaign.
So far, I've (largely) resisted the urge to go hog wild and detail the entire world. There's simply no need to do so and I've come to accept that, the less that is set in stone, the better, as it gives me a lot more freedom in my refereeing. Every detail I establish before it's needed is a link in a chain that restricts my future movement and that of my players. It's better to be patient, focus on the here and now, and fill in details of gods and nations and other worlds only when there's an immediate need to do so. It's a very different way of creating worlds than I am used to -- or temperamentally inclined towards -- but it's also a very rewarding one and one, I suspect, that's closer to the way things were done back in the early days. Even if it isn't, I've learned a lot by adopting it and highly recommend it to others, if they've never done so themselves.
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Hexographer?
Anyone out there ever used Hexographer? It looks rather nifty and might be just the little program I want for designing the kinds of wilderness maps I prefer, but I'd prefer to hear some firsthand opinions about the program before I shell out any money for it.
An Odd Sighting
So I bought myself a copy of the 75th anniversary edition DVD of Dracula with a gift card I was given by my sister for my 40th birthday. I'll talk later about my opinion of the film after having watched it for the first time in probably decades, but I wanted to quickly mention something I noticed when I looked at the DVD.
The film was released in 1931 by Universal Studios and includes a note indicating, "Copyright 1931, Universal Studios," as you'd expect. This is followed by "Renewed 1958 by Universal Studios." Now, I know of the existence of copyright renewal. However, this is the first time I recall a renewal notice being stated like that. I'm not sure whether a renewal notice is required by law or not. I'm assuming it isn't, since I so rarely see such things. Or maybe I'm just not very observant. In any case, I found it interesting and more than a little wistful about a world in which Universal Studios actually had to apply for a copyright renewal 28 years after one of its films was released.
The film was released in 1931 by Universal Studios and includes a note indicating, "Copyright 1931, Universal Studios," as you'd expect. This is followed by "Renewed 1958 by Universal Studios." Now, I know of the existence of copyright renewal. However, this is the first time I recall a renewal notice being stated like that. I'm not sure whether a renewal notice is required by law or not. I'm assuming it isn't, since I so rarely see such things. Or maybe I'm just not very observant. In any case, I found it interesting and more than a little wistful about a world in which Universal Studios actually had to apply for a copyright renewal 28 years after one of its films was released.
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