B40 Normal Human

Revisitation: a series of posts that each feature a quote from a classic source along with a short discussion. Quotes that make me question some previous assumption I had about the game or that seem to lead to otherwise unexpected consequences will be preferred.

This entry comes from the Normal Human monster entry in Moldvay Basic (page B40):

A normal human is a human who does not seek dangerous adventure. A normal human does not have a class. … As soon as a human gets experience points through an adventure, that person must choose a character class.

So this is how humans in Moldvay D&D become adventurers: not by training, not by having exceptional ability scores, but rather by sheer audacity.

Retainers (at least the kind recruited in a tavern) should probably have the statistics of normal humans. Once they survive their first excursion into the underworld or wilderness, perhaps the player of their employer should be allowed to select the retainer’s class? That would help give the player a stake in the fate of the retainer, and maybe also be a good time to introduce the traditional idea of the retainer as a PC-in-waiting. I’ve liked that idea ever since I read about it, but I have never seen it used in play.

Finding a retainer with a class (like some of the NPCs in Bone Hill) could be a special occurrence, almost form of treasure or reward, rather than a disposable grunt. Especially if that means that dying means that you go back to level N (where N is the level of your highest retainer) rather than level 1. That, however, is probably anathema to many new school players, who suffer from “my precious character” syndrome just as much as many referees suffer from “my precious encounter” syndrome. Many people are only happy with wish-fulfillment characters, which also undergirds much of the drive for being able to control every aspect of character creation.

When discussing normal humans, it is also perhaps worthwhile to note that many monsters in the bestiary are in fact thinly disguised versions of other monsters with minor cosmetic changes and trivial rules differences. There are four alternate type of troll, for example, in the Fiend Folio (giant troll, giant two-headed troll, ice troll, and spirit troll, in case you were curious). I would argue that most of the humanoid races as presented in D&D are pretty much just this. Much like the aliens of Star Trek, they are just humans in makeup.

James Raggi said it better than I could. In the LotFP Grindhouse Edition Referee Book, he wrote (page 51):

Humanoids are basically man-like creatures who have a gimmick and are present merely to give PCs intelligent, organized opponents which can be slaughtered wholesale with little reflection, remorse, or consequence.

Whenever you think to introduce a humanoid, just ask yourself, “Why would these not work as humans?” Much of the time it is of the desire to not portray humans of a barbaric bent as savages.

This also allows the referee to keep the truly monstrous humanoids waiting in the wings for portrayals such as Beedo’s Orcs of Gothic Greyhawk or my own Goblins as Corruption. And to make more use of the monster entry on page B40: the normal human.

Carcosa in detail

In Carcosa, almost all of the identifiable tropes of D&D are gone, yet the essence remains. There are no dragons, demi-humans, magic-users, or magic items. There is little overlap in the bestiaries other than the oozes, slimes, molds, and jellies (which are cleverly recolored to fit the setting but otherwise pretty much the same).

The LotFP version of this book has a somewhat odd status. Originally, Carcosa was published as a supplement to the 1974 D&D rules. Though that was seen as presumptuous by some, it made the intended use of the book obvious, at least to someone who was familiar with OD&D and its supplements. Carcosa the saddle-stapled digest book was easily identifiable as the same sort of book as, for example, Supplement II: Blackmoor. This new release of Carcosa is not, in and of itself, identifiable in the same way, though it is still the same sort of book at its heart. This is not a problem for me, but may be for someone less familiar with the OSR community and OD&D in general.

I have organized my thoughts around the entries in the table of contents, which I arranged into several groups of related items and reordered. These groups represent the five different types of content in the book.

Setting

  • Sorcerous Rituals
  • Monster Descriptions
  • Carcosa Campaign Map

These sections are the most tightly bound to Carcosa the setting. The most impressive thing to me is how integrated all these different parts are. Most games separate these parts (think about the PHB, Monster Manual, and campaign setting split of most D&D products). For example, with every monster is a listing of relevant rituals. And many rituals require components which can only be gathered in specific locations (or must be performed in particular locations). I suppose you could steal a hex here, a ritual there, and a few monsters, but if you just pick and choose bits from these sections, you will not be taking advantage of these linkages. This is a template for how to put together a really engaging hexcrawl campaign. Make all the different categories of rules and setting interrelated. The way the pieces fit together, the whole is definitely greater than the parts.

I would love to see a reworking of the classic D&D magic system along similar lines. Take all the original spells, flavor them up, and then scatter the components required over the hex map. Up the power a bit so that they are more impressive, and also include elements like making spell X only functional at certain times or in certain places. I would be all over that.

  • Space Alien Technology
  • Technological Artifacts of the Great Race
  • Technological Artifacts of the Primordial Ones
  • Desert Lotus

Now we come to the toys. That is, things that PCs might play with. The Space Alien Technology functions, I imagine, much like the magic items function in other games (though obviously with a different flavor). There is a random generators in the back for Space Alien Armament also. The “technological artifacts” are likely to be rarer (like artifacts in D&D). You will notice that three of those four categories are the technology of higher-order beings, which highlights one of the main themes of Carcosa (and, in turn, of H. P. Lovecraft, one of Carcosa’s spiritual progenitors): the universe is a vast and unknown place which was not built for the comfort of humans.

Other than humans (the only option for PCs), there are three other major types of being. Space Aliens are about what you would expect from the name. The Great Race is something like Robert E. Howard’s Serpent Men. And Primordial Ones (also called the Old Ones) are incomprehensible, mostly disgusting, Cthuloid entities (many named creatures taken directly from the pages of H. P. Lovecraft). This forms a hierarchy of beings, with humans on the bottom rung, followed by Space Aliens and the Great Race (I’m unsure which of those should be considered more sophisticated or powerful), with the Old Ones at the top of the food chain. Humans don’t really have anything to their name, other than sorcery (which is really just borrowed from the Great Race).

All of these are well-crafted and evocative, and could easily be dropped into any game, or inspire your own artifacts.

Fungoid Gardens of the Bone Sorcerer

This is an intro module. It also functions as a nice template for how to detail a village without going overboard. Paired with a nice, quick method of randomly generating a village layout (think something like Vornheim), and some practice using such a system on the fly (I’m still getting there), I think this is all you need.

The module is a single 10 mile hex blown up into sub-hexes of 704 yards and includes a number of mini-encounters, adventure hooks, and one small dungeon. I wonder how many such hexes Geoffrey has detailed for his own campaign?

Random generators

  • Spawn of Shub-Niggurath
  • Space Alien Armament
  • Random Robot Generator
  • Mutations

This is the most setting-agnostic part of the book, and all of these random generators are easily repurposed, even for games with less gonzo flair. Mutations could be used to add flavor to NPCs, or as the result of a botched spell. The random robot generator is also a random golem (or automaton) generator in clever disguise. The Spawn generator cranks out minor (though still dangerous) Cthuloid entities.

These parts of the book are very strong, and should be useful to every old school ref. One can’t have too many random monster generators (at least, I am far from my saturation point).

New rules

  • Characters
  • Dice Conventions

At first I felt like the sorcerer class was superfluous. My concern was not originally about balance (the sorcerer might be fighter+, but that comes at the cost of slower advancement). Here is Geoffrey’s explanation for why the Sorcerer is a separate class:

I imagine Sorcerers as men who had to spend 10+ years learning the intricacies of the esoteric language of the lost Snake-Men, and twisting their minds in such a way as to be able to comprehend and effectively perform sorcerous rituals. (Consequently, I can’t imagine any Sorcerers under the age of 30.) Being able to do this is a lifetime commitment. There are no dilettante Sorcerers. Nobody could ever say, “I’m not a Sorcerer, but I’m going to spend the weekend learning how to conjure and bind the Inexpressible Presence of Night.”

And that makes sense to me. It would have been nice if he had said as much in the book. I would probably differentiate the sorcerer a little more, just to emphasize that very difference (a different hit die would work, but for the dice conventions). Also, if sorcerers have spent 10+ years mastering the intricacies of sorcery on such a primitive world, why do they get the same base attack bonus as fighters? I would probably cut that in half, or go the LotFP route and have sorcerers never get better at fighting. The game would also function if you imported any classic set of classes, and allowed anyone to perform rituals given the proper components and configuration, though the feel would change slightly.

I think the dice conventions are important, though they are likely to seem very foreign to many readers. They show the level to which D&D can be hacked and still maintain integrity. I believe a similar idea was originally introduced with either Arduin or Tekumel (I haven’t read either yet, but vaguely recall someone mentioning that on a forum). Personally, I don’t think I would like to re-roll hit dice (and with variable dice type to boot) for every combat, but the idea of re-rolling hit dice per-level or per-session is intriguing. And it means that you might catch Cthulu on an off day (though one might argue the same thing could be achieved with less overhead by just rolling hit dice, as you could still roll all ones). I think there may be a typo in the dice conventions table lookup example. A minor issue, but still unfortunate given that I can see this section being confusing to some.

Conclusion

This is a fantastic book, and a fantastic toolbox for classic D&D. It is perhaps the most aesthetically attractive book in my RPG collection. Oh, and did I mention the art? It is wonderful. All by Rich Longmore. I like the unity. This is art direction done well. Like the Planescape of Tony DiTerlizzi (which is a setting that I have come to not particularly care for, though I still adore it for the art). I didn’t expect this, but I find myself wanting to run Carcosa out of the book, no house rules, completely on its own merits (I had planned on just using it as a toolbox).

Starting Equipment

Here is a method for randomly determining starting equipment by class. This is intended for B/X type D&D (or similar games) and the tables have been engineered so that they work no matter the class.

Cowards may, of course, choose rather than roll.

dH = hit die (e.g., fighter dH = d8, magic-user dH = d4)


Weapons
Roll 2dH twice for beginning weapons; re-roll duplicates if desired.

  1. Hand axe (can be thrown)
  2. Club, cudgel, or truncheon
  3. Sling (ranged)
  4. Dagger (can be thrown)
  5. Quarterstaff
  6. Crossbow (ranged)
  7. Short sword
  8. Long sword
  9. Short bow (ranged)
  10. Mace
  11. Battle axe
  12. Spear (bulky, can be thrown)
  13. Long bow (bulky, ranged)
  14. Halberd or other pole arm (bulky)
  15. Two-handed sword (bulky)

Armor
Roll dH for beginning armor.

  1. No armor
  2. Shield
  3. Leather
  4. Leather & shield
  5. Chain
  6. Chain & shield
  7. Plate
  8. Plate & shield

Equipment
Roll d20 four times; re-roll duplicates if desired.

  1. Holy water
  2. Wolvesbane
  3. Belladonna
  4. Garlic
  5. Small mirror
  6. Mallet & stakes (6)
  7. Small hammer & Iron spikes (12)
  8. Grappling hook & rope (50 feet)
  9. Tinder box & Torches (6)
  10. Lantern & flasks of oil (3)
  11. Ten foot pole
  12. Rations
  13. Tent & bedroll
  14. Fishing gear
  15. Lockpicks
  16. Book, pen, ink
  17. Riding horse, tack, saddlebags
  18. Mule, tack, saddlebags
  19. Canoe & paddle
  20. Ancient super science battery
Batteries will have a limited number of charges. The referee should track charges secretly.


Design Notes

Each PC begins play with:

  • Two sets of travelling clothes
  • Backback
  • Belt pouch
  • Water skin
  • 3 empty sacks (for loot, of course)
  • 2d10 gp
Additional equipment is rolled on the equipment table above (4d20, as specified).
Any class can use any weapon or armor (though armor decreases movement through encumbrance and penalizes actions requiring fine motor control); characters do dH damage.

Using 2dH to select weapons creates a probability curve.

The most common weapons by dH:

  • d4: dagger, followed by slings and quarterstaffs
  • d6: crossbow, followed by quarterstaff and short sword
  • d8: long sword, followed by short sword and short bow

It is only possible for classes with dH = d8 to begin with the heaviest military weapons, or to begin with any bulky weapons.

Armor possibilities by dH:

  • d4: no armor through leather & shield
  • d6: no armor through chain & shield
  • d8: no armor through plate & shield

Also note that in many systems, 10 minus (armor dH roll) = AC. Though not important, this is a pleasant symmetry.

Any character may try to pick locks using a set of lock picks. Non-thieves have a flat 1 in 6 chance, adjusted by dexterity. That is, a character with extraordinary dexterity (13 or higher) has a 2 in 6 chance.

Quick Weapon Observation

I should have included this in my weapon damage by hit die post, but I didn’t think of it then. Check out this simple table of correspondences:

  • Fighter hit die: d8
    Iconic weapon: long sword (d8 damage)
  • Cleric hit die: d6
    Iconic weapon: mace (d6 damage)
  • Magic-user hit die: d4
    Iconic weapon: dagger (d4 damage)

That is, characters playing to type in B/X D&D naturally do hit die damage. The relationship breaks down slightly when ranged weapons are considered. Long bows inflict d8 damage and slings inflict d4 damage, fitting the pattern, but what ranged weapons do clerics use? If it’s a crossbow with a wooden stake, we are in business. In any case, the point here is not that this is an iron-clad rule, merely that it is a tendency.

The thief/rogue actually fits this pattern relatively well too, with dagger/short sword, and d4/d6, respectively. This also reflects the change from the thief (sneaky, bad at combat) to the rogue (stealthy, striker).

The main benefit of damage by hit die is to reduce a rather complicated table reference (the weapon damage chart) to an easily memorable rule. This is similar to what Talysman is trying to do (*) with his Liber Zero clone project. Note that this is not a core mechanic, which may have only one kind of resolution mechanism, but may also have a huge number of very specific rules for modifying the target number based on circumstances. Easily memorable elements may use several different resolution mechanisms, but they must not rely on a large corpus of external rules to function.

(*) – In his own words:

one of my personal goals with Liber Zero (quickly becoming the central goal of LZ) is to strip the game down to easily-memorizable elements so that the game can be played without reference to books

See here for more details.

Type V Thoughts

At first I thought that I would have nothing to add to the deluge of reactions to the fifth edition announcement. On reflection, I do have a few things to say.

  1. Consider this my signature on the Jeff Rients Type V petition (following the lead of Grognardling).
  2. Also, this one. I would be first in line to buy a high-quality collectable coffee table compilation book of old modules and adventures. I bet many people would, even those don’t actively play.
  3. Obviously, I would like to see legal PDF sales return (hopefully with higher production values this time around). Personally, I would be even more excited about a print on demand option, which might even be more acceptable to the company, as they might see it contributing less to piracy. However, if old content becomes available, I predict it will be something like a digital-only “D&D Archive” which will require a continuous D&D Insider (or whatever they choose to call it) subscription. That would pull in Grognard dollars without exactly competing with other offerings.
  4. Say a record company owned the rights to the back catalog of The Beatles, Elvis, and The Rolling Stones. Why would they be so stupid as to not market that back catalog? Rights to the old D&D products have the same status within the tabletop RPG community. And the content is already created; only minimal production work would need to be done. Would any record exec seriously argue that some teenager would be less likely to buy the new Gaga album because Johnny Cash material was available? What am I missing here?
  5. I haven’t been following the recent Wizards game design posts that closely, but I have read a few of them. It sounds to me like they want to seriously modularize the rules. That is a good thing, especially if they really emphasize that fiddly subsystems (e.g., skills, feats, psionics) are truly separate. I think there is a chance they might go this way with feats, but I seriously doubt they will remove skills from the core. Based on a realistic appraisal of the overall community of tabletop RPG players, I think the skills doubters (I belong to this group) are a tiny minority.
  6. If I were WotC, I would want the casual, Walmart market. This group, by lucky coincidence, might have the same requirements as those of us that prefer light rules.

Carcosa-Inspired Psion Class

Here is a super-simple class inspired by the Carcosa psionics system.

  • Hit die: d6
  • Level advancement: as cleric
  • Base attack bonus: as thief
  • Power uses per day: level / 2 (round up)
  • May also pay 1d6 HP to use a power
  • Only surprised by sentient beings on a 1 in 6
  • Weapons: any
  • May not use psionic powers if wearing a helmet

Each level, roll for (or select, you cheater) a new psionic talent (re-roll dups):

  1. Clairaudience
  2. Clairvoyance
  3. ESP
  4. Mental Blast
  5. Mind Control
  6. Precognition
  7. Telekinesis
  8. Telepathy
Consult the Carcosa book for power descriptions (or use appropriate magic-user spells).

More thoughts on the entirety of the new Carcosa book coming soon.

Dragon Draft

HD 3-18+, AC as plate, 3 attacks or breath, move 90′, fly 240′, morale 9, # 1

A dragon’s age and power are reflected by hit dice. To determine dragon hit dice randomly, roll 3d6. If the result is all sixes, roll another d6, adding the result to the previous total. Continue this procedure as long as sixes are rolled.

Hit dice also determines the damage inflicted by a dragon’s fiery breath. For example, a 12 hit die dragon will do 12 dice of damage to all in the area of effect (half damage if a save is made). Once a dragon has breathed fire, they must wait 1-3 rounds before they can breath again. Breath weapon damage dice, like standard hit dice, are always d8s. The breath weapon range is equal to the number of hit dice multiplied by 10 feet, and it spreads out like a cone (the dragon has approximate control over the cone width).

Dragons may either breath fire or make up to three physical attacks (these could be bites, claws, tail slams, or any other kind of attack that makes sense in the situation at hand). Each physical attack does one die of damage. The die used should be that closest to the total number of hit dice the dragon possesses. For example, an 8 hit die dragon does d8 damage per hit. A 9 hit die dragon would do either d8 or d10 damage per hit (decide beforehand, determine randomly, or alternate).

Dragons are huge, scaled, lizard-like, fire-breathing monsters of great cunning, greed, and intelligence. Their intelligence, however, is of an alien sort. Being almost entirely self-sufficient, they have little use for society or technology, and are unable to relate (other than superficially) with lesser beings regarding these matters. They seek only treasure, ever growing domain, and occasionally worship. Unlike most creatures, age only adds to a dragon’s power. Surviving wyrmlings become ever more dangerous.

The youngest dragons are pony-sized, and generally grow until they reach the size of an elephant in body (though their length from nose to tail and wing span will be much greater). Though there seems to be no absolute limit on dragon size, the rate of their growth does slow significantly once they have reached that size. In color, their scales are inky black, earthy brown, mouldy green, rocky gray, or bloody crimson (or some combination thereof). Dragons enjoy eating any kind of meat, particularly living meat, though they do not require it for sustenance. A dragon deprived of meat for too long, however, will become surly.

Dragon reproduction is mysterious. They are thought to hatch from eggs, but have never been found in mated pairs and will rarely cooperate. They are by nature agents of chaos, and logic suggests that they would burn themselves out over time. However, this has not happened.

A dragon can be subdued by nonlethal damage. A subdued dragon will turn on their master if they perceive weakness, but will otherwise continue to serve as long as they are fed well and rewarded with treasure (a good rule of thumb would be about half of treasure accumulated). Dragons will also generally challenge their master when they have grown into another hit die, but this will sometimes take longer than their master’s lifespan. Such dragon lords often become petty tyrants, though their rule rarely lasts long due to the inherent instability of the relationship.

Source: Ljubljana Dragon

Design Notes

I think that in later versions of D&D, dragons have come to be somewhat deified. I don’t like this. I think that dragons should be fearsome and terrifying, but I don’t think you should need to be a demigod to challenge one. A young dragon should be something that could be run down by a fourth level fighter with a lance (given some luck), or even found on the first level of a dungeon.

In terms of style, there is a tension between the monstrous dragon and the sleek panther-like dragon. The sleek dragon has come to dominate fantasy art. The monstrous dragon tends to look more like it came from a fairy tale, and is often (though not always) fat. For examples, see the Holmes basic set dragon, the Rankin/Bass Smaug, the animated Flight of Dragons movie, or almost any painting of St. George and the dragon. For examples of the sleek dragon, see current D&D dragons and the work of Jeff Easley. I am interested in portraying a more mythic dragon, though still influenced by Tolkien’s Smaug. None of the gimmicky multicolored D&D chromatic dragons. My dragons all breath fire.

Regarding behavior, I want to emphasize that dragons do not live by the same rules as mortal races. I picture dragons as intelligent, but alien and prone to underestimating others.

Incidentally, I didn’t stick that bit in their about dragons not needing food for sustenance with any particular goal in mind; it just felt right given their embodiment of ever-growing power and danger. This, in concert with the growth of dragons due to increasing hit dice, might however explain why dragons sometimes get stuck underground. I’m not going to look that gift horse in the mouth. Maybe they even originate in the underworld and must reach the surface before they grow too big. Or maybe, like adventurers, they go underground in search of treasure, but sometimes outgrow their entrance.

In OD&D, total hit dice varied by dragon type, but age (and hit points per die) were determined by one d6 roll (1 being very young, 6 being very old). A similar procedure is used by the original Monster Manual, though a d8 is used instead. This is interesting, but odd. It means that given a 10 hit die dragon, there only exist dragons with hit point totals in a multiple of 10. I like the identification of age with hit dice, but rather than vary the HP per hit die (is that done with any other monster?), why not vary the number of hit dice for age? This also scales the attack bonus, which makes sense to me.

Traditionally, in both OD&D and B/X, breath weapon damage is non-random. It does automatic damage equal to the dragon’s remaining HP. I changed this because I like uncertainty, I like to roll dice, and I don’t like to expose monster health meters.

The rules for dragons take up an inordinate amount of space in pretty much all the editions I have looked at. Despite that, I still feel like my draft is a bit too wordy. Three paragraphs of rules and four of flavor. Any tips or suggestions are welcome (as always).

Nomenclatura

I have always considered naming things to be a hard and important task in tabletop RPGs, on both sides of the screen. Much of the flavor of a game setting is communicated via the names, especially for homebrew settings that don’t have extensive canonical literature with illustrations. Probably the largest effect of gaming on the non-gaming parts of my life has been the constant mining of everything I encounter for names. Novels, street signs, captcha forms, anything. Even when I was not actively gaming, I still kept lists of names. Dada’s little baby namer has also been a frequently used resource.

If you had any doubt about the power of naming in the real world, you need to look no further than our own little echo chamber.  Giving concepts like sandbox, megadungeon, agency, railroading, and tent-pole easily remembered names gives them power. Half of software engineering is probably built around managing complexity through abstraction and naming.

The power of the true name can also be the basis of magic in folklore and fantasy. Le Guin’s A Wizard of Earthsea is probably the most influential source of this trope in mainstream fantasy, but it also shows up in Cook’s The Black Company and Rothfuss’ recent The Name of the Wind.

Good naming for tabletop RPGs follows different principles from other media, mostly because the names are often communicated verbally rather than visually. Names that are too complicated will probably not stick. Also, players tend to have notoriously short attention spans for setting detail. One solution to this that can work with some groups is to allow players to name some things as they come into contact with them or if they are connected in some way with a PC’s background.

I just finished reading The Black Company, and I have to say I am quite taken with the simple naming style. Names include Croaker, Silent, Goblin, One-eye, and Elmo. I think this style would work wonderfully for D&D; it doesn’t take itself too seriously (if you try to make something sound self-consciously serious, I guarantee some other player will satirize it), and such names are easy to remember.

Despite all this, the name of one of my longest-played characters (an elf wizard in second edition) was lifted whole-cloth from one of R. A. Salvatore’s lesser-known non-D&D books (The Woods Out Back): Kelsenellenelvial Gil’Ravadry, or Kelsey for short. In my defence, I can only say that at least I didn’t name him Drizzt.


Magic item: Nomenmancer’s Wand

(2d4 charges)

The nomenmancer’s wand is a slender rod several hands long crafted of an unknown metal. If examined closely, it is clear that the wand’s form is like that of very elongated tetrahedron (a four-sided solid with triangular faces, one of which is the base). Tiny runes, symbols and characters cover the three long sides, fading into nothingness as they approach the tip.

The wand stores true names.

The wielder of the wand gains a +10 bonus to saving throws versus spells cast by any specific entities whose names are so stored.

The wand may also be used as a stylus to prepare a scroll of command. Such a scroll functions as the charm person spell, but only for the entity in question. No saving throw is allowed initially, though saves may be attempted later (based on intelligence) as per the charm person spell description. Creating such a scroll discharges the name. Command scrolls may be used by any class, much like protection scrolls.

Any entity that becomes aware their name is stored in a nomenmancer’s wand will stop at nothing to recover it.

Methods for recharging the wand have been lost to the mists of time.