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 1st
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 5th-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, 4th or 5th or even 8th 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 2nd 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 1st level to loot a warehouse’s
surprisingly extensive cellars? It was an Illithid! Or an Arcane! You’re 2nd
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 6th and 7th 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 1st-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.
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.)
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?
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 6th and 7th level after 200 days of continuous adventuring with breaks for training.)
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 1st-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.
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