Spes Magna Games

Today is a two-fer since I didn’t post yesterday. Busy, busy with the beginning of the new school year, making sure all those T’s are dotted and all those I’s are crossed. For my favorite undead, I’m tempted to just link my old post about the death knight and be done with it, but that seems kind of lazy. I’m not going to do that.

My favorite undead is hard to pin down. If I were writing about movies/TV shows, my favorite undead would be zombies, but only when they’re a metaphor (such as in 1978’s Dawn of the Dead) and/or when they serve as a mirror in which the survivors’ humanity becomes reflected (such as in 2011’s State of Emergency, which I found to be surprisingly hopeful). Of course, I’m not supposed to be writing about movies. This is the 30-Day D&D Challenge, and zombies don’t really do it for me in D&D. I’ve used them, of course, and quite a bit, but D&D and survival horror are a tough match.

For D&D, the mummy reigns as my favorite undead.

“But why, Mark?” you ask.

Well, the picture piercing your soul with its glowing stare probably gave it away, but I reply to your question with a simple, “Because Boris Karloff.”

Sure, you can play mummies like lumbering, bandage-wrapped mashers, and the inferior sequels to 1932’s The Mummy veered in that direction, but that’s not the way I feel mummies should be played. The word “mummy” conjures up visions of ancient Egypt. Pyramids and sphinxes and scarabs. Kings, high priests, and powerful ministers got the mummy treatment, which isn’t quite the whole story, but it provides the hook for what a mummy ought to be.

Oh, sure, the boss mummy could have lumbering, bandage-wrapped mummy lackeys to bash interlopers, but the mummy should be more like Ardath Bey, also known as Imhotep. He’s clever, obsessed, powerful, urbane, and menacing. He doesn’t just lunge out of a sarcophagus and start swinging. To get the full-on Imhotep experience, add some divination powers and a vampire-like ability to charm the PC who’s the reincarnation of his forbidden love.

My favorite aberration bears some defining ahead of time. Early D&D didn’t have monster types as introduced by 3E. A monster type is sort of like the monster’s base character class. “An aberration has a bizarre anatomy, strange abilities, an alien mindset, or any combination of the three,” says the SRD. Classic D&D aberrations include monsters such as adherers, blindheims, boggarts, and cloakers.

And, of course, the dreaded aboleth. Evil, intelligent, vaguely fish-like, and tentacled, aboleths fool your senses with illusions and crush you will with charms. Aboleths lair in lightless, flooded caverns or deep under the sea. It’s almost a moral imperative that choirs of aboleths chant obscene litanies to Lovecraftian horrors.

“Ia! Ia! Nyarlathotep Fthagan!”

Tags: 30 Day D&D Challenge, horror, monsters, undead

I’m going off-topic again today. I have to. My favorite NPC of all time isn’t a D&D NPC. (Yeah, yeah. I know I could write about my favorite D&D NPC instead of my favorite NPC, but I don’t feel like it.)

Way back when, we played a lot of TSR’s Marvel Super Heroes Roleplaying Game. Pretty much from the get-go we decided we’d play our own heroes rather than established comic book heroes (although such heroes did make cameos once in a while). Established comic book villains were used more often, but we also enjoyed facing our own villains.

Which brings me to Volt.

When I first introduced Volt, he was an electrical martial artist loosely patterned after the Shang-Chi villain Shockwave. Volt was one of a baker’s dozen of street-level bad guys who figured what they lacked in individual power they’d make up for in numbers. This gang of villains initiated a city-wide crime wave intent on overwhelming first responders in order to bring the metropolis to its knees.

Their plan didn’t work. The heroes captured all of the villains except Volt.

A couple of adventures later, I decided Volt needed to show up again. I reworked his powers a little, making him a bit tougher. I also made him the leader of a group called the Sinister Six: Mastermind (wicked mentalist), the Clown (high-tech prankster), Ogre (mentally challenged muscle), Blindside (mute speedster), and Raven (bird-winged feral woman, who later reformed and became an ally of the heroes). The Sinister Six staged a daring public abduction of the U.S. President, snatching him from his motorcade en route to a conference. Again, the heroes defeated the villains, and Volt escaped once more.

More adventures passed, and then Volt came back again, rebuilt to be more formidable and with a richer background and personality. He’d morphed from a small-time villain to a mercenary with an international reputation for ruthlessness and a warped sense of honor related to his current contract. He had a new Sinister Six. The Clown was replaced by Gravity’s Angel (gravity manipulator) and Raven was replaced by Machine (psychopathic technopath). The Sinister Six had been hired by an evil wizard known as the Evoker. Evoker was attempting to assemble the fractured pieces of an ancient artifact, and the Sinister Six were doing his heavy lifting, robbing museums, et cetera.

What Volt didn’t know was the Evoker’s real plan was to assemble the artifact and then sacrifice the Sinister Six in order to achieve god-like power and rule the Earth after it had been transformed into a hellscape. The heroes uncovered this plan, and they confronted Volt and the Sinister Six with the full truth. Volt did not take kindly to being hoodwinked by his employer, so he joined forces with the heroes in an epic smackdown against the wizard and his demon horde. During the fight, the Evoker and Volt were both sucked through an interdimensional vortex, and the Earth was saved.

More adventures passed, and Volt returned again, mutated by his exposure to alien worlds so that he was powerful enough to no longer need a team for back-up. At this time, Volt entered semi-retirement, but the damage to the heroes’ psyche remained. The mere hint that Volt might be up to something was enough to put the heroes on high alert.

Volt made appearances in other game systems as well. I had a Champions version. Volt tore up parts of the DC universe in Mayfair Games’ DC Heroes when I was stationed at Fort Bragg, North Carolina. No matter what the game system, Volt remained the villain who was never caught.

Tags: 30 Day D&D Challenge, NPCs, superhero games

I enjoy a clever trap or puzzle. When it comes to favorites, two come to mind.

Once upon a time, I ran a 1E adventure for Fred and someone else who I’ve forgotten. Fred ran Blake. Someone Else ran something. Their mission was to defeat an evil overlord who oppressed the people of his domain. Justifiable fear of assassination motivated said evil overlord to lair in the center of a maze rumored to be impenetrable. From within the maze, evil overlord sent forth his monstrous minions to do his wicked bidding.

Blake and Something entered the maze. They could not help but notice the strange runes over the archways leading from one maze chamber to the next. The heroes decided that the runes must be the key to navigating the maze. So, while fighting off one ambush after another, and never discovering from whence the ambushers came, Blake and Something made meticulous notes about the runes and applied their code-breaking skills.

There was one huge problem with this approach. The runes were a red herring. They had no intrinsic meaning related to the correct path through the maze because there was no correct path through the maze. Indeed, there was no maze at all. The entire labyrinth was a complex and powerful permanent illusion situated in a large cavern beneath the evil overlord’s castle. The evil overlord and all his monstrous minions were immune to the illusion. Blake and Something weren’t.

After a couple of hours, Blake said something to the effect of, “This doesn’t make any sense. There are no secret doors anywhere. The runes aren’t helping. I can’t believe anyone could get through this maze.”

I said something to the effect, “Save versus spells for Blake.”

A die clattered. “I made it.”

“The maze isn’t real. It’s an illusion.”

Much cussing followed, and then Blake and Something pierced the veil and brought the fight directly to the evil overlord.

In another adventure for 2E that I wrote as a sidetrek for Return to the Tomb of Horrors, the PCs had to retrieve a magical key. The key was at the bottom of a dungeon, of course. The heroes fought their way through the hordes of undead to the key’s chamber, which was described something to this effect:

“The chamber is a large rectangle, at least 60 feet long and 30 feet wide. Two rows of ornate stone columns to the left and right support the arched ceiling. The far wall is pitch black. About 15 feet in front of this black wall is a pedestal. Floating over the pedestal in a shimmering light is the key. A tendril of light extends from the black wall to the shimmering sphere that holds the key.”

Investigation revealed that the black wall was transparent. Behind it in inky darkness swam undead things, including an enormous snapping turtle skeleton. The shimmering sphere around the key seemed impervious, as did the tendril of light.

“Let’s see if dispel magic will work,” someone said.

They did, and it did. What the heroes didn’t know is that the shimmering sphere of light was not a product of the transparent black wall, but vice versa. Once the shimmering sphere of light was dispelled, the heroes could get the key, but only after the transparent black wall vanished and hundreds of thousands of gallons of cold water full of undead monsters rushed into the chamber. Better still, the columns that supported the ceiling didn’t really support the ceiling. They weren’t solidly anchored to either floor or ceiling, and the surge of water toppled them to inflict crushing damage on whomever they fell.

Ah, good times.

Tags: 30 Day D&D Challenge, tricks/traps

Today’s 30-Day D&D Challenge topic seems a bit, well, vague to me. I’m not a huge fan of megadungeons, so those are right out. I’d be happy to never get involved in another megadungeon as long as game. I like short dungeons with clearly defined goals which can be reached through a variety of different paths. I also like dungeons that aren’t really dungeons. It’s not that I mind an old-fashioned crawl through dark caverns full of monsters, but a “dungeon” can be any setting which requires exploration and confrontation with some obstacle in order to achieve a goal.

For example, last OwlCon, I ran a scenario loosely designed for Sine Nomine Publishing’s wonderful Stars Without Number. The set-up involved the PCs running a mission to salvage a long-lost luxury space yacht. Unfortunately, the yacht was haunted by horrible evil. Beyond this premise, I had little of the adventure detailed. There were no NPCs to interact with, and the only locations were the PCs’ ship and the yacht. Instead, I had a short list of spooky events. The PCs interacted with each other and the environments. The players hatched theories and asked questions. I took notes and made stuff up as a I went along. The players themselves ended up providing most of the details, to include the final resolution of the scenario itself.

And now a bonus monster!

Tangle Bug
Hit Dice: 6
Armor Class: 5 [14]
Attacks: Bite (1d8)
Saving Throw: 11
Special: Tangle
Move: 9 (Climb 6)
Alignment: Neutrality
Challenge Level/XP: 7/600

This yellow and brown insect grows to lengths of 5 feet. It attacks with its powerful bite. Tangle bugs have an unusual defense mechanism. When it suffers damage, fibrous branches sprout from its body.

These branches break off easily and harmlessly close to the surface of the bug’s carapace, leaving nearby creatures tangled in the tough fibers. The branches that sprout after damage reach out to a length equal to twice the number of points of damage inflicted. Thus, striking a tangle bug for 7 points of damage causes fibrous branches to extend out to 14 feet. Creatures within the reach of the branches must make a saving throw to avoid being tangled. Otherwise, it requires a round and a successful open doors check to break free. A tangled creature moves and fights at half speed. Tangle bugs are immune to these fibrous branches.

Tags: 30 Day D&D Challenge, monsters, Stars Without Number, Swords & Wizardry

Again, I’m not quite sure I’m a reflective enough gamer to complete the 30-Day D&D Challenge in its literal intent. I’ve run so many adventures for just about every version of D&D that I’m not sure I can pick a favorite one. I can, however, at least pick out one adventure that I’ve enjoyed, specifically The Lost Caverns of Tsojcanth. I’ve run this delightful module three different times that I remember. I’ve never had a party of adventurers complete the module with what could be called rousing success. Two parties failed; the third survived but unleashed a horrible evil.

The first time I ran Lost Caverns was in high school. I don’t remember everyone who played. Fred was there, probably running Blake. Big Greg was there, and he definitely ran a cleric of Poseidon. (Why Poseidon was a deity in the World of Greyhawk is a mystery.) There were other players, perhaps Little Greg, the other Mark, and Ben. Someone was playing a cleric of Thor.

Regardless, the adventure proceeded apace through the lesser caverns until the party reached the gorgimera cavern. Aside from the gorgimera, there were stairs leading from this cavern down to the greater caverns. I described how the gorgimera took wing as the party entered, maneuvering to attack. For some reason I’ve forgotten, the players sort of panicked, especially Big Greg. The cleric of Poseidon had a necklace of prayer beads that included the bead of summoning. So, Big Greg, thinking that the party needed direct divine assistance against the fearsome gorgimera, used this bead to call forth Poseidon himself.

I described how Poseidon appeared in all his divine majesty. How the stones shook. How the cavern grew larger to accommodate his awesome stature. How Poseidon casually swatted the gorgimera from the air, killing it, and then asked, “For what great purpose have you summoned me?”

This was not what Big Greg expected to happen, and Poseidon was displeased to have been summoned for so trivial as task of slaying a mere gorgimera. In tribute, he demanded one magic item from each party member. The cleric of Thor balked. Poseidon reminded his cleric (Big Greg’s PC) that “[n]o cleric [of a Greek mythos deity] may have dealings with clerics of other sects for any reason (on non-hostile terms) as this is considered a minor transgression by their deity and punishable by the stripping away of the third and higher levels of spells for a lunar month” (1E Deities & Demigods). Poseidon demanded his cleric teach the cleric of Thor a lesson in manners to avoid this punishment. This resulted in a cleric versus cleric smackdown which Big Greg’s cleric won. Poseidon took as many magic items as he wanted from the defeated cleric of Thor.

Then, just before leaving, Poseidon used his prerogatives as the god of natural disasters to have an earthquake strike the caverns, collapsing the paths back out of the lesser caverns to the surface and leaving the party no choice but to head down to the greater caverns despite their weakened state.

The party continued on. They eventually faced Drelzna, and the survivors managed to return to the surface, but poorer and perhaps wiser than when they went in. Lost Caverns tore through their resources, and I think the cleric of Thor was dead by the end of the adventure.

The second time I ran Lost Caverns I was stationed at either Fort Bragg, North Carolina, or Schofield Barracks, Hawaii. I don’t remember who the players were, which might mean I wasn’t running the adventure for my regular gaming groups at those duty stations. (That would be either the group with Wayne Royals or with Lewis Pulsipher at Fort Bragg, or the group with Ron Chance [no relation] at Schofield.)

Anyhoo, what I do remember transpired in the greater caverns, so I’m guessing the group did okay in the lesser caverns. I think it was during the fight against the demonic bar-lguras that one of the PCs died. The party retreated and, by accident, ended up in the cave with the chasme demons. Since the party had just suffered a defeat, I decided the chasme would be more conversational than confrontational.

For some reason, the players decided to trust the demonic fly monsters. I mean, what could go wrong? Right?

Turns out, plenty went wrong. The adventurers lamented the loss of their party member, and asked if the chasmes could help. One of them assured the PCs that, yes, it could restore the dead to life, but the process took a little time. The party agreed, and so the chasme rammed its proboscis into the corpse’s chest and pumped in a load of demonological goo. (By this time, I was just making stuff up as I went along.) The chasme told the adventurers to take the corpse with them, and after a while he would revive.

So, the adventurers took the corpse with them, and after a while the cadaver exploded, releasing several more chasme that had spawned from the demonological goo. At this time, the other chasme and the bar-lgura ambushed the party. During the resulting slaughter of PCs, two of the adventurers fled in terror, desperately hoping to find some safe haven. They found it by blundering into the magical cavern which teleported them into an alternate dimension valley populated by centaurs. Without the means to return to the cavern, and with the rest of the party dead, that particular foray into the caverns came to a screeching halt.

The last time I ran Lost Caverns was after I converted the module to 3E/3.5E for Man Day. The adventure became part of the campaign’s metaplot that pitted the PCs against a gradually revealed plot by forces loyal to Nerull, Erythnul, and Hextor to conquer a large swath of the World of Greyhawk. I replaced Drelzna with a monster called the Abyssal Mind, which turned out to be a fiendish vampiric intellect devourer.

This last group was the most successful, completing the modified module with no PC deaths (as far as I can remember). Unfortunately, they did fail to defeat the Abyssal Mind, and that horrible monster escaped its prison in the greater caverns to spread its evil on the surface. This was sort of recurring motif in that particular campaign. The PCs would defeat the forces of badness, but some element of badness would escape in order to cause trouble later on, such as when the adventurers were manipulated into freeing the Deathless One, a lich in service to Nerull.

But that’s another story.

Tags: 30 Day D&D Challenge, dungeon crawls, monsters