Three Things I Love about DCC

The first thing I fell in love with about Dungeon Crawl Classics RPG (DCC) was the new take on the fighter - thanks to the wonderful 'Mighty Deeds of Arms' mechanic.

It works like this: Among other perks, the 'Warrior' class gets a damage bonus (starting at +d3 and progressing to +d4, +d5 etc.). This bonus die also determines success or failure for any special maneuver you'd like to make up during the game (disarming an enemy, swinging from a chandelier etc.).

The mechanic is granular enough to be intuitive ("You wanna push him over the cliff? You'll need to roll a 4+ on your deed die.") and doubles as a reasonable damage (and attack) bonus. I'd personally prefer a trade-off (e.g. bonus damage or special maneuever) but that's easily house-ruled.

The mechanic constitutes a sub-system of its own and demonstrates that - far from needlessly complicating a set of rules - this approach can provide tailor-made solutions. Using the standard d20 resolution mechanic ("Pushing over a cliff is a DC 15 check.") would have required an extra roll or similar contortions.

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The next thing I adore is that magic is inherently dangerous. Spell castings can go awry and displease the character's deity (clerics) or cause corruption (wizards).

This captues the feel of Appendix N fiction very nicely and solves the problem of magic being a reliable everyday resource. I don't want to think about settled wizards casting their daily allotment of spells and thereby competing with craftsmen etc. and requiring me to rethink the whole quasi-medieval world.

To this end (i.e. dangerous magic), the DCC rules provide many magnificent tables. Every spell has its own table with information on effects, side-effects, failure and so on.

These tables make up the bulk of the massive book (480+ pages) and make it a steal at $40. It's easy to lift ideas like Mighty Deeds for your own game, but lovingly detailed, well-made tables are invaluable. 

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There are numerous other things I applaud (the character funnel, the Luck stat, the supporting line of adventure modules, the attitude) but if I had to choose just one more thing to single out for praise, it would be Doug Kovacs' outstanding dungeon maps (check out some samples here).

I find them very useful at the table. The artistic detail makes it easy to (a) remember what a room was all about -- which means less flipping through the adventure -- and (b) to envision the atmosphere and improvise evocative descriptions on the spot. This is vastly superior to reading out boxed flavor text (also provided by the adventures, if that's your thing) or hunting down the description of room 9b or whatever.

Perhaps more importantly, they look so damn cool that they make me want to run the corresponding adventure (or something of my own devising for that map). It's all well and good to have classic blue-and-white maps but to me, nothing screams "Run this adventure!" more loudly than Doug Kovacs' maps.

What is Old School?

The OSR blogosphere has been struggling with the terms 'old school' and 'old school renaissance' more or less since the beginning. Needless to say, I have explained my personal trinity of old school gaming, too.

Matthew Finch's excellent Quick Primer for Old School Gaming is not a concise definition but one of the best and probably the most widely accepted explanations.

If you're like me and still interested in tackling these terms and what they mean to you, then here's an experiment:

A friend calls you and invites you to a game. His cousin is in town. He's a gamer and has offered to run a one-shot game. You have no information except that your friend characterizes one aspect of the upcoming game as 'old school'. What are your expectations?

1) "My cousin is an old school DM."

I'd expect a DM whose word is law and who has no qualms about killing off PCs. <gulp>

The term 'dungeon master' (rather than GM, judge, referee etc.) actually encapsulates this perfectly. The word 'dungeon' suggests danger and 'master' signifies a figure of authority and competence. The combination implies an adversarial role.

2) "He's going to run an old school adventure."

I'd be surprised if this turned out to be anything but a dungeon crawl. Killing things and taking their stuff will be the order of the day. Bring it on!

A wilderness adventure would be my second guess if this wasn't a one-shot affair.

3) "He's using an old school system."

The rules (a) are out of print and (b) have been superseded by later editions.

By that spontaneous definition neither Labyrinth Lord nor Call of Cthulhu qualify.

The former is a retroclone, available for purchase in places other than eBay and thus feels like a modern game to me (albeit one that celebrates and revivifies the old).

The latter isn't 'old school' because there has never been a serious split in the community. Different editions exist but to me an 'old school system' is one that is chosen over a later edition. The rejection of the later edition is part and parcel of the old system in this age, whether you like it or not. OD&D is not just defined by what it is, but also by what it isn't (4e, for instance).

4) "The adventure takes place in an old school setting."

There's no such thing as an old school setting. So we're either looking at a gloriously half-baked homebrew fantasy setting (which has probably been in development and in use for years) or no setting at all (beyond the PCs' immediate surroundings).

The former seems more likely, as it's been called out as a feature. If it were Tekumel, your friend would have said 'Tekumel', not 'old school setting'.

Of course I'm aware that venerable settings like Greyhawk might qualify as 'old school' but the above is just what my gut reaction would be (and this goes for the other points as well -- this is not an analysis).

So what is your take on this?

Edit: I mistakenly attributed the Quick Primer for Old School Gaming to Michael Curtis rather than Matthew Finch. Thanks to Brendan for the catch!

Three Things I Love About Rolemaster

The first one is obvious: The critical hit tables.

The critical hit system does not mesh well with the hit point system and the tables are far too erratic for my taste, but the descriptions provide such delightful detail that I perpetually come back to them, try to cook up a way to integrate them into whatever I'm playing at the moment, and give up in disgust.

The second thing I love about Rolemaster are the Angus McBride covers (for the second edition, later reused for the Rolemaster Standard System).

The ruined city on display on the cover of the three main books is my personal Skull Mountain, i.e. it fires my imagination like no other illustration of a fantastic location. If I ever design a megadungeon of my own this is it.

Finally, the rules - and I mean all the rules, e.g. the many Rolemaster Companions - form a huge, baroque encyclopaedia of fantasy roleplaying (of a particular kind, I admit).

It's impossible to use all the options, not only because many are mutually exclusive but mostly because an already complex game would collapse under their combined weight. Also, many options aren't even particularly well thought out or useful at the table -- I suspect many were never tested.

Just how useful is a table that tells you how much your character's Weather Watching skill improves for every 1000 years of age? This sort of thing is a prime example of silver age obsessions. It's not useful at the table but reading this stuff or - God forbid! - cooking up similarly byzantine subsystems can be immensely inspiring. These days, I'd rather get down to actually playing but I'll always have a soft spot for the treasure trove of ideas that is Rolemaster Second Edition.

 

My longest running and smallest campaign (five years and two players, respectively) used Rolemaster Second Edition and conjures up nothing but fond memories. Great times!

Rant: Illusionism is Lies, Lies, Lies

Allow me to describe two roleplaying incidents that happened decades ago:

1)
The party ambushed a particularly large and ugly ogre. One of the PCs initiated combat by firing his bow. He hit the ogre. The DM provided a delectable description of how the arrow hit the ogre squarely in the ass and how the surprised ogre involuntarily grunted and let loose a huge fart. It dawned on the players just how tough the ogre was.

Pretty cool, huh? A DM with a knack for funny and informative descriptions!

The problem? The PC had scored a critical hit doing a ton of damage. Rather than describe the actual hit ("You shoot him through the neck and he starts to drown in his own blood." etc.) the DM (a) stuck to his pre-canned description and (b) upped the ogre's hp to match (he should have been nearly dead).

2)
The party chased an evil wizard to the top of his tower. Smirking triumphantly, the wizard stepped off the tower, promised bloody vengeance, and activated his ring of flight. He had to make a trivial Magic test to activate the ring ... and fumbled! He plunged to his death.

Pretty cool, huh? A DM who doesn't protect pet NPCs and lets the dice fall where they may!

The problem? The whole thing was scripted. Everything was 100% fake: the wizard's natural 1 ('rolled' behind the screen, of course), the surprise on the DM's face and his lamentations over the death of the NPC.

(I should know. I was the DM.)

I've had it up to here with illusionism, both as a player and as a DM.

It's a common style of DMing and, to varying degrees, consciously embraced by many DMs and players. I suppose that makes it a valid style of play (at least if everyone at the table knows that the DM is fudging rolls, changing numbers on the fly etc.) and I admit that I used to game that way for years.

Today, I can't stand this anymore.

I want anticlimaxes.
I want failures.
I want death.

I'm out for blood.

Review: Doom of the Savage Kings

I plan on running Doom of the Savage Kings for Dungeon Crawl Classics RPG next week. I've already run the low-level introductory adventure of the main book to great success. Here are my partially ambivalent impressions from preparing to run the module:

Doom of the Savage Kings is a 16-page module provided with the DCC main rules as a pre-order bonus. The suggested retail price for an isolated purchase is $9.99.

The module was written by Harley Stroh and sports a nice pulp cover and gorgeous cartography by Doug Kovacs. You can check out some of his stuff, including this module's map of the Tomb of the Ulfheonar here.

The backstory is reminiscent of Beowulf as a terrible hound preys on the population of the village of Hirot night after night. It cannot be slain (at least not permanently) by normal means which makes it a fantastical monster in the truest sense. Well done!

The PCs are expected to engage the problem out of the goodness of their hearts or, perhaps, a general thirst for adventure. I found this surprising as it is in direct contradiction to DCC's tagline "You’re no hero.You’re an adventurer: a reaver, a cutpurse, a heathen-slayer, a tight-lipped warlock guarding long-dead secrets."

The village and its inhabitants are well realized, providing plenty of hooks and potential for conflict and roleplay. Doug Kovacs' beautiful map seems inspired by King Theoden's seat in Peter Jackson's adaptation of The Lord of the Rings and I mean that as a compliment.

The module discusses a number of ways to slay the immortal hound and advises the DM to be open to alternative methods devised by the PCs. I like this approach very much: A few examples to get across the nature of the hound and a statement in favour of creativity.

One possible solution is retrieving an artifact from an old burial mound and as one might expect, there's a classic dungeon to be found here. Doug Kovacs' map is drop-dead gorgeous and - just like the one for the introductory adventure - immediately made me want to run this.

(Should the players pursue another way to slay the hound, you can just use this dungeon at a later point.)

The dungeon is very well-designed, with a nice mix of traps, monsters, recent dungeon history (i.e. dead tomb robbers) and plenty of flavor (to differentiate the different catacombs). It's a tad small for my tastes but that seems to be DCC's style. Treasure is plentiful and the various magic items seem well-designed.

The dungeon is no cakewalk - which is fine by me - but some of the difficulty numbers (DCs) for saves and skill checks seem awfully high to me. The walls of a pit, for instance, require a DC 23 climb check which is practically impossible (unless a character burns Luck or is a thief). I wonder if the module was originally written for 3e.

Addendum: The author has kindly cleared up this point over at Goodman Games' forums.

I wouldn't argue that the skill DCs are fair. In fact, mine are often deliberately unfair. If a non-thief PC reaches the point where he has to make a skill check, he's likely already down the wrong road, having missed the chance to solve the challenge via roleplaying. 

The high DCs are not a fluke and Harley Stroh sticks to his guns. I like that.

There is one serious misstep, though: There is a scripted scene which I consider a prime example of railroading at its very worst. Not only does the the scripted scene shaft the party, moreover the DM is explicitly advised to override any precautions the PCs might have taken.

Highlight the following quote from the module, if you want (SPOILER):

"If the PCs left hirelings with their mounts [...], XXX has already slaughtered the rearguard before the PCs emerge. (At the judge's discretion, beloved henchmen are merely bound and unconscious in a nearby clearing, though the PCs won't discover this until after the encounter.)"

Note how a big dose of arbitrary DM whim is added for good measure, too.

My advice is to cut this scene altogether. If you feel you must have it, at least drop plenty of clues because it's potentially very deadly. Most importantly, though, PC choices and precautions should matter. Other than that, the writing and the DM advice are good, so this is no deal-breaker.

All in all, I can recommend Doom of the Savage Kings. It's not quite as good as the excellent introductory adventure but the heart of the adventure, the dungeon, is very well-done, ready-to-run and beautifully illustrated for the DM. That makes it a winner and I'll happily reward 3 out of 4 stars.

Addendum: I ran Doom of the Savage Kings yesterday and we had a blast. Five players ran four 0-level characters each. Time was short, so I started them off right in front of the dungeon.* They lost 18 out of 20 characters and slew the hound. Great times!

*I'll use the village as a base for a planned mini-campaign dealing with the highly acclaimed Barrowmaze.

Chain Letters & Self-Revelations

Josh Graboff over at The Signe of the Frothing Mug has bestowed a Kreativ Blogger award on me (and six others)! My poor ten-year old self got a chain letter some thirty years ago - via snail mail, of course -, broke the chain, and felt lingering guilt for weeks. Now's my chance to put things right! =)

The format apparently means that one answers seven questions, reveals ten facts about oneself, and passes the award on to seven more blogs. I'll take the numbers (of questions, facts and blogs) as rough guidelines.

A. The Questions

1. What's your favorite song?
Wish, by Nine Inch Nails. I'm usually into softer stuff but during a month-long stay in the U.S. I got fed up with the CDs I had brought and borrowed NIN's Broken album at a friend's house. At first, I didn't like it much but today I've got most albums.

2. What's your favorite dessert?
Watching Oldboy by Park Chan Wook after a nice dinner.
(That makes it a dessert, right? I dare not change the questions but subverting's okay, isn't it?)

3. What do you do when you're upset?
I sometimes let off steam with a bullet hell shooter such as Dodonpachi Dai Fukkatsu.

4. Which is your favorite pet?
Owlbears. The cubs are sooo cute! If only I could get my hands on some eggs!

5. Which do you prefer? Black or White?
White, like a canvass I can paint with the blood of PCs.
(I just couldn't resist a reference to the name of my blog.)
 
6. What is your biggest fear?
Showing mercy.
(I am still answering from the perspective of a DM. Just so you know...)
 
7. What is your attitude?
Chaaaaarge! 
(I like to play dumb fighters, as a player and a DM.)

B. The Facts

1. I'm a teacher at a technical college / vocational school.

2. One of my best roleplaying moments happened when I ran a game of The Pool for a couple of students during a class trip. A shy student had let me do the narrating all night when he finally mustered up his courage and took narrative control. His whole face shone and the moment was pure magic.

3. I wrote a fantasy heartbreaker, not to mention numerous smaller homebrews. I am fortunate to have a circle of friends who are game for whatever experiments I cook up.

4. At university, I studied Middle High German and medieval German literature, among other things. I specialised in the medieval epics concerned with the crusades, such as the hack'n'slash Rolandslied.

The poem focuses on action rather than introspection. [...]
The warriors are stereotypes defined by a few salient traits; for example, Roland is loyal and trusting while Ganelon, though brave, is traitorous and vindictive.
The story moves at a fast pace, occasionally slowing down and recounting the same scene up to three times but focusing on different details or taking a different perspective each time. The effect is similar to a film sequence shot at different angles so that new and more important details come to light with each shot.

(Wikipedia, on the Song of Roland, the French original)

5. I play volleyball (and watch it on the web, though coverage is sparse). Fun fact: German spiker Georg Grozer's highest reach - i.e. the point where he hits the ball - is 3.74 m (12' 3"). Try to imagine that the next time you're standing at a volleyball net. I guess that's how a watchman feels when confronted by a 5th-level fighter.

C. The Blogs

James Maliszewski's Grognardia is arguably the most influential old school blog and consistently excellent. James hardly needs another award but I need to make a list of blogs I can honestly recommend, so there. =)

At the Howling Tower veteran D&D writer Steve Winter provides an inside view of the history of the hobby, for example by taking a closer look at Chainmail. Josh had this on his own list, but it's so good I'm pointing it out, too.

If you want to read about some of the most hardcore sandbox campaigns around you owe it to yourself to visit The Mule Abides which is authored by a whole bunch of guys.

Evan over at Swords of Minaria provides a lot of DCC goodness, so if you're into that check it out.

Der Goblinbau (in German) by Tarin currently features a very nice multi-part in-depth review of Dungeon Crawls Classic RPG. Here's part 1.

Von der Seifenkiste herab (in German) is a blog by Moritz Mehlem a.k.a. GLGNFZ. He is one of the people behind the translation of Labyrinth Lord into German and has an all-around interesting blog with a focus on the German OSR scene.

Becoming a Killer DM: Enough Rope to Hang 'Em

 "H is for Hallways" by Jeff Easley, featured in Michael Curtis' The Dungeon Alphabet

The worthy GM never purposely kills players' PCs. He presents opportunities for the rash and unthinking players to do that all on their own.

Gary Gygax

Running a very deadly game practically requires a lot of player choice, e.g. a sandbox approach.

If you are railroading a party through a series of meticulously planned encounters they had damn well better be balanced.

(Aside: Today, 'balanced' is usually implemented - if not honestly interpreted - as "The PCs will succeed unless the players make fantastically bad choices or rolls". I was brought up differently: When my first AD&D character, a fighter, used a wish to "fight a worthy opponent over a fat purse" (so as to recover his honour with a duel and get some gold), the DM sent a guy actually slightly stronger than my fighter. My fighter died. Ever since, I've interpreted "worthy" as "stronger" and "balanced" as "has a 50% chance of killing you". If I forced my party into a series of really 'balanced encounters' - and without a chance to tip things in their favour through clever play - they'd be dead by the end of the session.)

If you are letting a party run loose in a sandbox, 'balanced encounters' are not much of a concern. As Gygax points out, the idea is to give the players enough rope to hang their characters with.

To wit:

Corridor A opens into a room marked with goblin graffiti and contains a large chest.

Corridor B opens into a room reeking of undeath and features a priceless* gem on a pedestal.

*Okay, not 'priceless'. Let's say 'worth one level each', by the calculations of the thief.

If the players choose corridor B you can run whatever deadly trap or encounter you have prepared. Flood the room with negative energy, teleport a dozen wights into the midst of the party etc. - knock yourself out!

And if the players figure out a way to get their grubby little hands on that gem - and there should be a way, not to mention clues! -, by all means: let them have it and level up. Great risks should yield great rewards.

If you are starting out as a Killer DM, take care to let the players choose which challenges to take on and which to back away from. You'll have far less compunctions about killing off PCs if they chose their own doom.