Blogs Are Where the Good Stuff Is

 EDIT:  Also, need to say somewhere: I went to see The Shape of Water last night, and it was pretty alright.  Probably won't watch it ever again but it's Guillermo del Toro doing his Fairy Tale + Melodrama thing again so you probably know if you like that kind of thing by now.  8/10, solid stuff, a good case for making Fishman an RCC in your campaign.

Every other week I DM a game of Pathfinder, the more fancily-dressed close cousin of D&D Vers. 3.5.  This Sunday will see the fifth session of my friends playing a run-through of Maze of the Blue Medusa, which interrupted our ongoing Wilderness Sandbox-cum-Power Politics campaign, dubbed The Eastwylde.  I don't know how long we will be playing Maze--my original idea was to run it until the players discovered the Megadungeon's exitway, which as I had correctly guessed took three sessions.  I then gave them the option of going back to Eastwylde, but having just endured a near-TPK they were "hot" to get back into the thick of the module and defeat it.  So, the game remains Medusa Maze for the forseeable future.

I wouldn't be running Medusa Maze at all if I hadn't spent the last two years ensconced in the world of OSR (or DIY if you prefer) Blogdom: a world which holds, in the words of my once-favorite webcomics author, "a catacomb so deep there ain't no goodbyes."  A glance to the right at my list of linked blogs provides a sampler of the biggest and best among those I read but there's always more; more creativity popping off like fireworks in this community at a superior level of average quality and originality towards anything else.  No one has ever written a line for Paizo who was fit to wash Arnold K's socks, seriously--or if they had such talent they had to suppress it for corporately-mandated Ikea prose describing the Warmed-Over Lovecraft/Burroughs Do Final Fantasy that is the World of Golarion.

Which brings me colliding into the contradiction at the heart of this blog.  Why am I breaking my back and consequently flopping like a fish to give the tone and pitch of all this rad, mad OSR stuff to my Pathfinder game when I could just, uh.... play AD&D or OD&D or any of the inspired descendants like ACKS and LotP?  I've sounded out my friends on this and they are in fact down to play AD&D or even Three Brown Books if it's what I want; two years behind the screen has earned me the benefit of the doubt at least I guess.

As I've covered elsewhere, I think 3.5 has  certain virtues of its own that aren't to be taken lightly.   And as much as I'm not a fan of most of Pathfinder's "improvements," at its core it is still that game.  There's also the practical bit, that it is basically the game I've played for 17 years.  I know the environment/light rules, and the elevation/crouching/prone/one-half vs three-quarters cover rules, and the rules for grenadelike weapons and even what to do if you want your character to grab an opponent.  That's not nothin'!   A good crunchy combat system is maybe worth the tradeoff of each Player Character being a super-tough battleship of interlocking systems such that PC death becomes a rare calamity. 

But the fact remains all the interesting ideas are in that OSR/DIY orbit.  I mean, have you ever visited Paizo's official forum?  GitP?  The Gaming Den?  By and large dead zones of the imagination.  Efficient counsel if you come to them with a specific rules question, but like, where are the ideas?  Why doesn't 3.5 have a Zak S and False Patrick making some really off the wall shit?  What is so deadening when the PCs can cast light at will and magic missile  three times per day?  Malnourished hacks have managed to write adventures for Superman for 80 years with a better success rate than you'd think so the answer is definitely not "power level."

 One thing I am not is a causologist.  I just made that word up.  What I mean is I don't think the fact that there aren't (or I haven't seen) any really inspired dungeons or settings or whatever coming out for 3.5/Pathfinder right now means there must be some failing inherent to that system; the simplest explanation may be no one's done it yet because no one's tried or the right tryer has yet to come along.  Heck, I could be that tryer.  I won't, I've got other things to do; in theory though, I could.

For the last couple weeks my out-of-session "homework" as DM has simply been to translate Zak and Patrick's combined madness into the rote numbers of a Pathfinder-compatible dungeon: tweaking and making a few small changes (like in room 206 I added an earth floor with a multitude of mushrooms, and I heavily altered room 1.  That's it).  In lieu of doing a lot of creative heavy lifting I have given my fumbling graphite drawings a little more exercise.  I've discovered actually filling in the background with blackness (as you'd see wandering in dark corridors by torchlight) will elevate a rude sketch quite a bit.  I've largely backed away from a lot of the original module's lethality and acquiesced to Pathfinder's base assumption that everything  can be resisted/evaded with a successful saving throw.  Even if the danger's not as high the Maze is still a weird, wonderful place my players have enjoyed nosing around in.  And they haven't even met any of the Torne Sisters yet, each of whom I want to introduce with a BIG (14x11") cool drawing.

 Since I began writing this post I have forgotten what the point I was coming to actually was.  This happens A LOT and is a big reason I blog infrequently.  That means I probably already made the point I wanted to so let's leave off here.

On Story Games, or: I'm Still Alive, Okay

More of the hexcrawl is coming. I am going to throw in a few Totally Sweet Drawings with the hex descriptions so that is taking some time.

I got a chance to look through the rules for DUNGEON WORLD today, so this is sort of a response to that. Despite the tone of this post I'd still play DUNGEON WORLD if asked, you know you only live once you got to try things blar blar blar.

The Tragedy of Herogar and Comfort Eating

One of the things that I hate to read in forum posts is that old chestnut, "I want to play a hero!" Because my response is, okay then, do it. I find the notion bizarre that a particular GM or a particular game could hold you back from roleplaying a heroic character. You don't need Fate Tokens or Hero Points or storytime interludes where you and the GM hold hands and share your dreams together. You want to be a hero, be heroic. "But without Plot Coupons (tm) that'll probably get me killed!" you say. Well, yes. Heroes don't tend to die comfortably in bed. C'est la guerre. "But so many deaths are just lame and pathetic! And anyway my idea of fun isn't playing a rat catcher who dies of sepsis in a gutter."


Okay, I'll go this far---I don't think you should be forced to play someone INCOMPETENT (which is what's implied by 'rat catcher,' nevermind actual rat catchers would have a ton of immediately useful skills for most dungeoncrawls but whatever) and you shouldn't be forced to play someone FEEBLE or PATHETIC. The assumption going into most D&D games is that even level 1 PCs are a cut above the common fabric---level 1 fighters are veterans, level 1 rogues are the toughest, wiliest guy on their corner, etc.--and that suits me fine. I think that should be the standard, with the most 'hardcore' method of 3d6-in-order-don't-name-the-guy-til-level-2 being the option, but it's kind of like do you say tomayto or tomahto, whatever.


Let's say you roll up a lvl 1 Paladin named Herogar. He's a studly stoical dude with a cool beard and a big ole greatsword. You proudly present a single-spaced page of handwritten backstory detailing his journey from dreamy farmboy to knight-errant, sprinkling the tale with lost love, a bitter rivalry and paths not taken. A taut, unpretentious piece, a springboard for greater things. You have high hopes for Herogar.


Your first dungeon. The Rogue is methodically prodding an iron door with a 10-ft pole while the party takes five. The jackass Bard plays inspire competence on his keytar. The DM rolls for a wandering encounter. Dire rats! six--no, eight, no--ten of them! There is a round of boos at the table. The DM weathers a sharp plastic pyramid to the face. Undaunted, he calls for initiatives. Herogar gets a 1. The rats charge, yellow diseased slaver foaming from their jaws. The rogue says something about being a ranged build and legs it, as does the bard. Once again, the skill monkies have made a mess and the tanks get the bill. No point in running in scale mail anyway--Herogar and Fallguy the fighter barely have time to brace before a carpet of shrieking, spitting mangy fur swamps them. The combat is over fast--Herogar is face down in his own blood, his flesh sheared off in chunks by the scythe-like teeth of the maddened rats. A gruesome end. His scattered bones will never be borne back to the farm.


Wasn't quite what you had in mind for poor Herogar. You have a few options at this point. You can conclude this DM and this campaign aren't for you, get up and leave. I can't say that's invalid. There'll be a place for you at RPGnet. After all it hurts to see potential wadded up and thrown away due to a mix of bad luck and letting someone play a Bard. It would have been one thing if Herogar went out on YOUR terms--say, if he squared up to the oncoming horde and cried "go, I'll hold them off!" that'd be how a Paladin ought to go out. But you didn't even get that. A few rolls and an anonymous death.


Or, you roll up Dave the Paladin. Dave is very similar to Herogar--they even have similarly heroic facial hair. You could almost say he's an echo of his fallen, unknown predecessor. There's a key difference though--Dave has opted for a one-handed weapon and heavy shield, prioritizing AC over offensive power. He also carries a bandolier of jars of lamp oil, each a potential flaming grenade. Not only will these deal fiery punishment to a target, if struck on the ground the molotovs can provide short but vital area denial---long enough to keep an adventurer from getting swarmed perhaps, and provide that vital window of time to run.


From a STORY perspective, there's no connection between Herogar and Dave. But taken from the perspective that you are playing a game--one with a learning curve and tricks to master--Herogar's death has meaning. He died so that Dave might be spared his mistakes. And perhaps Dave WILL get that heroic moment of sacrifice, a moment to be fondly recalled as an awesome moment of roleplaying in years to come. And it will come about not because some interlocking system of safety nets predestined it but because YOU EARNED IT. You earned that moment, and Dave will have earned his spot in Memorable Character Valhalla (or who knows, maybe he'll get to retire to a grand stronghold at the end of a storied career). Long after you forget whatever it was you called your PC's rival in their backstory, you'll remember the verdict of the dice, the careful planning, the anticipation.


Or maybe not. Maybe there's more of the dramatist than the gambler in your genes. D&D is a lot of things to a lot of people. All I know is ice cream earned tastes better than ice cream NOW, ice cream eaten for comfort food (to be honest, I don't actually like ice cream). Me, I love to gamble, and I lose a lot. Many a character of mine has bled out on the floor ignominiously, slain by the failure of my crappy chessex d20 (I keep forgetting to throw away the blue one). Even my characters who survived to become storied heroes have had downright humiliating failures, a stain forever on my character's psychic image of heroic prowess. The thing about games though, is to me they're only fun when they remain unpredictable. A game wherein you negotiate for the outcome you want ("I deal the dragon its death wound but lose my ancestral sword in its scaly hide as the beast tumbles into the crevasse") sounds less like a game to me and more like an acting exercise. I don't want to be given my success after a round of bargaining, I want to WREST it from an earnestly fought opposition through the right mix of planning and luck. That's the sweet spot for me, and I don't mind sacrificing a few made-up people (always more where they came from) to get there.

I have strong feelings about names, emotional problems

Names should mean something.  I hate, hate-hate-hate, more than anything else about Pathfinder's dumbness, the profusion of meaningless Star Wars names that pop up everywhere in Golarion.   Let me grab one out of Kingmaker, at random.  "Jhod Khavken."  What the fuck is that?  Okay I didn't pick it at random that's literally one of my least favorite names ever.  First off, I hate the English way of pronouncing J.  Take Spanish or Nordic, but what's this "juh" sound?  Feel that tingle behind your teeth when you make that noise?  I hate that.  Then that impact on the roof of your mouth with the "duh."  Both of those in close proximity are sort of unpleasant.  "Jod."  Stupid name.  You know who had a nose for stupid names?  George Carlin.  Maybe because George, with its two "juhs" in close proximity, isn't a great name.  I mean, it's a respectable name---obviously, it means "Farmer" and its most famous bearer is the knight of knights, yadda yadda, but I will never love it (although Greek Iorges and Russian Yuri are good).   Anyway George Carlin had it right---names that end in "duh" sound stupid.  "HI, I'M TODD."  Todd.  Todd.  Jod.  Jod.*  At least words like "justice" and "Jor-El" give you a little breather after the Juh.   SHUT UP I'M NOT DONE. 

*Genuine apologies to anyone named Todd or Rod reading this.  It's not personal.  Especially to New York Jets head coach Todd Bowles.  Sorry about your 2016 season.  

Kavken."  What even is that?  Is that supposed to be like, etymologically related to Kraken?  Cah-vuh (as in "Popol Vuh" or "Varoom") -ken.  Seriously?  You know what I love about Tudor England?  Like literally everybody was named Tom or John.  You need a name?  John Thomas, literally, just like, look at that John Thomas over there, ambling down Drury Lane.   I need to name an NPC?  Tom Jons.  Jon Toms.   Tall Jon.  Strong Jon.  Bald Thomas.   You know what you get when you name a random-ass NPC Bald Thomas?  An immediate connection to a real culture that exists, a sense of place and of the kind of traditions this place has.  You know at once there's a lot of Toms around so this guy is differentiated by the kind of unflattering nickname peasant mums are always flinging around.  You do the same thing in Spanish, by the way.  Everybody is called for their worst trait.   The guy with the saggy chest is Chichis.  The guy with thin eyes is Chino.  So-on.

Obviously, Paizo, I'm not asking you name your questgiving NPC Chino Jones  (but what about "Elf Jones?"  In a world where short, wiry elves with big anime eyes and pointy ears are a thing maybe small-framed guys get called Elf, Elfy, The Old Elfer, IDK).   You know what's a good NPC name?  Baldersnatch.  It's like "balderdash" but sounds bold, and grabby (he baldly grabs).  You'd reflexively tighten your fingers on your coin pouch the second your DM says "the guy running this place is a round geezer named Baldersnatch."  Okay, here's a better example: Rumpelstiltzkin.  Come on, that's a name that tells at once you this guy is dowdy (rumpled), maybe awkward (stilted), but with a name that long and complicated he can't just be dismissed. 

Give people a name like that, a name that has a sound.  A name that has character.   What the fuck is the character of Jhod Kavken?  Is he from Mos Eisley Spaceport?  At least Star Wars was doing a thing with, like, Obi-Wan Kenobi.  That dude has a deliberately weird kinda oriental sounding name so you instantly know, after being introduced to the Skywalkers and the Darklighters, that Old Ben's Really Not From Around Here.  Jhod.  Jhod.  Jehod.  God.  I hate that name.   And like I said, someone at Paizo is really in love with soft noises like "juh" and "sh," and just awkwardly mashing consonants that shouldn't go together together like "vuhhk" or "sht" (you think that swear exists because it's just a naturally unpleasant pairing of sounds?  Like "ffk?"  I may be on to something there).  It makes a lot of their dumb fantasy names viscerally unpleasant to read (oddly enough, the word "viscera" is kind of pleasant.  Just say that to yourself, "viscera, viscera, viscera.")   Should I make a list of consonants that pair well and ones that are dissonant?  Like "puh-luh" (pleasant, please) "puh-ruh" (pretty, prim), versus, well, "duh-suh" (dis, dys).  

Should I even post this or am I giving myself away as insane?   

e:  I TRIED TO FIX THE FONT SIZE AND IT WON'T FIX.  I WILL FIND JOHN BLOGGER OWNER OF BLOGGER LTD. AND I WILL KILL HIM 



ee:  Look at Tolkien, he knows what he's talking about.  "Ainur" and "Noldor" are pleasant sounding, almost soothing words.  "Grishnakh" is not pretty to any sensibility.  It's what we caricature middle eastern language as sounding like---durka, durka.   "Cavendish" is a very unpleasant, soggy name although it does force the lips apart at the sides as if one were speaking around a pipe, interestingly.  Also here's a name that's totally an exception to my rule about unpleasant noises: Jerjerod (as in, the Grand Moff).  Lots of Js, ends in Duh, sounds a little ineffectual but of noble bearing (you've got a "rod" in there like kings wield, the kingly color red, I dunno).


eee:  Just is an ugly word and rightly so.  It is an interjection ("Just----") and a harsh (hsh) thing, whereas I think we can agree it is more pleasant but not quite as exacting to be fair as opposed to just.