I had no idea this was “a thing.” Well, I knew that many magic items in 3E are basically pickled spells (potion of enlarge person, wand of lightning bolt, etc). I saw “wand of CLW” mentioned in some blog post, and I didn’t know what that was, so I did a web search. That led me to this thread with 200+ posts on the Paizo forums: The world without Wands of CLW.

Really, this is the “15 minute adventuring day” discussion in another guise.

For example, consider this post. He only sees three options: going back to the town after every encounter, having a healing surge mechanic, or having lots of magic items with healing powers (e.g., the wand of CLW). It never seems to occur to this person that another option is smart play so that characters are not always harmed.

From my point of view, it seems like many people no longer want to play games of adventure, they want to play games of combat. Combat games, coupled with campaign play, lead to a desire for consequence-free combat. Hence the desire for all the healing mechanics.

Here is another example from that thread:

Keep in mind that nobody said that having a purely support cleric is unneeded, but that cleric isn’t a healbot, yes he will do the occasional emergancy healing in combat but most of his time he will be removing conditions, buffing his allies and debuffing his enemies and between combat he will use wands of CLW to heal the damage of his allies because after UM even his channels might be more benefit for him in-combat.

No mention of problem solving, or exploration, or interpersonal interaction. This is not meant to be edition warring, more like edition exploration. This attitude is just very foreign to how I have experienced tabletop RPGs.

This article over at EN World, Combat as Sport vs. Combat as War, has been making the rounds of the OSR. It is a great article, and very insightful. I highly recommend that you read it if you have not. I originally saw the link in a post by Zak, which means you probably already have too. As you might suspect, I am in the combat as war camp, though since I am running a 4E hack game right now, aspects of both approaches make strong appearances.

But that is not (mostly) what this post is about.

Deep into the pages of responses that article generated the original author threw this out:

How I’m planning to start my next campaign is to have the PCs hired as henchmen by NPC adventurers. The PCs and their bosses march through the forest and then the NPCs leave the PCs outside the dungeon to watch their horses while they delve. Then the NPCs never come back. What do the PCs do?

What a wonderful campaign seed. I want to make sure it does not get lost.

Alignment is not something a character can be, alignment is a characteristic of a larger reality which a character can participate in. This is the way I am coming to see alignment. My largest influence has probably been LotFP alignment though my final conception ends up being slightly different.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. What was alignment originally? Men & Magic, page 9:

Before the game begins it is not only necessary to select a role, but it is also necessary to determine what stance the character will take – Law, Neutrality, or Chaos.

That’s it. The only other relevant pieces of information are the categorization of monsters by alignment and the wargaming context of alignment as affiliation (which side are you on?). That quickly expanded into the five-fold (Holmes) spectrum and the nine-fold (AD&D) two dimensional alignment plane, blending the dimensions of law/chaos with good/evil. And once B/X was published, the clear endgame became expanding the domain of law into the wilderness (by building and managing a stronghold). Though some would argue that this was also implicit in the original 3 LBBs. I am not sure Gary ever really saw evil and chaos as all that distinct. Here he is writing in The Temple of Elemental Evil (T1-4, page 27):

The cult was based on the premise that the elemental forces of the universe are Chaotic and opposed to mankind, and are thus (from a humanocentric viewpoint) Evil.

That seems to me perfectly in line with the original conception of alignment presented in OD&D, but with more knobs and switches bolted on.

So how have some of the recent games, specifically LotFP, tweaked this original concept? Well, for one thing, they have marinated it thoroughly in Lovecraft and sanded off some of the Moorcockian Eternal Champion edges (i.e., forces dedicated to maintaining the balance between law and chaos). Here’s the LotFP text (Rules & Magic, page 21):

Alignment is a character’s orientation on a cosmic scale. It has nothing to do with a character’s allegiances, personality, morality, or actions.

In LotFP, magic-users and elves are inherently chaotic because chaos is the source of magic. Chaos is also about destruction, entropy, and unmaking. Clerics are inherently lawful, because law is about conforming to a perfect and eternal plan. The vast majority of mortals are of alignment neutral, which has nothing to do with balance (or really anything else).

Another interesting take on alignment is contained in the Carcosa supplement (also heavily influenced by Lovecraft). Carcosan alignment has to do with one thing and one thing only: stance toward the Old Ones. Those who serve or wish to use the Old Ones are chaotic, those who fight them are lawful, and any person who doesn’t care one way or the other is neutral. In some ways, this is similar to the old wargaming conception of alignment. This is different than the “cosmic faction” style of alignment though because the Old Ones don’t really represent a faction. Neither side, either chaos or law, is organized at all. (I talk more about Carcosa here.)

Incidentally, there is one other conception of alignment that I think is intriguing. It is best expressed by the post Conan and Alignment over at Blood of Prokopius. Seriously, go read that post now if you haven’t. In the schema of Conan and Alignment, law and chaos are both about people: civilization and the good of the many (law) versus barbarism and individualism (chaos). This is a political rather than a metaphysical conception of alignment, as it is about who rules. This is in contrast to the traditional D&D conception of chaos, which is the wilderness. At the end of that post, FrDave brings the discussion back to sides (i.e., wargaming alignment), but I don’t think that is the right destination. After all, the point is that every political entity goes through these cycles of birth, maturity, decadence, and overthrow. (In a fantasy setting, political entities could obviously be more than just mundane states; think Mordor or even Heaven and Hell.) Someone who is on one side might find that side changing out from under their feet.

FrDave didn’t mention this, but a similar dynamic holds in a frontier setting as well, though it is directional rather than cyclical. Think of the American wild west and manifest destiny. Or the slow expansion of China westward into Central Asia during the Qing Dynasty. (Check out China Marches West by Peter C. Perdue for a fascinating treatment of this history.)

LotFP says: alignment is a character’s orientation on a cosmic scale. This is where my interpretation diverges. I would say: alignment is the character of cosmic reality. Forces can be chaotic, actions can be chaotic, but mortals can only harness those forces or take those actions. Characters can’t belong to an alignment so much as participate in the outcome of reality, which could result in areas of reality tilting one way or another. Action and outcome based, rather than essence and aspiration based. This conception retains many of the characteristics of heuristic-based alignment, however. For example, detect evil and protection from evil can continue to work in the same way. But characters never have to pick an alignment. They only have to decide whether or not that want to channel the dark entropy from beyond.

And finally, as mentioned above, dealing with the change of PC alignment was always awkward. Following this version of alignment has the nice side effect of circumventing that problem while still providing all the other benefits of alignment rules (being able to use protection from evil, compatibility with other products, adding to the danger and atmosphere of magic, support of the wilderness rollback endgame).

Note: I’ve been working on this post for a while, but was finally spurred to finish it by this post over at Unofficial Games, and I reused some of the language from my comment there.

9 February 2012 edit: a thoughtful response by FrDave can be found here:

http://bloodofprokopius.blogspot.com/2012/02/on-alignment-and-character-morality.html

Loviatar 6 has three features: Hex 002 in what I am going to call the Haldane Hexcrawl and two sets of characters for other modern RPGs (Chaosium’s Basic Roleplaying and Vampire: The Requiem).

I’m going to talk about the hex first, as I am primarily a D&D player. This hex feels like it has slightly less content than Hex 001, and it doesn’t have any mechanical innovations like the hex reward from Hex 001. That being said, it does have a very interesting twist with some lycanthropes which can result in some dramatically different outcomes based on player choice. This particular encounter also got me interested in checking out the old basic D&D splatbook Night Howlers (no mean feat). I’m also really digging the small gods vibe. It reminds me of kami from Japanese mythology and Shinto. This is the perfect scale for divinities in a hexcrawl.

There is a gothic (in the sense of literature) undertone to much of Christian’s work. Little tragic vignettes that on the surface seem prosaic or even bland. A pig farmer’s cart. A homestead off the beaten path. What lurks beneath is dark though, and not in terms of monsters (though there are some of those). Instead, the darkness is often human darkness like a crime or a jealousy.

I also love how actions in one hex affect adventuring in other hexes. For example, some entries in the random encounter tables are shared, and if they were defeated before they won’t show up in the current hex. In these hexes there are encounters that I imagine players may not investigate thoroughly (or just miss). In those cases, it would be interesting to keep a running list of “open loops” and periodically update their status. This would mean that the course of the PCs would always have consequences, even if that course entails avoidance or ignorance. Loviatar 7 (which should be making its way toward me as I write this) is entirely dedicated to Hex 003, which I am looking forward too.

I wonder: might we ever see some Haldane underhexes? By underhex, I mean dungeon content of course. I think such a feature would make a great addition to a future issue of Loviatar.

Now a bit about the BRP and Vampire features. Both are essentially collections of modern NPCs detailed for systems I don’t use. However, both ended up being directly useful. The rat breeder in the BRP feature is going straight into my current D&D game. One of the Vampire characters (Terrance specifically) also gave me an idea. I haven’t worked much with explicit themes before in games. Vampire (the game) says it is “about” retaining humanity. But what does that really mean? I would argue that it means finding a way to maintain yourself while in a bad situation, often (but not always) of your own making. Thus, the change from being a human to the drives of vampirism. This parallels how bad choices work in the real world. In more extreme cases, this bad choice is something like getting involved with a criminal organization. Or it could be an addiction that sprung up from just one sampling (because everyone has illusions of control). Once you are in, it is much harder to get out.

I am not generally a theological person, but this strikes me as a good description of evil: short term gain with willful ignorance of longterm cost. The devil always offers power, status, and satisfaction. Temptation. At least to begin with. The true implications only become salient later, both from abstaining or indulging. Encounters with these sorts of consequences would be very interesting, and nicely sidestep common RPG challenges (direct problem solving, mechanical combat). Not that there is anything wrong with the common challenges, but you know what is said about variety.

The Shadow People:

THE INVASION OF THE HALLUCINOGENIC PEOPLE FROM UNDEREARTH!

The had existed from time immemorial, hidden in a space warp far beneath the surface of the earth. Until now, their only form of nourishment had been a strange hallucinogenic grain. Now, they hungered for human flesh. The earth was to be their stockyards and mankind their meat…

Sign of the Labrys:

Earth was a weird and dire place after the plagues. The few humans who survived could not bear the touch of each other; they lived in the enormous, endless caverns hacked out of the bowels of the earth for the bombs that never came.

Oh, and on the back of Sign of the Labrys we are treated to this charming advertisement:

It is easy to forget how much society has changed over such a short period of time (this book is copyright 1963).

Ian over at Magician’s Manse has an interesting house rule for healing:

Rerolling hit points at the beginning of each adventure represents healing. Roll all your HD, if the total is greater than your CURRENT hp, use the new roll. Otherwise, you current hp is retained.

This is a great rule and I am going to adopt it. This has old school pedigree: in Empire of the Petal Throne, hit dice were rerolled upon gaining a new level. Such rerolling has a number of advantages:

1. Simplified healing math: no need to bother with exact downtime
2. Healing and gaining a new hit die are mechanically identical
3. PCs are not stuck with low rolls forever (or even for a level)
4. It reflects variation in health and preparedness
5. Healing and recovery are diegetic explanations; this is not “just” a game mechanic
6. Promotes a reversion to the mean in HP totals
7. Record hit dice on the character sheet and hit points on scratch paper

See also:

• OD&D Discussion: Hit Points and my Limited Brain
• Carcosa page 5 (Dice Conventions)
• Philotomy’s OD&D Musings: Hit Dice
• EN World: Gary Gygax on rerolling hit dice
• The Yaqqothl Grimoire: Castle Doom House Rules (interesting idea here: survivors regain 1d6 HP after a combat; maybe change to 1 hit die worth of healing if damage was taken)
• Grognardia: Dwimmermount Campaign House Rules (has a similar “liquid courage” post-combat HP recovery rule, but only usable once per session)
• OD&D Discussion: In defense of the original HD system
• Aeons & Augauries: Healing and Hit Points

Twitter has this convention called Follow Fridays where people post links to other Twitter users they think are worth following. So here’s a few other RPG blogs you might be interested in if you don’t already know about them.

I have limited this list to blogs that have been founded relatively recently. I also added a short note explaining the first thing that comes to mind when I think about the blog (not intended to pigeonhole anyone).

1. Built by Gods Long Forgotten – awesome creative tables in pretty PDFs
2. Dungeon Fantastic – GURPS Dungeon Fantasy & classic dungeon design
3. From Beyond the Drowning Woods – detailing a weird fantasy setting
4. Giant Evil Wizard – old school creations
5. Howling Tower – Steve Winter (an organizer of 2E) on D&D game design
6. Lost in Time – beautiful maps, creative rules analysis
7. Tales of the Grotesque and the Dungeonesque – interesting creations
8. Tartarus Press – player from 2E investigating the OSR
9. The Aspiring Lich – interesting rules discussion
10. Underworld Cleaning Service – new classes, comparisons of old school rule sets

Can you remember any memorable fantasy gods? The only one I can think of right away is Lolth. Tiamat and Bahamut almost count, I suppose, but they are halfway between god and legendary monster. I also remember Corellon Larethian and Moradin, but other than being “the god of elves” and “the god of dwarves” neither of them are interesting in the slightest. Vecna is also memorable, if you want to consider him a god. Actually, mentioning Vecna, a commonality with Lolth becomes clear: both were developed actively as nemeses in play rather than as setting dressing.

What about Set, the serpent lord? The Set of the Conan stories is certainly memorable and interesting. Or Loki, from the Thor comic? Both of those examples have something else in common: they come from actual world mythology. If you’re going to have a god of the underworld, why not just call him Hades? Does it add anything to create a new god of the underworld named Zarfleglok that has a slightly different portfolio of divine aspects? Keep in mind that unless you have an abnormally dedicated group of players, nobody other than you is likely to remember your new god’s name anyways. I also like the idea of tying gods to specific polities, much like Yahweh is depicted in the Old Testament: the god of the Israelites. Baal is also shown as the god of a rival city-state. And the guardian of Athens was Athena.

Fantasy settings with direct knockoffs of real world cultures usually bother me for some reason, especially if there are more than one such knockoff within the same setting. A setting that feels vaguely Celtic is okay, but if there is a fantasy Japan next door and a fantasy Rome across the ocean it just doesn’t work. Something about that sort of juxtaposition takes me out of the setting. One exception to this is if there is some diegetic reason for the juxtaposition, such as a series of dimensional gates, or aliens that have transported Earth cultures to some strange world.

I realize this may just be personal preference, but I suspect there is something more general going on here. Perhaps it is some sort of cultural version of the uncanny valley: close enough to be recognizable, but not close enough to be captivating. I remember being strongly put off by the Belgariad by David Eddings for exactly this reason (though to be honest I don’t remember the details anymore) and by the Seanchan from The Wheel of Time (a thinly disguised collection of East Asian tropes). This was one of the characteristics of fantasy genre fiction that drove me toward reading history instead.

For some reason, however, the Conan setting of Hyboria works where these other settings don’t. This is despite the fact that there are many clear analogs, including:

• Nordheim = Scandinavia
• Iranistan = Persia
• Stygia = Egypt
• Black Kingdoms = Africa
• Khitai = China

And many others. I normally don’t like to quote Wikipedia, but in this case it is too good to pass over:

The reasons behind the invention of the Hyborian Age were perhaps commercial: Howard had an intense love for history and historical dramas; however, at the same time, he recognized the difficulties and the time-consuming research needed in maintaining historical accuracy. By conceiving a timeless setting – a vanished age – and by carefully choosing names that resembled our past history, Howard avoided the problem of historical anachronisms and the need for lengthy exposition.

Perhaps the problem is that some modern fantasy settings borrow from real cultures without acknowledgment. They have a totally made up map, but with various recognizable cultural signs scattered about that don’t quite seem to fit. Hyboria has no pretension to being an entirely contained and internally consistent mythos. More Wikipedia (same page):

The geographical setting of the Hyborian Age is that of our earth, but in a fictional version of a period in the past.

The map is also recognizably earth-like.

Now, I realize that some people may have their immersion interrupted by the use of real world mythology much as I am put off by culture juxtaposition as described above. I would point out, though, that most fantasy games import other culture-bound elements of real world mythology (dragons, hydras) without problems. Why is a hydra more at home in D&D than a ninja? I’m not exactly sure, but it does seem to be.

There is something else to say here regarding the ever more self-referential nature of Dungeons & Dragons, and how to combat it. (There are commercial reasons behind this too, as the invented mythology of, for example, Eberron becomes a property that can be controlled more easily than mythology with historical roots.) By drawing directly from real world mythology with no pretensions to complete world-building, one nips the canon-forming tendency in the bud and in addition makes the game setting more accessible to new players. It also works for a setting with a more monotheistic bent (and early D&D was implicitly Christian in many ways).