The
topic of this post is quite explicitly stolen from Ben Milton's
excellent video with a similar title
(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l4F67RFcW6E&t=4s).
His version is more fun, better produced, and better thought-through
than mine; but I'm lazy, so here we are.
If
D&D is at its best – its very best, its primal best – when it
involves players genuinely discovering the unknown, and DMs being
spurred to real creative endeavour, then the world a game is set in
is important. If every element of that world is predictable, then
there is no discovery for the players, and the only creative impetus
for the DM is one of rebellion against the staid world.
So
here are five settings for you to get stuck into that will, I think,
give players journeys of discovery and give DMs plenty to chew on.
All five are nominally designed for old-school versions of D&D,
chiefly versions of Basic/Expert (“B/X”) and 1st
Edition AD&D; though you can fairly easily port a lot of that
across to 5th
Edition, it may be worth your while to get the free PDFs of B/X
Essentials
(https://www.drivethrurpg.com/browse/pub/5606/Necrotic-Gnome/subcategory/28663/B-X-Essentials)
and work from there.
(Yes,
often the best setting is the one you design yourself. There's your
caveat. But some poor uncreative types like me find the work of
others a great aid.)
#1
– Hill Cantons by Chris Kutalik
Have you witnessed the pilgrimage
of the Soldier Bears? Do you dare deal with the otherworldly Eld,
those dreadful half-Eldar-half-David-Bowie fashion victims? And will
you sell your loot to Fraza the Curio Dealer, who is entirely honest
– good for pricing your goods, bad when his deep-seated racism has
cause to emerge?
The Hill Cantons (available from
Hydra Cooperative,
https://www.drivethrurpg.com/browse/pub/7124/Hydra-Cooperative?term=hydra+&test_epoch=0)
is an acid fantasy setting designed for Labyrinth
Lord.
In the published range there are currently three books (Slumbering
Ursine Dunes, Fever-Dreaming Marlinko, and
Misty Isles of
the Eld)
and two cosmology PDFs. There's another one – the excellently-named
What Ho, Frog
Demons
– coming soon (I think the art was fixed over the summer). What's
so good about the Hill Cantons?
It's
funny. The world will make both DM and players laugh. Everything is
memorable, shot in technicolour. The locations are great – how
about a crashed dimensional organic sailing barge made of gold full
of religious ghouls? The NPCs are vivid – see Fraza above. The
“monsters” are distinctive – do you even know what a Reverse
Centaur is?
It's
a world that's inspired me. I made a level of a dungeon set in this
world, and it's about the most anarchically funny thing I've written.
Twice players have assiduously sought out a hexagonal metal coin to
activate the canopied table they found in the first level of the
dungeon – and then laughing realization has dawned on them as a
display lights up on the canopy, a drawer slides out with a disc and
two flat-bottomed hand-tools, and the table begins to hum.
#2
– Veins of the Earth (and Deep Carbon Observatory) by Patrick
Stuart
Veins of the Earth is the
Underdark rebooted, turned into a mythic underworld. It's available
in PDF at Drivethrurpg, and the printed version (a beautiful
hardback) is available at a slightly above-the-odds price at Amazon.
The book contains a lot of practical ideas and notes for running
games in the Underdark, especially focussed round things like
climbing, encumbrance in closed spaces, and generating caves as you
go, but the “setting” is chiefly defined for me by the array of
monsters and adventuring ideas.
Currency consists of light. Want
to buy something? Away with your surface gold! That'll be 20 lumes,
please – that is, 20 hours worth of light, in whatever combination
of oil, torches, and phosphorescent fungus you like. Oh, initiative
rolls are limited to those who carry light – those who are in the
pool share that initiative. Everyone else is at initiative 0.
There are impossibly noble,
chivalrous travelling knights who are also sentient humanoid
trilobites. They cannot speak. There are sinister pseudo-humans with
great knots in their stomach, offering fantastic loans at
unconscionable prices, constantly seeking their “lost” children.
The duergar are rebuilt as the model of an efficient work ethic, to
the point of society-wide sociopathy.
This has become the default
Underdark for my Haughty Fantasy games. I carry plenty of stuff over
from other sources, of course – this is DIY DnD – but the idea of
an alien, disturbing underworld is key.
I mention the standalone
adventure Deep Carbon Observatory
as well because it explicitly connects to a Veins-like Underdark, and
the same brooding sense of sorrow intermixed with tear-inducing
wonder runs throughout.
Also,
the author can write.
“A
spider that walks across your outstretched hand might tell itself a
tale of what you are. It does not know. There are veins beneath the
skin it takes to be the whole. The world you think you know is
nothing but a shell, a thin carapace over the skin of the, deeper,
unbound world below.
You
have existed, up to this point, on the illusion of a plane, bordered
by mountains, rivers, seas or the politics of maps, and this life has
been a lie. Its borders are made up, its seas are gateways, its
mountains are cradles of deep life. There is no plane. You were
raised within a history running
back
through recorded time, written in ink, carved in stone, scooped from
clay, hidden in songs. Your primal myths are an eyeblink of the
memory of that place. Your history is a candle burning out.
The
real world, the deeper, more true world, is bordered only by light
above and fire below, and perhaps not even by that.”
#3
– Dolmenwood by Matthew Norman and Greg Gorgonmilk
Do you like Jonathan Strange
and Mr Norrell? What about Neil
Gaiman? This is that. Currently published in 8 'zines – Wormskin
#1-8, available in PDF and POD on DrivethruRPG – and in an
adventure, The Weird That Befell Drigbolton,
there's a campaign book coming soon. The zines are nice artefacts,
and full of gameable material – though there's flavourful detail,
the text is also as terse as it needs to be. Cross-referencing across
'zines is a little awkward, but not impossible. It's worth it.
The
Dolmenwood is a mythic forest which can slot into your fantasy
setting or into late medieval/early modern England or wherever else,
really. It's full of alien and dangerous fae, strange forest glades,
strange and wondrous magic treasures, civilised yet sadistic goatmen,
and country bumpkins who know more than they're telling you. There
are also sentient badger wizards, so...
The
“monsters” are distinctive (e.g., Neutral-aligned undead people
who are flocks of ravens but mostly just like collecting weird
stuff), and as in all the best settings, you can talk to them all,
pretty much. The old-school style leans a lot on interaction with
NPCs, because combat is very dangerous (cf Combat as War vs Combat as
Sport), and this setting builds very intentionally towards that. I
can't think of a single forced combat across the 'zines, even in the
two-issue dungeon (The Abbey of St Clewd).
The
setting also is generally successful in walking a fine line over
“weird stuff”. The setting is full of weird stuff, and bounds
into that dark fantasy horror territory sometimes, but always with a
profound sympathy for actual people. It's not gratuitous. This is
rare, and important; and it's the sort of quality that translates at
the table, when the DM is sensitive to it.
#4
– Against the Wicked City by Joseph Manola
None of this is formally
published, which is a pity; it's all on Joseph's blog. The upside to
the lack of books is that it's all free! You can find the collated
information here:
http://udan-adan.blogspot.com/p/against-wicked-city.html.
Joseph's own simmary:
“ATWC is
a fantasy role-playing game about adventurers struggling to free a
city from tyranny and corruption. It’s about other things too –
there’s a whole world out there, containing everything from
underwater cities of green glass to killer robots built by insane
toad-men – but the core idea is right there in the title. There’s
a great city. This city has fallen into wickedness. It’s up to you
to set the people free.
In terms of its thematic underpinnings, ATWC is a game of romantic clockpunk fantasy with a setting inspired by early modern central Asia.”
In terms of its thematic underpinnings, ATWC is a game of romantic clockpunk fantasy with a setting inspired by early modern central Asia.”
The
most important word in there for me is “romantic”, which Joseph
defines thus:
“Romantic, insofar
as this is fundamentally a game about love and hope and courage and
our capacity to triumph over corruption. The Wicked City is
a horrible, horrible place, and horrible, horrible things are done
there; but ATWC does
not assume that the struggle against such horror and evil is
necessarily a hopeless one, and my expectation is that any
long-running ATWC campaign
will end with the liberation of the Wicked City from
the bondage of evil which afflicts it.
As written, this is not a cynical game; but it is a game which is enormously sceptical of the redemptive power of violence. (That's why I'm running it with OSR D&D, which ensures that violence is usually a terrible idea!) The evil of the Wicked City cannot simply be stabbed until it falls over and dies; defeating it will require the ability to connect with and unite a whole variety of people and communities, all of them more-or-less damaged and mistrustful, and this in turn will ultimately be possible only through an effort of empathy. (There may also be quite a lot of stabbing along the way, though.) If you think all that sounds like feelgood hippie bullshit, then please feel free to run it as a grimy horrorshow in which evil always triumphs, or as a straightforward tale of national salvation through heroic bloodshed; but the assumption, throughout, has been that this is really a game about love.”
As written, this is not a cynical game; but it is a game which is enormously sceptical of the redemptive power of violence. (That's why I'm running it with OSR D&D, which ensures that violence is usually a terrible idea!) The evil of the Wicked City cannot simply be stabbed until it falls over and dies; defeating it will require the ability to connect with and unite a whole variety of people and communities, all of them more-or-less damaged and mistrustful, and this in turn will ultimately be possible only through an effort of empathy. (There may also be quite a lot of stabbing along the way, though.) If you think all that sounds like feelgood hippie bullshit, then please feel free to run it as a grimy horrorshow in which evil always triumphs, or as a straightforward tale of national salvation through heroic bloodshed; but the assumption, throughout, has been that this is really a game about love.”
If
I'm honest, reading that almost makes me cry. You can keep your
stylish storygames with complex and intelligent mechanics for
navigating teenage romance; I'll take my six boring ability scores
and a random assortment of items, because, out on the steppes of the
Wicked City, “this is really a game about love”. Magnificent.
The
copious rules material supports that, by the way. You start with five
classes available to players: the Fighter (the only person who's much
good at combat, and who can automatically bust down any normal door);
the Scholar (who knows any mundane fact required of her); the
Traveller (who never gets lost); the Trickster (who is a bit of a
rogue but can also charm his way into any party he wants); and the
Noncombatant (who enemies always ignore til after they've smashed
someone on the head with a vase, and who can nearly always escape
imprisonment). You don't start with wizards and clerics. You start
with classes that are 1) all just great at something – automatic
successes at the thing they're expert at; 2) modelled towards social
interaction and lateral problem-solving. Each class also has
equipment tables, which you roll on to see what you get. Two examples
from the d6 table for the Scholar:
*Clockworker's
gear:
Sturdy leather work clothes (treat as heavy leathers, +3 AC), locked
box full of delicate tools, another locked box containing a
half-finished machine that you're currently tinkering with, pocket
watch, 3d6x10 sp.
*Historian's
gear: Comfortable travelling coat (treat as leather jacket, +1
AC), 1d3 books, 1d6 tiny but intriguing ancient artifacts, locked box
containing in-progress historical manuscript, charcoal for sketching,
paper and ink, 3d6x10 sp.
No
starting weapons for the scholar (other classes are slightly better
off). Their equipment load, instead, all creates stories and hijinx.
The clockworker's delicate tools have all sorts of uses. So does the
pocket watch. And you need to complete that machine. The historian
has charcoal and weird artifacts, and wants to find out stuff to
finish their book. This is great.
Proper D&D stories well up from a guy with no real combat ability
and a random assortment of starting items.
There
are other classes. Players unlock them. By becoming their friends.
Want to be a Disciple of the Word, shouting words of divine power in
service of your god? How about a Brass Man, a clockwork person
following the semi-mythical Cogwheel Sage? Befriend them. Serve their
needs, aid them in their hour of trial. This is a story
about love.
The
monsters are weird and inspired by Central Asian mythology. There are
loads of tables to generate content on, including frankly the best,
most sensitive presentation of religion in an RPG I've seen. There
are two adventures – one is a dungeon environment which very much
plays to the strengths of the setting, one is an investigation
adventure. I've run both, they're both good. And all of this is free.
#5
– Ultraviolet Grasslands by Luke Rejec
Currently
available as a limited overview document on DriveThru and for Patreon
supporters of Luka Rejec
(https://www.patreon.com/wizardthieffighter/posts).
It's heading to Kickstarter. Luka does art for the Hill Cantons
books, but he's also a marvellously creative writer. I haven't got
UVG to the table yet, but I've loved reading it. This is Luka's
summary:
“The
Ultraviolet Grasslands (UVG) is a rules-light rpg pointcrawl
module inspired by psychedelic heavy metal, the Dying Earth genre,
and Oregon Trail games. It takes a group of ‘heroes’ into
the depths of a vast and mythic steppe filled with the detritus of
time and space and fuzzy riffs.”
Or
again:
“A
world begins when it emerges from the mists of time. So it is with
the civilizations of the Rainbowlands, which mark their count from
when the Long Ago ended and the Now began.
The
Rainbowlanders are the humans of a later era, undisputed masters of
the fertile lands around the Circle Sea, dwellers in the Eye of
Creation. They come in many shapes, colors, creeds, and faiths. They
pile unkempt technology and misremembered lore together into a
teetering whole. They rule the settled lands under their polychrome
deities of ill-repute.
This
story is not their story. This story begins at the edge of their
world, at the Left End of the Right Road. At the westernmost outpost
of humanity, the Violet City. Bastion against the hordes, entrepĂ´t
to the exotic sunset lands, and last port of civilization before the
trackless steppe studded with the detritus of the Long Ago.
The
last glimmer of the Rainbow before the skinblistering glow of the
Ultraviolet Grasslands.”
So
you travel long distances, possibly in futuristic RVs. You go to
weird, confusing locales. You salvage ancient technology and try to
piece together the past. You meet, uh, interesting people and try not
to go slightly mad from the interaction.
On
the Catlords of the Violet City: “The Purple God(dess), divinity of
magic, and most prominent deity of the Violet City has a fondness for
cats. Indeed, cats are the rulers of the Purple Land, running it
through their doting human servants.”
The
Porcelain Princes are “Not-quite-liches who seek immortality by
spreading their vital cognitive essence among several bodies linked
by real-time glandular psyche-to-psyche links. Customarily, they each
polybody entity uses the same porcelain masks for every one of its
drones.”
There are some great
light rules for running your caravans on their long journeys –
simple ways of dealing with rations and so forth. The locations are
fascinating. How about the Grass Colossus?
“Crossing a last
purple ridge, the wide vale promised respite from the harsh
grassland. Trees dotted the courses of two rivers, and at their
juncture prehistoric ramparts of pitted ceramic, traces of pre-wizard
spell-arms on their ancient shellac surface.
Inside, on one of two
hillocks, a great wicker-man of woven grasses, vines and thorn
bushes. Shamans of many clans make their meets here, teach their
memory chants, and welcome the clan mothers once a year for the
festivals of the Circle of Grass.”
Which is as much of a
proof as you'll need to know that some of the best writers of fantasy
today are creating elfgames on the internet.
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