Posts from an Ill-Fated Zine, Part 2

You can enjoy any campaign - even one set in an Age of Discovery like the Last Continent - without any fancy classes. The “core four” presented in OSE Classic Fantasy - Cleric, Fighter, Thief, Magic-User - cover the basic archetypes and allow for endless variations. In fact, many argue that every character boils down to either Fighter or Magic-User.

However, a referee can use unique character classes to convey certain truths about a setting. A Cleric class insinuates that either monster hunters or crusaders - religious zealots of some sort - are commonplace. If the Cleric instead gets branded as a Missionary, that probably means they rely less on violence and more on social skills. It also strongly suggests that they seek to convert people to their cause.

Most of the classes used in the Last Continent take familiar abilities and remix them to fit better in the flavor and tone of the setting. For instance, the class showcased here - the Minuteman - takes the abilities of OSE Classic Fantasy’s Halfling class and frames them as those of a hardy frontiersman. It really can be as simple as that. My players have been using this class for nine months and have yet to realize that it's a "re-skinned" Halfling.

Minutemen wearing +1 tricorns of scowling

The Minuteman class draws inspiration from stories of early American colonists who styled themselves as a reluctant militia defending their homes and livelihoods from British oppression. American poets later romanticized these legends in works such as Emerson’s “Concord Hymn” and Longfellow’s “Paul Revere’s Ride.”

The Minuteman class for Old-School Essentials

Posts from an Ill-Fated Zine, Part 1

Months ago, I considered releasing a zine that mixed my insights from running a successful Old-School Essentials hex crawl with some of my own adventure sites and a dash of custom classes and monsters. I wound up running out of steam during the layout process, but I figured I could at least release some of the content that I had already created here.

So, over the next few weeks, I will share bits and pieces as blog posts. These posts will reference my campaign setting, the Last Continent - a fantasy realm inspired by the Age of Discovery.

When I first envisioned this setting, I started with the following thesis: "the campaign should revolve around discovery. The world, characters, monsters, magic, abilities … everything must feel fresh and fantastic for the players." I chose the setting - literally, an age of discovery - to reinforce that thesis.

Is that a new world? Nope, just more water.

But, the real history of humanity's Age of Discovery comes with a lot of baggage. How can we play a game in that setting without making light of the atrocious acts and behaviors that characterized that era? The following note from the opening pages of my failed zine tries to address that question.

A NOTE ON COLONIAL HISTORY

Colonialism has been a source of much human suffering throughout history. In particular, the period of European colonialism that began in earnest during the 16th century has repercussions that continue to affect us to this very day.

Unfortunately, tabletop role-playing games also deal with the specter of colonialism. Its influence stems back to the very roots of the game and permeates many settings and adventures. We should not ignore this.

Why even play in a colonial setting, then? Because the prospect of exploring a new world is ripe for adventure. It injects a much needed sense of wonder and discovery back into the game at every turn.

If you decide to use this material, have a conversation with your players. Decide what aspects of colonial history will be off limits. Let them know that they can reach out to you at any time if a topic makes them uncomfortable.

During play, do not glorify the myth of the burden of “civilized man” to tame the wilderness. Steer clear of the idea of the “noble savage.” Portray indigenous peoples as nuanced and complex. Show the real impacts of a cultural and ecological exchange between the old world and the new.

These ethical questions are fertile ground for good stories, but a lazy referee can also perpetuate negative colonial stereotypes. Avoid this. Be thoughtful and vigilant. Game on!

Running Wild

I spent much of last year running Old-School Essentials by the book: meaning, I only added a house rule into the game once the need arose (e.g. rules for magic staves or additional combat declarations). I gave the rules a chance before deciding to change something (Chesterton's fence and all that), or deciding that something was even meaningful or relevant to change at all.

That campaign focused mostly on traditional low-level play: a base of operations (Fourtower Bridge) with nearby dungeons (we visited Winter's Daughter, Hole in the Oak, Incandescent Grottoes, Prison of the Hated Pretender, Star Spire, and The Waking of Willowby Hall). It was great fun.

This year I wanted to focus on adventuring in the wilderness. I talked with my group, got an idea of what might interest them, and then set out to build a setting for their adventures. We began our campaign at the start of the year and it has been a resounding success.

Rocks fall, everyone dies: wilderness adventuring is a dangerous business!

Though I highly customized the setting, I took the same approach with the actual rules for wilderness adventuring that I did for dungeon crawling and combat last year: stick to playing it as close to "by the book" as I can before making changes.

You can find numerous blog posts and videos about hex crawling across the Internet, ranging from elegant and practical to needlessly complex. In fact, almost every hex crawl procedure that I found overcomplicated the process. You don't need to do this to run a wilderness adventure! A referee has everything they need to run an excellent wilderness adventure right there in the Old-School Essentials rules.

As you play, you will add to or clarify those rules. That is expected. But, if you start with the bare necessities, your brain will thank you later for the reduced mental overhead.

AN EXAMPLE OF PLAY

Here is a real example of a full day of wilderness adventuring from a recent session.

1. The party woke up at camp and I described what they saw in every direction. In this case large hills to their north, southwest, and southeast with an obvious stretch of open plain due east. I asked them what they wanted to do for the day.

2. The party decided that they wanted to try to find a nearby river, which they knew was somewhere to their west. Hills rose in that direction, but there were a few passes that they could try to pick their way through.

3. Now I rolled some checks: a check for wandering monsters (the result was high, a 5 or 6. No wandering monsters today). Then a check for losing direction (a 2, uh oh).

4. Since they started in a clear plain, they did not immediately lose their way. But, as they moved into the hills, I described them getting turned around as they tried to make their way across them to the west. They couldn't tell one slope from the next. I described the peril and presented their options: they felt confident that they could backtrack and get back to where they started the day, or they could try to push through in a random direction. They chose to backtrack.

5. Now, having lost half of the travel day in the hills, they were back where they started. I described their surroundings once again and this time they chose to head northeast, keeping to the open plain while skirting the range of hills to the north.

6. Since they were on horseback, they could still move pretty fast. By the book, a riding horse travels 48 miles per day in grasslands. Having wasted half of the day in the hills, I ruled that they could still make 24 miles of progress. I eyeball this on the map, drawing a line as I go. Hexes are six miles across, but sometimes they only clip a hex. So, I use the hexes more as measuring guides than actual units of measure.

7. Whenever they reach a point where their surroundings change, I describe that so they can reevaluate their options. In this case, a clear pass opened up to the northwest between two ranges of hills. They shifted direction, so I continued their line of progress to the northwest.

8. As the travel day winds down, I describe them coming across a smaller stream that flows into the river they're looking for. They decide to make camp there, where they each consume a ration.

9. I roll again for wandering monsters overnight: this time, I roll a 1. I roll again on my regional encounter table: a small pack of blink dogs. I roll a d12 to determine an approximate time of night when this encounter happens and get a 3 or 4, so the encounter takes place a few hours before midnight (3 hours after making camp).

10. I follow encounter procedures. The blink dogs end up playfully trying the lead the lawful party member to a nearby river crossing. He does not follow them the entire way, but the party decides to head in that direction the next day ...

WHAT DOES THIS LOOK LIKE AT THE TABLE?

We play on a virtual tabletop, but it would look very similar if we played in person.

The referee has their own map. This map is likely keyed and labeled. They do not share it with the players.

Here is a portion of my referee map relevant to the example above. They started the day at the X in Hex 0912. They traveled west into the hills and got lost. They backtracked and instead headed northeast, then turned northwest and camped by the stream at the X in Hex 1010.

The referee's wilderness map

As players complete their expeditions into the wilderness, I reveal those areas on their map. Note that I do not reveal as they go, only once they return to town. If the players want, they can make their own map based on my descriptions during an expedition. I highly recommended that my players do this.

Here is their map. You can see a previously explored area in the lower left. A previous expedition had already traveled up the river to this point and returned to town. Notice that their scale is off, but it doesn't matter. I don't try to correct them. In fact, I don't even look at their map at all during play. If they have a question about their surroundings, they describe what they do in the fiction and ask me!

The players' wilderness map

That's it. Rinse and repeat. Make rulings as they come up. Add rules for things that become relevant to your table. Have fun!

Gotta Go Fast

Yesterday, I found myself involved in a fascinating conversation on Discord about running. Not running games, no ... running during an encounter in the Basic D&D tradition.

Adventurers showing survival instincts / cowardice

I will start here where I started yesterday: with the rules presented in Old-School Essentials. They are pretty clear. You can only run away, and only during a pursuit. 

I will call attention to the phrase "characters run at their full movement rate." I glossed over this when I initially read it. Since you find this section in the Encounters - Evasion and Pursuit portion of the rules, I assumed it meant the character's full encounter speed (usually 20'/30'/40' per round). However, compare that to the OSE section on retreating from melee:

See how the rules specifically state full encounter movement rate in this portion. So, first a character must declare a retreat. Then, the character may move 20'/30'/40' away. Finally, if they're still out of melee in the next round, they may begin to run (using their full or exploration movement speed; 3x encounter speed) and the enemy may pursue (starting the Evasion and Pursuit procedure). Well, wait ... can they? According to OSE: no.

So, OSE implies that you can only run (or, flee at 3x encounter movement speed) during Evasion and Pursuit, and that you can only trigger Evasion and Pursuit before combat has begun. That's kind of a strange limitation, but okay.

Then yesterday, on Discord, user @dcullina called to my attention that this isn't exactly how Moldvay Basic reads. Moldvay basically defines running in the same way, though it is more clear that when a character runs, they move at 3x encounter movement speed (a.k.a. your exploration movement speed, or full movement speed, as OSE calls it).

However, the paragraph on retreating differs in an important way:

Importantly, this paragraph does not specify that you can only move at your full encounter movement rate, as OSE does. It states "any movement at more than 1/2 of your normal movement rate." To @dcullina (and to me), that means that you could retreat and move your normal movement rate or run at 3x your normal movement rate.

Okay, maybe we're splitting hairs; reading into it too far. Maybe. But, check out what Moldvay writes on Evasion:

The caveat about "if [...] combat has not yet begun" in this excerpt seems to be a stipulation for evasion being automatic, not for the ability to evade altogether (as in OSE). You can try to avoid an encounter whenever you want, but if you've already engaged the enemy, it can't be an automatic success.

So, let's recap. In Old-School Essentials:

• If you wish the retreat from melee, you must move away at your encounter movement rate.
• Even if you get out of melee, you still cannot move at 3x your encounter movement rate for the rest of this encounter.

And, in Moldvay Basic:

• If you wish to retreat from melee, you can decide to run, moving at 3x your encounter movement rate (and suffering the normal penalties for retreating).
• If you are outside of melee, you can decide to run at any time, moving at 3x your encounter movement speed and not being able to do anything else (map, attack, etc.).

There is more to debate here. And, to be fair to the author of OSE, Gavin Norman, he does mentioned this in his Author's Notes:

Gavin clarified on Discord that the later edition to which he referred is likely Mentzer Basic, specifically this passage:

To me, the most interesting question is why can't characters run away at full speed once combat has been joined in OSE? I don't see that restriction as clear-cut in either Moldvay or Mentzer. And, for me, I find that the game works better when you give players an option to retreat (unless they make decisions that get themselves into a really bad spot).

All of this kind of points to the absurdity of getting hung up on "rules as written." Everyone views rules through a different lens. Which interpretation is right? Whichever one works for your table.

When the Prince of All Toads Asks for Help

A few weeks ago, my party returned to the Incandescent Grottoes, where in Room 32 they discovered the self-pronounced "Prince of All Toads in the Magical Forest" who promises riches in exchange for aid. They decided that this sounded more promising than continuing their run of bad luck in the Grottoes, so they agreed to help the the amphibian.

A less trustworthy amphibian

I determined that this toad was, as far as it was concerned, telling the truth, and I had it lead the party to a mini-dungeon where they could claim their treasure. I had been sitting on Dyson Logos' Goblin Gully for a while, dropping hints of a goblin hideout nearby, so I decided to use it for this little side quest.

Since we started this campaign with the Dolmenwood-based Winter's Daughter, I have styled all of my goblins like the whimsical goblin Griddlegrim in the Fairy tower at the end of that adventure. Using this variety of goblin changes the tone of the Gully quite a bit, as the goblins become less aggressive and more like annoying little tricksters.

So, I started modifying the Goblin Gully adventure to fit whimsical goblins, to add toads and magic mushrooms on the gully floor, and to tweak a few other things here and there. The end result was pretty fun.

This is just a riff on Dyson Logos' original adventure, but if your party ever decides to help the Prince of All Toads from the Incandescent Grottoes, or you just enjoy a more whimsical brand of goblin, take a peek at my modified Gully adventure below!

Toadstool Gully (or, Goblin Gully: Mario Party Edition)