Saving Throw Derivation and System Assumptions in Old School Games

I’ll try to keep this brief. Saving Throws have been present in five of the six main iterations of D&D (Original/Basic, 1e, 2e, 3e, and 5e), and represent active avoidance of dangers, where AC represents a more passive defence. Really, of course, the two blend – AC represents dodging, and Save vs Spells/Will Saves represent mental endurance and resilience as well as active defence (thus Dwarven resistance).
 
An interesting insight into the mechanical assumptions behind different D&D editions is achieved via looking at how Save values are derived (or, indeed, in 4e, how non-AC defences are derived).
 
In OD&D, Basic, 1e, and 2e, there is one key defensive stat derived from an Ability Scores: AC. Raw AC is improved by a Dexterity-derived moodier. Having high Dexterity means you dodge better. You can then add on armour, shields, and so forth. The other defensive stats – the five Saving Throws – are not derived from Ability Scores, but by Class. (Save vs Spells is often altered by a Wisdom-derived modifier, but not always; in 2e, Save vs Death/Poison can be altered by a Constitution-derived modifier, but only vs Poison, and only with very high Con.)
 
You can very often get the “base” class you want, given the core Ability Score requirement for the four “core” classes which define Saves (Fighter, Wizard/M-U, Thief, Priest/Cleric) is 9 in the relevant Score. If there is any choice about arranging Scores, a player can basically guarantee entry into their choice of the core four.
 
Now, in practice, old school Save arrays are sometimes a bit abstract – why is this class better than that class at this slightly vague Save category? There’s a lot to like in the threefold Save system of 3^rd Edition (lese-majesté!). But the essential point I want to make is: early editions actually put a big choice in the player’s hands. The newer systems flatten that out (though free stat arrangement means that in 5e people focus on Wis and Con Saves rather than Str or Int).
 
This leads, I think, to two conclusions: Firstly (and this is fairly uncontentious), class differentiation is more important in old school systems than base statistical differentiation. Secondly, I think old school systems often *do* emphasize player customisation in a way that gets neglected in some of our discussions. I’ll probably write on this more soon, when I defend 2e Kits (gasp!).

The Gygax Time Machine, Part 5: New Players and AD&D

A player has joined our 1^st Edition game, playing a Half-Orc Fighter and a Human Barbarian (Dragon magazine version). He’d never played any RPGs before, including computer games. He’s played two sessions so far: one session in the Workshop of the Gnome Artificers, which was mostly a combat; and an investigative session in Hommlet, finding the saboteur who was slowing down the building of Burne’s castle.
 
He’s a smart guy, and so at that level it’s not surprising he grasped key concepts quickly. But I was struck at just how quickly and easily he picked things up. Of course, I was front-loading a lot of the work – he had well laid-out character sheets (using Anthony Huso’s macro-enabled custom sheets), he had a simple character, he had a fairly straightforward situation (combat in a fairly simple room vs fairly simple opponents, two Automata of different types).
 
But nonetheless, isn’t AD&D hard? Isn’t it inferior to Basic or 5e when it comes to introducing new players?
 
Well, look, probably. Certainly it’s literally more complicated than Basic, and so when you’re showing a new player their character sheet there’s more to get wrong in Advanced. (As a very easy example, Advanced uses different damage codes vs Small/Medium and Large opponents for each weapon. When you tell a new player “here is what damage your weapon does” in Advanced, you are teaching them twice the information in Basic, or, indeed, 5e.)
 
But it’s a fairly small percentage increase in complexity in practical terms. The basic concept you’re teaching – “you are an adventurer exploring a ruin looking for treasure, or investigating industrial sabotage” – is simple and intuitive. You tell the player they can try to do whatever they think their character could do or try in that situation. You emphasize that player exploration, investigation, and skill are the priority – so it’s an information game where the player has to ask questions about the environment. You perhaps tell them “often you use a d20 to check for success, aiming to roll high; sometimes you roll a d100 for the same purpose; sometimes you use other dice for other reasons”. What else do they need to know before setting off? Well, maybe the sort of character they’re playing. “He’s a tough warrior who can fire his light crossbow from a distance and use a halberd or longsword up close.” The new guy is ready to play.
 
And that basically was enough. Of course there was emergent teaching, too – what weapons are good against what armour, how do you position yourself well in combat (for AD&D I try to use minis and maps), and so forth. When the need for a Saving Throw actually comes up, you explain the general concept (but that’s an easy mechanic to learn). You have to teach the combat round, but again, how hard is that? “Each side rolls a d6 for Initiative. Whoever rolls higher goes first. I’ll assign speeds to what you’re doing. Generally you can move and either use a weapon or cast a spell or do some other complex action in a turn, but you might be able to fit more in if everything is very quick.” Given how much of AD&D – especially 1e – is presumed to go on behind the DM’s screen, the player doesn’t need to know much more.
 
So anyway, my new player got that just fine. The combat was not a bad opportunity to get some rules basics down, though in that session the player didn’t get to see much of the game’s scope. (It’s a short-session game, and they did a very little exploring before and after; that said, the combat, though long for 1e, was still about half the length of the equivalent 5e combat.)
 
The second session was much more varied, didn’t include the up-front rules learning, and really saw the game lifting off. The new player basically took responsibility for leading the investigation. Of course, not all new players are so forward, but given the complete lack of experience this guy has with RPGs, it was remarkable anyway. (Then again, I recently taught my friend’s 9-year-old daughter Basic, and she very quickly got into the swing of things.) Basically, to repeat, the game is conceptually intuitive. The new player understood that someone might be manipulating the work orders, causing material shortage (at this one of my veterans, an accountant, did grin/groan “this is just what I play D&D for, auditing worksites”). He reckoned the best bet was to follow the suspect around. He worked out who might be good at it, and they went and investigated.
 
They IDed the perp, and crept out of the woods to follow him around – but here a wrinkle entered. The perp realized he was being followed by strangers (failed Move Silently for the Thief leading the way), and so he hid in a work hut. Unbeknownst to the players, the perp barricaded himself in a little and prepared to attack anyone who broke in – he judged that he had been made, and wasn’t going quietly. The players, though, decided it was best to wait him out and watch the hut – intuitively understanding the possible dangers involved and avoiding them.
 
The perp snuck out at nightfall, with the PCs well hidden. The PCs had reported back to the rest of the party and set up a cordon around the village already. Long story short, the PCs watched the perp go back to his contacts (the Traders in town), and then head out to the north to leave the village, avoiding the intentionally visible group on the northern road. This actually just pushed him towards a group hidden in woods near the mill (in the centre-north of Hommlet), who sought to follow him further, but upon being spotted in the moonlight switched to nonlethal weapon attack and knocked the guy out. We used the Hommlet map with minis for this, gaining approximate distances and so forth from that. The party took their prisoner to Burne and got him to detain the perp, with an interrogation the next day revealing a little more of the evil plan. The new player came up with a way to turn the perp into a double agent.
 
D&D is always, if played thoughtfully, an open game – it’s also not a hard game to learn, generally. In fact, AD&D, for all its reputation, isn’t really much harder than other editions. Further, I wonder how far the open and creative play in the investigative session was enabled precisely by the way AD&D provides rules for some things but not others – by giving fairly tight and intelligent rules for combat, all the way down to Weapon Type vs AC, it manages the most complex and contentious variable, but by limiting investigation rules to specific Class or Race abilities, it encourages players to just do stuff. And my new player got that straight away.
 
There’s life in the old girl yet.

The Gygax Time Machine, Part 4: Pummelling Rules(!)

Zeb Cook makes things make sense in the 2^nd Edition books. Things are listed in some kind of comprehensible order. All the encumbrance information is in one place! Erratic subsystems are purged or integrated or simplified. Great!
 
Well...
 
My 1e table (Greyhawk) returned for the first time since last summer. We’ve had a few sessions, and they’ve been a blast. I’ve also been running 2e (Planescape), and enjoying that, too. And at both tables, there have been some unarmed/nonlethal combat efforts on the part of the players. I really enjoyed both (closely-related) systems, and think they say something about the games involved, including Gary’s own rules style.
 
Undeniably, the 2e version (PHB pp97-98) is much simpler. Punching and Wrestling involves an Attack Roll, potentially modified by the attacker’s Armor type if Wrestling. The die result of this attack, if it succeeds, then (in a quite Gygaxian efficiency) is crossreferenced to a table which details the result. Punching involves damage and a KO% - ¼ of the damage is “real”, ¾ is temporary Punching damage. Wrestling involves flat damage and defining whether or not the result is a Hold which can be maintained. Overbearing is also an attack roll, with three possible modifiers. Weapons used for subdual (in the same section and worth comparing) take a -4 To Hit penalty, and produce ½ real and ½ temporary damage.
 
This is more complicated than later editions, of course, but it is still integrated with the main rules system. Each attack type relies on a normal To Hit roll with a limited set of modifiers: Punching takes none; Wrestling may take a penalty based on opponent Armor; Overbearing considers comparative Size, number of legs (!), and number of Overbearers; and Nonlethal Weapon use takes a straight penalty.
 
The 1e version (DMG pp72-73) uses more words, is not integrated with the main systems, and uses far more modifiers. Each uses a percentile roll rather than a d20 roll. Pummelling (that is, Punching) has a base chance of “success” based on opponent’s ACx10. This then takes 8 modifiers – attacker’s Dexterity and Strength improve their chances, as does the AC value of any real armour; opponent conditions (e.g. Slowed)  also boost chances; opponent high speed and Haste reduce chance. IF the Pummelling hits, a second roll is made to determine damage (which is rendered ¼ to ¾ as in 2e), modified in various ways by armour, condition, and even what is being used to pummel (e.g. mailed fist, metal pommel); this roll may allow a second attack by the attacker, may stun the opponent, or may even allow the opponent to counter, all depending on the quality of the damage roll. Either way, there is usually a second chance to Pummel per round anyway.
 
Grappling (Wrestling) also uses a percentile die system, with similar modifiers (though only Dexterity, not Strength, matters for the attack roll itself), but the Defender’s Armor type acts as an additional modifier, because bulkiness makes wrestling easier. Then there is a “Hold gained” table, Similar to the Pummelling damage table this takes several modifiers, including whether the opponent is wearing a helmet or carrying a shield or is taller or shorter than the attacker. Wrestling then permits a counter-grapple by the defender.
 
Overbearing is comparatively simple; there is a base percentile score to hit determined by both attacker and defender Strength, contextual modifiers, height and weight difference, etc. This becomes the damage result as well, which is a step shorter than the other two categories.
 
So two of the Nonlethal attack forms are two-step in 1e, rather than one-step; none uses the normal To Hit system; they each have many more modifiers; and the actual “attack routines” are completely different to normal combat (Pummelling produces two attacks per round, Grappling involves a Counter stage).
 
Is the 2e version simply an improvement? Undoubtedly it is quicker to remember everything and run; undoubtedly it has some elegant features; it has one element which really is more Gygaxian than Gary’s system, with the quality of the To Hit roll determining the actual Punching or Wrestling result. But we run the risk of misunderstanding the purpose of the 1e subsystem.
 
It’s what the kids now call a “minigame”. Cook retains some of the flavour of this, with the separate damage table for Punching and Wrestling, but the fact that nonlethal combat uses different dice and takes many different modifiers points us to the simulationist, wargame background involved. Gary is offering a different way of engaging with the game and with the problems the PCs face, here – the specificity is the point.
 
My 2e players go to Overbear a little Spinagon guard; they roll a To Hit roll – I check for the three possible modifiers. It feels a little different. It’s just another mechanical moment, though, to serve the wider game.
 
My 1e players throw a blanket over a Spelleater worm, and then start pounding it to capture it. We turn to a different system; a different mechanical challenge presents itself, with a different rhythm. The game palpably shifts in feel for the Nonlethal attackers. A different type of mastery is available, and a different diversion is experienced.
 
I think it’s quite natural to prefer Cook’s version, and I liked it. But it’s hard for me not to appreciate the angular Gygaxian form – it has a certain kind of artistry and focus which is lost by simplification.
 
There is, actually, at least two other obvious comparisons here. In 2e, THAC0 becomes a single line by class, with a natural 20 always hitting and a natural 1 always missing; Weapon Specialisation (from Unearthed Arcana aka 1.5e) becomes an important secondary modifier making it easier for monoclass Fighters to hit and do big damage. These more or less directly replace the assumptions of the 1e PHB&DMG, which use full two-axis tables for THAC0 and which assume use of Weapon Type vs AC (which in 2e becomes a rather perfunctory and unattractive optional rule about Armor Type which is fairly little like the original, but much simpler to use).  The full table, of course, still heavily favours the natural 20 (a 1^st Level Fighter hits AC-5 with a 20), though there is no automatic fail and a To Hit required can be negative. Weapon Type vs AC is quite complicated and is massively eased by modern macros on Excel! (See Anthony Huso’s 1e sheet for that.) You see the reason for both of Cook’s changes there – but there’s some loss, too, particularly in terms of the skill of choosing weapon type to combat different armour types.
 
The second comparison is Psionics (which, whatever he said, Gary liked enough to rejig and reformulate in his own later rulesets). 1e Psionics (PHB pp110-117) has a bunch of clarity issues, and got a whole issue of Dragon dedicated to fixing it – but the mechanically distinct way of generating Psionic ability, the separate “magic” system of Psionic Strength Points, and the full attack matrices (DMG pp76-79) all repeat the same pattern of mechanical distinction and elaboration that Nonlethal Combat and To Hit do in 1e.
 
In 2e, Psionics is reserved for PHBR5, where it comes with a new Psionicist class (which arguably draws one or two ideas from the Dragon magazine Psionicist for 1e). There are a lot of similarities – PSPs are used, for example – but the default for Psionics is a specialised class who automatically has the ability, with Wild Talents generated separately. The Psionic powers themselves – very easy and very powerful to use in 1e if you had the PSPs – receive balance using a version of Nonweapon Proficiency rules (a Cook innovation, though PHBR5 is a Steve Winter book). Mental combat is simplified, though not by as much – though there aren’t multiple attack matrices and effects tables, there is a new system to learn that isn’t identical to normal procedures. (This would be “rectified” in 2.5, in Player’s Option: Powers, which introduced MTHAC0 and MAC.)
 
AD&D is always mechanically baroque and dense, but for Gary this is at least in part out of an irrepressible instinct to offer mechanically varied ways to engage with the problems the players face – yes normally fighting uses THAC0, but here’s a whole new system for Nonlethal; yes normally magic looks like this, but actually different classes use that system differently, and Psionics is a whole different system; yes the basic THAC0 roll is this, but have you considered your weapon and their AC? Mechanically the game is varied and demanding, pushing players to enjoy and master different methods.
 
2e takes inspiration from this in one direction (a direction I mostly like, too): multiplication of splats, options, specialisations. That can be taken to the absurd, and can be abused, but it is a legitimate extrapolation. But 2e “modernizes” and moves away from the Gygaxian legacy in its general preference for mechanical unification, and that has been undeniably the prevailing direction of travel since.

Ability Score Generation and PC Dynamics in Basic, 1e, and 2e

I’ll try to keep this brief-ish despite the enormity of the title. Reading the 2e PHB/DMG has gotten me thinking about how the early games use character generation to teach the participants about the game’s superstructure.
 
Basically, the main thing (not the only thing) that I’m mulling over is Ability Score rolls. OD&D was 3d6, 6 times, in order of Abilities. Basic does the same. B/X offers a Referee-side option of allowing a new *set* of rolls if the scores the player has are really bad – so not a new roll for the bad stat, but a new array.
 
Now, Gary himself comments on this procedure in the Ability Score Generation section of the 1e DMG (p11). He says it’s important to create viable characters for an ongoing game, and then, second sentence, glosses this: “While it is possible to generate some fairly playable characters by rolling 3d6...” He’s talking, of course, about OD&D (and Holmes Basic). This is classic Gary: assume your reader knows about some whole other thing and hare off on it. Basically, he thinks 3d6 in order takes too much time or leads to shonky characters in unwanted Classes. So he offers 4 methods in the DMG (and more in Unearthed Arcana) for generating scores.
 
Methods II, III, and IV are 3d6 systems, premised on creating ranges of scores or stat arrays for the player to pick from.
 
But you’d think Method I is the default, right? And that is...roll 4d6 six times, drop lowest on each, and assign as desired. Exactly the same as in Fifth Edition! Though Race modifiers are both more limited and more punishing in 1e than in 5e (where you can break the stat array at char creation, pretty much), the general effect is the same: solid characters with 1-2 15+ Abilities, per Gary’s comment in the PHB.
 
This is not how 2^nd Edition does things. Cook gives 5 generation methods. Method I is 3d6 in order, and Method III is 3d6 but arranged to taste. Method II and Method IV are 3d6 twice, keep best – so like the multiple stat Methods in 1e. Method VI is a weird combo of point array and dice. Method V is 4d6 drop lowest arrange as desired – the same as 1e Method I. Cook explains (2e DMG p10) that this creates a more heroic breed of adventurer; not ordinary schlubs thrust to greatness, but heroes.
 
Cook offers a three paragraph critique of this Method in the “Disadvantages” section, easily the longest. He highlights the risk of “super characters” which become difficult to challenge, and suggests that “ability inflation” will make high scores less exciting for players.
 
You’d think, from reputation, that this would be the other way around: Gygax encouraging gritty low-power play and 2e blowing this up in favour of superheroism.
 
(This isn’t even the only place this inversion happens: 2e Thief skills start lower, Weapon Specialisation can actually disadvantage Fighters compared to “Weapon To Hit Vs AC”, etc. Some of the changes are simplifications – like Specialisation – but some are also pretty obviously about reducing the power curve, as with the Ability Score generation discussion.)
 
What are Gygax, Holmes, Moldvay, Mentzer, and Cook saying about characters via their organisation of material and commentary on it? (Well, the Basic authors don’t comment on it, but they recapitulate in principle.)
 
Gary, it seems, had concluded by 1979 that the “real” D&D could be best enjoyed by having tough and capable characters from the offset. Cook, on the other hand – with the benefit of having played through the 80s, through the UA/OA era (and he wrote OA!) – preferred 3d6. He implicitly prefers the “man down the street” adventurer, as he puts it. 2e is not designed, at this point, to be a superhero game – it’s designed to be a retroclone! It’s designed to endanger the characters. Or at least, those are some very basic presuppositions exposed by the information design.
 
Why, then, do we think of 1e as lethal and gritty and 2e as superheroic? All kinds of reasons, really. At some level it’s just about product ranges: 2e went heavy on splats and settings and dramatic story concepts for its adventures. 1e was narrower. 2e also cleaned up its PR – no more devils and demons and half-orcs and assassins, and the PHB cover is brave knights, not thieves robbing a temple. Stylistically 2e offered a different image.
 
I think the actual adventures matter, too. I mean, from like 1989 to 1994 or so, the only really good adventure designer TSR had was probably Ed Greenwood (at least, who was actively putting out adventures). But more than that, the basic style of adventure has mutated so far between 1979 and 1989: not just in the “big” things, where we slam Dragonlance, but in the basic building blocks. No grinning devil faces or giant frogs ruined player’s days in modules from, like, 1990. The assumptions about lethality and problem-solving had significantly morphed, even where the game was still much more lethal and difficult than 5e, say.
 
Which I guess leads me back to this comparison between Gygax and Cook: Gary, from shifting Ability Score generation to ramping up class power levels for the UA Barbarian and Cavalier and so forth, spent a lot of 1e working out how to make stronger and more heroic characters, in the midst of the lethal, gritty Edition; Zeb Cook, inaugurating the superheroic and smooth edition, wanted to rein characters in, to make the world dangerous and strange. The development arc of 2e vs 1e was in one way a continuity - *of Gary’s later vision*. But an alternative 2e is imaginable – one less run from the front office and more from Zeb Cook’s intuitions. Perhaps we see that 2e best explored, not in the harsh world of Dark Sun (start at 3^rd level, it’s so harsh!!! Oh wait we barely support actual play in this setting), but in the magnificent body of adventure work by Bruce Cordell in the second half of 1990s. There’s a game there to be reclaimed: polished, loads of extra modular optional rules, loads of ideas, loads of material, but building on the earlier traditions of D&D.

FICTION: "Arrest, Interrupted"

Just to get something out there, here is a draft of a short story set in the Borderlands. Tell me what you think!

*****

The stem-bridge bounced precipitously as Kennett scurried across it towards the shouting. A deep voice was calling out, its challenges interspersed by strange sucking noises. The red bowl ahead contained shops and the homes of craftsmen – but this ruckus sounded more like the arena!
 
He dodged past some slower-moving pedestrians ahead, scuttling along the very edge of the stem, the sixty-foot fall below broken only by a partial lattice of lower stem-bridges. Skidding between the legs of a Brock leaning at the bowl-gate, Kennett swung right and looked for a way up, avoiding the crush ahead which cut all view of whatever drama was unfolding. He could now hear a second voice, quieter, quavering, stammeringly replying to the challenger. Kennett could not yet pick out the words.
 
Pulling himself atop a crate and thence to a low roof, Kennett bounded across the roofs of the shops here. He ended up perching atop a chandler’s balustrade – picking at it, he rather suspected it was heavy plaster rather than stone. Well, Kennett wasn’t too heavy. He looked round for wherever the action was, his eyes passing over the landscape beyond the City of Quinces – the oak stands and rich grasslands of Loam Country, the hill of the Great Carpet with its marble monument atop it, the mountains to the east shrouding Lost Elariel from view, a great floating mote of some kind stationary above the woods to the south, shrouded in cloud. None of this held his attention for more than a moment – from the vantage of the Flower Towns, this was his daily view.
 
Ah, there – on the other side of the bowl, a hollow in the crowd, filled by four figures – a cowering Brownie woman clad in practical craft leathers, two mailed Human guards-for-hire, and between the guards, a long and strange slug with tentacle-arms grasping a scroll. An Arbiter.
 
“...The seventh charge laid and approved by the Kind Master Aurion the Smiling goes thus: three centuries ago, your grandfather was indentured to Lord Aurion” – a strange sucking wheeze, and Kennett spied, with his keen eyesight, a tumourous wound beneath the Arbiter’s mouthparts – “and fled, taking with him eight-hundred platinum worth of glasses, tools, and gems.”
 
The creature rolled up its scroll, depositing it in some sort of organic sac on its own back. It wore a purple silken half-cloak clipped around its neck, and a metal spike glinted from its tail-end. Beyond that, its rotten body was wholly on display – sleek, slimy flanks marred by gashes and warts and tumours, its face cut and rotted. Kennett briefly retched – and then, in a flash, felt pity for the awful creature.
 
“Under the conditions of the Happy Peace, I hereby take you under guard to return you to Faery and to the care of Lord Aurion. He assures me he will be merciful.”
 
The Arbiter gestured with a tentacle-arm at the Brownie, and the two Humans stepped forward. The crowd muttered and there was a stifled sob, but there was no movement. And then...
 
“JEROME K. JEROME!”
 
The voice sounded unnaturally amplified, but any consideration of the technique was soon swept from Kennett’s mind by a brown cannonball arcing up from behind a house on the far side of the marketplace, performing a perfect parabola down on to the scene of the arrest – straight down, indeed, on to one of the Human guards, barrelling the man over and dazing him.
 
Then the cannonball – unfurled? – and in its place stood a dimunitive and spiky being holding a rapier-like weapon. A Spikeling.
 
“Who’s next?” it cried, again in a strangely loud tone. Kennett thought he spied something silver at the tiny being’s throat.
 
The Arbiter began to sinuate its way forward, not even bothering to reply to the Spikeling’s bravado.
 
“Non, non, non, Poggle, I have told you a thousand times – that is not the phrase!”
 
This voice rang out from behind the Arbiter, and the crowd began to jostle and part. The same voice continued.
 
“Mon cher Arbiter, I am happy to relieve you of the burden of this arrest, and shall take this felon into my custody; be assured I shall give her all the punishment she deserves for such misdeeds!”
 
The Arbiter swung its head round, its purple cloak flapping sharply.
 
“By what authority do you seize this bounty?” it asked calmly, “Has Lord Aurion commissioned you also?”
 
Now Kennett could see the Spikeling’s ally. A Human male in a blue tabard displaying a white flower, wearing a floppy hat.
 
“Ah...” the Human paused, thinking, “Perhaps it is truest to say I bear the authority of Louis, the thirteenth of his name, and the love of Madame Bonacieux, and such marks give me full confidence to deprive you of your bounty.”
 
The Arbiter gestured to its remaining guardsman, who drew a sword and advanced on the blue-tabarded man, before turning its attention back to Poggle the Spikeling – who still stood at arms like a gamecock, waiting to meet the charge of this being some fifteen times his own size.
 
The Arbiter drew no weapon, but instead withdrew a round ball – crystal, Kennett thought, squinting closely – and thrust it at the Spikeling from eight feet away. What was this?
 
A wispy smoke began to issue forth from the ball, and the Arbiter seemed to murmur – or slurp – something, though Kennett could not hear what. The vapour began to entangle the little Spikeling, whose attempt to leap back was foiled by the smoke’s sooty arms.
 
Meanwhile, the two Humans had come to swordpoint, and had already backed off from one another, watching each other warily. The blue-tabarded man held a rapier like a fencer, the mailed guardsman a long sword; the fencer might seem to have the speed advantage, but the guardsman was tall and strong, moving rapidly and taking advantage of a longer reach. Then the blue-tabarded man leapt to his right, scattering members of the crowd, and landing on a raised slab of stone. Now he had the height advantage and was closer to the Brownie, to boot – who seemed to be recovering from her shock and was edging away into the crowd until one of the wisps of smoke seized her, too.
 
“GERROFFFOVME!” Poggle shouted, slicing at the smoke.
 
“Mon ami, that is also incorrect – it is Jer-on-“ – and there the blue-tabarded man stopped, for he had to parry a sudden rush from the guardsman, who sought to follow that up by bundling the duellist from his perch.
 
Instead, he swayed back and seemed to fall to his knees, throwing his free hand out to the guardsman’s shoulder. His opponent began to flinch away, but the duellist had already launched off leaping over the burly Human’s head and landing into a heavy roll. As the guardsman turned, the duellist was already on his feet, albeit unsteadily, and drove his pommel into the taller man’s chin, knocking him down hard.
 
A third wisp of smoke detached from the mass to seize the victorious blue-tabarded man.
 
Then, suddenly, a burst of bright light above the marketplace, and the world suddenly seemed to undergo a brief blueshift, everything tinted in indigo and outlined in navy. Then normal colour returned, but a peculiar metallic taste remained in Kennett’s mouth. The smoke was gone, and the Arbiter was darting its head around, seeking something.
 
“Took your sweet time, Tinkerbell!” Poggle yelled angrily.
 
The duellist, by this time, had reached Poggle and carefully clapped him on an unspiked shoulder.
 
“Oui, oui, that is the reference! Correct!”
 
“Tinkerbell”, it turned out, was a small flying Fae – a Pixie, Kennett thought, but the being shimmered behind the speed of its wings and he could not be certain – and they were not happy with the epithet.
 
“I would not be so ready to mock, if I repelled as readily with my personality as with my spikes...” came a sweet female voice. Pixie or Sprite, then.
 
The Arbiter’s guardsmen were both shakily getting to their feet by this point. The ball of shimmering light moved slightly, and Kennett caught glimpse of a small, lissom arm – and then a shower of sparks covered the marketplace, causing guardsman and gawking crowd alike to scatter.
 
“...At any rate, I was rather busy drawing away the Arbiter’s other two guards!” the flying Fae finished, with a tone of superiority.
 
Before the sparks could clear, there was a further scuffle or sound of movement in the obscured area – and once they had dissipated, only the Arbiter and the two guardsman were left in the open area, looking angrily around. There was murmuring, clapping, and even a little ribald laughter in the crowd.
 
“Wow,” breathed Kennett.

ADVENTURE: Dolmenwood - "Faery: Lord Gladhand's Orchard" (2nd-4th Levels)

 I've written another adventure or locale for Dolmenwood - my third! This time we go to Faery, specifically the Gladding-Gloam, Lord Gladhand's autumnal realm. This is a wilderness adventure with 9 locations, including a settlement and a mini-"dungeon", and 10 new monsters, as well as a passel of new magic items. The Orchard is a place of magical fruit, creeping all-consuming Blight, and a painter who really...captures her subjects.

Find the map below, and the adventure here: https://drive.google.com/file/d/18ug1xJ0z1y39il1zMgBhKs4BY-nNtrID/view?usp=sharing.

Tell me what you think!

REVIEW: UK1 Beyond the Crystal Cave (video)

 

Preliminary Delineation of Adventure Types

As I prepare “How I Design” videos for different kinds of adventure, I am naturally brought to consider what types of adventure there are – because plainly different adventures have different formats and styles, and require different design decisions and different ways of running them. I’m going to offer a very tentative list of “adventure types” (and subtypes) here, in hopes it’s of use to, well, me, as well the community as a whole. Add other possibilities in the comments!
 
Fundamentally – given a basic assumption of D&D rules – I think there are three major categories of adventure. These are formally based on where they are located, though in fact their geography is only one part of their categorization, with the other being the format of their design, and the expectations on player decisions.
 
The Dungeon Adventure
The “Dungeon Adventure” is the adventure in a closed environment, with fixed and fully mappable geography, where the 10-minute Exploration Turn makes sense. The environment constrains player decision and focuses them on effective and intelligent exploration. This could be a 10-level megadungeon or a 19-room one-session wonder – size is not the determinant. Geography and format are.
 
The typical benefits of the Dungeon Adventure are the way in which the physical constraints allow the DM to create a textured and dense environment with relatively knowable routes of player action. For the player, it presents the ultimate challenge in environmental player skill – to map accurately, to predict patterns of traps, to solve puzzles, to pit physically close factions against each other, and the rest.
 
The Dungeon Adventure may occur in caverns or ruined castle dungeons, but it may also happen in any enclosed environment. A spaceship setting will often be a Dungeon Adventure (see S4 Expedition to the Barrier Peaks or Q1 Queen of the Demonweb Pits). A museum can be a Dungeon Adventure (see my How I Design A Dungeon video for my example of developing such a module). Even a “wilderness” setting can be a Dungeon Adventure, if set on a small enough groundscale and set into boxed “rooms” of content – think of the forest sublevel in Caverns of Thracia, or the “Upper Works” sections of something like T1-4 Temple of Elemental Evil or Abbey of St Clewd. You’re “outdoors”, yes, and there aren’t strict walls and corridors, but the flow of the area is closely related to the Dungeon Adventure – the ground covered is a few square miles at most, the space is amenable to the use of dungeoneering skills, etc.
 
D&D’s rules, particularly in older editions, naturally tend towards the Dungeon Adventure. Even our language of “levels” comes from that background – but the assumptions of player choices and of the actual mechanical skills provided in Original, Basic, and First all also assume an enclosed and “networked” environment.
 
Design-wise, the Rube Goldberg element of D&D comes to the forefront in these adventures – things are placed in very close proximity that can explosively interact and provide the players with opportunity or danger. This requires a serious approach to mapping. These adventures are the hardest to design geographically, because for your players to successfully apprehend the nature of the space, the space must be rational and made from ordinary geometry. Rooms linked by stairs need to actually be next to each other, not warped out by your poor scale on one level.
 
The close proximity of encounters also means that the best Dungeon Adventures require a more serious reflection upon ecology. When tribes of humanoids are many miles apart, their co-existence is more plausible; when they are in neighbouring caves, as in Keep on the Borderlands, some deeper logic must be sought, or else a frank handwaving offered (which is usually unsatisfying).
 
The Wilderness Adventure
The Wilderness Adventure operates as an exact opposite to the Dungeon Adventure – it relies on the sense of vast space, of geographic confusion, of “natural” environments now being disturbed by the adventurers. The groundscale of the Dungeon is in the low square miles; the Wilderness Adventure is nearly always in three figures at least.
 
The Wilderness Adventure is not simply “a wilderness map”. It is a particular set of objectives set on a wilderness map; it is not simply the world itself. Dolmenwood is a campaign setting, with many vignettes and locales on its map – but it is not a Wilderness Adventure, insomuch as it is the setting as a whole. UK1 Beyond the Crystal Cave, the aboveland portion of S3 Lost Caverns of Tsojcanth, or D1 Descent into the Depths of the Earth are all good examples of Wilderness Adventures.
 
The locale of a Wilderness Adventure can be anything appropriate; S3 is overland in the “ordinary” world of Greyhawk, UK1 is functionally on a demiplane, D1 is in the Underdark. To The City of Brass is extraPlanar.
 
Format of exploration can also vary – hexcrawls, pointcrawls, and “open map” experiences are all legitimate. The better adventures of this type will care about distance and travel, because they will provide measurable costs for the vast distances players traverse. It does not matter how these are measured, as long as they are measured and measured seriously. Slumbering Ursine Dunes is (probably) a Wilderness Adventure, as is Misty Isles of the Eld by the same author, both using pointcrawls; B10 Night’s Dark Terror is a hexcrawl, as is S3.
 
The challenge to players in the Wilderness Adventure ought usually to consist of a relatively limited amount of time versus a “mystery” of space. There is much ground to cover, dryads to placate, swamp hags to slay or gain tutelage from, wandering knights to recruit. There are micro-Dungeons to clear (of course, the Nested Adventure is legitimate, so long as it doesn’t collapse needful time constraints). There are ingredients to gather. The hurry around the map, the depletion of resources by the many challenges, the complex variety of terrains – these all contribute to creating a compelling situation.
 
The players are not worrying as much about precise mapping or procedure (traps must necessarily be less prevalent over such a large area – the statistical chance of characters simply missing them altogether must be large). The DM rolls for Getting Lost and Random Encounters, and will provide set encounters and obstacles in given hexes or paths. The thrust of the adventure is to plan their time well and triangulate their targets.
 
The DM has to make sure the wilderness seems lively but also wild, and also to ensure that the passage of time and space feels meaningful. “Dungeon dressing” here is, ironically, important – the sense that the characters are travelling across vast vistas, dealing with many challenges, with the weeks slipping away from them, is important.
 
The City Adventure
Finally, there is the City Adventure, which is perhaps harder to describe than the former two. This is partly because it is a hybrid – a vast space in which many Dungeon Adventures may be located; an enclosed space, too, with set limits and standards. A further complication is that simply being set in a city does not make an adventure a City Adventure! Sea of Blood is largely in a Sahuagin city, but it is only at points resembles the sort of Adventure I have in mind. Its dynamic is usually to frenetic and bloody for our purposes.
 
But I think there are distinguishable features for a City *Adventure* (rather than a City Setting – CSIO and Fever-Dreaming Marlinko are really both City Settings, though Marlinko blends into an Adventure at points).. It is an adventure that relies on a Fairly Peaceful Peopled Place. There are many places and many people to speak to; much sneaking about; much negotiation; Mini-Dungeons fitted to the setting, with depraved secret cults rather than humanoid-occupied caverns; the business of negotiating with the Thieves’ Guild over cuts and fees; the corrupt City Watch to manipulate.
 
The party needs to find the cult’s headquarters, and identify its leaders – but it cannot smash every door down, or simply set up factional warfare as it might in the Dungeon. Civilisation’s standards are different to the (ordinary) Wilderness or Dungeon. Roleplaying is emphasize, as are Thiefly skills and utility spells from the Magic-User.
 
It must be frankly admitted this is an underutilised genre of Adventure. I most quickly leap to Warhammer Fantasy Roleplaying adventures like “Shadows over Bogenhafen”. But there are some good D&D exemplars. Gabor Lux’s various cities (Gont, Baklin, and the City of Vultures material) have a distinctive flavour combining aboveground intrigue with vast undercities for Dungeon Adventures.  Some of the 2e Lankhmar material is spot on. Any good adventure that leans into fantasy noir tends to have a decent City Adventure component.  Discounting Vornheim as a toolkit rather than an Adventure or Setting, this is an area the OSR could really move into, it seems to me: specific and focussed scenarios set against a larger urban background.
 
The challenge for the players here comes in adhering to the loose rules of the place, of bypassing the relatively overwhelming force of the state’s forces, of negotiating their way between quite settled factions with skin in the game. There is an objective, and there is not the constant up-front danger of the Dungeon or sheer space to cover as in the Wilderness, but the objective is occluded. Where is it? Who may grant access? What alternative routes may be found? Which factions might help, and which will seek vengeance after?
 
The DM has to thoroughly people the City; it cannot simply be a concrete Wilderness, with vast unpeopled spaces, or spaces which might as well be unpeopled for all the good the crowd does. There must always be a jostle, the risk of pickpockets, overflowing tavern brawls. The hardest thing for the City is to make it feel alive – the actual dynamics of accessing a hidden space or discovering the secret High Priest really resemble a Dungeon puzzle or Wilderness gather-quest, depending on how the flow-chart works. The real difficulty is emphasizing the human dynamic of these discoveries, of the need to reckon with a whole city of allies and adversaries – and you never know which is which.
 
Anyway, what do you think? Are there other genres I have missed?

Magazine Monsters Part 2c: Creature Catalog #1 (Dragon #89) – Shrike, Giant-Wind Steed

 One interesting set of features Dragon published in 1984 and 1985 were the three Creature Catalogs: each a mini-Monster Manual (with 29, 18, and 24 entries, respectively), full of monsters that were largely forgotten thereafter. Many were created by master monster makers Ed Greenwood and Roger Moore, and they present the single largest untapped resource for monster ideas even today. This is the third and final entry in my look at Creature Catalog #1.
 
SHRIKE, GIANT – 3HD Giant Animal
Print Status: Only in Dragon.
Comments: By Ed Greenwood. A 9’ wide bird with a friendly chuckling cry, but which tricks prey by making baby noises and joyfully kills creatures it doesn’t want to kill, just for fun? Yes, please. Much better than a Giant Eagle of whatever else – profoundly unpleasant and disconcerting, especially for those scarred by Hitchcock. Good combat notes, too. Number Appearing is only 1, but seems reasonable to increase that in some circumstances to get a nasty swarm effect (or you can give them 1d4 1HD-1 young with two attacks at 1-4/1-2).
Marks: 5/5
 
SIND – 4+4HD Demihuman
Print Status: Only in Dragon. There’s a weird pseudo-adaptation in a Spelljammer Monstrous Compendium Appendix, under “wiggle”.
Comments: By Ed Greenwood. A Narnian import, because the Sind is also known as a “marshwiggle”, and they “tend to be dour, cynical pessimists but they also stubborn, pragmatic, good-natured, and sensitive”. You get the picture. Even before seeing this, I had once inserted a Marsh Wiggle into my big 5e D&D game, so I’m predisposed to like this. These are definitely a distinct spin on Puddlegum, though – with 30% of mature Sind gaining imprisonment once a day, and all being immune to a variety of mind spells (like charm, sleep, etc). They have a demigod who has a 10% (!) chance of turning up to help any threatened Sind colony. They make friends with Lizardmen. I find this a really rich concept, though grant “rich” can be a pejorative when it comes to food.
Marks: 4/5
 
STAR LEVIATHAN – 24HD Astral Beast
Print Status: Only in Dragon.
Comments: By Roger Moore. Slightly odd, though fun. A very intelligent blue whale-type creature who projects itself to the Astral from whichever Prime Material it dwells upon. They’re super-telekinetic, and have a fairly nasty defensive mechanism (with one round Psionic prep, they have a molecular shock field for four rounds, which has a chance of disintegrating any non-living object touching it, or causing 4d4 damage to any living creature and potentially destroying all that they carry). But honestly, this doesn’t much fit as a normal combat encounter – you could get players hunting it, of course, but they’re much better fitted as an ally to seek out. Perhaps they could help the players travel safely through a dangerous part of the Astral, or join them in an attack on some lich’s lair. Literally and metaphorically both unwieldy and awesome.
Marks: 3.5/5
 
UTUKKU – 10+5HD Fiend
Print Status: Also in 2e Monstrous Compendium Red Steel Edition. A different monster of the same name appears in the Pathfinder RPG Bestiary.
Comments: By Roger Moore. An odd treasure-seeking Tarteran fiend, with a lion-like head and a scaly body. There are two ways to conceive of this guy in 1e terms – either as a hefty, dangerous combat for fairly competent high-mid-level adventurers, or as a negotiation. In the former case, you’re looking at something with 3/day of each of teleport without error, fear, create darkness, and 12d6 lightning bolt; 1/day symbol of discord and control weather; and 1/week cause disease and polymorph self. That’s not accounting for 3 attacks at 4d4/4d4/3d4, and -2AC. If a party does some of its homework, or is just extra-cautious with bringing magic to the battle, that’s a fun battle. On the other hand, the Utukku’s at-will suite of utility abilities mean that a party could wrangle a deal (everything from survival up to lots of magical assistance), if they can somehow source treasure whilst it is visiting the Prime Material. However, the implied behaviour and the likely dynamics do point to the combat route. A fun design, if specific.
Marks: 3.5/5
 
VENUS FLY-TRAP, GIANT – 6HD (body)/2HD (each of 3-8 jaws) Giant Plant
Print Status: Possibly some kind of official Pathfinder version; certainly several 5e Homebrews.
Comments: By Roger Moore. I like Giant Plants, as you may have picked up. This has an interesting ecology/combat description – lots of 80%-likely-to-be-hidden jaws trying to swallow Small-sized targets or latch on to larger ones. It’s really a passive ambush predator, then, but much less dangerous than your typical slimes. This feels like it could be a memorable encounter or a fairly quotidian random roll. Decent, not as strong as the other Giant Plants in CC1
Marks: 2.5/5
 
VURGEN – 7+7 to 9+9HD Marine Beast
Print Status: Only in Dragon.
Comments: By Ed Greenwood. Another weird Greenwood marine predator, and all to the good in my view. This one is a weird one with a giant set of jaws and a fairly slim body – so fairly distinctive-looking (it’s nicknamed the “giant gulper”). There’s obviously an issue with getting the party to deal with it – it is said to sometimes threaten shallows and harbours, so that’s easy, or you could use the hint of Locathah informants to send a high-mid-level party underwater with to help the friendly fishfolk. Solid if unexciting entry.
Marks: 2.5/5
 
WHALE, KILLER – 9 to 12HD Marine Beast
Print Status: Also 5e Monster Manual.
Comments: By Roger Moore. Suitably savage and cunning, including the insane danger implied by Number Appearing 5d8, excluding juveniles who can also attack. They sneak under ice, drag people into freezing waters, etc. Oh, some of them are psionic too. These guys seems overmighty, but there’s something incredibly appealing about using them nonetheless. If a party (foolishly?) heads into the arctic zones of your world, this is a great random encounter risk. Random encounters are part of the risk calculation for parties, both in terms of material risk and resource drain; a pod of hungry orcas are very much on one end of that risk range, but it’s something the human whalers or penguinfolk could reasonably warn a party about. If you want to tread out over the ice sheet to reach the Spire of Blue Ice, to rescue to Frost Elf Princess and loot the hoard of the interdimensional raiders, go prepped for the nastiest beast in the cold seas. This works very well for that.
Marks: 4.5/5
 
WIND STEED – 4HD Horse
Print Status: Only in Dragon.
Comments: This is a “quest creature”, but undoubtedly a cool one. Levitating horses with Manoeuvrability Class A – so casters can perform spells of any kind except those requiring glyphs! This is top-drawer player-bait. They’re also hilariously intense in an anime manner. Their gaze is so intense they are immune to gaze attacks! They can break the grip of Aerial Servants at a 40% likelihood! They are immune to wind-type damage! They cohabitate with pegasi! They are sometimes led by varicoloured, seashell-patterned specimens who can cast suggestion! Those who hate the Haughty Fantasy aspect of D&D will hate these guys; of course, the haters are wrong. THIS IS AWESOME. It’s specific, with only a few viable contexts (you’re out to tame them, there are loads of local griffons and you need allies), but it’s a great monster.
Marks: 4.5/5
 
Conclusion
The most reliable set I’ve reviewed so far. Of the whole of Creature Catalog I, there are two undoubted duds – the Corkie and the Fachan – but there are real classics, too: the Glasspane Horror, the Killer Whale, the Wind Steed, and above all the frankly disturbing Giant Shrike. There are a few good Demihumans/Humanoids too, in the Amitok and Sind. Finally, notable that a big theme of CC1 is marine and plant monsters – the former a neglected area, the latter an obvious source of environmental/wilderness colour. There is a lot here for the creative DM. Recommended.

How I Design A D&D Dungeon Adventure (VIDEO)

Magazine Monsters Part 2b: Creature Catalog #1 (Dragon #89) – Ghuuna-Scallion

One interesting set of features Dragon published in 1984 and 1985 were the three Creature Catalogs: each a mini-Monster Manual (with 29, 18, and 24 entries, respectively), full of monsters that were largely forgotten thereafter. Many were created by master monster makers Ed Greenwood and Roger Moore, and they present the single largest untapped resource for monster ideas even today. This is the second entry in my look at Creature Catalog #1.
 
GHUUNA – 6+6HD Gnoll Lycanthrope
Print Status: Only in Dragon.
Comments: By Tomas Willis. Gnoll lycanthropes. There’s a great spin on their nature here: https://pocgamer.com/2018/08/22/backgrounder-001-gnolls/. They need a spin like that (where they become one of three tribes of Gnollkind, taught shapeshifting by a predecessor to Yeenoghu), because otherwise they’re just a fun reskinning. That said, reskinning is no bad thing, and having another gribbly to put in your Gnoll lairs and encounters is only good.
Marks: 2/5
 
GLASSPANE HORROR – 8HD...something? Aberration or Construct or even Elemental
Print Status: Only in Dragon.
Comments: By Rosemary and Don Webb. A polymorphing creature which can be iron-strength glass, a glass-man with magic powers, or a storm of glass like an air elemental. Pretty atmospheric. The assumption is that it will be a “protective” creature in a dungeon or lair, looking after valuables. There are good behavioural notes – e.g. it’s loyal but not willing to die for its master, so will eventually flee to warn them. Genuinely very good, even if limited in application as it stands.
Marks: 4.5/5
 
HORSESHOE CRAB, GIANT – 6+6HD Giant Animal
Print Status: Only in Dragon.
Comments: By Ed Greenwood. This seems a fairly ordinary giant animal, until you get to the end of the entry: they’re immune to mind-control, reflect back psionic powers on the use, and can cast shocking grasp and lightning bolt! I am confused about their assumed behaviour: they’re both predatory and placid, apparently. But that can be reconciled. There’s a good hook – an undamaged giant horseshoe crab brain can be used in the inks used to write the spells it can cast. It also has a fun nickname, from the noise it makes when eating: “chont”. Dudda chuk?
Marks: 3/5
 
IHAGNIM – 8-16HD Astral Amoeba
Print Status: Only in Dragon.
Comments: By Roger E. Moore. Uh. So it’s an amoeba which lives on the Astral Plane and planeshifts its stomach bag into the Prime Material where suckers think it’s a Bag of Holding, but it’s actually a Bag of Devouring. That’s where they come from. Weird and a bit screwed up and undoubtedly cool, though very, very specific. This is really a one-use-per-campaign monster.
Marks: 2.5/5
 
MILLIKAN – 5+1HD Invertebrate
Print Status: Only in Dragon.
Comments: By Mark Nuiver. A carnivore that looks like a tree stump with gnaled roots. It has an oil projector and a flamethrowers (!). There’re some decent behavioural notes, and it likes both flesh and certain metals, which influences treasure finds. Its “battery” organ is a useful magical find, thereby adding a potential hook. This is odd – it’s really a bit overblown, and its suite of attacks can do a *lot* of damage, covering opposition with oil which blinds and is then set on fire by the flamethrower. Nonetheless, it’s likely to be memorable.
Marks: 3/5
 
NAGA, DARK – 7-9HD Naga
Print Status: Also Forgotten Realms Campaign Setting 2^nd Edition, Monster Manual 3.5 Edition, Monster Manual 4^th Edition.
Comments: By Ed Greenwood. One of the most durable Dragon Magazine monsters. Here they are Lawful Evil “fey creatures”. The entry isn’t actually very detailed, though it includes a rare definition of a creature able to cast a spell and attack in the same round (this seems implicit elsewhere, but I can’t think of many entries which actually say so!). They’re 6^th-Level Magic-Users for purposes of spell slots and casting, as well as having ESP and a poison stinger. Their lore develops over time; here, they’re just an intelligent monster with a cool picture and powerful action economy.
Marks: 3/5
 
PELTAST – 1+6HD Amorphous
Print Status: Also FA1 Halls of the High King, Monstrous Compendium Annual Volume Two, Menzoberranzan Boxed Set, Ruins of Undermountain Boxed Set.
Comments: By Ed Greenwood. A staple in Greenwood’s adventures. Symbiotic with parasitic tendencies, this creature morphs into leather equipment or clothing and latches on to a host, feeding very slightly on its nutriment (1hp a day, which heals automatically at night). It lends Magic Resistance (7%) to its host. I don’t know quite what to make of this fellow – it does seem like a fun “prank” monster (and any good DM likes those), and you can see further uses. For instance, what if a valuable item is hidden in one, and its “latch” seems locked? What if their MR actually registers as magical, and so they end up being worn as a magical piece of equipment? And so forth. It’s interesting, but in this entry seems almost incomplete – what’s the hook? What environments might be best? Nonetheless, not bad.
Marks: 2.5/5
 
PITCHER PLANT, GIANT – 100hp Carnivorous Plant
Print Status: Only in Dragon (I think).
Comments: By Roger E. Moore. More carnivorous plants! Actually there is one of these on our Prime Material, with a genus named after Sir David Attenborough. But this one...kills! I think one thing that makes me like plant monsters is that they can bridge environmental hazard and monster threat. They aid in building naturalistic environments, they’re repeatable, and their effects are often interesting (here, grabbing people with a long tentacle and then trapping them in the plant’s “vase”). In a fantastic Lost World environment, this is a great hazard – just another normal crazy big plant, until it grabs your Halfling!
Marks: 4/5
 
SEASTAR – 1HD Aquatic Beast
Print Status: Also 5e Homebrew.
Comments: By Ed Greenwood. Aquatic creatures are underrated because aquatic adventures usually suck. Aquatic creatures, in reality, rock – because the sea is terrifying. It is a much more dangerous environment than the average dungeon. Utterly inhospitable to landdwellers. And in D&D, you can make it even more dangerous! Seastars hitch rides on the bottom of ships and feed on carrion, sometimes even helping the process along by dragging people off ships. There are some useful notes on how they end up making food alliances with telepathic creatures (so a bunch of Aberrant intelligent monsters, basically). Given the HD involved, and the likely behaviour, the Seastar is perhaps more of an aquatic hazard than an existential menace, but it’s worth getting on the encounter table.
Marks: 3/5
 
SCALLION – 5+5 to 6+6HD Fish
Print Status: As "ascallion" in 2e Monstrous Compendium 3 - Forgotten Realms Appendix 1.
Comments: By Ed Greenwood. Giant aquatic predators (up to 12’+ long), impervious to pain, paralysis, and mental attack, which spawn by the young eating their way out. Nasty big fish. The male gets their own creepy behaviour note, too: “a silent, solitary ghost who glides through uncrowded waters. Black and sharklike, the male is nicknamed ‘the shadow’ by the aquatic races, for this is all they normally see of him if they survive an encounter.” Okay so that gets to go in any adventure where your potential allies are Tritons or Locathah or whatever. There’s something impressive about Greenwood being able to take a giant predator fish, and without even fully spinning its abilities (only Special Defences), make it rich with atmosphere. This guy hunting your Water-Breathing wreck searchers...that’s memorable terror.
Marks: 4/5
 
Conclusion
Nothing bad, though plenty of middling. We do come closest to a cast-iron all-time classic, though, with the Glasspane Horror (the Scallion comes close, partly because it seems so humdrum but is in fact terrifying). I’d say the hitrate so far on CC1 is as good as any of the official 1e monster books.

RETRO RPG REVIEW (video): "JG102 Caverns of Thracia" by Judges Guild

Barebones of a Spelljammer Campaign, Part 1: Low Levels and the Rock of Bral

Barebones of a Spelljammer Campaign

Part 1: Low Levels and the Rock of Bral

Part 2: The 3-D Island Crawl

more TBC

Introduction

The most successful post on my blog is from years ago, and it’s on Spelljammer. I cheated because I included an awesome Brom painting. Basically, my concern was how to salvage Spelljammer from its various encumbrances: a limited core boxed set, no strong full-length modules, a lot of rules from the transitional 1.5/2e era which sometime occlude understanding.
 
As I’ve not had a table in a position to play Spelljammer, I haven’t developed much in that direction since. I’ve read a bit. But I decided it’d be fun to put together the framework for a campaign.
 
The first problem to deal with when developing a Spelljammer campaign is the basic “level expectation”. Though nominally even a 1^st Level spellcaster can pilot a spacefaring ship in the setting, every other measurement points to Spelljammer being a mid-to-high level game: buying a Minor Helm (the cheapest piloting device for a spaceship) costs 100,000gp; create minor helm is a 5^th-level Spell; core box demihumans/monsters/etc which are important in the setting include Dracons (6HD), Beholders (45-75hp, and everything else they entail), and the Arcane (11HD); proposed adventures for getting groundling adventurers into space include 5 Beholders crashing a ship and seeking slaves to repair it, and politically successful PCs being called upon to meet an Arcane visitor.
 
There are a few solutions offered. You could just start a campaign at, say, 4^th or 5^th or even 8^th level, whether with Groundling PCs or spacefarers. You could somehow bodge together the ideas in the (fascinating) Astromundi Cluster campaign boxset, where it is assumed low-level characters will be viable even with the mid-level infrastructure of the Spelljammer world.
 
But I think I’ll go with about the only normal route for low-level play actually suggested in the books: in SJR5 Rock of Bral, the idea of simply starting a low-level campaign (perhaps at 2^nd Level) is mooted, with PCs being groundling adventurers, but with a difference. They are on the spacefaring Rock of Bral, living beside a major spaceport. They can adventure around the Rock itself, and even find some (low-level) work in space as deckhands and marines on established ships.
 
What is lost via this approach is the specific shock of an established groundling campaign being thrown into space: “wait, we can fly this thing?!” But given the alternatives – other than running a mid-length campaign just to get to space – are starting at mid-level, or severely kitbashing the setting to make it work mechanically, starting on the Rock makes sense. And it has the advantage that the Rock is actually a good setting. SJR5 is about the best city book in D&D history, discounting the particular style of City-State of the Invincible Overlord. Only FR1 Waterdeep and the North is really comparable in quality for a book of the same type; in recent times, Baklin: Jewel of the Sea by Gabor Lux is less expansive but much more focussed as a product to run at the table.
 
The Rock has all sorts of option for city adventure: Thieves Guild shenanigans, ethnic tensions between the different barrios, the intrigues surrounding the reigning Prince’s nephew, secret slavers. There is also an expansive Underdark within the rock, with the remains of past civilisations that no-one can remember or adequately explain (even the Illithids and Beholders seem quite honest when they say they don’t know why there are ancient ruins of their people inside). Indeed, mentioning such Aberrants reminds me: this is a setting where there are plenty of low-level schmucks like you, but where the power players who operate in the open can include Illithids, Beholders, Arcane, and the rest. It’s a bit gonzo and overblown, but that’s part of the appeal. (A potentially useful resource to use is the fanmade Bralspace, giving a system for the Rock to be in - otherwise you'll need to create your own: http://www.spelljammer.org/worlds/Bralspace/.)
 
So what does our Low-Level City Sandbox In Space look like for the players?
 
A Modicum of Character Prep
I usually oppose any real work on backstories, beyond a sentence or two, but a tiny bit more effort here will help. City games require a certain amount of social immersion, unless adventurers are “just off the boat”. That in turn requires a bit more thought – it’s the equivalent of writing up a rumour table, but focussed on the actual characters players bring. (Incidentally, this does suggest city adventures are better suited for slightly more robust versions of D&D – Original/1e/2e – rather than Basic. We’re not going as much for the rogue-like feel.)
 
What our character prep can do: give Thieves a link with a relevant Underbaron and a Thieves’ Guild; give a Dwarven Fighter an “in” with some Dwarven mercenaries who contract out as marines; give a Magic-User/Wizard a connection with academic/research types. Giving each PC a “City Hook” that immerses them in the context is the replacement for rumours (though Rumour Tables in Taverns are still a good idea, and I’d develop them, too).
 
You seed the first options or challenges in a way that engenders investment in the Rock: the Thief’s cohorts are facing a lot of pressure from a bruising group of unlicensed rogues with powerful backers; the Dwarf is offered jobs guarding food shipments, or providing security for a Low City merchant whose life has been threatened; the M-U hears tells of an archaeological find on a nearby Earth-type worldlet (providing context for a dungeon-style adventure). Other factional conflicts can be brought in too – an anti-slavery character could be tasked by the Order of Pragmatic Thought with investigating a certain merchant house who seem to a cover for slaving, which is otherwise banned on the Rock.
 
Contrasting Normal and Weird
More than usual, the setting requires putting the “weird” in Spelljammer in front of your players. I think there’s something to be said for framing half the “adventure seeds” in terms of a mini-Lankhmar city game, and the other in terms of “weird things in fantasy space”. Partly, indeed, this mix always points players to the stars – towards earning their own ship, gaining the magic to use it, etc. They always look out beyond the docks and see squidships in faerie fire off the shoulder of the Rock...wait. That’s been done, hasn’t it?
 
Anyway, you get the idea. The dungeon environments on random asteroids should be Distinctive (see my original post). The threats when providing security on shipping just feel like Space Threats – not simply a list of encounters with common humanoids in ships (though Orc Pirates are legit!). I’m making Spelljammer encounter lists and will throw them up here in time, for those who are interested.
 
And the normal and weird can and should cross over – you know that shadowy patron who hired you at 1^st level to loot a warehouse’s surprisingly extensive cellars? It was an Illithid! Or an Arcane! You’re 2^nd level and you found out your boss is a creepy brain-eater. But the gold is good!
 
Faction Timelines
Because for the first few levels this Bral campaign is going to be heavily city-focussed (and of course it may still be once the PCs have their own ship), factions need taking seriously. They can’t just be dressing. Outlining the first few months of “faction moves” – what Prince Andru wants to do, what the hidden slave ring is up to, what major Nobles and Captains want to accomplish, how the Thieves’ Guild rivalries will progress – gives you some context for what the players get caught up into as they get stuck into Space Lankhmar. (Of course you may start your “timers” at Day 45 or 60, at a point wherePCs have probably gained a level or even two. For reference, my big Exploring Chult game has people beginning to hit 6^th and 7^th level after 200 days of continuous adventuring with breaks for training.)
 
This only needs to be one fairly sparse page in Word or Excel. We’re talking about one or two “faction plots” or fixed-day events per faction, or for the city as a whole. But because you want your players to be invested in one place – always whilst longing to reach the stars – you need a sense of organic life that doesn’t depend on you just coming up with stuff on the hoof, or the players kicking the door in.
 
(In lots of contexts, the idea that a setting is a powderbox waiting for the players to mess it up is sufficient; in a city game, I think it is “necessary but not sufficient”. There needs to be a Rube Goldberg thing where players reshape the place around them, kicking off absurd chains of events, but you need a base state, and for a game focussed initially on one place, you need that place to feel real and like it has its own life.)
 
Summary
The key struts for developing this Low-Level City Sandbox In Space are: (1) giving the characters roots in the city of the Rock of Bral, in lieu of ordinary starting Rumours – some leading to action on the Rock, some leading to action in level-appropriate space environments (no-one is hiring a 1^st-level schmuck for the big stuff, after all); (2) always keeping both the Normal and the Weird (in this case, Fantasy Space) in view, and mixing the two, in ways to both excite your players and given them stellar aspirations; and (3) giving major factions objectives, plans, and timelines, which your players then get to mess with.
 
Next time – whenever that is – I’ll expand on the idea of the 3-D Island Crawl, which I talked about in the original. 

APPENDIX N CHAT (video): "Three Hearts and Three Lions" by Poul Anderson

Magazine Monsters Part 2a: Creature Catalog #1 (Dragon #89) - Amitok-Flailtail

One interesting set of features Dragon published in 1984 and 1985 were the three Creature Catalogs: each a mini-Monster Manual (with 29, 18, and 24 entries, respectively), full of monsters that were largely forgotten thereafter. Many were created by master monster makers Ed Greenwood and Roger Moore, and they present the single largest untapped resource for monster ideas even today. I’m going to take a few posts to go through each, following the same format as last time.
 
Creature Catalog #1 (Dragon #89)

AMITOK – 2+HD Goblinoid
Print Status: 5e homebrews, possible inspiration for Pathfinder’s Wikkawak.
Comments: By Roger Moore. Snow-adapted Hobgoblins, though furry like a Bugbear. Some good environmental and behavioural notes (including the way in which Amitoks don’t collect treasure, except sometimes to use as bait for adventurers!). I do like these guys – because thoughtful reskins of ordinary Ancestries is a good thing. I could see myself using them in the arctic – a highly organised, predatory race of snow goblins.
Marks: 3/5
 
BEETLE, KILLER – 9HD Giant Animal
Print Status: Only in Dragon.
Comments: By Ed Greenwood. Creepy gigantic beetles with psionic powers and four 20’-long tentacles with which to grab people. A very Greenwoodian creature. It is, perhaps, a bit overblown – and at 9HD AC3 a pretty rough encounter for all sorts of parties – but it’s very memorable and distinctive. It’s a good reminder that sometimes just sticking bits on to a monster really does work to freshen it up.
Marks: 4/5
 
BICHIR – 5-7HD Giant Animal.
Print Status: As “Giant Lungfish” in 2e Monstrous Compendium.
Comments: By Ed Greenwood. Mudkip! I actually think these are creepy and disgusting. Flob, flob, flob they go, as they slurp across the ground towards you. They’re not exactly exciting – they’re not an “iconic” encounter like the Killer Beetle – but they’re a nice random or wanderer. Good environmental filler.
Marks: 3/5
 
BOHUN TREE – 10HD Sentient Plant
Print Status: Only Dragon.
Comments: By Ed Greenwood. Carnivorous sentient trees with poisoned fruits which can induce sleep or paralysation...IF BURST. If eaten, it’s Save vs Death time. And they can fire volleys of thorns! And they have clusters of tiny eyes all over their trunk in fissures. This is pretty weird and nasty, and very Greenwoodian in its funky combo of powers. Very context dependent – it’s a tree! – but, then again, there are lots of types of forest and wood. A big treasure chest is tangled in its roots! It’s in a wizard’s screwed up garden! It’s grown in a Dryad’s Grove! Lots of seedables here (pardon the pun).
Marks: 4/5
 
CALYGRAUNT – 2+4HD Fey Animal
Print Status: Ruins of Myth Drannor and Monstrous Compendium Annual Volume One.
Comments: By Ed Greenwood. A weird magic-item hoarding and using “feystag”. There’s a lot of detail here for a very situational monster. It’s not a trivial random encounter to develop, so really needs situating and contextualising: this guy has an item you want. This guy can activate magic items/learn command words, and he’s the only thing in the Feywood who can sort your newly-found treasure. You get the idea. It actually seems like an NPC idea rather than anything else.
Marks: 2/5
 
CANTOBELE – 2-4HD Animal
Print Status: MC11 Monstrous Compendium Forgotten Realms Appendix 2.
Comments: By Ed Greenwood. A six-legged mountain lion thing which can cast spells like ice storm and can attack with its tail as well as claws. This thing has what we’d now call “action economy” – an average 3HD creature with 8 attacks, at 1d4x6/2d4/1d6! It’s a strange combination of damage output and HP. Of course, as a predator, you would cast it as a lone stalker, ambushing the party (or using its weird feminine voice to lure them somewhere dangerous). I can’t quite get behind this one. There are interesting things here, but essentially it’s just a mega-lion with a lady voice. Of course, as it has Average-to-High Intelligence, the obvious thing would be to salvage it as a potential interlocutor, a dangerously intelligent horror who wants something from the PCs other than meat.
Marks: 2/5
 
CORKIE – 1+1HD Giant Animal
Print Status: Only in Dragon.
Comments: By Roger Moore. Uh. Giant rodents with two horns and a corkscrew tail. Valuable pelts, though, and their lairs might be inhabited by other beasties or shared with Gnomes. Not a complete dud concept, most usable as a morally ambiguous “target” (the furriers want a big haul, at mark-up prices, but the local Rock Gnomes are protecting them). Really environmental dressing more than anything.
Marks: 1.5/5
 
DULEEP – ½-6HD Amoeboid
Print Status: Only in Dragon.
Comments: By Ed Greenwood. Wispy spider-web of identical cells that flows over surfaces and shocks those it touches. It also splits like certain other oozes! Quite creepy – a nice surprise monster. Basically right to see it as a reskin/respin on those other mobile oozes, with a good aesthetic. Stick it in yer dungeons, yer overground ruins, yer basements!
Marks: 3/5
 
EXPLODESTOOL – 1hp Fungus
Print Status: Only in Dragon.
Comments: By Alan Zumwalt. It looks like a normal mushroom! It explodes for 1d2 damage and can deafen nearby targets! This stuff is where some of the real gold is in D&D – this seems innocuous, but it’s an interlocking piece of environments you can create as a DM. The suggestions in the entry are good, including being inoculated with other mushrooms all around a castle’s walls. You sneak in – MUSHROOMS EXPLODE! – you’re deafened – GUARDS ARE FIRING! You get the idea. Oh...as they explode, they obviously spread spores – which you could collect. This is a rich idea, and a good tool in the toolbox.
Marks: 4/5
 
FACHAN – 6+3HD Ogre
Print Status: MC11 Monstrous Compendium Forgotten Realms Appendix 2.
Comments: By Roger Moore. A one-eyed, one-armed, one-legged ogre (later also known as a Gruumskin). I’m sorry, this is stupid. This is a Dufflepud, but we’re meant not to see it as a comic prank played by a wizard. I like the way in which they’re weird ogre mutants; the seeds for harvesting parts to make magic items is good; the basic idea is bad, and silly, and is the wrong kind of funny. (Unless you’re running situations for laughs, not looking for humour to arise organically, as it always does.)
Marks: 1/5
 
FLAILTAIL – 3+3HD Giant Animal
Print Status: Only in Dragon.
Comments: By Ed Greenwood. A pretty functional freshwater manta ray. They can eat anything as large as a catoblepas! I see this in the same category as the Giant Gar – situational, and seemingly “bland”, but actually a pretty thrilling wilderness encounter. Remember, when designing beyond the encounter table, the trick with these sorts of things is to contextualise them – is this in an overland portion, and is a dangerous local predator? There could even be more than one in an area (Rare, 1d4 appearing). It could be in the marsh surrounding a Bullywug mound – think of an alternative to the Giant Frogs at the Moathouse in T1. A manta ray which smacks people into the water and then latches on is pretty terrifying, and liable to be remembered.
Marks: 4/5
 
Conclusion
A mixed bag, with a couple of genuinely weak entries (Corkie, Fachan – both Moore entries). The Amitok is one of the most flexible entries, along with the Explodestool, and the Killer Beetle, Bohun Tree, and Flailtail are all very good monsters. Not as much in the way of compelling “negotiation monsters” – the Calygraunt is a bit niche, the Fachan is dumb, the Amitok is literally just a Hobgoblin (though a good one!). The Cantobele, ironically, might be the most interesting challenge of that sort here, even though it’s not itself super-exciting.
 
I’ll do another 10 from CC1 next time.

Magazine Monsters Part 1: Dragon's Bestiary (Dragon #119) - "A walk through the woods"

In 1^st Edition terms, you have four “Monster Manuals” – Monster Manuals I  & II, by Gary Gygax with others; the Fiend Folio, covering TSR UK monsters; and Deities and Demigods, by Jim Ward and Rob Kuntz. Those are the official books.
 
Yet a vast array of monsters – often incredibly inventive and interesting monsters – were put out via Dragon magazine, whether as part of special articles, the three Creature Catalog special supplements, or the later “Dragon’s Bestiary” column. Together, these really constitute a fifth Monster Manual-like publication. Many monsters only ever appeared here, though some (particularly from “Dragon’s Bestiary”) did have an afterlife. That’s a shame, and these monsters deserve wider dissemination. Hence this series. Each time I’ll look at a different feature or supplement or column from the pages of Dragon magazine (and maybe, in time, from other magazines). I’ll consider each monster, record its presence in print (as far as I know), and offer thoughts for use.
 
This time I’ll be covering Dragon #119’s “The Dragon’s Bestiary”, which part of an issue focussed on druids, rangers, and forest exploration. This provided the theme for the Bestiary – “A walk through the woods”. This “TDB” was a “various authors” edition, though one monster was provided by Ed Greenwood, always a reliable monster-maker.

Dragon #119, "A walk through the woods"
 
ANUCHUS – 1+2HD Dog/Foxman
Print Status: Dragon only.
Comments: Super-genius neutral good demihumans feel like a whole genre of monster, and I know they grind some people’s gears. I generally like them – they give me ideas. It’s an alternative to reskinning familiar Ancestries – rather than “spinning” Dwarves in a new direction, having someone else envision and illustrate a demihuman/humanoid type can spark the imagination. The nice thing with the Anuchus is the idea that they are Ranger-heavy – 1 in 5 is a Ranger! They’re wilderness experts who tame wolf packs to protect them. If your party is in the deep woods, the idea that the allies they find are dog/foxmen with Ranger skills and pet wolves is quite a cool one. Different feel to Sylvan Elves. Arrogant, slightly distant wolfmen in the deep pine woods – your only hope of aid, but you must win their respect.
Marks: 3/5
 
GIANT CAPYBARA – 2+4HD Giant Animal
Print Status: Dragon only.
Comments: Not much to say, honestly. Capybara are cool, so giant ones could be decent wilderness dressing. You can always “weaponise” natural animals – a patron could pay for capybara pelts, they could be a nuisance, etc. But they’re not exciting.
Marks: 2/5
 
WILD HALFLING – 1-1HD Demihuman
Print Status: Also turns up in Maztica products in altered form. There’s a “race option” on DM’s Guild for 5e.
Comments: Really more of a player option, it seems to me. In their original form, these “Bramblings” are Halflings who didn’t go and settle amongst humans. They’ve kept touch with their primal roots. There’s an emphasis on druidic power. I think the entry here is overlong – about a 1.5 pages out of 8 in the whole Bestiary feature – but it’s a nice enough alternative Halfling background. One can see the potential influence not just on the Maztican “wild Halfling”, but also the Dark Sun carnivorous Halflings.
Marks: 2/5
 
LESHY – 3+6HD Woodland Fae
Print Status: Also Pathfinder Bestiary Volume 3 and 5e homebrews.
Comments: A spin on Slavic folklore, which is nice. A short, long-nosed, muddy-bearded woodland being with blue skin. Nice description. Fae prankster, so your mileage may vary. (In Pathfinder, they’re fae homunculi who you can grow with the right spells etc.) The trickster spirit aspect is likely to please and bother an equal number of DMs and players, but there’s something very distinctive and rich about the image of the leshy, casting its woodland maze spell to bother players, open to negotiation to defeat local horrors, and perhaps offering a little light entertainment if that’s the table style. A key thing is that they’re dynamic, and do things. Their very ambiguity is useful – are they friends or foes? Depends! These are good, I think.
Marks: 3/5
 
LUPOSPHINX – 6 to 8 HD Sphinx
Print Status: Only in Dragon.
Comments: Evil dog-headed sphinxes! A nice reskin, and another evil sphinx is a fun thing. It has a magically terrifying howl, and often rules over gnolls or xvarts. This is a very distinctive type of encounter, and something fresh for players. Negotiate for secrets – answer riddles to gain mercy from someone you KNOW is untrustworthy – attack and slay a luposphinx who’s decided to strike out into the “local monstrous terror” business. Lots of ideas come up immediately. Sphinxes are interesting because they are repositories of wisdom, guardians of important locations, and so forth, and often require alternative means of handling – a more aggressive, distinctively themed sphinx gives a lot of variation on that. The pick of this Bestiary feature.
Marks: 4/5.
 
MUSICAL SPIRIT – 4HD Undead
Print Status: Only in Dragon.
Comments: So a Neutral Undead who teaches rare and incredible songs to those who speak to it, but whose 13^th song is unlucky and causes charmed, potentially fatal dancing – that’s good. The actual ecology of the creature as described, though, is dumb. They like being paid 5000gp or a few magic items for their first twelve. Why? What are they spending money on? Given they seem to be at least semi-ghostly (they can fly, high MR, resistant to non-magical weapons), are they holding the Bag of Magic Beans you give them? A redeeming feature, though, is the idea of the monster: potentially the spirits of druids and bards who don’t want to leave the forests they protected in life. Nice way to end up with Neutral Undead.
Marks: 3/5
 
SASHALUS – 2+2 to 4+4HD Fungus
Print Status: Also Pathfinder homebrew.
Comments: By Ed Greenwood! Sentient and ambulatory fungus. It fires poisonous spines with randomized effects. It talks to other sashalus by limited touch-telepathy. This is a nice idea, and does immediately get me thinking. You’re hired to retrieve the spines for an alchemist. The caves you’re exploring are overrun by these, hiding amidst the ordinary fungus. These guys are the only local sentients who have seen the bad guys – but can you communicate with them? Undoubtedly one of the more interesting “fungus man” ideas from the earlier days, without being record-breaking. Very fun.
Marks: 3/5
 
WENDIGO – 6HD Aberration
Print Status: 3^rd Edition Fiend Folio and other 3^rd Edition products.
Comments: Cannibals twisted by some form of magic to be an aberrant humanoid. Fairly quotidian – it’s a wendigo! Wendigo are thematically cool, though, so if the right tone is struck, this could be a very dangerous foe, especially for a low-level party stuck out on the taiga. They become the hunted, fleeing and setting traps and seeking by any means to escape...perhaps...taking shelter in that suspicious warm set of caves.
Marks: 2/5
 
WHISPERING PINES – 1-~180+HD Magical Plant
Print Status: Some 3^rd Edition homebrew chat.
Comments: Magical wood under great demand from enchanting maniacs. Druids convince treants to defend them! But they can defend themselves, too, with magical leaf susurration. I’ve told you enough: either you hate them or love them. I think they’re great. Very situational, granted, but a good environmental hazard (put them on a Woodland Locale Table for your Encounter Tables, and watch players bumble in) and a decent quest objective (you need the magic wood for a very good cause! Good luck convincing the grumpy Treant...OR Bad Magic Man wants the wood! YOU MUST SAVE THE FOREST!).
Marks: 4/5
 
WOOD GIANT – 7+7HD Giant
Print Status: Also 2^nd Edition Monstrous Compendium and Manual (as Voadkyn), and numerous other 2^nd Edition products.
Comments: These are fairly cool – chaotic good giants (the only dedicated CG type, I think) who aren’t super tall (averaging 9’), are very sneaky, and can polymorph into a variety of humanoids. I really like the idea, though the entry here doesn’t spark as many immediate ideas as some others. They might polymorph to join a group – that’s a good seed. They’re good but flighty and frivolous and like feasting – you might need their help but need to get their attention first. Decent with a lot of potential.
Marks: 3/5
 
WOOD GOLEM – 9HD Golem
Print Status: Also Kobold Press’ Creature Codex for 5^th Edition.
Comments: These are almost quotidian and “fine”, but a moment’s reflection renders them quite cool. Druids want construct protectors – naturally enough – and equally naturally turn to the materials of nature, creating guardians from the woods they protect. Of course, you could lightly reskin this...into, say, a wicker man! An evil pseudo-druid might well do such a thing to protect his dark cult on a remote island. The entry also includes proper instructions for making one in-game, and that’s always useful for a hook. Oh...you can also make one from the shell of a dead treant, and it becomes AC0 11HD. The ways spells affect the Golem are well imagined and described. Not an immediately compelling idea, but quite exciting upon consideration.
Marks: 4/5
 
Conclusion
A good bestiary, though very specific for biome. Definitely worth adding to your 1e game, or converting for 5e.