All The World’s Monsters, Volume 2 Part 4

All The World’s Monsters, Volume II, Part IV

What’s A Naz Gul Like You Doing In A Place Like This?

(I Stole That Horrible Pun From A Webcomic Whose Name I Cannot Recall — It Was Popular With Linux Types In The Late 90s/Early 00’s)

(Might Still Be Going For All I Know)

Roll up, roll up, for the mystery tour! Beyond these walls… erm… words… lies the fourth part of an exploration of the second volume of All The World’s Monsters, a classic of the Burgess Shale era of gaming, full of wonder, majesty, awe, genius, and madness, in non-equal portions! The prior part is here, and the start of the whole mess is here, and I’m pretty sure they’re all tagged “All The World’s Monsters” for easy finding. Then again, given my generally lazy and slapdash approach to things, they might not be all tagged. Anyway, on to the show!

Hm. I was going to start with ‘N’, but then I reviewed the last part and realized I didn’t get to ‘M’ there. So, ‘M’ it is.

M

Magebane: Yet one more monster that exists, primarily, to deprive players of resources. The magebane is a silvery blob that eats spell points when it’s attacked with magic — you roll percentage dice and that’s the percentage of the caster’s total spell points that are absorbed, with the creature gaining hit points on a 1-to-1 basis. Despite the obvious audience of the book being D&D/AD&D players, who didn’t use the spell point system preferred by the west coast gamers who produced ATWM, no conversion is given. Old School! As the magebane is not particularly deadly or threatening in itself, after a single encounter with one, the casters will hang back and let the meatshields deal with it. But, hmm… what if a magebane and a rust monster were merged, due to the experiments of a mad wizard? (In D&D-land, Charles Darwin’s contribution to human knowledge was “On The Origin Of Species By The Means Of Unnatural Magics”.)

Magic Absorber, First Class: Yet one more monster that exists, primarily, to deprive… players of… hey, are you getting a feeling of deja vu? There’s no “Magic Absorber, Second Class”, listed here, by the way. This one is a colored globe of light with its own unique mechanics to determine how it screws over the players. It likewise gets bigger and nastier as it eats magic, until it finally explodes.

Melter: An elephant sized merger of crab and hog that breathes acid and can use “Mass Charm” three times a day. To the surprise of no one reading this series, we can thank Clint Bigglestone, surely one of gaming’s unsung mad geniuses, for this. I honestly must wonder if Mr. Bigglestone’s brilliantly insane creations were fully formed in his imagination, or if he had the most amazing set of random tables ever known to humankind, and he simply “let the dice fall where they may” and submitted them. (Kind of like building an entire comic-book universe by using the Marvel Super Heroes “Ultimate Power Book” tables.)

Mobile Dis Swarm: This creature is a swarm of “quarter inch long stomachs with half inch fangs”. It simply engulfs and eats everything in its path. While that’s pretty par for the course in ATWM (which tells you a lot about the course, I wager), I noticed that it’s only injured by cold, heat, or “a special chemical called ‘Mobile Dis Salt'”. The frak? There has to be a story/pun/reference/something there I’m not getting. Something specific to the creator’s campaign, or something that was a common cultural touchpoint among some subset of late 70s gamers?

N

Off They Go, To Harvest Elves For Their Flesh. Mmmm… Elf Honey.

Naral: A “carniverous” (sic) 10 foot long bee, favored by “the people of the City of Chaos” because it makes a “stable riding platform”. Wouldn’t the people of the City of Chaos favor an unstable riding platform? In a perfect example of what some call “Gygaxian Naturalism”, it favors elf flesh. And now it occurs to me that, if it’s a meat-eating bee that lives in a huge honeycomb… and it is, and it does… then the “honey” must be made from flesh, not pollen or nectar. That’s, uh… an interesting concept. Wait, the “honeycomb” of bees is made from wax produced from the sugars they eat. Now, I think you can render animal fat into wax, or something, so I guess that works… but, wow, there’s a definitely horrific image of what a naral’s lair must look and smell like…

Nazgul: As promised. These Nazgul can be turned by Patriarchs, which is what they used to call “clerics of 7th level or higher” in Original D&D. (There was a thankfully brief trend in the 70’s to refer to NPCs by their “level name”, not by their class and level, so you’d encounter “two heroes and a theurgist” or the like. Nazgul drain 1d6 life levels per attack, or 1d3 if you save. That could destroy a party in 1 or 2 melee rounds, easily.

Nightseeker: A five-headed hydra which attacked with a dissolving poison. If you save vs. the poison three times… you don’t get to save any more. Please read carefully. Not “you don’t have to save anymore”, meaning, you have become immune to the poison, but “you don’t get to save anymore”, meaning, “Screw you and your so-called ‘lucky 20 sider’, You’re turning into protplasmic goop next round!”

The nightseeker is found in ruins as opposed to inhabited cities. The inclusion of this sentence implies it was considered common or normal for creatures of this ilk to be found in inhabited cities. Well, OK, then.

O

Ondoculus: This falls into the “I can’t write it, you have to read it” category.

“Quick, Ask Him About The Is-Ought Problem!”

Back in the “G”s, there is the “golcodulus”, a pet of the ondoculi. (That is the plural, yes.) 1d6 of them accompany each ondoculus. Thought you’d like to know this.

P

Poison Ivy Hedge: A mobile (why not?) hedge made of poison ivy. Because if the ceiling (lurker above), the floor (trapper), the walls (stunjelly) and the furniture (mimics, among others) are going to kill you, why not the freakin’ topiary? The poison it excretes causes severe itching, resulting in a -2 to attack rolls for two hours, and there is no saving throw. The treasure is “contained within itself”, so I expect this turned a minor encounter with a walking garden decoration into an hour long session of arguing with the DM over how you were going to get the treasure without exposing yourself to the poison, and the DM telling you how your plan wasn’t going to work, because we had “rulings, not rules” back then, and everyone was totally reasonable all the time and agreed on what “common sense” meant.

R

Raw’Yas: An ant-sized robot that follows other creatures around for when they (the other creatures) attack “anti-technos”, i.e., wizards. They “attack” by activating any technological devices in the area and directing them against the victims. They really don’t have any other stats to speak of. They appear in swarms of several hundred and have 1 hit point each, so (given the absence of generic ‘swarm’ rules in the era), you pretty much had to fireball the swarm to get them to stop… erm… using their “electric charm” on the other machines, which of course were always there to be charmed. This creature seems like it was created as part of a specific setting or adventure and then added to the book because, hey, it says “all” the world’s monsters, not “most of” the world’s monsters.

Rustlance: A rust monster that’s a snake. Yeah, that’s about it. It attacks with a horn for “4d8 plus rusting”. Since no rules are given, “use the rust monster rules” is heavily implied. Why not just use a rust monster? Because once players have encountered one, they’ll keep the meat shields away… see my comments on the magebane and the magic absorber, above. “Player skill, not character skill” meant “remember whatever killed your last character and have your new character react appropriately to it, despite having never encountered it before”.

Next Time: Scrubbing Bubbles

Fletcher Hanks: The RPG

Fletcher Hanks: The RPG

A brief post, inspired by a Facebook conversation.

GM:”You encounter a…”
Player: “I transform it into a two-headed frog, then take the frog to a space-snake, which swallows the frog and halfway digests it, but then I make the space-snake spit up the half-digested frog and I take what’s left and throw it into a black hole where it will be torn apart by gravitational forces for eternity while still being conscious.”
GM:”… jaywalker.”
Player: “I stand by my actions.”

And if you don’t know who Fletcher Hanks is… he is, or rather, was an alcoholic, violently abusive man who died alone and forgotten, frozen on a bench in Central Park in the 1970s.. and in the early 1940s created some of the most insane, bizarre, strange, and unforgettable comic book stories ever. Crudely drawn, poorly written, and bursting with the energy of unhinged madness and the desperate urge to churn out pages as fast as possible to meet the demands of an industry in its boom stage. Of his life between the last comic he published and his unheralded death — it would be decades until his lunatic genius was brought to a wider audience — almost nothing is known. But you can read everything he published, as well as the saga of tracking him down, here.

All The World’s Monsters, Volume 2 Part 3

All The World’s Monsters, Volume II, Part III

Featuring the Garlic Bread Golem

From The Rare “Bugbears And Bakeries” Supplement, I Guess

I Made That Up

The Supplement, I Mean. The Garlic Bread Golem? Totally Real.

This article is being written because a)My weekly Pathfinder game was cancelled as the GM failed his Fortitude save vs. Generic Winter Disease, and, b)I could get out of going to listen to my mother whine about things by saying I had writing to do, but not by saying I had to keep leveling my WoW character. So, writing.

The prior part of this particular walkthrough is here, and it has links to other parts, and someday I’ll stop being a lazy ass and spend 5-10 minutes organizing this series into a page. Someday. The day may come when I will stop procrastinating, but it is not this day!

Gangbat: Sadly, these do not come subdivided into Cripbats and Bloodbats, or even Jetbats and Sharkbats. It’s just a bat that always attacks in a horde. Sigh.

Ghostshark: Surely, the next big hit from Asylum pictures. Ghostsharks, from Clint Bigglestone, are actually sharks that “swim” on the ethereal plane but which will manifest on the material in order to take a bite out of crime, and by “crime”, I mean, the PCs. There is a small chance of more showing up each time one bites, which could cascade horribly (and by “horribly”, I mean “awesomely”) with a few good (or bad, depending on your perspective) rolls.

Golem, Garlic Bread: What, you thought I was kidding?

Look, I Just Comment On ‘Em, I Don’t Create ‘Em!

Some variants are burnt, granting +2 to AC, while still others are buttered, causing the area around them to act as a grease spell. Yeah, those two, I made up. But they’d be reasonable extrapolations, no? How about Bear, Gummi? Rabbit, Vorpal, Chocolate? Whale, Fudge?

Anyway, it is “mainly found in pizzerias”. Which are, I suppose, common in dungeons?

Griffopotamus: A hippo with wings. It will not attack unless provoked. Sadly, the writeup does not include rules for having it simply fall on you. Oh well.

Groaner: Small, extra-hairy, unwashed, hobbits. Their piteous whine causes beings of 4 HD or less to feel sorry for them and give them things. They are unfavorably compared to Denebian slime devils. This being a Dave Hargrave creation, I cannot help but imagine there’s some backstory here.

Grond: Another Hargrave creature, this is a bipedal badger-porcupine. It’s interesting how many mid-70s creatures seem like the result of someone going to a furry convention and seeing who hooks up with who, then imagining the resulting offspring. But since “furry fandom” didn’t exist back then, to my knowledge, this explanation is unlikely to be true.

Nope. Nope. Nope.

Harvestman: OK, folks, we got some serious nightmare fuel here. It is the result of the mating of a spider demon and his high priestess. It “dispises”(sic) all forms of life other than its own, and spell checkers. In combat, it prefers a “crush” attack which, naturally, has its own unique mechanics, as the idea of universal rules for things like this had not yet materialized. Welcome to the era of “microrules not rulings”!

Hellshrew: A 25lb shrew of “angry, evil, disposition”. As opposed to all those sweet-natured shrews we’re familiar with.

High Hunter: Dude, I am so stoned right now. Is that a deer? We should shoot it… wait… why is is sparkling? Whoa. I can hear it singing to me… OK, sorry. (Not sorry.) This is a “huge air dwelling creature” that is otherwise undescribed as to its looks. It hunts by dropping quills on potential targets. Said quills then inflate the victims with helium, so they float up to where the hunter kills it. Uhm… yeah. I think the hunter isn’t the only thing that was “high” at the time this was created, if you etgay my iftdray.

Ibem: A cubelike creature with one eye, one tongue, and two tentacles on each side. It will not bite until a victim is entangled in the tentacles, but there’s no real way to know what that means. I’m guessing, if both tentacles hit, the target is entangled, and then the ibem bites? Works for me!

Kalidah: A creature with a bear’s body and a lion’s head, from the Oz books, thus demonstrating L. Frank Baum was into kinky furry stuff long before it was mainstream. Well, mainstream-ish.

Kilmar: A psionic tennis ball covered with hair. Yes, really. Look!

“My Character Was Killed By A Psionic Tennis Ball” Is A Horrible Story To Tell At Cons.

Lert: If your party befriends one, the chances of being surprised drop considerably. You see, you’re keeping a lert. Think about it. Moving on…

Lotus, Gold/Yellow: This is actually two different plants. The golden lotus is very valuable and can be worth up to 1,000 gp per leaf, as well as being an ingredient for healing potions. The yellow lotus will just paralyze you if you touch it. Only trained botanists, which would never be a PC back in the days before any kind of knowledge skills, can tell the difference. It’s a good example of the kind of traps/gimmicks that abounded in those halcyon days. The solution to the problem is obvious: Send a 1HD NPC to go pick the flowers. If they’re not paralyzed, you keep the leaves and toss him a copper piece for his troubles. If he is, you’ll draw out the inevitable monster lurking around to take advantage of paralyzed PCs.

Lung Dragon: This is not one of the “Chinese dragons” featured in later volumes of the Monster Manual, but a dragon that is almost nothing but lungs. Its only attack is to inhale (make Bill Clinton joke here), which will cause targets to be sucked in based on a formula involving distance from the dragon. It feeds by inhaling metals; any jewels attached to the metal remain undigested.

 

 

 

All The World’s Monsters, Volume 2 Part 2

All The World’s Monsters, Volume II, Part II

Featuring “Demon Of Sleep Etc”

And The Foil Monster

God Damn, But I Love Unapologetic Old School Madness

Right! Let’s skip the all usual shilly-shallying, malingering, dilly-dallying, and loitering. If you want backstory, here’s part I of the Volume II walkthrough, and here’s Part I of the whole series. Now, on to the monsters!

“Carbuncle” Can Be A Pustule Or A Puppy. Go Figure.

Carbuncle: First, for the love all that’s holy or unholy, do not type ‘Carbuncle’ into Google Image Search unmodified. Trust me. In the classic AD&D Fiend Folio, a carbuncle was an armadillo with a gem in its forehead. This much earlier incarnation, presumably drawn from similar myth, is a winged puppy with a gem in its forehead. Since the gem is worth a fortune (per ATWM) and acts as a “double luckstone”, PCs will be gleefully massacring the adorable creature to the left. That might be why it was changed to a less-cuddly armadillo, because, let’s face it: If it’s walking around with loot in its forehead, it’s meant to be killed, so trying to make the players feel guilty for helping a creature fulfill its role in the ecosystem is hardly fair.

Cockroach That Ate Cincinnati: Based on the song. What do you mean, “What song?” Get off my lawn, you damn punk kids!

Coldtusk: A warthog with a tentacle for a nose (doing 8d10 damage(!)) and tusks that do 4d6 damage (+6d6 cold if a save vs. wand is failed). And it’s only a 5-7 HD monster!

Conehead: They are from France, and immune to any powers that effect emotion or thought. Come to think of it, I think a version of Coneheads also appeared in Arduin. Yeah, this entry is by Dave Hargrave, so they did.

Cyberscorp: Sounds like a 90s Marvel character, but it’s a cybernetic scorpion with a force-lash for a tail. When it fights sheem battle spiders, the tail “switches to positrons”. Thought you’d like to know that. Could come in handy someday.

Darkness Monster: It’s a reptile with hairy arms and… oh, just read it!

Reptiles Can’t Be Seen On Infrared. Who Knew?

Deadeye: A giant hog with a death gaze. Man, if you want bacon in old school games, you have to bloody well earn it!

Demon Of Sleep And Nightmare: This demon can put you to sleep with a single touch and then kill you in your dreams. It’s a mechanically complex critter, with a full paragraph of rules for its “death dream” power that can kill someone over the course of several rounds, and it also has a different armor class based on what type of attack is being used, effectively replacing the standard AC system entirely.

Demon Of Sleep Etc: I suppose someone didn’t want to type “Demon Of Sleep And Nightmare Type II”. This creature is like the Demon Of Sleep And Nightmare Type I (which was not listed as Type I, but never mind), except it can also put you to sleep with its gaze, and it carries a flail that inflicts a “Perrin Critical”, which means rolling twice on the “Perrin Critical Hit Table”, which is, hmm, probably in the “Perrin Conventions” at the beginning, no, maybe at the end? No. Hmm.

Old school!

(See also my coverage of the Princecon III rules for my comments on the long-lost “personalization” of mechanics and systems in the Burgess Shale era of gaming.)

Demon, Rainbow (Lesser): Resembles an octopus, but it can attack with only six tentacles, and each tentacle is “like a prismatic wall”,  but they “harden and strike like a storm giant”. Hm? I don’t see a Demon, Rainbow (Greater) here.

Dillemma (sic): It’s a goat headed ape. If it attacks, you may be stuck on its horns. Get it? Get It?

Dragon, Cinnamon/Sapphire: One of the rare and majestic “stripper name” dragons, this beastie breathes “polymorph”, and often inhales its own breath to change shape. Uhm, seriously. That’s what it says.

Dragon, Mahogany/Diamond: I already made the joke.

Dragon, Russet/Emerald: This one breathes “flesh to stone”. And doesn’t really sound like a stripper.

Dragon, Umber/Ruby: Because I felt they all needed to be listed.

I find the idea of “wood dragons” appealing as a collective type (maybe I’ll write them up…) , and I am huge fan of the original gem/crystal dragons (the psionic, neutral dragons) from AD&D. Unfortunately, this is a case where “less is not more”. Introducing a new set of dragons (they are referred to as the “Luce Neutral Dragons”) without any kind of context or framing, even two or three sentences, really leaves them as just some naked stat blocks, and dragons deserve better.

Today, We Steal From Video Games. Back Then, Album Covers. All Culture Is Appropriation.

Elephant Fly: Well, you’ve seen a horse fly, and a dragon fly, but you’ve never seen an elephant fly! (Was that from Dumbo? It must have been. It was in my brain, but I know I didn’t make it up.) But this creature isn’t from Disney. It’s from Roger Dean. See left.

Elephant, Flying: Also from a Roger Dean illustration, but, I guess, not the one I just found. So it goes.

Fighter In Mirror Armor: It’s a fighter. Wearing mirrored armor that reflects spells, based on alignment. For example, chaotic magic used against lawful armor “is reflected back 50%”. I do not know if that means “reflected back half the time” or “reflects for half-effect on the caster”.

Flailtail: It’s got a big butt and I cannot lie. I am not making this up! It “backs into combat” and “its armor class is due to its massive buttocks”.

Foil Monster: Normally made of tin, but can be gold or silver. There’s no description of what it looks like, just what it’s made of and what its corpse is worth, which is so Old School I could just plotz. Since it’s listed as one of the “clean up crew”, a category containing all those creatures that wandered dungeon corridors for no good reason, including assorted slimes, oozes, and cubes, I’m going to say it looks like a giant foil ball that rolls at you. And then bites you.

Foulmouth: Rather disappointingly, this is not some kind of goblinoid that curses at you with such vigor that you take damage. Rather, it is an upright leprous aardvark with severe bad breath. Should go to San Francisco. There’s a New Age guru there who specializes in dealing with such problems. Surely, you’ve heard of the super California mystic, expert: Halitosis?

But, seriously, it’s a bipedal leprous aardvark with “miasma” breath. Clint Bigglestone’s uniquely brilliant insanity, again. I wish I could have met him.

Fuzzy: It’s a fur covered beholder with only the central eye, and about 2 feet in diameter, or, if you will, a hairy floating beachball with an eye. And tentacles, which can sting you, constrict you, or wield a weapon. The normal beholder central eye attack of “anti-magic ray” isn’t listed, but “psionic blast” is; it’s not clear if you’re supposed to just know that the central eye creates an anti-magic ray, or if the psi-blast replaces it (I am strongly inclined to the latter).  And why am I spending so much time thinking about the specific mechanics of a fur-covered mini-beholder?

PS: It is described as a “less imposing” version of the beholder. Yeah. You could say that.

And In Conclusion…

About 1200 words, covering four letters of the alphabet. Seems like a good length. Tune in… eventually… maybe even next week… for part III!

 

 

 

All The World’s Monsters, Volume 2 Part 1

All The World’s Monsters, Volume II, Part I

This One Has Bionic Unicorns

Seriously, What More Do You Need? Bionic Unicorns, Dude!

The backstory on All The World’s Monsters, the series (not to be confused with the movie, the web comic, or the stained glass windows) is located here, in the first part of the walkthrough of the first book. Thus, we shall omit going over it again.

Conventions From A Convention

Volume 2 has significantly more explanatory/framing material than Volume I. From a “history of paleolithic gaming” perspective, the most important is a codification of the Peterson Conventions — the “common law” rules used by many West Coast gamers. (I’ve gone at great length on the cultural differences between the Midwestern/Gygax style of early gaming, which has been a primary influence on the “Old School Renaissance” to the degree that everything else about the era has been dropped down the memory hole, and the West Coast style that is exemplified by the Arduin books, Booty And The Beasts, and this series we’re discussing right now.) The rules show some things that have been widely adopted, such as the shorter melee round (10 seconds in this case) and heavy armor reducing Dexterity (now a reduction in the maximum bonus), and some things that have not been, such as complex rules for determining action times (how long it might take to coat yourself with magic oil). These rules debuted at DunDraCon in 1976; both DunDraCon and Steve Perrin are still around and are major parts of gaming culture, (The highly percentile-based system he built on top of D&D’s D20-ish mechanics were, obviously, the genesis of Runequest, and through it, of Call of Cthulhu, which, in turn, inspired much of Lovecraft’s modern invasion of pop culture. From little oaks do mighty cultural monoliths grow. But I digress. Big shock.)

Some samples:

“How Long Does It Take To Apply Oil Of Slipperiness?” Is A Big Issue If You’re Using the BOEF D20 Supplement. Google it.

Perrin’s SCA Roots Show When Discussing Things Like Reach And Initiative. (Don’t Look For A Joke Or Pun. That’s Just A Comment.)

So, as I have said before, and as I shall say again:

I got your “Rulings, Not Rules”, right here, pal!

The Actual Monsters

Agarret: A ten foot tall mutant “distantly related to the goblins”, it impregnates you with its tongue. I could make another BOEF joke here but, really, why bother? Kind of obvious, even for me.

Oh, and its wings have lashes which work as whips.

Goodnight, everybody!

A Rare Image Of An Unexploded Air Shark

Air Shark: From the Arduin series. It’s a flying shark filled with hydrogen. Why don’t flying creatures ever evolve to be filled with helium?

Alacorn: A unicorn-pegasus crossbreed, created by “Charlie Luce”, which is an odd name for a six year old girl. I kid, I kid… believe me, I’ve done worse. It “resists magic” as a “sixth level mage”, which is odd, because they don’t really resist magic. (“You know what happens to a sixth level mage that gets hit by a magic missile? Same thing that happens to everything else. Except that since a sixth level mage will have about 15 hit points, the odds of it getting killed if it’s taken any other damage are pretty high.”) Perhaps they meant “saves vs. magic as a sixth level mage”? Or perhaps, in Mr. Luce’s games, spellcasters had special magic resistance? The “we forgot these are our house rules” phenomenon (doot-doodoot-doot) is endemic to the Burgess Shale era supplements I love.

Amanda: Last name, Hugginkiss. It’s a telepathic horse that emits a “mental wave” that has “the same range and direction” as a mind flayer’s psychic attack, but which is not a psychic attack. What is it, then? Hey, what is life without some mystery?

Ape, Man Eating: A giant ape with “a taste for human flesh and human females”, and no matter how you parse that description, it’s disturbing. Speaking of parsing: It rolls 1d6 for Intelligence, and “if its intelligence is three or above, it can use weapons other than a club at +2 damage”. So, it can use a club for normal damage (listed as 1d10 in the creature’s stat block), or something not a club, but with a +2 damage bonus? Then why not +2 with a club?

Aquazombie: It wears rotting orange chainmail and is laughed at by the other zombies because it speaks to dead fish.  Sorry. It’s not actually a zombie at all, but a victim of the alien slime god. Also known as “The Walking Wet”. No, that’s not my joke. That’s in the actual text. I am not making this up.

Barluk: A typical example of “something that is basically a self-propelled save-or-die”. It’s a green lizard that can walk on ceilings, with a petrifying gaze, and, if it touches you, you must save vs. magic or die of a putrefying (not petrifying) disease within five minutes. You can hear the DM saying “Go ahead, use your little reflecting shields!” in a mocking tone even now.

It Took Me Longer That You’d Think To Google This.

Bionic Unicorn: Rainbow Sparkle. Astrocorn. A unicorn barely alive. We can rebuild him. We have the technology. We have the capability to make the world’s first bionic unicorn. Rainbow Sparkle will be that unicorn. Better than he was before. Better. Stronger. Sparklier. With a lightning horn. (Yes, really. It can shoot lightning (6d6 damage) from its horn 24 times a day. Not once an hour, mind you, but 24 times a day.)

“Based on a Roger Dean illustration”, along with the Bionic Paladin and the Bionic Bat.

Black Death: Another of the brilliantly mad creations of the late Clint Bigglestone, this creature is not, in fact, a giant yersinia pestis bacterium (which would hardly be out of place in the West Coast gaming culture of the 1970s, mind you), but is an elephant-sized cross between a spider, bear, and squid, which has true seeing, hunts with “find the path”, and is immune to cold and confusion. Not to be confused with Manbearpig. I’m totally serial.

Blue Moon: A hovering blue sphere, about six feet in diameter, which can paralyze like a gelatinous cube. (So, a gelatinous sphere?) It is found hovering over graves, for some reason, and can be used by vampires as “an early warning system”.

Bunny, Vorpal: You’ve seen the movie. If you haven’t seen the movie, how the hell did you end up reading this?

And So We End…

I did the introduction and two letters. That’s enough for one day. You might notice I’m commenting on more creatures, so far, than I did in the prior article (which had two from the ‘A’ and four from the ‘B’, and no, you can’t have two extra egg rolls instead of the hot and sour soup, it says so right there on the menu). That’s not part of any conscious plan (conscious planning never enters into these articles, trust me). Perhaps there are more interesting monsters in this book (so far), or my personal “this is worth commenting on” bar is momentarily lower, I don’t know. I just read the book and call out anything I think is amusing, intriguing, unique, or informative. Give me the same book on a different week, and I might pick different creatures. Or not.

Anyway, hoping to get the next part by next week.

 

 

 

Starchildren Part II

Starchildren, Part II

Sex, Drugs, And Rock & Rolling Dice

Except… I Think You Use Cards In This?

Wow, There Goes That Headline Right Down The Pipes

OK. As we saw in our previous episode, aliens who though the 1970s were actually cool came to Earth in the 2070s, only to find an oppressive police state, which they are now trying to take down via the power of rock! Having spent all of the prior article going over the background, it is now time to create a character.

Be Ye Human, Or Be Ye Bishounen Alien Rocker?

First, we must choose our species. Because the point of these articles is to explore game systems, I’m going to go with Starchild, as that will give me access to the k00l p0werz…. erm, I mean, let me experiment with the full mechanics. Yeah.

As a Starchild, I get three “Backgrounds” (Humans get four.) There’s no specific rule limiting backgrounds by race, but “Businessman” and “Cop”, for example, don’t seem very appropriate to an alien with two years experience on Earth.

In many similar systems, “Performer” would be a catch-all for any kind of creative type, but, fitting the genre, Starchildren gives us Drummer, Bassist, Keyboardist, and Frontman backgrounds, among others. I like “Drummer”, as they’re described as being surly and belligerent (no stereotyping here, no sir!). The Drummer’s skills include “Percussion”, “Bludgeon”, and “Intimidate”.

Q: What do you call someone who hangs around with musicians?
A: A Drummer

Fitting with that default personality, I pick “Badass” for my second background. It is recommended that Badasses also take “Scrapper” to provide the combat skills needed to back up the bluster, so I’ll go for that.

Each background has 5 skills, which are ranked with on at 9, two at 7, and two at 5. The mechanics that give meaning to these ranks are not yet specified. If you don’t want to take all five skills, you can trade them for “Edges”.

Lessee.

Badass: Endure, Guts, Impress, Intimidate, Negotiate
Drummer: Bludgeon, Endurance, Intimidate, Percussion, Repair (Instrument)
Scrapper: Bludgeon, Brawl, Dodge, Slash, Throw

“Endure” is evidently a synonym for “Endurance”, probably a holdover from an earlier rules edit.

You can burn off one of your skill picks to raise the rank of another skill. This can be done when there are duplicate skills, (Such as Bludgeon, for me), or if you just don’t particularly want a skill or your character concept requires a higher starting rank.

I am strongly tempted to leave “Percussion” as my lowest-ranked skill, as it creates a kind of interesting concept… the drummer who is, in fact, not really good at drumming, but who is kept around by the band because he is really good at hitting people… which, in the grim future of the 21st century, is pretty useful.

So let’s see…

Presenting Thrash Beatnik

I’ll start with Bludgeon from Drummer at 9, then drop Endurance 9 from Badass to raise it to 10 and then use the Bludgeon I get from Scrapper to raise it to 11, losing my 9 from there, as well. That’s the highest a starting skill can get. I’m going to track which skills come from which background. Hopefully, I get it all correct.

Bludgeon: Jack (11) (Scrapper 9, Drummer 9, Endurance (Badass) 9)
Intimidate: 7 (Badass)
Brawl: 7 (Scrapper)
Endurance: 7 (Drummer)
Guts: 7 (Badass)
Dodge: 7 (Scrapper)
Percussion: 7 (Drummer) (I ended up not being able to drop it to 5, but now I can’t remember why. But here it is.)
Slash: 5 (Scrapper)
Throw: 5 (Scrapper)
Impress: 5 (Badass)
Repair (Instrument): 5 (Drummer)

Unspent:
Intimidate 5 (Drummer)
Negotiate 5 (Badass)

I didn’t spend one of my possible “Intimidate” skills in the hope of getting an Edge. Likewise, I dropped off Negotiate. I figure my character… who I am starting to think of as “Thrash Beatnik”… uses “Intimidate” as “Negotiate”. This gives me two unspent ranks for “Edges”.

Q. What does a drummer use for birth control?
A: His personality

Attributes, or, I Got Jack

There are eight attributes, four mental and four physical. Each pair is keyed a suit from a set of playing cards.

  • Diamonds: Presence and Appearance
  • Hearts: Wit and Speed
  • Spades: Perception and Agility
  • Clubs: Will and Body

I can assign ranks from a pool of Jack, 10, 8, 7,7,7,6,5. These are ordered highest to lowest, so, in Starchildren, “I got Jack” is actually a good thing. Starchildren are +2 ranks to Presence and Appearance, but -2 to Body and Will. This runs contrary to my concept of Thrash as a brawler, but, everything is relative, I guess. For a starchild, he’s a fighter.

So, Body gets Jack (as it were), which is downgraded to 9.
I’ll put 10 in Agility.
8 goes to Presence, +2 for 10.
7 into Will, -2 for 5.
Another 7 into Speed.
My last 7 into Perception.
6 for Wit
5 for Appearance, +2 =7.

So I end up like:
Presence: 10
Wit: 6
Perception: 7
Will: 5
Appearance: 7
Speed: 7
Agility: 10
Body: 9

Secondary Attributes, Or, There’s No Kill Like Overkill!

Now, secondary attributes:
My Speed is 7, so, I have 3 Action Cards, and my Movement is 4 walking/8 running.
My Body is 9, so my Trauma Threshold is 15, my Injury Threshold is 19, my Blackout Threshold is 39, and my Overkill Threshold 53.

Any game which includes an “Overkill Threshold” gets bonus points from me.

Q. What’s the difference between a government bond and a drummer?
A. Government bonds eventually mature and earn money.

Edges: I simply skipped two skill to get Edges. I dropped 2 5-rank skills.

I can get Feared, which gives me 1 Advantage Card for tests of a skill selected from a short, logical list. I pick “Intimidate”. For my other 5-rank, I select “Street Contacts”.

I also pick the Disadvantage “Usual Suspects” for 7. I can put this 7 into a skill or buy an edge with it. I will use it to buy “Flex”, which is a “Mojo”, or alien talent. Flex governs abilities related to altering ones own body, which seems like a good thing for someone like Thrash to have, even if most Starchildren just use it to give themselves magenta hair and rainbow spiral eyes like they were Pottersues.

Rocking Out

That’s basically it for character generation. It is worth at least mentioning the mechanics, though. As noted, they rely on playing cards. Except that the Ace is the low card, and Kings and Queens are reversed. Jokers are the wild card, and get +2 to kill Batman.

Everyone starts with a Hand of 5 cards, except The Man, who gets 7.

And here’s where it kind of gets tricky. Skill and Attributes each have suits. So, let’s go back to Thrash. Thrash has Jack in Brawl (yeah, I’m never going to get tired of that joke). The character sheet shows that Brawl is a “Clubs” skill, but it’s governed by Agility, which is a “Spades” skill.

If the card played matches the Trump suit for an attribute or skill, the value is equal to the rank of that attribute or skill. If it doesn’t match, it’s a “null” suit, so the value is your rank -3.

Then, The Man draws a number of cards equal to the difficulty of the test. The Man decides how difficult the test is, running from 1-5. Hopefully, examples are given. The Man then plays one of the cards they drew against you. If your score beats the card they played, you succeed. The rules note that The Man is not obliged to play the highest card they drew; they might give you a break. This provides an element of “sanctioned” GM fudging into the game; how much this appeals to you depends on how you feel about the Player/GM relationship in general. (It occurs to me that the harder the test, the more leeway The Man has to cheat… for an easy test, they draw only one card and so must play it, good or bad.) Nonetheless, the default assumption underlying the mechanics is that most of the time, the dice… erm… cards will fall where they may.

There’s also special rules for “really easy” tests, where The Man draws only one card, and the value on that card is reduced.

The Man and the player reveal their cards concurrently. If the player fails their test, they can “burn” a card, which gives them the value of that card on its face, regardless of the suit.

I don’t know how well this works in actual play, but it sounds like a decent enough system.

Opposed tests require that The Man play a card from his hand, and in this case, the suit matters. The Man is basically playing a hand for an NPC… sorry, an MC. The Man can also burn a card, just as a PC can.

Then, there’s “Boosts” and “Crashes”, or what more mundane, less rockin’, systems might call “critical successes and failures”, based on the degree of difference between the player’s card and The Man’s.

And there’s Advantage Cards. Thrash’s “Feared” Edge gives him one Advantage card when Intimidating something. This is essentially an extra card drawn when using that particular skill. Likewise, “Difficulty” cards are Advantage Cards granted to an opponent, either The Man or a fellow PC.

Finally, there’s “The Twist”. Twists are a form of metagame mechanics, akin to “bennies”, “hero points”, “action dice”, etc., allowing the player to gain bonuses, draw a new card, and so on.

Glam-Rock Alien Elvis Has Left The Building

And, that’s it for chargen and something of the mechanics. While it’s definitely odd, it’s not bad… there are no blatantly broken mechanics[1], pages of grammar/spelling/punctuation errors, or eye-bleedingly self-indulgent page layouts, despite this being a setting that could justify them. Other than the initial three chapter slog through setting material, it doesn’t hit too many of my eye-roll triggers. The art is a bit crude, hearkening back to some of the classic work from This Guy I Know (I miss his stuff in modern games), but it’s an effort from a tiny independent company which was trying to put out a hardcover book about alien rock stars at the peak of the D20 boom. No budget for art is forgivable.

If I ever see this being run at GenCon, I’ll sign up for it.

[1]Caveat: I haven’t actually played the game, and the interactions of the various systems outline above do not lend themselves to intuitive analysis of the actual odds of success or failure in casual play.

Starchildren

Starchildren : Velvet Generation

In The Grim Darkness Of The Third Millennium There Is Only Rock!

And/Or Roll!

And Judging From A Random Illustration, Jobs At McDonalds. Grim, Tyrannical, Oppressive, McDonalds.

So, Nothing New, Then?
I Dunno. Maybe The Burgers Are Made From Orphans, Or Something.
Groovy!

Groovy!

We’re (that’s me and my helper cats, who, at the moment, are actually helping by virtue of not being here) taking a break from RPGs produced in the 1970s to look at a game produced in the early 2000s that uses the cultural tropes of the 1970s for a game set in the 2070s. Got it? Good. Now, does the chalice from the palace have the pellet with the poison? No, that’s the flagon with the dragon.

The commentary in the Acknowledgments page informs us that although the game contains references to sex, drugs, and rock&roll, “XIG Games does not officially endorse any such activities except under guidance of a competent professional”. Oh, and the game contains a subliminal message when played backwards. So you start with characters getting wiped in a TPK and end by rolling them up?

I’m going to take the tongue-in-cheekness of the Acknowledgments into account when reading.

It Was Thirty Years Ago Today About 70 Years From When This Was Published

The introduction informs us that the world was changed when the first Starchildren came to Earth in 2071, and that we will join the action in 2073. Not bad — there’s enough time for the setting to establish itself, but not a huge amount of history to learn or hard-coded backstory for the part of the timeline the PCs are a part of. The Ministry of Music has begun “a terrifying crackdown on illegal and subversive rock music”. Damn, Voldemort must be back in charge. We are also introduced to the “Blue Army”, a violent splinter faction of Starchildren, and “the Osterberg Institute”, the “paranoid and xenophobic” scientists whose paranoia and xenophobia is based on nothing more than the fact aliens have landed, disguised themselves as humans, and started a mass movement to undermine the government. What a flimsy pretext! What are you gonna do? Haters gonna’ hate.

Working For The Man

Actually, The Man does all the work. That’s this game’s version of the GM. By the 2000s, the 90s trend of coming up with funky names for common parts of RPGs was dying like disco (see, this is a game about music, so, I made a music reference), but, much like the old man in Monty Python And The Holy Grail, it wasn’t dead yet. NPCs are “The Man’s character”, or “MC”. At least PCs are still PCs.

And I Want To Be A Paperback Writer…

“Chapters Two through Four of this book help bring the setting to life, and are written from the points of view of people who lived through it.”

In other words, I’ve got to slog through three chapters of fiction before I get to start creating a character. #FML.

Do you people appreciate what I do for you? The sacrifices I make? I could be losing another game of Civ VI, but noooooo, I’m reading this. Feh.

Part I

Our game published in real 2003 about a fictional 2073  that is inspired by the culture of real 2073 begins with excerpts from a book written in fictional 2091 about fictional 2073. There will be a quiz later. I’m going to try to summarize so we can get to the core of creating a character while still having some context as to what I’m creating.

In the 2040s, psychologists and sociologists decided that rock & roll was dangerous and subversive. I guess Tipper Gore won in the long run. The 2040s were an era of depression following a long war, class conflict, and economic despair, where the masses were desperate for simple solutions and the promise of a coming utopia following the removal of negative influences and dangerous ideas. Hm. Sounds familiar.

In 2047, violence erupted at a Times Square protest, and music was blamed. Within two years, music became a “controlled substance” in most of the world. The motto of the time was “Don’t insulate, isolate!”, meaning, instead of just tuning out or walking away if you heard something you didn’t like, all “negative influence” needed to be purged. Hmm. So, Tipper Gore and today’s campus activists won. Damn. This is one hell of a dystopia, I tell you what.

Various international bodies eventually merged into the global International Culture Correction and Control, or ICCC. The Ministry of Music (MoM) became known to the rebels as “Mad Mother”.  All unapproved items (i.e., anything anyone would want) became illegal contraband. If Grampa didn’t remember to toss out his old Justin Bieber CDs, it was curtains for him.

The music industry was reduced to peddling “New music”: Muzak on steroids, or maybe on sleeping pills — utterly bland, featureless, drivel. Radio was even worse… aw… that’s cute. In 2003, people believe radio would still exist in 2073. Thus, an era began of bootleg music, exploiting the vast demand for which there was no longer any legal supply. Capitalism, people. Ka-ching!

(Oh, the most popular legal entertainment is pinball… without any of the fancier modern features. Also, badminton and bowling. Kill me now.)

The “Rock Resistance” began in 2070 in New York City, at first a disorganized rabble that was regularly beaten up by the cops. They inspired copycats, and the movement started to spread. “Luckily, the Rock Resistance soon became Velvet, thanks to the dazzling inspiration and leadership of the Starchildren.”

Part II

The next chapter is in the form of a recording made by an undercover member of the ministry of music, with only the target’s side of the conversation recorded. This creates the illusion they are describing the world’s setting to you, the reader. Again, I’m mostly going to try to summarize enough to put what follows in context.

A reminder: I write these things linearly and extemporaneously, page by page. So when I finally get to chargen, I may end up backtracking.

A sidebar notes that in 2073, using a BBS(!) or the “increasingly risky internet” is a bad way to share music. Tangible media includes a 2″ disk which can store several days worth of high quality data, a data chip “about the size of a quarter”, or good ol’ vinyl. The term “tape” is used to refer to any musical media whatsoever, although no one uses actual tape.

“Dives” are where illegal musicians perform; “Record managers” are basically pimps (so, nothing’s changed), bribing cops and arranging gigs. Many have other illegal interests on the side.

Lots of various drugs, color coded for your convenience: Whitepills, Graypills, Blackpills, Redpills, etc.

We then get about two pages of details about how Velvet is organized and maintained, using a kind of ad-hoc networks assembled via portable servers and routers, along with a lot of what old folks like me call “sneakernet”.

We are also introduced to the concept of “Blackholes”: Starchildren, or something like them, working for the Ministry. And, as noted earlier, the Blue Army, the violent splinter faction of Velvet.

Part III

In which we finally get some background on the Starchildren. Yay. This takes the form of an interview with “Stainless Pakistan”, set in 2078. Trying to distill out the key points.

  • They (Starchildren) don’t “really distinguish between the sexes”.
  • Sex and food, as humans understand them, are “really alien”. Good lord, don’t get them mixed up.
  • Sex is for fun, but not how they reproduce.
  • They can’t get humans pregnant, they use clouds of spores that look like floating glitter.
  • They learned about Elvis, the Beatles, the Rolling Stones, etc., on their way to Earth.
  • They’d get away with their alien appearance by saying they were from France… I mean, “from somewhere else”.
  • They know little about their own homeworld; they were coming to Earth because it would be a better place.
  • They were really pissed when they arrived expecting the free-love 1970s and got the totalitarian 2070s. Like most immigrants, the reality of the promised land turned out to be far worse than the fantasy, but it was too late to pack up and go home.
  • No word on if the government of the time planned to build a wall and make the Starchildren pay for it.
  • They only live to about 40, and are impressed by humans’ long lifespans of 70+. This is a nice twist from the immortal aliens lamenting that humans come and go so quickly you can’t get to know them. It also reinforces the youth/rebellion nature of the setting.
  • Their “landing pods” decayed very rapidly in Earth’s atmosphere, rusting to junk in a few weeks.
  • Also, humans are physically stronger and have higher endurance. Again, a welcome change from the “better than you at everything” aliens that dominate the genre, and it’s good to see mechanics and backstory that reinforce the bishounen archetype that defines the particular musical genre that inspired the game. (Well, I’m assuming there will be mechanics. I will be… irked… if the rules do not match the setting. “Does what it says on the tin” is one of my cardinal rules of game design. If X is supposed to be good at Y, the game mechanics better make that happen.
  • There have been several references to “The Humanity Campaign”, which seems to be some sort of xenophobic genocide, but I haven’t seen it well defined yet… or I missed it on my first read. I’ll check back later.
  • The “Blackholes” were a clique aboard the ship; their parents had some disagreement with the parents of the Starchildren before Stainless Pakistan was born.

OK, the text gets more text-y at this point, and so will I.It all started in 1972, when radio and TV signals from Earth reached a world “billions of light years away” — they acknowledge the impossibility of this, but there’s no in-world explanation for the phenomenon. The transmissions lasted only five years… again, no explanation why… but transformed the alien world.

Enraptured by Earth music, they built a generation ship and set out for a fifty year journey. Those born on the ship would become the Starchildren, naturally.

They originally planned to arrive in a public display, but after seeing what Earth had become, made multiple clandestine landings in various wildnerness areas, then set out to the big cities, instruments in tow.

Their bodies are mostly human-seeming, but these are not their native species’ form… that is unknown, even to them. They have an unearthly mien to them, being pale, slightly blue, and unusually thin. They can also perform minor alterations to their form, to look more human, or to create cosmetic changes to skin tone, hair length and color, or fingernails. The very skilled can use this ability to heal wounds.There are no Starchild country musicians.

And so we get to Chapter 5… page 37 out of 124… before the chargen starts. I think we’ll do that in Part II.

All The World’s Monsters, Volume 1 Part 4

All The World’s Monsters, Volume I

Part IV

That’s The Funny One With The Whales, Right?

No, This Is The One With The Killer Pinecone In It

Yes, Really

Welcome back, after a long absence, to what ought to be the last part of the first part of the walkthrough of All The World’s Monsters, Volume I. The penultimate part is here, and the antepenultimate part is here, and this useless spell checker doesn’t know that “antepenultimate” is a word. It totally is. It means “the sister of one of penultimate’s parents”. Duh.

Having just covered hybrid crabs/WW1 helmets, we move on to…

Random Horror: Insert 2016 Presidential election joke here.

An evolutionary step between the wandering monster table and the wandering damage table.

An evolutionary step between the wandering monster table and the wandering damage table.

Razortongue: A gorilla-sized koala bear with steel-hard fur. Yes, really.

Just like it says on the tin.

Just like it says on the tin.

The razortongue is one of the many creations of the prolific Clint Bigglestone, who was evidently part of the gaming circle of a certain George R. R. “Are You Finishing The Damn Series” Martin, as a character by the hardly-common name of “Clint Bigglestone” appears in one of Martin’s early stories.

Shaggy: A huge (man size, I guess, though it’s not specified precisely) tribble. Which secretes adhesive glue. And when it attaches itself to you, it sucks out life levels. Not to be confused with a monster-hunting stoner.

Shaggy Beast: A snake-headed bull with green fur. Said fur is full of stingers that will kill you in two turns if you fail a save. It can also breathe fire. Why not?

Shrew, Giant: Insert “mother in law” joke here.

Skull, Flying: The “poor man’s liche”, sometimes called the “Obamalich”, even though the program actually started under Bush. It looks “just like you would expect, a skull with wings”. I generally don’t expect winged skulls, but anyway. It can use spells, but there is a “spell level/8” chance it will be destroyed when it does. I’m going to interpret that as an “X in 8 chance”, that is, if it’s a 4th level spell, roll a D8, and if it’s 4 or less, the skull dies. Re-dies. Double secret dies.

Starling: Not a cute little bird. This starling is a giant mutant starfish, where each tentacle has a unique, deadly, power. Kind of like a beholder, except with tentacles instead of eye beams. It has seven tentacles, and their powers include constriction, petrification, cold damage, poison, and “squirting ink”. The “constricting” tentacle can extend for up to 100 feet, and this is getting way too hentai for me. Next!

Stormquill: Another of Mr. Bigglestone’s visionary creations, this is a “gorilla sized ankliosaurus(sic)”. It has 12 quills on the clublike end of the tail, which, when flung, transform into lightning bolts that attack as a heavy crossbow fired by a Champion. (You can tell the really old school stuff, from the first few years of D&D, by use of the “attacks as a (level name here)” trope.

Stun Cone: A giant killer pinecone. Look, I told you it was in here. Why did you not believe me? Why? Now look what you’ve done in your foolish ignorance and defiance!

See? Killer Pinecone. Not A Metaphor. Not An Exaggeration. Not A Dream, Hoax, Or Imaginary Story.

See? Killer Pinecone. Not A Metaphor. Not An Exaggeration. Not A Dream, Hoax, Or Imaginary Story.

Thundertread: Found in the deepest levels of dungeons, it is “hideous and virtually indescribable”. And… that’s its description.

DM: You encounter a thundertread! It’s hideous and indescribable!
Player: What does it look like?
DM: I just told you, it’s indescribable.
Player: But what do our characters see?
DM: Something they can’t describe.
Player: (Sighs) Does it have hit points?
DM: Yes.
Player: Then screw the flavor text, we can kill it.

Tiger, Blink Saber-Tooth: When a blink dog and a saber tooth tiger love each other very much…

Next time someone who wasn’t even born until after AD&D 2e came out whines that they hate D&D 3.x or Pathfinder because “all the stupid templates let them make up these weird hybrid monsters instead of sticking to the glorious, sacred purity of genuine creatures from myth and legend like in the Good Old Days”, show them the blink dog/sabre-tooth tiger crossover, then laugh at them. A lot. They need to be laughed at.

Tumble Tangle: A tumbleweed-like plant that often travels among them, until it finds food. It then attacks and attempts to entangle and devour the victim. Given that I created the very similar “tumblebleed” for Earth Delta, I’ve got no moral high ground here.

Unalhit: A six legged hairy octopus demon. Heh. “Hairy octopus”. Know what I mean, wink wink, nudge nudge, say no more?

Voltree: Comes in five colors; when danger threatens, all the voltrees spend time getting their asses.. erm… trunks handed to them for ten minutes before finally remembering that can combine to form an all-powerful robot tree that… no, wait. This is a weeping willow with silver leaves that can electrocute passers-by. Based on a story by Eric Frank Russel.

Vuun: A fifty-foot giant bat, with psychic powers. “Very rare”, with only one colony remaining in a network of caves in the walls of a volcanic crater. I’m not even going to ask how a creature with a 50 foot wingspan navigates inside the tunnels.

War Wheel: It’s a living creature shaped like a giant wheel that will… oh, just read it.

Man, If You Could Figure Out How To Put A Saddle On One Of These...

Man, If You Could Figure Out How To Put A Saddle On One Of These…

I can kind of imagine the in-world arguments over what to call it, akin to the debate over “soda” or “pop”. (Soda, you morons) or “Sub”, “Hero”, “Grinder”, etc. (Sub or Hero. Grinder? Please.)

Water Sucker: Someone who pays 3.99 for a bottle of “Pure Glacier Mountain Spring Organic GMO Free Water” that’s bottled in Spokane from the local pipes. Also, a kind of armadillo thing that drains water like a stirge drains blood.

Weasel, Giant: Insert 2016 Presidential election joke here, too.

Were-Hellhound: There is a 25% chance it can use magic in human form and one-third of the magic-using were-hellhounds will be Priests of Roofdrak. No, I do not know what a Priest of Roofdrak is. I mean, yeah, I can guess, it’s a priest, that worships Roofdrak. That’s helpful. Not. Also, it will only work with were-coldcats if it has a good reason to. No, “were-coldcat” is not in this book. Nor could I find “Cat, cold” or “Coldcat”. Old School!

Were, Anti: At first, I read this as “were, ant”, which makes as much sense as anything else, but, no… an “anti-were” is like a were wolf, bear, etc., except that it’s immune to silver and magic weapons but is harmed by normal iron ones. This is a fairly typical trope for the era. Back when “player skill, not feats and stats” mattered, “player skill” consisted of memorizing every rulebook one could find, and ignoring things like “but your character has never met a werewolf, how does it know what’s effective?” And so, there was an eternal arms race, and “trick monsters”, which looked like typical members of a species but had altered or reversed weaknesses, were one of the primary weapons in the arsenal.

Witch Tree: Which tree? That tree! That one, right there. The one that’s trying to kill you. Forests in a typical D&D world are not exactly safe havens. I suppose the number of giant, poisonous magical scorpion-tailed creatures that roam the woodlands makes sense if you consider that “the woodlands” are themselves highly predatory.

Worm, White: A hundred-foot long worm that dwells in polar climates. It will devour anything that is not fuzzy, because, and I swear I am not making this up, it is very ticklish on the inside.

X-Ray Beast

The Next Time Someone Tells You The Flumph Was The Most Ridiculous Monster Ever, You Just Show Them This

The Next Time Someone Tells You The Flumph Was The Most Ridiculous Monster Ever, You Just Show Them This

Yes, it’s a one-eyed hippo which shoots an x-ray beam that does 3d6 radiation damage and would give a +2 on Heal checks to detect cancer, if there had been skills back then. For some random reason, it’s immune to fire.

Zanth: Six legged wolf-komodo-lizard. That is the entirety of the descriptive text. A fittingly old-school ending for this entry in the series.

A Plethora Of Perilous Potions

A Plethora Of Perilous Potions

Well, with onezero days to go in RPG Bloggers October theme of “potions”, I decided to create some. This isn’t as polished as I’d like, even by my low standards, but I want to get it live… or undead, as it were… before the deadline.

Potions, at least in Pathfinder, tend to come in three varieties: Healing, Buffing, and I Forgot I Had This What Am I Carrying It Around For? There’s a game design reason for this, or, rather, there’s a “game design caused an unexpected emergent property” reason for this. Potions in 3.x/PF are a spell delivery mechanism. They allow a magic-using character to store the effect of a spell and give it to someone without the appropriate ability. (Contrast wands and scrolls, which, rogues with high UMD skill aside, serve to enhance the casters themselves.) Outside of healing and buffing, though (and I consider various resist/protect spells in the “buff” category), the majority of the low level spells which can be put into potions are highly situational (so that you’re not likely to carry around a potion of sunder breaker just in case you run into some NPC that the GM, for malicious reasons, built as a sundering machine. (Yeah, I looked for a particularly situational spell for that one. Cherry picking for the win!)

For these, I wanted to go beyond potions as spell-delivery mechanism, to unique-ish concepts that, to my mind, work well conceptually as single use, ingestible, magics. I also wanted to be sure the effects were sufficiently “magical” that they wouldn’t work better as “mere” alchemy. (In my own personal “physics of magic”, alchemy works by drawing out the innate magical properties of some materials, enhancing, concentrating, or amplifying existing natural aspects to create effects beyond what simple chemistry could achieve. Potions, on the other hand, use the innate qualities of particular substances to serve as a matrix into which the power of a spell can be bound and contained. The process can also distort the nature of the magic slightly, allowing potions which do not precisely mimic a spell to exist. This is also how most magic items are made. Look at the requirements for mirrored armor. Spell turning does not make things shiny and reflective, but aspects of the spell’s effect are incorporated into the armor to give it its particular powers.

Distillation Of Memory

An unusual concoction that contains the full memories of a particular event in a being’s life. When consumed, the experience is transferred instantly; the drinker remembers as if it had happened to them. This can be a confusing and disorienting experience, as the rush of sensation is overwhelming; a DC 15 Will save is needed or the drinker is dazed for one round. Creating the distillation requires the living being from whom the memory is to be drawn, and they must either be willing or helpless. These potions can be used to transfer knowledge, such as a password, or to communicate events without setting them in writing, or to share an important experience.

In some cultures, distilled memories are a black market item, enjoyed by decadent elites who can vicariously experience others lives.

Requirements: Share Memory. Cost: 300 gp minimum per minute, can go up considerably based on what the memory is of. A single dose of the distillation can contain up to 10 minutes of experience.

Jellybones Potion

This potion comes in an assortment of colors: Black, green, ochre, and grey being the most common. When the potion is imbibed, the drinker’s body becomes soft and malleable, though they retain full cohesion overall. This has the following effects:

  • They gain the ability to move through areas half their size with no penalty, and 1/4 their size with the usual squeezing penalty.
  • They have a +5 enhancement bonus to escape artist checks.
  • They gain DR 2/slashing or piercing.
  • They ignore the first 10′ of falling damage.

The effects of the potion last from 1-10 minutes, determined randomly when it is used. If the potion wear off when the character is in a space too small for them to squeeze through normally, they take 4d6 crushing damage. (And may be stuck there until rescued, if there’s no safe space to move to.)
Requirements: Beast Shape, Cat’s Grace. Cost: 750 gp

Preemptive Panacea

A particularly useful draught, this potion provides resistance to effects that haven’t happened yet! Upon drinking, the magic remains in quiescent state, until it is triggered by need. Then, it takes effect as any of the following: lesser restoration, neutralize poison, remove disease, or remove sickness. The potion is effective for a full day, or until triggered.
Requirements: lesser restoration, neutralize poison, remove disease, and remove sickness Cost: 1400 gp.

A Brief Digression Into Media

A brief digression? On this blog? Shocking!

Not the digression part; the brief part.

Just so we’re clear.

Still milking the multiple header gag, I see. Sigh.

Still metacommenting on yourself, I see. You can go blind doing that.
Saw Miss Peregrine’s Home For Peculiar Children. I enjoyed it, but (no spoilers), it showed me how spoiled I’ve become by long-form arc-style TV series. In order to fit every plot point into a two hour movie, it, like many other genre films, had to do this:
“Hi, audience! Here’s a nice case of guns. We’re going to put one on this mantelpiece, one on this mantelpiece, and one on this mantelpiece. Don’t worry, they’ll all be fired. Oh, but there are some surprises. Here, here’s a nice red herring. We’ll be sure to label it “red herring” for you, not that you need it labelled, since there’s really only room for one and it’s not like we can devote a lot of time to it.”
 
Long form TV allows for more subtle planting, slower exhibition, time to build up plot threads that genuinely don’t look like false leads because they’re given the same nurturing as others. The writers can assume the audience (well, those who really care) will binge, freeze-frame, and discuss details endlessly, and this allows them the freedom to put in things someone might miss or overlook, then see on a second viewing or be made aware of by a recap or discussion. On the other hand, a major plot point that’s too subtle in a movie leads to angry viewers who feel ripped off or confused, and people generally don’t watch a movie multiple times, they can’t freeze it or back it up.
 
Technology changes storytelling. The medium isn’t the message, but the medium alters what message you might wish to send.
 
(Babylon 5 is sort of the Archaeopteryx in the coalmine, to mix metaphors like a horse in a barrel. It will likely be looked on as the first great hybrid of episodic and arc storytelling on television.)