Posts Tagged ‘ AD&D ’

The First Day

Today begins a series of twelve days worth of posts about things monstrous and terrible. The first day is inspired by The Birch, a nifty short film available via Crypt TV.

On the first day of searching / My party encountered: / A birchwrath in a fell wood.

The birchwrath is a plant monster summoned from a wooded area in which birch trees grow. Few creatures know the ritual used to call a birchwrath. The sigils and chants are most often handed down within certain clans or tribes.

AD&D Version

Frequency: Very rare
No. Appearing: 1
Armor Class: 0
Move: 15″
Hit Dice: 16
% in Lair: Nil
Treasure Type: Nil
No. of Attacks: 2
Damage/Attack: 2-8/2-8
Special Attacks: See below
Special Defenses: Half damage from blunt and piercing attacks
Magic Resistance: Standard
Intelligence: Average
Alignment: Neutral
Size: L (9′ tall)
Psionic Ability: Nil
Attack/Defense Modes: Nil
Level/XP Value: IX/6,500 + 20/hp

The birchwrath exists to mete out vengeance for its summoner. Once conjured and instructed what to do, the birchwrath no longer responds to its summoner. The birchwrath is a faultless tracker within one day of a quarry’s passing. Once its engages its victim(s), the birchwrath attacks with its powerful hands. If both hands strike its opponent, the birchwrath does an additional 4-16 points of rending damage.

The birchwrath’s dense bark and woody tissues resist damage from blunt and piercing weapons, which inflict half normal damage. Attacks against a birchwrath based on fire gain a +4 “to hit” bonus and inflict +1 point of damage per damage die. The birchwrath makes saving throws against fire with a -4 penalty. If the birchwrath takes damage from fire, it becomes enraged, gaining a +2 “to hit” bonus and inflicting +2 damage per damage die with its attacks (including rending damage, if applicable).

The birchwrath always passes without trace. It is able to use any of the following powers at will, once per turn: trip, warp wood, and plant door.

The birchwrath does not speak, but it understands the Common Tongue and the languages of woodland beings.


5E D&D Version

Large plant, neutral

Armor Class 16 (natural armor)
Hit Points 152 (16d10+64)
Speed 40 ft.

Ability Scores STR 21 (+5), DEX 10 (+0), CON 19 (+4), INT 10 (+0), WIS 14 (+2), CHA 10 (+0)

Skills Perception +5, Survival +5
Damage Vulnerabilities fire
Damage Resistances bludgeoning, piercing
Senses passive Perception 15
Languages Common and Sylvan, but doesn’t speak
Challenge 8 (3,900 XP)

False Appearance. While the birchwrath remains motionless, it is indistinguishable from a normal tree.

Faultless Tracker. The birchwrath is given a quarry by its summoner. The birchwrath knows the direction and distance to its quarry as long as the two of them are on the same plane of existence. The birchwrath also knows the location of its summoner.

Passes without Trace. A birchwrath moves in a veil of shadows and muted sounds. It has a +10 bonus to Dexterity (Stealth) checks and can’t be tracked except by magical means.

Rend. As a bonus action against a restrained creature, the birchwrath rends the target’s flesh, inflicting 23 (4d8+5) slashing damage.

Innate Spellcasting. The birchwrath’s innate spellcasting ability is Wisdom (spell save DC 13). The birchwrath can innately cast the following spells, requiring no material components:

1/day each: grasping vine, spike growth, tree stride

Actions

Claws. Melee Weapon Attack: +8 to hit, reach 10 ft., one target. Hit: 18 (3d8+5) slashing damage. If the target is a creature, it is grappled (escape DC 16). Until this grapple ends, the target is restrained, and the birchwrath cannot its claws on another target.


Nota Bene: I still have three bundles of products for sale:

  1. The Mutant Wastland Holiday Adventures bundle features three post-apocalyptic products.
  2. The New School Holiday Adventures bundle of six 5E-compatible products
  3. The Old School Holiday Adventure bundle includes 16 OSR products.
December 25th, 2018  in RPG 2 Comments »

The Beginning of the End

Today’s post seems particularly important since the world ended yesterday. So, without further ado, I bring you the giant grasshopper apocalypse.

If you’ve never watched Bert I. Gordon’s delightfully horrible The Beginning of the End, you’re missing out on an American film that aspires to B-movie status. Starring Peter Graves and Peggie Castle, this absurd piece of cinema history features a plucky photojournalist (Castle), a heroic agriculturalist (Graves), and an assortment of bit players doing a poor job of pretending horror in the face of ravenous grasshoppers grown to monstrous proportions after eating radiation-treated giant fruits, vegetables, and grains.

Get it? A radiation-based science project designed to end world hunger creates a swarm of giant locusts that threaten to devour the world’s food supply? Ooh. Irony.

If you’re brave enough, here’s the trailer. After the pic below, you’ll find giant grasshoppers for two game systems.

Presenting the Megalocust, first for Mutant Future and then for Advanced Dungeons & Dragons.

Alignment: Neutral
Movement: 120′ (40′)
Armor Class: 4
Hit Dice: 12
Attacks: 1 (bite or trample)
Damage: 3d6 or 6d6
Save: L5
Morale: 8
Hoard Class: None
XP: 3,800

Mutations: Poison Resistance, Reflective Epidermis (radiation), Sonic Suspectibility

The megalocust is a flightless grasshopper the size of a school bus. It has a voracious appetite, and it does not distinguish between animal or vegetable matter. In close combat, it attacks with a powerful bite (1-2) or tramples its target (4-6). The megalocust has a +4 to its attack roll when attempting to trample a foe that is smaller or approximately equal to the size of a horse. This mutant is immune to the effects of radiation. It suffers only half damage from poison, or no damage at all with a successful saving throw. The megalocust is vulnerable to sonic attacks and effects. It takes +1 point of damage per die from sonic attacks that cause damage. Against other effects, it suffers a -4 penalty to its saving throws.

What makes the megalocust most dangerous is that it maybe encountered as part of a swarm (25%) rather than a solitary creature (75%). A swarm contains 5d10+50 megalocusts.

Frequency: Rare
No. Appearing: 1-4 (75%) or 55-100 (25%)
Armor Class: 4
Move: 12″
Hit Dice: 12
% in Lair: Nil
Treasure Type: Nil
No. of Attacks: 1
Damage/Attack: 3-18
Special Attacks: Trample
Special Defenses: See below
Magic Resistance: Standard
Intelligence: Animal
Alignment: Neutral
Size: L (about 40 feet long)
Psionic Ability: Nil
Attack/Defense Modes: Nil
Level/X.P. Value: VII/2,700+16/hp

The megalocust is an enormous, ravenous insect most often encountered alone or in small numbers. Some of the time, however, megalocusts breed in prodigious numbers and form a swarm. In combat, the megalocust attacks with a powerful bite, but most of the time smaller creatures simply will be trampled for 6-36 points of damage. The megalocust is immune to electricity and poison. It suffers double damage from sound-based attacks (where applicable), and has a -4 penalty to its saving throws against such effects.

April 24th, 2018  in RPG No Comments »

No Estamos Solos

Woke up early this morning (like I do pretty much every morning ever), and so I watched No Estamos Solos, a Netflix import from Peru. While this movie doesn’t cover any ground not already covered dozens of times by better movies, it does feature some decent performances by Marco Zunino (as Mateo, the papa); Fiorella Díaz (as Mónica, Mateo’s second wife); and Zoe Arévalo (as Sofía, Mateo’s daughter from his first marriage).

I’m pretty sure there’s a checklist for screenwriters working on haunted house and/or possession movies. No Estamos Solos faithfully checks all the boxes, to include some scenes that look so familiar I’m pretty sure they were lifted from other films. On the plus side, the film is short (76 minutes), so I didn’t have to wait long for the bumps, chills, and predictable confrontation between Padre Rafael (played by Lucho Cáceres) and the forces of evil.

Rather than another monster for The Cthulhu Hack, here are a dozen things that can happen in a haunted house, as filtered through the prism of AD&D spells.

September 2nd, 2017  in RPG No Comments »

Wisdom

In Gibeon the LORD appeared to Solomon in a dream at night. God said: “Whatever you ask I shall give you.” Solomon answered: “You have shown great kindness to your servant, David my father, because he walked before you with fidelity, justice, and an upright heart; and you have continued this great kindness toward him today, giving him a son to sit upon his throne. Now, LORD, my God, you have made me, your servant, king to succeed David my father; but I am a mere youth, not knowing at all how to act — I, your servant, among the people you have chosen, a people so vast that it cannot be numbered or counted. Give your servant, therefore, a listening heart to judge your people and to distinguish between good and evil. For who is able to give judgment for this vast people of yours?” (1 Kings 3:5-9)

Wisdom traditionally has been viewed as the ability to discern good from evil with the aim of doing the first and avoiding the latter. This view is reflected in AD&D‘s explanation of Wisdom, which “is a composite term for the character’s enlightenment, judgement, wile, will power, and (to a certain extent) intuitiveness” (PH, p. 11). It is the attribute which “subsumes the categories of willpower, judgment, wile, enlightenment, and intuitiveness” (DMG, p. 15). The qualities that Wisdom represents help me understand why Wisdom is the principal attribute of clerics, as well as being important for druids, paladins, rangers, and monks. For all but the monk, Wisdom also represents a connection to the divine, and, by extension, is a factor in a character’s alignment.

Some words about alignment. First and foremost, alignment is not a set of rules that dictate how a character must act. Sure, certain characters may suffer major consequences for acting contrary to their alignments, but their alignments per se do not make contrary action impossible. Also, alignment descriptions in the rules (PH, pp. 33-34; DMG, pp. 23-24) are generalizations. But what is alignment? It is a short-hand description of “the broad ethos of thinking, reasoning creatures” (DMG, p. 23). That’s it. Alignment summarizes a particular creature’s “disposition, character, or fundamental values” (to quote the dictionary about ethos). Alignment makes it possible to predict what a certain creature will do in such-and-such situation most of the time. Deviations are always possible, and probably fairly common in at least small ways.

Alignment is not, however, a reflection of a wholly subjective set of value judgments. In AD&D as the rules are written, it makes no sense to say that dwarves only think orcs are evil because dwarves are socially conditioned to think that way, but the orcs don’t view their actions as evil and so those actions are not really evil. It cannot be denied that there is always a subjective element in all moral judgments, but orcs “are cruel and hate living things in general”. They really hate elves “and will always attack them in preference to other creatures.” Orcs “take slaves for work, food, and entertainment (torture, etc) but not elves whom they kill immediately” (emphases added). In no way can cruelty, murderous cannibalism, slavery, torture for fun, et cetera be colored as anything other than evil. Orcs are not misunderstood or functioning under different but equally valid cultural norms. They’re evil as a general rule, both individually and collectively.

Alignment is especially important to classes with a connection to the divine. For example, clerics who “have not been faithful to their teachings, followed the aims of their deity, contributed freely to the cause, and otherwise acted according to the tenets of their faith” may find themselves unable to acquire certain levels of spells (DMG, p. 38). The consequences for paladins are perhaps the most severe of all. Paladins who “knowing perform an act which is chaotic in nature” must do appropriate penance. Those who “ever knowingly and willingly perform an evil act” lose paladin status forever.

My strong suspicion is that Mr. Gygax’s wording about paladins shows at least a familiarity with classical expressions of Christian moral theology. Note that certain actions are “chaotic in nature”. In other words, those actions are in and of themselves chaotic, regardless of what the paladin’s opinion might be or what the circumstances are. Christian moral theology doesn’t really consider things on a law-chaos axis as much as a good-evil axis, but recalling that “law dictates that order and organization [are] necessary and desirable” and “generally supports the group as more important than the individual” helps me grok essential differences. Ultimately, law cannot be concerned with what is merely legal. The Western philosophical tradition, well back before the time of Christ, has understood that unjust laws are not really laws. If torture is evil, for example, no law saying torture is acceptable makes torture not evil. Instead, in its essence, it seems as if law’s main thrust is that the Other and/or the Many have greater priority than the Self and/or the One. Note well that AD&D‘s alignment system conceptually separates such considerations from good-evil.

What this means for the lawful creature is that, all things being equal, the lawful creature puts the needs of others first. If a cleric and her companions are severely injured and in imminent danger of more harm, the lawful cleric probably heals her companions first. Perhaps some practical circumstances makes another use of healing resources more prudent, but, in general, the lawful cleric’s needs take a backseat to the needs of others. Back to the paladin, avoiding chaotic actions probably means that much of the time the paladin’s ability to “lay on hands” is going to be used to heal someone else.

When turning to good-evil, we see that “the tenets of good are human rights, or in the case of AD&D, creature rights. Each creature is entitled to life, relative freedom, and the prospect of happiness. Cruelty and suffering are undesirable.” Evil “does not concern itself with rights or happiness; purpose is the determinant” (DMG, p. 23). In other words, evil is about the will to power, about the ends both justifying and rationalizing the means. Those means may be aimed at the perceived benefit of the group (lawful evil) or entirely selfish (chaotic evil), but questions about life, freedom, and happiness are unimportant. As such, evil actions are evil in and of themselves. They are malum in se, not merely malum prohibitum. They violate what has been variously been called divine law, natural law, moral law, or (to use the term preferred by C. S. Lewis in The Abolition of Man) the Tao.

Back to what appears to be Mr. Gygax’s familiarity with classical expressions of Christian moral theology. Note that the paladin must “knowingly and willingly” do evil in order to lose paladin status. In classical Christian moral theology, distinctions are made between acts that are venial and mortal. Paladins lose their paladinhood for mortal acts, and for an act to be mortal it must meet certain objective criteria, namely:

1. The act’s subject matter must be grave. In other words, the act itself must be malum in se.
2. The act must be committed with full knowledge/awareness of the action’s evil and the gravity of the offense.
3. The act must be committed with deliberate and complete consent.

Each part above corresponds to part of makes paladins stop being paladins forever:

1. The act must be evil.
2. The act must be knowingly performed.
3. The act must be willingly performed.

In instances where the paladin does not have sufficient knowledge and/or does not act freely, the action remains evil, but does not meet the criteria necessary for him being stripped of paladinhood.

So what does this have to do with Wisdom?

Well, since Wisdom deals in part with a character’s ability to judge good from evil, it stands to reason that a character’s Wisdom somehow reflects at least the voice of conscience that kicks in before a character performs some act that will have dire consequences (such as loss of spells or no longer getting to advance as a paladin). This also means that I, as a DM, need to be clear about what constitutes law-chaos and good-evil in my campaign, and that I clearly communicate that information to my players. It doesn’t mean that such considerations are up for debate (although it might). If in my AD&D game I as DM say that torture is always and everywhere evil, then torture is always and everywhere evil.

Does that mean that, for example, a paladin may never resort to torture? No, for one reason: Paladins have free will. Does that mean that a paladin who tortures an enemy immediately and forever ceases to be a paladin? Probably. Referring to the three criteria above and considering that it’s my campaign world governed by certain moral absolutes I’ve defined as DM, the first criterion is met. I’ve communicated such to the players, but that doesn’t mean the paladin is all that hip to the truth. This is where the paladin’s Wisdom comes into play. If the paladin lacks sufficient Wisdom and sufficient moral training, he may be bit off in his understanding about torture. He might be fully aware of torture’s evil and gravity. Even if he is, there is still the third criterion. Does the paladin really have no other acceptable choice? If so, then, yes, the paladin commits a gravely evil act, but does not do so willingly. Some punishment from the gods is appropriate, but this punishment ought not include the permanent loss of paladinhood.

Wisdom reflects a character’s ability to discern good from evil. An exceptionally wise character ought not be surprised to learn after the fact that such-and-such action is evil. The character would have the insight to know ahead of time. The character may choose to ignore that insight as the player decides, and that is one of the ways that the moral drama implied by AD&D‘s alignment system comes into play.

July 31st, 2017  in RPG No Comments »

Magical Enervation & Invigoration

Recently, Matt Jackson had a thought about magic in Old School games. “If magic is to be powerful, magic should be dangerous, have consequences, and not always just be perfect,” Jackson wrote. Seems reasonable to me. Then, for some reason, I thought of Fate Dice. If you’re not familiar with Fate Dice, they’re like normal dice, but instead of numbers, their sides are either blank (equal to zero) or else are marked by a plus sign (equal to +1) or a minus sign (equal to -1).

When playing Fate (which you should do at least a few times because it’s a hoot), you roll four Fate Dice (4DF) and total the sides. About 23% of the time, you’ll end up with a zero. About 20% of the time, you end up with a +1, and another 20% of the time you get a -1. You end up with a +2 or -2 about 12% of the time, respectively; +3 or -3 about 5% of time, respectively; and +4 or -4 about 1% of the time.

Enough explanation. Back to Matt Jackson’s observation about magic. Imagine, if you will, a spellcaster, Zot the Wondrous, a 4th-level magic-user.

Confronted by charging lizardmen in a dark, humid cavern, Zot casts web. Zot’s web normally has a range of 2″ and lasts for 8 turns. Zot’s player picks a center point for the spell, hoping it ends up in the middle of the lizardmen. He then rolls 4DF, and gets a -1 total. The web goes into effect as if Zot was a 3rd-level magic-user. The caster’s desired center point for the spell ends up 1/2″ closer than expected, and the web lasts for 6 turns instead of 8. Later, Zot casts magic missile at a gelatinous cube. The player rolls 4DF, and gets a +2. Zot’s magic missile goes into effect as he were a 6th-level magic-user, which means he fires three missiles instead of two.

These increases or decreases to effective casting level can change the odds of the caster overcoming magic resistance. Normally, Zot’s caster level boosts a magically resistant monster’s magic resistance by 35%. If he had cast magic missile at a creature with magic resistance instead of a gelatinous cube, the monster’s magic resistance would have been boosted by only 25% instead of 35% because of the +2 increase to Zot’s caster level. What’s more, increases or decreases to caster level also change the spell’s effective level. In other words, Zot’s web against the gnolls would be treated as 1st-level spell and his magic missile against the cube would have been equal to a 3rd-level spell (a level of spell Zot would not normally be able to cast as a 4th-level magic-user).

Magical Enervation

When Zot’s spells take effect at a lower casting level, it is because of magical enervation. The ebb and flow of magical energies is somewhat unpredictable, and spells often end up at least slightly weaker. If a spell’s adjusted spell level ever equals zero or lower, then the caster does not lose memorization of the spell. For example, if Zot’s web had gone into effect as a 0-level spell, Zot would have not lost memorization of web after casting.

Magical Invigoration

When a spell takes effect at a higher level than normal, the caster experiences magical invigoration. Furthermore, if the spell’s effective level increases to a level the caster cannot normally access (as happened to Zot when he cast that magic missile), the caster must make a saving throw versus spell to avoid being stunned a number of rounds equal to the number of levels of increase applied to the spell. Thus, Zot would have to make that saving throw versus spell to avoid being stunned. If he makes the saving throw, Zot isn’t stunned, and he loses memorization of magic missile as normal. If Zot fails the save, he is stunned for two rounds, but the surge of magical energies burns the spell back into his memory; therefore, Zot does not lose memorization of magic missile.

July 9th, 2017  in RPG No Comments »