Alignment post by dreams in the lich house blog

How Do I Do It?

The theme I'm most concerned with is the world building aspects of alignment, and how it defines the
cosmic struggle. For a heroic fantasy game like D&D, I like the idea of powerful forces struggling in the
background, whether it has immediate impact on low level play or not. It's not about grading player
behavior; if they're jerks to NPCs, for instance, I'd rather let the setting express natural consequences (or
not) rather than smashing down with an alignment hammer.

Therefore, in my homebrew settings, I use the term "unaligned" to described people. Alignment of
Lawful, Neutral, or Chaotic, is reserved for supernatural entities, or characters who have embraced
supernatural powers. There is a cosmic conflict between Law and Chaos, with Law representing powers
of creation and order, and Chaos the forces of destruction. Angels, devils, and similar Judeo-Christian
elements fall on the side of Law, and demons and Cthulhu-monsters are Chaotic. Planets and habitable
worlds have nature spirits that embody the Neutral alignment. It keeps the Monster Manual intact, and
lets me explain why angels and devils might team up to stop the flood of demons from the Outer Dark. I
tend to put all the traditional pantheons into Law because of their divine nature. Alignment is about
power sources and which side of the cosmic conflict. Odin and Zeus would team up to thwart Cthulhu
and Demogorgon on the cosmic scale, but in the absence of Chaos, have no issue throwing down with
each other.

Humans and similar character races only display an alignment if they embrace supernatural forces, most
commonly by being a spellcaster. Clerics are Lawful, magic using classes are Chaotic, and druids, aligned
with the world spirits, are Neutral. By embracing other-worldly forces, they've permanently changed
their aura (detectable by an Alignment spell). Everyone else is unaligned, and their morality is up to
their personal code and beliefs.
Sorcery world post by Roles Rules Rolls

The Universe
You dwell on a mote of order, floating in a sea of Primal Nothingness and dancing in a web of a million
planes of existence. The Lords of Law hold their palaces in idealized, peaceful outer planes, and seek to
defend the world against the Lords of Chaos. Those dread entities swarm from a myriad of hells, and seek
at all times to relax the laws of nature and logic, making the world less predictable.

The World
Humanity is a cruel infant, crawling on the ruined pavements of the world's former masters. The Lords of
Law and Chaos are known; some ignore them, some worship them, some strike bargains with them in the
delusion they are equals. Those races, empires and kingdoms that follow Law or Chaos differ in style, but
Law is not a guarantee of kindness or justice. Indeed, the extreme of Law is as harmful to human progress
as the extreme of Chaos is to human well-being.

Alignment
The alignments of Law and Chaos exist, as well as unaligned status; unholy and holy status is also
important for certain spell effects. Demonic creatures from the hells of Chaos, as well as intelligent
undead, are always Chaotic and unholy, while the unintelligent undead are merely unholy. The servants of
the Lords of Law are Lawful and holy.

Mortal beings can take on Lawful or Chaotic alignment, but these represent strong oaths and
commitments to one side of the cosmic struggle, with no restrictions on behavior except this: Lawful and
Chaotic beings do not associate with or aid beings known to have the opposite alignment, unless forced to.
Breaking this restriction makes you unaligned. A being can change alignment twice in a lifetime, after
which any further changes are to unaligned status, as he or she is proven forever inconstant and faithless.

Religions
The Lords of Law and Chaos are worshipped, as are numerous other godlings, demons, and unaligned
Powers. Should one of these deities deign to speak to humanity - if indeed the deity exists, for many of
these cults are frauds - it will send an avatar, who can only exist on this world for a short amount of time.
These summonings are responsible for much of the strange sorceries that fall outside the list of spells
commonly available to players.

Being a priest is not a character class but a social occupation, like being a mercenary or merchant. Priests
in a religion, or those pretending to be priests, wear distinctive garb and often study sorceries related to
their deity's interests. They are often bound to a particular temple or subject to a hierarchy.
Necropraxis 20 rules questions

Here are 20 rules clarifications that are likely to be needed anyways at some point.

1. Ability scores generation method?

2. How are death and dying handled?
3. What about raising the dead?
4. How are replacement PCs handled?
5. Initiative: individual, group, or something else?
6. Are there critical hits and fumbles? How do they work?
7. Do I get any benefits for wearing a helmet?
8. Can I hurt my friends if I fire into melee or do something similarly silly?
9. Will we need to run from some encounters, or will we be able to kill everything?
10. Level-draining monsters: yes or no?
11. Are there going to be cases where a failed save results in PC death?
12. How strictly are encumbrance & resources tracked?
13. What’s required when my PC gains a level? Training? Do I get new spells automatically?
Can it happen in the middle of an adventure, or do I have to wait for down time?
14. What do I get experience for?
15. How are traps located? Description, dice rolling, or some combination?
16. Are retainers encouraged and how does morale work?
17. How do I identify magic items?
18. Can I buy magic items? Oh, come on: how about just potions?
19. Can I create magic items? When and how?
20. What about splitting the party?
 JEFF REINTS

twenty quick questions for your campaign setting

You can run D&D with just some PCs and a dungeon. I think that's totally legit. But if you have a
campaign setting, here are some things for you to think about.  Better to muse on these before your
players ask you, rather than finding yourself on the spot.

1. What is the deal with my cleric's religion?

2. Where can we go to buy standard equipment?
3. Where can we go to get platemail custom fitted for this monster I just befriended?
4. Who is the mightiest wizard in the land?
5. Who is the greatest warrior in the land?
6. Who is the richest person in the land?
7. Where can we go to get some magical healing?
8. Where can we go to get cures for the following conditions: poison, disease, curse, level drain,
lycanthropy, polymorph, alignment change, death, undeath?
9. Is there a magic guild my MU belongs to or that I can join in order to get more spells?
10. Where can I find an alchemist, sage or other expert NPC?
11. Where can I hire mercenaries?
12. Is there any place on the map where swords are illegal, magic is outlawed or any other notable
hassles from Johnny Law?
13. Which way to the nearest tavern?
14. What monsters are terrorizing the countryside sufficiently that if I kill them I will become
famous?
15. Are there any wars brewing I could go fight?
16. How about gladiatorial arenas complete with hard-won glory and fabulous cash prizes?
17. Are there any secret societies with sinister agendas I could join and/or fight?
18. What is there to eat around here?
19. Any legendary lost treasures I could be looking for?
20. Where is the nearest dragon or other monster with Type H treasure?
Xhuul cults

Sample Cults of Xhuul

KAKATAL, The Burning Chaos:

Appears as a massive ball of churning flame, with tendrils of flame whipping about. This being embodies
the aspect of destruction, purification and creation. Armorsmiths, Weaponcrafters and any who work
near a forge or furnace give homage to Kakatal, to bless their creations. Devout worshippers are said to
be granted immunity from heat and flame.

PYARAY, Lord of the Ocean Abysses:

Appears as a huge blood-red giant octopus with a pulsing blue gem fixed atop it's head. This being
commands the Chaos Fleet, a flotilla of sunken ships manned by undead sailors. The cult is strong in
settlements near the ocean. Most sailors give lip service to Pyaray, making sacrifices of gold and gems in
exchange for good weather on their maritime journeys. Worshippers are said to be granted the ability to
breathe underwater or summon the undead.

KORMOG, The Waste Stalker:

Appears as giant, grotesque humanoid with large glowing eyes. It's large lumbering frame looks
emaciated, and it's hunger knows no bounds. Kormog is a cannibalistic being that stalks the frozen
wastes, hunting down and carrying off travellers to devour. The cult is small, usually located in the high,
snow-bound mountains of Xhuul. Tribes of degenerate barbarians usually leave sacrifices for Kormog.
Kormog is worshipped by the Yeti and the Gnophkeh. Worshippers are usually granted the ability to
track by scent and gain resistance to extreme cold.

AYAI, The All-Knowing:

Appears as a large glass and metal monolith, glowing with points of light. The cult is small and is
followed by humans who claim to have "heard the call" of their god. Each cultist is grafted with a device
near the base of their skull to better commune with Ayai. Ayai is a god of knowledge and keeper of
secrets. The cultists are usually found in ruins of the ancients, looking for sacred objects that Ayai has
told them to find. Worshippers are granted bonuses to figure out ancient artifacts.

PAMESHLU, The-Many-Formed-One:
Appears as a writhing mass of flesh, sprouting, reforming and absorbing many appendages, eyes,
mouths and other unnamemable organs. This is it's natural form, but it can take the form of any
creature for as long as it wishes. Known to be a cult followed only by mutants with grotesque
deformities, they hope to gain the favor of their patron god to be cured of their defects or gain the
power of shape-changing so as to hide them. This cult is also followed by dopplegangers as well as
human assassins that would desire the secret of shapechanging.
YIG, Father of Serpents:
Appears as a large scaly strong man with a serpent-like head. He may be accompanied by a swarm of
writhing snakes. Yig is also worshipped by the Serpent People and their kin (Yuan-ti). Worshippers
usually gain some immunity from poisonous snakes and ability to talk to snakes.
Gaming Information
There are no Clerics or Druids in the Xhuul setting. This means there is no access to healing spells or
ressurection! The "gods" of these cults do not grant their worshippers spells through a "divine magic
source" as in Castles & Crusades. The "High Priests" of the various cults are not Clerics or Druids either.
They are usually Sorcerers who have learned a few spells and seek greater knowledge from the beings
they worship, which know spells equivalent to a high-level Sorcerer. Some High Priests may just be
normal men, their insanity and fanatiscm being their only true power.

In many cases, the "god" followed by a cult only exists in the minds of it's demented followers. So not all
cults have a powerful being behind it. There are some that do, but are uncaring of their followers and
never manifest before them.
Dungeon Checklist
Sometimes I write dungeons.  Today I wrote a checklist of things to put in the dungeon.  The first
couple items are pretty obvious, but it's still good to enumerate their usage.

1. Something to Steal

2. Something to be Killed

3. Something to Kill You

4. Different Paths

5. Someone to Talk To

6. Something to Experiment With

7. Something the Players Probably Won't Find

About Cosmic Powers
Commonly given titles such as “gods”, “demon lords”, “arch-devils”, “elemental princes”, “lords of nature”,
“animal kings”, “saints” and so on, a vast number of cosmic powers have influence in the world. (When
describing these entities and the influence they have, the word “cosmic” is used to imply a connection to vast
and fathomless dimensions beyond mortal comprehension. Some cosmic energies also do indeed originate in
outer space, but the majority have a terrestrial root.)

The variety of nature of cosmic powers is also vast, ranging from cruel and bloodthirsty to abstract and aloof,
from benevolent and magnanimous to alien and unfathomable. They typically have an extremely specific and
narrow area of interest and dominion, and their range of influence in the mortal world is often very localised,
being centred around a location or series of locations in the physical world.

In many places where such beings are found, mortals gather to worship or appease them. Thus, shrines,
temples and oracles abound, along with the attendant ranks of priests, cultists and devotees. Such worship
takes many forms, as the whims and desires of cosmic powers are many. Some powers are adored for the
miraculous blessings they can bestow upon their followers. Others are worshipped rather out of fear of their
wrath.

At locations on Earth where only a single cosmic power has influence, this entity is typically worshipped
universally by the inhabitants of that region – an example of such a place is the town of Holt, to the south of
Harln, where a single cosmic power known as “Vardilli, the spinning god” has dominion. On the other hand, in
places – such as the great city of S'raka – where there exist a multitude of cosmic powers, mortals commonly
make offerings to a large number of these beings throughout their lifetimes. However in either case, those who
devote themselves loyally to a single cosmic power are often promised a great reward upon death – a special
paradise being set aside for the faithful.

Rituals
Those of a less devoted outlook still find dealings with cosmic powers to be beneficial, on occasion. The
miraculous energies which emanate from these entities are often sought out, and are, as is the way of things,
equally often monopolized by the surrounding priests and cults. Thus, many shrines and temples, especially
those found in larger settlements, offer a variety of miraculous services for a price. These services usually take
the form of some kind of ritual, wherein members of the priesthood perform certain sacred rites in order to
bring forth the power of their cosmic master for the benefit of the paying customer. The price demanded varies
greatly, based on the nature, magnitude and rarity of the effects of the ritual. Commonly the price is a simple
sum of gold or silver given to support the temple and the priesthood, but some cults may have other demands
in addition to or instead of money.

Rituals bring about one-off magical happenings with immediate effect. Rituals of curing, raising the dead and
removing curses are some possibilities which are commonly sought by adventurers.

Blessings
An alternative form of boon can be granted by many cosmic powers – a blessing which has no immediate
effect, but which can be called upon at some later date. Again the means of payment and the process involved
may vary depending on the whims of the cosmic power involved, or those of its priesthood. Examples of some
common blessings which may be of benefit to adventurers are blessings of curing, detection of enemies,
success in battle or protection from harm – all to be activated when needed.

Due to some cosmic law which is not fully understood, each person can receive only a single blessing at any
one time, which lasts until it is called upon. If a second blessing is sought, it will simply have the effect of
nullifying and replacing the previous.
Swords & Sorcery Nation Generator
Step 1. Roll on Nationality Name. Change or modify results to suit your own taste.
Step 2. Roll on National Features.
Step 3. Based on Step 1 and 2, compute background paths.

Step 1: Nationality Name

Name Structure Chart

Roll
d10
1 [Syllable]
2-3 [Syllable] + [Syllable]
4-6 [Syllable] ' or - [Syllable]
7 [Syllable] + [Syllable] + [Syllable]
8 [Place Name] “of” [Descriptor]
9 Color of Your Choice + [Place Name]
10 [Descriptor] [Place Name]

Syllable Table
Roll d100

01-02 Ain
03-05 Ath
05-07 Bai
07-08 Bay
09-10 Be
11-12 Can
13 Dei
14-15 Eo
16-18 Fir
19 For
 20 Gur
21-23 Gor
24 Hir
25-27 Hor
28 Jen
29-30 Jor
31-33 Kar
34-35 Kam
26-37 Koz
38-41 Kyr
42-45 Lan
46-49 Mar
50 Mer
51-53 Mir
54-55 Myr
56 No
57 Nok
58 Nuk
59 Oi
60-61 Po
62-64 Rom
65-66 Rat
67-70 Ror
71 Rex
72 Ru
73-74 Tek
75 To
76 Vlk
77-80 Vor
 81 Xo
82 Xai
83-84 Xe
85-88 Xoth
90-92 Yani
93-94 Yor
95-96 Zhe
97 Zu
98-00 Roll
Twice

Descriptor Chart
Roll
d10
1 Sighs/Sighing
2 Whispers/Whispering
3 Howls/Howling
4 Woe/Woeful
5 Dread/Dreadful
6 Fear/Fearful
7 Desolation/Desolate
8 Madness/Mad
9 Endless/With No End
10 [The First Word that
Comes Into Your Head]

Place Name Chart

Rol
l
d10
1 Desert/Wastes/Barrens
2 Steppes/Plains
3 Cities/Towns
4 Forest/Woods/Jungles
5 Isles/Islands
6 Mountains/Peaks/Valley
7 Hills
8 Moors/Craters/Broken
Lands
9 Swamps/Marshes/Bogs/
Mires
10 Ocean/Seas/Gulf/Bay

Generating a Swords & Sorcery Land: Your People

Part two taking off from earlier today.

Step 2: National Features

“The People of My Nation Tend to Be...” Chart

Roll d20, 1d4 times. If the same result is rolled double any mechanical effects that may
apply, otherwise re-roll. 

Results dictating class background give the option to roll on one of the results of the
player or GM's choice. If results do not dictate class background, roll on standard chart as
normal.

Re-roll contradictory results—if desired.

1 Average in All Cancel all other results, all classes open, no
Ways adjustments
2 Nomads Add d3 to DEX, -1 INT; Class Background d8:
1-4 Hunter, 5-7 Warrior, 8 Poor Noble
3 Barbarians Add d3 to CON, -1 INT; Class Background d8:
1 Farmer, 3-5 Hunter, 6-7 Warrior, 8 Poor
Noble
4 Seafaring Class Background d8: 1-5 Sailor, 6-7
Merchant/Trader, 8 Poor Noble
5 Mercantile Class Background d10: 1-2 Sailor, 3-8
Merchant, 9-10 Standard table
6 Rural/Agricultural Class Background d8: 1-4 Farmer, 5-6
 Hunter, 7 Craftsman, 8 Poor Noble
7 Exclusively Roll d6, 1 Law, 2 Law (Evil), 3-4 Balance, 5-6
Aligned with... Chaos
8 Desperately Poor +1d3 CON; Class Background d8: 1-4 Farmer,
5-6 Beggar, 7-8 Standard Table; -d20 starting
LB
9 Wealthy -1 INT, +1 CHA; Double starting money
10 Warlike +1d4 STR; Class Background d8: 1-6 Warrior,
7-8 Standard table
11 Obese -1 CON, -1 DEX, Heavy frame
12 Beanpoles -1 CON, +1 DEX, Light frame
13 Dwarfish -1d4 SIZ
14 Huge +1d4 SIZ
15 Learned/Cultured +1d4 INT or CHA
16 Decadently -1d4 STR or CON, +1d4 INT, POW, or CHA;
Civilized Class background d6, 1 Warrior, 2-3 Priest,
4-5 Poor Noble, 6 Noble
17 Magically Inclined +1d3 POW and INT
18 Pious +1d4 POW, Class background d6, 1-4 Priest,
5-6 Roll on standard table.
19 Completely -1 CHA
Bald/Hairy Beasts
20 Insane/Drug- Random addiction or insanity. -1d3 ANY,
Addled +1d3 ANY

Optional Dominant Skin Color

Roll d12

1 Albino
2 Pale
3 Peach
4 Ruddy Pink
5 Olive
 6 Bronze
7 Tan
8 Dark Brown
9 Black
10-11 Exotic Hue of Your Choice
12 1d3 Types/Roll Again

GROGNARD's GRIMOIRE: The Price of Magic

This is the first installment of the long-promised new feature of this blog, a twice weekly (every Tuesday
and Thursday) helping of some old school content for use in your own adventures or campaigns.

For the premier, I've decided to be utterly self-serving and offer up an idea I'm toying with for my Pulp
Fantasy D&D project. As things stand now, I'm working under the assumption that the Cleric will be
folded into a broad Magic-User "meta-class," becoming an example of one approach to the wielding of
arcane powers. The traditional Magic-User, which is to say, the pointy hatted guy with a long beard, will
become the Wizard, an example of another approach to magic. The Wizard's spell list will be like that of
the OD&D M-U, while the Cleric (I considered calling him the "Priest," but am not sure I like that) will be
that of his OD&D namesake.

Under this scheme, the Wizard's approach is all about the harnessing of power through the force of
one's own will. Even when used for good, this is a dark, selfish path that slowly warps and twists the
Wizard's body and (often) mind. Consequently, every time a Wizard gains a level, he must roll on the
following table to see what, if any, price he must pay for his continued meddling with Things Man Was
Not Meant to Know.

1D20 Roll (Any result achieved more than once is ignored, unless the given affliction is broad enough
to admit multiple examples):

1. Wizard's hair turns white or falls out completely

2. Wizard acquires a pallid and/or waxy complexion

3. Wizard is wracked with a incurably phlegmatic cough

4. Wizard acquires a strange obsession

5. Wizard experiences periodic hallucinations

6. Wizard develops a limp in one leg

 7. Wizard develops a facial tic

8. Wizard exhibits sores/boils on his skin

9. Wizard periodically breaks into fits of uncontrollable laughter

10. Wizard's nose begins to rot away

11. Wizard loses the senses of taste and smell

12. Wizard develops an allergy to a common food, animal, or object

13. Wizard's lips crack and bleed

14. Wizard weeps tears of blood

15. Wizard's eyes either bug out or sink deeper into their sockets

16. Wizard's arm or hand withers, becoming largely useless

17. Wizard's finger and toenails grow at a prodigious rate

18. Wizard's spine twists

19. Wizard's body is periodically wracked with spasms or seizures

20. Wizard develops webbing between his fingers and toes

You will note that none of these afflictions has any game mechanics associated with them. Likewise,
none of them are debilitating. How they play out and what effects they have on a character are left
entirely to the player and his referee. Their entire purpose is to make Wizards, even good ones, appear
unnerving and unnatural. These are, after all, the men and women who attempt to impose their will on
the cosmos and make it do their bidding; it's only right that, should they achieve any degree of power,
they be left scarred by their experiences.

The above list is partially inspired by the effects of Taint listed in the 3e version of Unearthed Arcana,  a
book I consider to be a very fine one, even if my love for 3e itself is less than enthusiastic.
Pantheon, Part II

Here's an incomplete list of the gods I'm thinking of using in my setting, along with their real world
inspirations (if any):

 Anesidora: Goddess of grain, fertility, marriage, and law. Based on Demeter.

 Asana: Goddess of strategy, heroism, and science. Based on Athena.

 Caint: God of medicine, poetry, and music. Based on Dian Cecht.

 Donn: God of the dead. Slightly reworked Celtic god.

 Mavors: God of warfare, blood lust, and slaughter. Based on Ares.

 Ptah: God of travelers, craftsmen, and invention. Slightly reworked Egyptian god.

 Sutek: God of darkness, serpents, and storms. Based on Set.

 Turms "Thrice-Great": God of writing, magic, and diplomacy. Based on a combination of Thoth

and Hermes.

 Tyche "Lady Luck": Goddess of fortune, prosperity, and destiny. Slightly reworked Greek
goddess.

Obviously, there are still a lot of gaps in the pantheon and even the gods I have chosen will probably be
tweaked in various ways. My general rule is that I want the gods to have diverse tutelary interests,
because this makes the gods much more interesting. Likewise, I want some of these interests to overlap,
in order to provide excuses for rivalries between gods and their mortal followers. I'm also ditching the
notion of racial deities. Instead, some races may only worship a subset of the overall pantheon, but
that's as far as I'll go. I simply don't like the idea of "elf gods" or "orc gods" or whatever.

More later.
On Swords-and-Sorcery

In running my Dwimmermount campaign, I've tried very hard to impart a swords-and-sorcery feel to the
whole thing. One of the subtler ways I've done that relates to the presentation of morality and
alignment. As I've explained previously, the campaign setting postulates a primordial war between Law
and Chaos, with "Law" being equated with the forces of mortal civilization and "Chaos" being equated
with forces of otherworldly destruction. Thus, while Chaos might be called "insane" or at least
"irrational," Law encompasses both good and evil components, as anyone who prefers the orderliness of
civilization over the howling instability of Chaos would throw their lot in with this alignment.

A good case in point is the religion of Typhon. Typhon is one of the main deities of the City-State of
Adamas. He is a god of law, order, judgment, discipline, and trade; he is also quite evil by most
understandings of the term. However, because his faith inspires rulers, judges, soldiers, and merchants
to channel their self-interest in defense of civilization, he is generally seen as one of humanity's main
patrons among the gods. Typhonian clerics are among the foremost exorcists and demon hunters and
undertake missions of extreme danger in the war against Chaos. Nevertheless, Typhon is not a "nice"
deity and his church's teachings are cruel and unforgiving. As the players will discover, there's a
powerful disconnect between Typhon's ethical philosophy -- which might be simplistically described as
"Nietzschean" -- and his followers' role in protecting humanity and its allies from the depredations of
Chaos.

In a similar fashion, the City-State of Yethlyreom is ruled by necromancers and whose armies,
constabulary, and workers consist in large part of mindless undead -- but Yethlyreom is every bit as
much on the side of Law as is Typhon. The ruling necromancers have effectively made a deal with the
Devil, employing Chaos-tainted magic in order to "fight fire with fire." This practice began out of
desperation in the past but has evolved into an orderly, almost scientific approach to death, dying, and
the afterlife that has served the city-state well, even if it sometimes results in one or more
necromancers succumbing to seduction by Chaos. But, by and large, Yethlyreom is a peaceful, justly-run
city whose inhabitants know that their rulers do what they do to keep them safe from worse horrors. It's
not pretty much of the time, but who said fighting Chaos would be?
Both Typhon and Yethlyreom serve to highlight the campaign setting's difference from less nuanced
styles of fantasy, where good and evil form the basis for the cosmic conflict. Good and evil aren't absent
from Dwimmermount by any means; people still think and act according to such notions. What's
different is that, because the cosmic conflict is between civilization and those who would tear it down,
good and evil are often arrayed on the same side. Chaos is utterly alien and inhuman and against it both
good and evil sometimes must lock arms and stand side by side. For myself, I think this introduces a level
of moral complexity that leads to good roleplaying and that feels true to swords-and-sorcery literature.

Save or Die

The combination of Vladimir the dwarf's death due to poison and my recent dissatisfaction with S&W's
saving throw mechanic has gotten me to think a bit more about "save or die" effects specifically and
saving throws generally. My default presumption nowadays is that "the dice don't lie," which is my way
of saying that, most of the time, random rolls result in a much more interesting "story" than any I could
plan beforehand. That is, if "story" is what happens after the fact, once the players acquire some
distance on events and retell them later, then a random element can't possibly "destroy" it. Those
random elements are just additional events that the players can describe after the fact, imputing to
them meaning and relevance that they didn't, at the time, possess.

Consequently, I have no problem with killing a character based on a single random dice roll. What's
interesting, though, is that a saving throw vs. some death-dealing effect is rarely the only thing a player
can do to save his character. In my experience, to be in the position of having to make a Hail Mary roll
like that, the player already has to have made one or more bad decisions -- or at least that's how it
ought to be. In the aforementioned case of Vladimir, the players all knew from previous experience that
the dungeon was filled with molds and fungi that released poisonous spores if disturbed. And yet, when
finding an entire room covered in the stuff, a room that included mold-encrusted human skeletons to
boot, Vladimir nevertheless ventured forth, torch in hand, to try and rid the room of its fungal
infestation.

I take the term "saving throw" literally. It's a player's last chance to save his character after having made
a poor decision. Without it, Vladimir would simply have died when he set the torch to the fungi. Instead,
he got a chance not to suffer for the mistake he made. To my way of thinking, that's fair and even
generous -- one might even say "heroic." After all, if I were to enter a room filled with poison gas, I'd
probably die almost instantly. But then I'm not a resilient D&D  character, never mind a dwarf counting
on his race's resistance to poison to save him in the event things turned ugly. Normal guys like me don't
tend to get saving throws when we do stupid and dangerous things, but adventurers do; that's what
makes the adventurers.

I readily grant that the way I handle "save or die" moments may not be the norm and probably never
was. As I interpret the rules, though, a saving throw is intended as a check against player stupidity, a
final "objective" opportunity for a player character to survive even though, by all rights, he shouldn't. It's
not unlike a 1st-level character who decides to take on an ogre (a 4+1 HD creature). Chances are the
character is going to be slaughtered, but the dice might roll in such a way as to turn this foolhardy attack
into a glorious victory against the odds rather than into the ignominious defeat it deserves to be.

I'm lucky in that my Dwimmermount players have all very nicely internalized the old school way of
playing: they're cautious, methodical, even a little underhanded in the way they approach most
problems. Consequently, they've avoided  lots of situations where they might well have died, or at least
where they'd have had to make saving throws to avoid doing so. That's why, so far, there's only been
one PC death. Frankly, I'm rather proud of them. I certainly take pleasure in watching them puzzle things
out and "beat" me at my own game. I don't want  to kill their characters, but I will  if they do something
that, by either the rules or the logic of the game world, ought to kill them.

They all know this and accept it and that probably explains why they make such a concerted effort to
avoid making foolish mistakes -- just as it should be.

Save or Die, Part II

The term saving throw  is common enough, coming to us from miniatures wargames and D&D. It
represents the chance for the figure concerned to avoid (or at least partially avoid) the cruel results of
fate. In AD&D it is the same. By means of luck, skill, magical protections, quirks of fate and the aid of
supernatural powers, the character making his or her saving throw takes none or only part of the
indicated results ...

That's probably the most exhaustive explanation for what a saving throw is in the Gygaxian canon, but,
coming as it does in 1979's Dungeon Masters Guide, it can hardly be called definitive for the entirety
of D&D. (And if anyone knows of a lengthier or more detailed discussion of saving throws in Gygax's
works, I'd be interested in knowing about it).

I bring this up at all, because my post last month on this topic generated a lot of valuable discussion, but
also some disagreement. I treat saving throws, by and large, as a kind of check against a player's
foolhardiness. It's a last chance to mitigate the consequences of his own stupidity. Quite rightly, some,
including the estimable Dan Proctor, creator of Labyrinth Lord,  disagreed with my approach, since it
doesn't explain why a character should get a save vs. a spell cast by an opponent or why a fighter has a
better saving throw against dragon breath than any other class.

That's a perfectly valid criticism and, in light of the text quoted above, illustrates that, like many things
in D&D, there's no single overriding explanation for their existence. Saving throws have, so far as I can
tell, a dual purpose. One purpose serves verisimilitude; saves are a way to represent the fact that not
every attack is 100% effective all the time. The other serves "fairness;" it's a recognition that D&D  is a
game and people often better enjoy games when they feel "there's always a chance" that they might
succeed (or at least avoid the worst effects of failure). Gygax himself was aware of this when he wrote
later on in the same section of the DMG:
Yet because the player character is all-important, he or she must always -- or nearly always -- have a
chance, no matter how small, a chance of somehow escaping what otherwise would be inevitable
destruction. Many will not be able to do so, but the escapes of those who do are what the fabric of the
game are created upon. These adventures become the twice-told tales and legends of the campaign.

I rather like this passage and think it does a good job of showing not only why saving throws are
themselves an invaluable game mechanic, but also why saving throws whose consequences are
"inevitable destruction" lend richness and texture to a campaign -- which is why I do not now, nor have I
ever, shied away from "save or die" effects.

On Sub-classes

So, I do like and would allow sub-classes. I just think they need to be uncommon and bound to the
setting better than they are in baseline OD&D.

9 and 30 kingdoms

The general thrust, stripping gods of alignment, is fine by me on at least two counts. I prefer swords &
sorcery to epic fantasy; morally ambiguous gods
certainly reflect s&s better than a rigid moral pantheon. I also like a different approach to alignment,
stripping it of behavorial and even moral relevance entirely. I like the idea of using just a few alignments,
such as Law and Chaos, as sides in a battle, with the majority of creatures being unaligned. Being aligned
grants a few small benefits, but demands obligations and presents risks when encountering creatures,
artifacts, or magic of the opposite alignment. In keeping with this, I've even been toying with merging
the cleric and thief classes; I should develop this more and post about it.

On the topic of cosmic forces vs. gods of a pantheon, things are a little bit murky. The default
assumption in much of D&D is that the gods are really just very powerful monsters, which sort of fits
with s&s, but not quite because of the way clerics and alignment traditionally works. The default
assumption in general society is that pagan gods were personifications of elements in the universe --
sky, earth, sun, death. This is basically a 19th-century idea promoted by Max Müller, who claimed that
myth was a disease of language. The post-Müller scholarly opinion is more along the lines of the gods as
being endowed with these cosmic forces and even controlling them, rather than personifying them.
After all, Zeus is not the Sky personified: that would be Ouranos. Kronos castrated his father the Sky, and
gained its power, only to be overthrown by his son Zeus. So, according to Greek myth, killing or harming
the Sky doesn't destroy the atmosphere, it just changes the natural order and puts someone else in
charge. In fact, killing cosmic-level entities in general is a standard method of creation (see Odin and
Ymir, or Marduk and Tiamat.)

Which is not to say that playing D&D with literally personified cosmic forces might not be interesting.
However, I think I'm leaning more towards the personified cosmic forces as inscrutable supernatural
entities acting indirectly on human life, with much more localized s&s-style godlings and demons being
the focus of supernatural conflicts. So, for example, I would treat the Lord of the Fiery Green (from my
1-page dungeon in the previous post) more like a monster calling itself a god: powerful, aligned with
Chaos, worshipped by jungle goblins, but quite mortal.

Not Your Father

Religion, some say, is a way to answer the question: "Why are we here?" Those referred to as "ethical
religions" often begin their answer by comparing God or the divine force to a parent. These religions are
so common today that we think of this as the natural way of understanding God.

But it wasn't always so. Greek religion, for example, does not include the idea that Zeus or the other
Olympians are the parents of humanity, except in unique, literal instances like Hercules or Theseus.
There are a couple origin stories for human beings in Greek mythology, but all of them portray humans
as sort of the rebel brothers or cousins of the gods. Some versions have humans born of Gaea,
practically making them co-equals with the Olympians; others have the Titans Prometheus and his
brother Epimetheus make human beings and ultimately side with them in opposition to Olympus. The
Greek gods are powerful and cause many things in the universe, but they are not like God as conceived
in post-Greek religion; Greek religion is about finding some compromise, some state of truce, between
mankind and the Olympians.

In swords & sorcery stories, almost any god that makes an appearance follows the Greek model, only
moreso. These "gods" are usually monsters, sometimes not even intelligent monsters, sometimes not
even pleasant or useful. I've probably said it before, but I think this Greek/swords & sorcery model
works best for adventures, including RPG adventures. It creates more of a sense of imbalance and
iffiness, giving adventurers more of a reason to take charge of their own destiny.

What about that ethical version of the divine? I think that's what Law as a force represents. Some kind
of force, named as "God" in modern religions, but left mostly unnamed and unrealized in D&D and other
RPGs with alignment. When a player decides to play a Lawful character, they are basically saying "My
character is going to act on the basis of some Universal Good, even if the gods of this world do not fully
embrace this themselves."
Divine Moods and Personalities

Someone brought up Gods, Demigods, and Heroes on the OD&D forums, wanting to talk about who has
actually used it and how. For myself, I like the monsters, hero, and artifact entries. But the gods?

Let’s start with the kind of gods I want in my game:

1. Ambiguous desires, plans, and even existence.

2. Ambiguous source of “divine” displays of power.

3. Enigmatic miracles and manifestations.

4. Both player and GM-created religions.

These guidelines are based on two principles:

Create as much as possible through play rather than before play.

Keep the players front in center, not NPCs (including gods, the ultimate NPCs.)

So what kind of “god mechanics” would work for me?

No monster stats for gods. They may or may not be real. Any monster may be a divine incarnation,
sending, minion, or hoax.

Start with a zone of divine control, what some versions of the game might call a Sphere. If using a god
from mythology, this is the common interpretation of what that god is the “god” of (war, sky, death,
life.)

Add a second unrelated zone of control, possibly a narrower one.

Add a profession or social role, if one isn’t obvious. Less likely professions or roles will be more
evocative.

Add at least one object or behavior associated with the god. This can be turned into a myth about the
god (summarize a story in one or two sentences.)
Examples

 Tut-Tut, the Warrior-Smith of the Coast, cries as he creates turtle-shell armor and shields in a
sea-cave forge on the western shores. (Summary: War, Coastal Areas, Smithing, Turtles, Tears)

 Lyraine, the Huntress of the Celestial Choir, leads her chorus in battle-songs as she rides a parrot
across the night sky. (Summary: Hunting, Stars, Music, Parrot.)

The first time during an adventure where the PCs do anything on grounds sacred to a god, or in the
presence of a priest of that god, or involving one of the keywords that “define” the god, make a reaction
roll for the god. Only do this once per adventure.

 Shift Results Down one step (Bad becomes Very Bad) if PCs harm a priest, defile a temple, or
otherwise unwittingly “offend” the god.

 Shift Results Up one step (Good becomes Very Good) if performing rituals or otherwise serving
the god.

On a Very Bad result (2 on 2d6) or a Very Good result (12 on 2d6), it seems as if the god is “paying
attention”. This might mean the god is real, it might mean someone who worships the god noticed and
is acting on the god’s behalf, or it might be the PC’s unconscious guilt or confidence. If the first result roll
indicates no divine interest, this will not change for the rest of the adventure.

For the rest of the adventure, track the PCs on the Divine Mood table below, starting at (Dis)favor
unless the adjusted roll is 1 or 13, in which case jump to Bad/Good Omen.

Bad / Good Mood Effects

(Dis) Favor Flip near miss or hit

Cursed / Blessed +/-2 on rolls

Doomed / Chosen Next result becomes critical or fumble. Reset.

Enemy / Ally Extra wandering monster roll, seeks vengeance on/alliance with PCs. Reset.

(Bad) Omen Minor spell (half dungeon level) cast against/for PCs. Reset.

(Evil) Sending Wandering monster magically appears to attack/serve PCs. Reset.

Judgment / Miracle Major spell (twice dungeon level) cast against/for PCs. Reset.

(Wrathful) Avatar Monster representing the god magically appears to attack/serve PCs. Reset.

Favors, Blessings, Disfavor, and Curses stay in effect for the rest of the adventure or until the next time
the PCs “interact” with the god in some way (break a taboo, perform a ritual, help or harm a divine
servant, trigger one of the other key words.) Everything else happens once.

In either case, roll 2d6 and consult the Divine Mood Reset Table. If the result is anything below
Cursed/Blessed, delay the new effect until the next interaction with the god.
2d6 Divine Mood Reset Effect

2 Flip Mood (bad to good or vice versa)

3-5 Mood Wanes (shift up one line)

6-8 Reset to (Dis)Favor

9-11 Mood Strengthens (shift down one line)

12 Extreme Shift (down two lines)

13+ Flip Bad Mood to Good, otherwise shift down two lines)

Shams grog and blog

Let’s get one thing straight right from the start, original D&D was never about a hack and slash approach
to gaming. Certain referees may have developed adventures or entire dungeons and campaigns with such
a theme, but this was never the intent of D&D. Even the earliest players of D&D realized that Rule
Number One of each campaign was simply survival. By surviving each game session, adventure or
dungeon crawl, the characters accumulated experience and increased in power.

To quote Trollsmyth from this post, "the players were simply scared to friggin' death of the dice." As I
commented back then (and apologies for quoting myself!), "I've always felt that in OD&D, the idea was to
avoid encounters whenever possible." and that, "Monsters are supposed to be deadly, not just walking
bags of experience. Avoiding their claws and spears is normally a good idea."

At first level, the players actually strived to avoid rolling the dice at all. Rolling the dice meant someone
was potentially going to be creating a new character. Clearly this is almost always the case throughout the
D&D character’s career, but the point is that at first level, a single 10’ pit trap or single blow from a
Goblin’s spear might mean that the player must begin anew with a zero experience character.
In places deep

On the Nature of the Gods

According to the teachings of the Church of Law, there is only one true god: the God of Law.  He -- or
rather it for the manifestation of true law does not possess an anthropomorphic form -- rules the prime
material plane from far outside of it.  It is said he cannot interfere directly in the World, and the exact
reason for this is hotly debated.  Some say that it is not that he is incapable, but rather he refuses to do so
out of mercy.  His presence would cause the World to become nothing more than a solid block of matter.
Others claim this is nonsense.  Clearly the God of Law values free will and as such he refuses to intervene
because doing so would impede on humankind's right to make its own decisions.  Many theologians claim
that this too is inaccurate.  Clearly the Prime Material is a place of Chaos, a realm of sin.  The God of Law
cannot intervene because its wickedness would destroy his purity.

Still, he can intervene indirectly.  Clerics are the most obvious examples of this, with their magical powers
and ability to commune with the higher spirits.  His followers claim that he gives these powers to men and
women in order to protect the people of the World from the things that lurk in its dark forests.  Indeed,
his Clerics' ability to turn the undead has greatly helped civilization's battle against the darkness.  These
are not his only servants, however.  From time to time the God of Law has also sent angels down to the
World to impart knowledge, fight in great cosmic battles, or generally to defend humankind from the
minions of the Pit.

But then what were the entities that humans worshiped before they found the light of Law? According to
the Church, before the creation of the World there was a great war in Heaven.  The God of Law -- being
omnipotent -- was able to cast those who rebelled against him into the Pit.  Thus demons were created.
There were some angels who neither warred with the God of Law nor supported him.  For these, he made
the World as a prison.  These entities, as is common knowledge among the clergy of the Church of Law,
became the Elves and Fairies that now linger in the World.

Some theologians though have used this story to explain the origin of the Old Gods as well.  According to
this theory, the Old Gods are simply the most powerful of the Fairies.  Humans worshiped them in order
to appease their fickle natures and to avoid being pulled into their terrible gullets.  However, not all of the
Old Gods neatly fit into such categories.  Their alignments vary wildly, as do their appearances.  It is
possible that some are demons or angels whose alignment has changed after years of being away from the
God of Law or due to contact with the Material Plane.  Their forms remain the beautiful visages of
heavenly creatures or the twisted and bent shapes of infernal monstrosities, but their form no longer
matches their function.
These issues, oddly enough, are one of the few places where magicians and clerics agree.  According to
several magical models of the universe, such an omnipotent being would have to exist.  Also, despite the
fact that the Old Gods are infinitely more powerful than an average mortal they can be slain by a being of
equal power.  This would mean that none of them are the divine entity necessary to fill the whole in the
magical model.  Most members of pagan cults are too busy with other matters to dispute these ideas.  To
them, it does not matter if the thing in the woods is really a "god" all that matters is that they need to
make sure it doesn't eat them.

Sword +1

The Gods of Vendja.

I have started working on a list of gods available to Cleric characters for my Vendja city-state game. I
wanted to create a list without working too hard to define the various cultures in my setting - I want this
city to be "international" as it were so virtually any "earth-like" culture could be found here. I think it is a
good start, but if players want to name and create their own gods they can certainly do so.

GODS OF VENDJA

ASKLEMIOS (N): God of Magic & Knowledge.

ATHROS (L): God of the Sun, Healing, and Light.
ATHROS (N): God of Mountains.
BES (L): Goddess of Farmers and the harvest.
BETL (C): The Destroyer.
BRANTIS (N): God of Rivers & Lakes.
BREYA (N): Goddess of the Sea and Sailors.
CORGAR (N): Patron God of the Dwarves and Deep places.
CORS (N): Patron God of the Larik Pantheon & the Sea.
CUS (N): God of War, Misfortune and despair.
ETHOR (L): God of the Open Skies, and the four winds.
GWYL (N): Goddess of the Moon & Witches.
HET (C): God of Serpents, assassins, and the Black Arts.
HUKIRUIACH (N): God of the Open Plains & Horses.
MADDES (N): Hobbit Hero, Lord of the Hunt.
MANNMCCOOL (L): Patron God of the Elves. Lord of the Fey.
MATHOSUS (N): God of Trade and Prosperity.
MATI (L): Goddess of the Hobbits.
MISHMETHRA (C): Spider Goddess of Vendja. Matron of Spiders.
MUNS (C): God of Plagues and disease.
NEKURA (N): Goddess of the Dead, the Underworld.
PAJUNO (N): Hero, lord of Archers.
PAND (N): God of Nature, Druids, and Weather.
PLIK (N): God of Luck, Thievery, and the Night.
PLUDAS (L): God of Journeys and the open road.
SURI (N): Goddess of Dances and Prostitution.
THORANTOS (L): God of Gates & Doors. Protector of Hearth & Home.
Of Bronze, Burning Palaces, and “Certain Kinds of People” - More Musings on Archaeology
for RPGs

PREAMBLE

Ok, there’s a lot packed into what follows, so here’s a snapshot/abstract to help determine whether it’ll
interest you. First, I briefly describe the peculiarly connected-but-limited world of the Late Bronze Age
(LBA) Near East, then discuss that world’s collapse into anarchy at the dawn of the Iron Age. After that I
roll up my sleeves and identify some game-able principles for campaign concepts inspired by that setting -
a setting in which:

+ movement and communication were essential, but…

+ the mobile population was very limited, and…

+ those who traveled freely had tremendous power to reshape the status quo.

Those principles, I suggest, could support some rich campaign concepts. 

THE LATE BRONZE AGE PALATIAL SYSTEM AND THE ‘CLUB OF GREAT POWERS’

Thirty-five centuries ago, more or less, Late Bronze Age (LBA) societies of the Near East and Eastern
Mediterranean formed a network of tightly-controlled, military-powerful, diplomatically-interconnected,
palace-centered kingdoms. For hundreds of years, from the 16th to the 12th century, the rulers who
oversaw the LBA palatial system basked in the golden age of pre-Iron Age imperial power. These were the
heady days of New Kingdom Egypt and of that realm’s potent Hittite rivals, and of upstart Mycenaean
kings pushing their way too into the international order. 
 Ramesses II storms a Hittite fortress
(public domain, Wikipedia)

Although major conflicts certainly did occur (see above) the LBA is marked more by cooperation between
the great kings. Diplomatic correspondence, peace treaties, royal marriages, and lavish exchanges of rare
goods helped bind the powers together; quite simply, the powers-that-be that ran the palaces helped prop
each other up. 

In part, this was because each of the great powers had something critical to offer to the others. Bronze was
the military metal of choice; its separate components (usually an alloy of copper and tin) were rare and
came from limited, distant sources. Other goods, like lapis lazuli, were equally rare and helped project the
kinds of wealth and prestige that spoke to each regime’s legitimacy. Each regime wanted access to goods
found far from its own kingdom; by trading peaceably with each other, the Great Powers maintained the
essential flow of rare goods from palace to palace. 

Yet movement itself was quite limited. Economies were dominated by the top-down, redistributive
oversight of the palaces. Much long-range shipment of trade goods was essentially diplomatic, passing
from court to court in the hands of kings’ servants. More independent merchants existed (as they had
before the LBA) but their activities now cut against the dominant political structures. Despite the pomp
and the scale of war between kingdoms, the real threats often came not from outside…but from below. 

COLLAPSE! 

Then, in the 12th c. BCE, most of the palace complexes across the E. Mediterranean and Near East were
destroyed. Something like a Dark Age ensued; in Greece, the political collapse was so complete that the
Mycenaean word for ‘king’ fell out of use; the later Greek word for king comes from a Mycenaean word
that means something like “overseer of a town” - the closest thing left to central authority among the
ruins. But why and how did such a drastic collapse happen? 

Well, um, scholars are still trying to figure that out…even in the last two years, leading synthetic studies
tend to list a bunch of different causes, note that these causes probably all contributed something, and
then admit that we can’t really figure out exactly what happened (this is through no fault of that group of
archaeologists; the relevant evidence is extraordinarily complex and even contradictory). Earthquakes,
climate change, rebellions, invasions, ‘systems collapse,’ etc., etc., etc. Lots of factors possibly snowballed
together to produce the Late Bronze Age collapse (but if you want to learn more, I’d recommend Eric
Cline’s accessible book 1177 B.C.: The Year Civilization Collapsed). 
But one piece that increasingly seems important to scholarly explanations is the role of mobile dissenters
pushing back against the ways the palatial system stifled their interests. The mysterious ‘Sea Peoples’ have
traditionally taken a lot of the blame for the Collapse. In reality, we don’t know exactly who those guys
were, and we don’t think they cleanly explain the collapse on their own. However, it does seem
increasingly likely that many palaces fell in part because they alienated armed, mobile bands of people
who had opted ‘out of the system’. From the controlling perspective of the palaces - that is, from the
perspective of the scribes who left us written sources - these guys sound like marauding thugs [here, have
a mental image: “ancient hippies forming outlaw motorcycle gangs” (no doubt some of you GMs are now
thinking of your murderhobo PCs)]. From their own perspective, however, these dissenters may have seen
things quite differently. Merchants, entrepreneurs, freebooters - the line between those identities can blur
easily in troubled times - these people may have seen themselves as responsible champions rejecting the
tyrannical restraints that fossilized the international order to benefit a thin elite crust. As I was taught
quite early in my historical studies, where sources portray an empire or a civilization ‘falling’ somebody
else often saw a new opportunity arising. As archaeologist Cyprian Broodbank argues in a deliciously
memorable and ambivalent statement, we should abandon “the rhetoric of catastrophe, and instead
[think] of burning palaces as problem-solving and enabling moments for certain kinds of people.” 

These guys see burning palaces as problem-solving moments.

(Wargames Foundry miniatures)

Now, if you’re reading a fantasy RPG blog, I’m pretty sure you already know “certain kinds of people” who
might see “burning palaces as problem-solving and enabling moments.” I am, of course, talking about
your PCs. 

HARNESSING LBA TENSIONS AT YOUR GAMING TABLE: A SUGGESTED WORKFLOW

The LBA palatial system (and its collapse) could make a wonderful setting for a fantasy campaign in its
own right. Here, however, I’d like to identify ‘game-able’ aspects of this setting concept that could transfer
neatly into many other kinds of settings. Below is a workflow for thinking up just such a setting or
campaign concept. I don’t think the individual steps here are hugely original, but they do fit together
pretty coherently to model a campaign concept harnessing the tensions that (probably) tore the LBA
palace system apart. 

STEP ONE: MAKE MOVEMENT NECESSARY

Trade for profit is nice, but we need something essential. Identify one or more reasons that
communication, connectivity, trade, and movement matter to this setting. Why does the status quo
absolutely depend on ‘the mail getting through?’ [Notice that I said ‘the status quo’ rather than ‘the fate of
the world.’ Saving the whole world as a mailman is certainly fine if you want, but there’s also rich potential
in a situation where different factions might or might not want to maintain the status quo - more on that
below.] 

Here are just a few possibilities, from the mundane to the weird:

+ Run with the LBA palatial example - exotic trade goods from far away are needed to prop up the local
regime’s reputation, and/or they provide essential ingredients for necessary military technologies (e.g.
bronze)

+ Troop movements between military allies are essential to keeping “the bad guys” at bay

+ Without regular food shipments, public order in the cities will completely break down (e.g., the city of
Rome drew on overseas shipments of provincial grain for centuries, and riots invariably followed any
supply disruptions)

+ An ancient volcano towers over the capital city. No problem, since a monthly diet of Bloodstone
tribute cast into the crater keeps the volcano pacified. Of course, the nearest bloodstone mine is 1,000
leagues away…

+ Every summer and fall the Mothers Literate speak new riddle-barriers to block the Passes of Venom,
and every winter the dark things beyond guess the barriers down. From the cave into which she
vanished 8 generations ago, Lady Thesaurus whispers a new riddle each Midsummer’s Eve…leaving
only just enough time for the Mothers Literate to make the long journey to each of the dark mountain
passes before the snows fall. 

STEP TWO: NOW LIMIT MOBILITY SEVERELY, APART FROM A HIGHLY MOBILE
MINORITY 

Making movement essential to the status quo becomes much more interesting if we assume that most
people don’t or can’t travel, even if they want to - so that essential movement depends on a very small
minority of the population. The LBA palatial system offers a setting in which the socio-political structure
itself inhibited movement. That’s fine, but in fantasy gaming we can come up with many more interesting
reasons to limit travel quite severely. Here, again, are examples.

+ Why are 1 in 100 humans born with weird birthmark-tattoos of eyes peering through leaves? Well,
you see, long ago the Fey Court tired of our unlimited incursions into the Wild…it’s the Fey who ‘gift’ the
Leaf-Mark, and it’s the Fey who kill any human found in the woods without a Leaf-Marked escort….To
be human now is to live an isolated life in the civilized island-pockets that dot the landscape. To be fey-
marked, however humble your origins, is to be an essential lifeline between settlements.

+ First-King thought that drowning the Necromancer would fix things, but now the Necromancer
Maritime commands legions of the drowned. Any ship crossing the archipelago is destroyed and its
crew joins the undead below - unless that ship is crewed by a descendant of Garros the Mariner, whose
memory the waves themselves refuse to sully.

+ Traveling up and down the World-Tree is complicated - except for the Wind-Friends of House Uivan!
Thanks to their ancestral alliance with the Duke of Winds, Uivan’s hardy retainers float up and down in
boats stitched from Yggdrasil’s leaves and blown gently by the winds. If you need to reach another
branch anytime soon, then you need to talk to House Uivan. 

Those may be weird examples, but they illustrate a concept where a very small group has either a
monopoly or a major competitive advantage in long-distance movement. Trade and communication in
this setting really depend on the goodwill of that minority group. If we make the PCs all come from that
minority group, this opens up various possibilities. First, this kind of setting makes the humblest, weakest
Level 1 PC important but not overpowered. If you want to run a high-powered, modern-edition kind of
DnD, that’s fine, but if you prefer a more OSR flavor (as do I) then this concept makes every PC a special
snowflake - simply because the setting depends on people like them - but the PC can also be a weak,
vulnerable learner who remains in real danger in the world. Second, if (oh, my bad, when) a PC dies, a
replacement can be drawn from the same population group, with a ready-made backstory explaining why
this newbie would also want/be able to travel and adventure, why the existing PCs would welcome the
newcomer (if 1% of the population can travel, just how choosy can you be? :-), and why even kings and
great lords would hand this newcomer important missions, starting on Day 1.  

STEP THREE: ARTICULATE HOW THE PCs CAN EITHER SUPPORT OR SUBVERT THE

STATUS QUO

Let players know up-front exactly how the powers-that-be depend on people like them. Establish clearly
and early on what the consequences would be if the status quo were to fail. It’s your call, of course,
whether the status quo is inherently good and must be protected by heroes, or whether the status quo just
benefits some people and is much more questionable. Maybe the status quo is actually unambiguously evil
and the PCs will want to push back at every step. Whatever the situation, make it clear that the PCs’
unusual role gives them leverage for shaping that status quo.   

STEP FOUR: CREATE A FACTION THAT SUPPORTS AND A FACTION

THAT SUBVERTS THE STATUS QUO

The mobile minority are the special snowflakes, right? However weak, however inexperienced, their
ability to move where they want - or to refuse orders and escape to somewhere else - makes them ‘movers
and shakers’ in your setting. Think of the 3 Musketeers; although they aren’t super-powered, and
although they aren’t really the leaders of France, their secret exploits become essential to the
machinations of the high powers in the land. I’ve seen this analogy used to discuss 13th Age’s icons
system, which could work really well with the concept I’m describing here. Flesh out a few Big Names in
your setting who will strongly pressure the PCs to act either for or against the status quo (for example,
think of a Pharaoh and a commander of a Sea Peoples squadron…). For best results, add some ethical
tension between the personal qualities of the Faction Icons and the overall character of their cause…if
your status quo is clearly good and defensible, then figure out a reason why that renegade lord’s offer to
hire the PCs is actually compelling. Now, briefly outline each faction’s plan to change the setting
(something like Dungeon World’s Fronts/Threats system would work well here). Each faction is looking
for allies among the mobile minority. If your PCs do nothing, what things will the factions do anyway, and
what will those actions do to the setting? 

STEP FIVE: CREATE ‘SITUATIONS, NOT PLOTS’, THEN SIT BACK AND SEE WHAT THE
PLAYERS DECIDE

Your campaign setting comes with built-in tensions and limits, and powerful people are working to shift
those limits in one direction or another. There’s no need to plot out every contingency; just create the
problems, put things in motion, make it clear to your players that actions will have consequences, and
then offer the PCs jobs and the freedom to figure out the choices they are comfortable making. Then sit
back, roll dice, and wait to find out whether your PCs, too, are the ‘certain kinds of people’ who ‘see
burning palaces as problem-solving and enabling moments.’ 

You might want to bring along a fire extinguisher. 

OF SWORDS & SOJOURNERS: BARBARIANS WITHIN THE GATES OF EMPIRE

“The Phoenix on the Sword” - the first published story about Conan the Barbarian - opens at a time when
the famous Cimmerian reaver has already trodden “the jeweled thrones of the Earth under his sandaled
feet,” and he has become the king of Aquilonia, a civilized land. But Aquilonia’s courtiers, uneasy under a
barbarian monarch’s rule, plot against his life. The entire saga of Conan stories is framed not just by
Conan’s barbarian identity, but by the tensions between that identity and the ‘values’ of Hyborian
civilizations. 

In fact, one of the most interesting settings in which to place a ‘barbarian’ is not so much ‘out there’ in
barbarian territory, as it is deep inside ‘civilized’ lands, where representatives of different cultures must
negotiate a new understanding of their common ground (or lack of it). For exploring this theme I know of
no richer setting than the late Roman Empire, a society that saw barbarians variously hired and fired,
loved and hated, recruited and slaughtered, or rejected and integrated, in various ways. There is SO much
rich potential for game-able setting ideas to be drawn from the late antique Roman world in general, and
in particular from the complex roles barbarians had in that world. But unpacking those ideas requires that
we challenge a lot of barbarian stereotypes, seeking something even richer than the easy assumptions.  

“HIS NAME’S MR. FURIOUS, AND HIS POWER COMES FROM HIS BOUNDLESS RAGE”

But first, a word about barbarians and stereotypes. Here’s how one of the online d20 SRDs sums up the
barbarian: 
“For some, there is only rage. In the ways of their people, in the fury of their passion, in the howl of
battle, conflict is all these brutal souls know. Savages, hired muscle, masters of vicious martial
techniques, they are not soldiers or professional warriors—they are the battle possessed, creatures of
slaughter and spirits of war. Known as barbarians, these warmongers know little of training,
preparation, or the rules of warfare; for them, only the moment exists, with the foes that stand before
them and the knowledge that the next moment might hold their death…” 

De Neuville - Wikipedia

Almost everything in the rest of this blog post will push against that simple characterization - not because
the historical-accuracy police have arrived to ruin your fantasy fun, but because - for some of you - the
issues faced by real barbarians might actually be even more fun to see in play. But I get it. The barbarian
stereotype in DnD exists for several reasons, and lots of gamers don’t really want to overthink it; they’re
sitting down to play a game about kicking in doors, crushing hobgoblin heads, and looting treasure. And
for those games, if somebody wants their Throgdar to grunt at his foes and wipe his drool on his loincloth
and break everything and unleash power that comes from his boundless rage, then that is totally fine and
I’m not going to tell them to stop. I’ll just be over here in the corner, hanging out with Throgdar’s
barbarian cousins, who are...different.

FUZZY BOUNDARIES AND FUZZY PANTS: WHAT AND WHERE ARE BARBARIANS?

What is a barbarian, anyway? Well, that’s easy: a savage, uncivilized person. Ok then, what’s a civilized
person? Well, you know, somebody cultured, advanced, sophisticated. Right then, sophisticated according
to whom? Well, err, according to me, I suppose…
The term “barbarian” originates with the ancient Greeks, for whom it meant “someone who does not
speak Greek” (note, ironically, that by this definition the Romans to their west started out as barbarians).
The joke was that when non-Greeks spoke, the words that came out allegedly sounded like
“barbarbarbar…” The Romans later took this concept and used it in reference to the outsiders beyond
their own Empire, particularly those from peoples with less material complexity than that seen in classical
civilization. Ah, ‘civilization’ - the opposite of barbarism - but ‘civilization’ itself comes from the words for
living in a city. To the Romans, being a shepherd out in the hills was its own kind of barbarism, in a sense;
to live in marble halls in a city, now that was sophistication. 

The Roman dichotomy of civilization vs. barbarism actually broke down pretty quickly. By the time we get
to the late Roman empire, it is in no way accurate to think of the Roman frontier as a thick line separating
the lands of civilization from the lands of the barbarians. Rather, one can (oversimplify a little bit and)
imagine the world of the Romans as a series of at least four banded zones:

+ the inner Mediterranean core, often dominated by civilians and by civilian Greco-Roman values. To
make matters more complicated, each province or region had its own flavor of Greco-Roman culture
based on the underlying cultural system there that had been integrated into the Empire. 

+ the outer periphery of the Empire, often dominated by Roman military society, which was itself
increasingly influenced by ‘barbarian’ cultures from outside the empire; even civilian groups in this
peripheral area, while fully ‘Roman,’ often had values at odds with the ‘softer’ civilian values in the central
core. And here too the underlying culture (say, Gallic) led to hybrid flavors of Roman culture itself. 

+ now we hop across the frontier and enter the nearest barbarian territories beyond the Empire. Certain
forms of Roman culture are all over the place. For that matter, Roman troops are not unheard of, as
Roman patrols and raids are a recurring part of frontier strategy. Roman merchants are traveling around
selling wares. Old barbarian men, veteran retirees who spent a career serving in the Roman army, are
enjoying their twilight years in their Roman-style villa back home in barbarian territory. Of course, this
region is also controlled by barbarian warlords and tribal groups, but many of them are forming and
growing through cooperation or rivalry with Roman forces across the frontier.

+ and finally we reach ‘barbarian’ territories quite far from the Empire, where the Romans are a distant
rumor. Even here - as in the bog deposits in Denmark that I mentioned in a recent post on treasure -
Roman goods may arrive through long-distance trade, but they are reinterpreted and possibly given new
roles in local social affairs. 

So rather than any kind of split between a ‘civilized world’ and a ‘barbarian world,’ we should imagine the
landscape between an empire and its neighbors as a spectrum, where cultures flow across military
frontiers, and the “civilized” troops watching over the frontier may have just as much culturally in
common with the barbarians across the border as they do with the senators back in the old core cities. 
To make matters more complicated, we won’t really comprehend the late Roman world unless we
understand ethnicity as fluid and flexible. Every semester in one of my courses, I ask my students a
question that may sound ridiculous: “How many of you chose your ethnicity?” Dumb question, right? 

Well, in contemporary North America, we tend to conflate race and ethnicity, so that we often envision
ethnicity as tied to biology, tied to your genetic background and to the skin color that it produced. Of
course, genetic differentiation can be enormously important for social grouping, and nothing here is
meant to deny that. But ethnicity is not inherently racial or biological. Let’s ask the
august dictionary.com to clear this up for us. Ethnicity = “an ethnic group; a social group that shares a
common and distinctive culture, religion, language, and the like.” In other societies, those other features -
culture, religious identity, language, etc. - have often been more important as markers of who-you-are or
who-is-in-and-who-is-out. 

So, back to my question about choosing ethnicity. To date, I have only ever had one student say “yes, I
chose my ethnicity!” In his case, his life-story brilliantly illustrated my point. His father is Serbian, his
mother Bosnian; as he noted, “If I go to a cafe in Sarajevo, I can talk to the staff and get service, but if I tell
them my family name, they won’t serve me.” Waking into that cafe, that person has an identity that can’t
be pigeonholed by his physical appearance, that isn’t betrayed by his accent; but his name is a marker of
identity so influential that it alone signals whether he is “in” or “out.” 

If you can imagine that many communities define themselves primarily according to flexible, non-
biological identity markers like language or religion or naming practices or clothing fashions - all things
that are not permanently fixed but can be chosen and changed - then you can “get” the complex ethnic
dynamics that affected Romans and barbarians in the late antique world. 

For a brief time during the 5th century CE, the crime of wearing trousers within the city of Rome was
punishable by exile (you aren’t wearing trousers right now, gentle reader, are you?!). This is because
trousers were a barbarian fashion (never mind that the Roman army had already borrowed this fashion
during service in Germany), and anxieties were rife about people signaling or (gasp) even picking up
barbarian identities. In 6th century Constantinople, youth street gangs started wearing mullet hairstyles -
because they thought it made them look like Huns. In the late antique world, plenty of Romans flirted
with barbarian identities. In fact, if you were to ask a Frank (in early medieval France) what happened to
all the Romans in their territory, they’d likely tell you that their Frankish ancestors slaughtered ALL the
Romans when they arrived and conquered Gaul. In reality, however, the Frankish conquerors were a
minority group who assimilated into a much larger Gallo-Roman majority population - but the reverse
happened, too; over time, conquered Romans simply “became” Franks and then forgot that their own
ancestors were Roman. Ethnicity is fluid: Romans can become barbarians, and barbarians can become
Romans. This means (uh-oh) that even if Throgdar is still wiping his drool on his barbarian loincloth
today, his children might be wiping olive oil off their togas tomorrow. 

FROM REFUGEES TO ROYALTY: THE VISIGOTHS’ LONG SAGA 

Despite that ethnic flexibility, at any given moment the “barbarian” label could remain a powerful marker
of difference, and trigger serious prejudices against outsiders. It’s quite easy to find “us vs. them”
moments in late Roman history. Some of them could inspire RPG campaigns that would make any
Trogdar proud! In the 3rd c. CE, for example, hundreds of years before the Franks would conquer Gaul, a
band of Franks was defeated by Roman troops, enslaved, and transported across the known world to form
a slave-labor crew in Asia Minor (modern Turkey). But these audacious Franks revolted, hijacked a ship
(sorry: commandeered, it’s a nautical term), and then sailed their way all across the Mediterranean, out
the Pillars of Hercules (the Straits of Gibraltar), up the Atlantic coast, and back home. Wouldn’t that make
a fun campaign! Other “us vs. them” moments were more sobering. One of the last great pagan senators in
the late Empire once wrote a distraught letter to a friend, complaining about his newly-purchased
barbarian captives…although this senator had spent good money on this band of enslaved captives so that
he could have them slaughter each other in gladiatorial games he was sponsoring, the ungrateful foreign
captives had the temerity to commit mass suicide at night in their holding pen so as to deny him the
pleasure of exploiting their deaths. And, of course, there are other stories of horrifying atrocities
committed by “barbarians” against Romans. 

What really stands out in late Roman history, however, is how often barbarian and Roman lives were
instead intertwined in complex ways that might involve cooperation and mutual dependence as well as
conflict and destruction. These provide thought-provoking fodder for a very different, very complex kind
of RPG campaign. Let me illustrate these dynamics with a brief, whirlwind narrative of the long travels
and travails of the 4th- and 5th-c. Visigoths. 

I’ll start with a spoiler alert: in 410, the Visigoths under Alaric sacked and plundered the city of Rome.
They must have been, well, barbaric enemies of civilization then, right? It’s not so simple…A Roman
(Arian/Homoian) Christian missionary, sent by a Roman emperor, evangelized the Goths north of the
Empire in the 4th c., and invented a Gothic alphabet so they could become literate in their own language.
Thus they were already literate practitioners of a Roman faith when, late in the 300s, advancing Huns
from central Asia pushed the Goths and others into flight. Many Goths arrived en masse at the Roman
Danube-River frontier, seeking not invasion but asylum and the right to enter peacefully as refugees.
There was nothing too unusual about this; Rome had been welcoming barbarians into its service for
centuries, and had a good track record for peacefully assimilating such immigrants. In this case, however,
the Roman officers sent to administer the immigration settlement decided to profit personally from the
transaction; according to our sources, they began demanding the Goths’ children as slaves in exchange for
food (including ‘dogs as food,’ again in trade for their children). Now, if history teaches us any lessons,
surely one of them is “when a giant armed mob of thousands of desperate barbarian refugees are asking
politely to come in and serve you, don’t alienate them and threaten their children.” Responding to Roman
corruption, the peaceful Gothic entrance devolved into a proper military invasion. The emperor Valens
marched north but, in his haste to win glory before reinforcements from the West could reach him, he
overcommitted and soon perished with most of his army at Adrianople. Although Roman reinforcements
did manage to pacify the situation in the next few years, the Goths were now loose as a mobile, militant
force inside the Balkans. 

One of the Gothic children at the time of the Danube crossing was Alaric - who would grow to become
king of the Visigoths. Alaric came of age as a displaced outlaw-refugee inside the empire, a commander of
barbarian violence - but therefore also a potential asset to be exploited by Romans for their own ends.
Some years, Alaric and his men acted like bandits, sacking Balkan cities and threatening Roman
communities. At other times, Alaric entered into the service of Stilicho, a half-Roman, half-Vandal
barbarian warlord who dominated the West Roman court in the early 400s. For some time, in fact, Alaric
functioned essentially as a private military contractor working for the west Roman court against the other,
east Roman regime. 
In 408, the ‘generalissimo’ Stilicho was outmaneuvered politically by a hardline anti-barbarian faction at
the western court. Stilicho fell from the emperor’s favor and was put to death, but he had held command
of a private army of about 30,000 mercenary soldiers. Unable to catch this private army, the new
hardliners in the west settled for butchering the wives and children of the entire 30,000-man force that
had served Stilicho. 

Yeah, that one is worth pausing over. 

Understandably enraged, Stilicho’s now-disavowed troops defected and joined Alaric’s army. As time
passed, and as Alaric advanced across Italy, runaway slaves also swelled his ranks. Note that this means
that the “Visigothic barbarian army” that sacked Rome in 410 was actually a much more diverse, even
motley bunch, consisting not only of actual Goths (whatever that means; remember that Alaric’s
generation grew up inside the Empire) but also of other soldiers, some barbarian and others Roman,
along with slaves of many backgrounds. Over time, ALL of these people could “become Goths.” 

Alaric had been promised support by Stilicho, and he still needed to feed and maintain his men. So he
sent messages to the court (stacked with hard-liners, remember) and demanded the back-pay that Stilicho
had promised him. That may sound like a total non-starter, except that Alaric was asking to be given a
Roman title and office and provincial command, essentially assimilating him into the Roman command
structure. To clarify, Alaric was asking for a (very profitable) way to make peace with the imperial regime,
so that he could keep his men happy, work for the Romans, and get on with life. The hardliners at the
court said no. Even though they didn’t have enough military strength available to stop Alaric. So Alaric did
exactly what you’d expect him to do under the circumstances…

That’s right, he lowered his asking price, demanded a much less prestigious provincial command, and
tried again to mend fences with the Romans. Variants on this pattern went on for some time; eventually,
after Roman officials clarified that they had sworn a sacred oath that they would never, under any
circumstances, collaborate with Alaric, and after another barbarian military commander unsuccessfully
ambushed Alaric’s army (rightly or wrongly, Alaric thought the Roman court had put him up to it), Alaric
had had enough and he sacked Rome in August 410. The sack sent panic and shock around the Roman
world, but in many ways it was a largely symbolic event for the empire as a whole; the court and capital
were up north at more-defensible Ravenna. For the citizens of Rome, some terrible things happened, to be
sure; but if anything, the Gothic sack of Rome stands out as “a kinder, gentler” plundering, by the
standards of antiquity. The Goths let it be known that they would spare anyone who took refuge in a
Christian church. Certainly, the Goths treated Rome much more gently than the Romans normally treated
cities they sacked. 

Alaric died not long thereafter. In his place, his brother Athaulf led the Goths. During the Sack of Rome,
the Goths had kidnapped a Roman princess, Galla Placidia, sister of the western emperor. Galla and
Athaulf apparently fell in love; they married (in a Roman-style wedding) and had children together; for
many years, Galla’s (apparently fairly happy) life among the Goths remained a sticking point preventing
renewed negotiations with the now-softening imperial regime. Finally, after Athaulf’s death, Galla was
returned (and married off, much less happily, to a Roman general), and the Visigoths finally got their
sweetheart deal ca. 418 - rights to settle in Aquitania, in southern Gaul, where they would govern in the
emperor’s name and stand ready to supply the empire with troops when needed. They actually held to
their side of the bargain - for a while - and sent critically-important troops to help turn back Attila the
Hun’s invasion in the 450s. Of course, in the 460s and 470s, as western order finally fell apart, the Goths
turned Aquitania into the center of a conquest-kingdom in their own name, and they held Spain until the
Muslim invasions centuries later. 

Although this offers only a postage-stamp version of their story, one relying on a lot of oversimplification,
for each step in this narrative there were other barbarian groups experiencing something similar. Some
surged against the empire, and broke against its defenses. Others were quietly assimilated into Roman
society (or the Hunnic empire to the north), and forgotten. Others carved out their own territories, only to
fall prey to other ambitious barbarian regimes. In each case, however, barbarian groups in the late Roman
period were fairly ephemeral things, groups that might or might not share some kind of core identity, but
which certainly could change A LOT over time, and whose membership might wax and wane and become
very flexible indeed. 

GAMING IT WITH A SWORDS-AND-SOJOURNERS CAMPAIGN SANDBOX

So how does any of this craziness help us at the gaming table? Well, there are probably a million cool
things to do with all-barbarian parties - here, I’m going to propose just one possibility. And I’m deep
enough into all this to indulge some delusions of grandeur, so I’m going to get all avant-garde and try to
coin a fancy-pants (new?) subgenre tag: the swords-and-sojourners campaign concept. 

In ‘meta’ terms, I’m thinking of a campaign arc that reads like the Visigoths’ long, precarious,
unpredictable journey from desperate refugees to conquering kings on Roman soil. In more concrete,
mechanical terms, I’m imagining a campaign that is part procedurally-generated sandbox, part hex crawl,
part social/intrigue system (again, partly procedurally-generated), and which incorporates a kind of
domain management from the first session at level 1. You start the whole thing by creating a small
band/tribe/clan/host that is in serious trouble - starving, on the run from one evil empire and falling into
the hands of another - and you make all the PCs members of this mobile group of desperadoes. Domain-
management, then, with a difference; where you end up is less important than finding somewhere to
survive and thrive; your people form the domain that you’re managing and protecting. The goal for the
campaign is simple: do whatever you can and must to protect your people, and ideally to build a better
future for them. Your goals might include survival, material well-being, political independence, and
cultural autonomy. Fail, and your entire people-group will be exploited and probably snuffed out. Win,
and today’s worried refugees might be tomorrow’s kings. 

At low levels, the motivation for ‘adventuring’ might be something like: ok, your band of 200 half-starved
refugees has successfully crossed the border and now is camped out in frontier province X. The local
governor has made it clear that he will look the other way and tolerate your presence - if you agree to do a
few risky jobs around his territory that he’s not wanted to bloody his own garrison against. So off go the
players for a traditional dungeon-crawl plundering run or monster-hunting session, but instead of ‘we
want to get rich’ the stakes are ‘if we don’t pull this off, our people will get chased down by cavalry
squadrons, but if we pull this off, maybe we can settle down here for a few winters.’ And wherever the PCs
and their people go, the DM can roll on random tables to figure out which imperial officials are active
there, what kinds of tolerances, vices, wants, prejudices, and opportunities they will face there, etc. So in
one sense this is like a traditional sandbox hex crawl; however, discovering an area’s social challenges and
possible patrons in the are just as important, or more important, than simply exploring land to see what’s
out there.
With a dedicated group such a campaign could go on endlessly. On the other hand, I think this is one
setting concept where the Night’s Black Agents or Shadow of the Demon Lord campaign structure could
make sense - play will occur over a predetermined number of sessions (say, 10). Structure the campaign in
3 “Acts” - 3 sessions of low-level mollifying local governors, then move on to more serious stuff, and face
really epic challenges by the final Act. And between each Act you could roll up or create new major
setting-changing events; major wars and rebellions around your current refuge, shift in imperial regime
that alters attitudes toward your people for better or for worse, etc. If you haven’t reached some minimum
target of prosperity by the end of your current Act, your people are going to be in much greater risk come
the next Act.

To make this really work, you’d also want to establish multiple paths to victory, or at least multiple end-
states. Non-negotiably, one possible end-state should be the total defeat of your people (you can lose this
campaign, and badly). Others might include getting assimilated into imperial culture and gaining their
titles; another might involve pushing for real autonomy, carving out your own kingdom, but with all the
political/military conflict and baggage that would entail, too. Players have meaningful choices and must
determine what kind of end-state they want, and how much they’ll risk to get it. 

A “swords & sojourners” campaign could harness late Roman-barbarian interactions very well, but there’s
no reason to limit the idea to that sort of setting. Any context with a mobile, militant, underdog group
would do fine. (There is lots of potential here for those palace-burning Late Bronze Age groups I talked
about last time, too, of course!). 

What do you think? Would a swords-and-sojourners sandbox campaign be fun?

Brazen Princes: Looking for Feedback on a Bronze Age Setting Idea

So, in recent weeks some of you here or on MeWe have responded to blog posts by
encouraging me to write up a setting guide for a Late Bronze Age-inspired campaign. 

Gulp. I, uh, kinda took the bait. 

Today's post, then, is not a general discussion about ancient history and roleplaying, but rather a sneak
peek of my Bronze Age setting project (working title = Brazen Princes). To be clear, I'm really fishing for
early feedback here; I'm hoping to hear some honest impressions of what I lay out below. Does this sound
like the kind of setting you'd want to play or run? Would you be happy to throw some market-level $$$ at
a setting guide that made adventures in this world easy to run? I'm quite willing to accept negative or
critical or even just apathetic feedback, as I'd far rather hear that now than later :-). 

I have a lot more to say about my vision for the structure of a play-focused, highly-usable setting guide
itself, but for now, let me know what you think of this world. The world of Brazen Princes is a land of
ancient kingdoms slowly losing their grip, of old, necessary trade-routes severed by angry elemental
spirits, and of peasant hordes enslaved by an undead amphibian hive-mind; a world in which amber
or lapis lazuli inlays in a blade's hilt offer sympathetic resonance with sun and sky, making the weapon
proof against dark elemental monsters. A world where a merchant-ship may carry luxury goods, vital
bronze, or strategic astronomical intelligence from wise women who forecast the fluctuating strength of
humanity's enemies. It is a realm of arrogant sorcerer-kings nursing old grievances, and of long-
oppressed minorities who suddenly find themselves the most essential demographic in the world. Their
choices will bring order to the world ahead, or leave it a mess of burning palaces. 

The Powers

Possibly obvious, but the cosmological worldview here comes from asking "what would it look like for
animism to be true, but also a coherent part of a Hebraic monotheistic worldview?" The approach is
also slightly flavored, probably too slightly to be noticed, by aspects of medieval Byzantine theology
(sorry, I know, I am a serious nerd). The intent is to offer a (to me) refreshing alternative to the usual
sword-and-sorcery cosmologies, while still allowing for pretty much everything present in most S&S -
and also being subtle enough to just get out of the way if you want to plug in something more to your
taste. 
Creation

In the beginning, Creator made the heavens and the earth. To make Creator’s presence manifest to the
cosmos, Creator made human beings as Image-bearing viceroys, called to rule with power, balance, and
humility. Alas, we had other ideas. . . 

Our ancestral Fall into sin is now only a dim legend, but its tragic effects still shape the world. Yet the
oldest prophecies promise that Creator has abandoned neither the world nor us. Our tale, however, is not
of the coming age of redemption, but of an older time – an age of silence and waiting, when violence and
deceit are everywhere, and goodness seems only a lamp-wick flickering against the darkness. 

The Elementals

The Earth itself teems with life-force. Meant to aid us in the world’s governance, creation’s elemental
energies longed for the coming of Image-bearing men and women. We came, but we Fell – and creation
learned from us more than it had sought. From our lips, creation heard new concepts: love, cultivation,
and music; also falsehood, theft, and murder. 

Some elementals shrank back from us in horror and confusion. Others, though groaning for the unsullied
Image, still submitted to broken humanity. Eager to do their part in the world’s ordering, many such
elementals took the form of useful objects, artifacts endowed with elemental power and ready for human
use. Some few elementals, however, drank too deeply of human darkness…and made it their own. Drunk
on our failings, dark elementals wander as murdering fiends, or cruelly dominate those foolish and
desperate enough to revere them as gods.

The Flesh-Lords

The weird, necromantic beings we name Flesh-Lords first appeared some seven centuries ago, around the
time of the Old Empire’s collapse. Not even the wisest sages truly understand them, though astute scribes
do guess at aspects of their origin. They came from a place beyond the world-wall of sky-bearing
mountains. It was not their intent to reach our lands; hateful of all fleshly embodiment, they sought to
cast themselves as pure conscious spirit among the lights beyond the firmament. Instead, they found
themselves among us, still trapped in flesh.

Convinced that their attempts to escape embodiment should have succeeded, these beings assumed that
the fault lay not in their goal but in their methods. They tried again and again, casting their collective
minds into ever-newer forms. At last they concluded that spirit must be adequately prepared to separate
from flesh, and that flesh must be suitably modified to aid that process. Ever since, they have become
crafters of flesh, dabbling in the arts of transmutation and necromancy, experimenting wantonly on
themselves and upon all whom they enslave.
Whether they were ever individuals, or always shared collective hive-minds, is unclear. They are at least
three beings. Thinking as a single mind, an entire army of embalmed humanoid frogs now rules most of
the Land of the Lotus. The Amber Route in the far west is menaced by undead fish-men, and the
Catacomb Lords in the mountains north of Gharit share both leather-winged lizard forms and a single
consciousness. With each new defiling mutation, those who set out to escape the gift of embodiment
become only more what we call them: Flesh-Lords.  Their inhuman tyranny is a stench in the land.

The Blockade

A century ago, the elemental energies of the Inner Sea assembled in council. The Old Empire that had
ordered both human society and elemental cooperation was long gone, but the sea’s surface still crawled
with human ships: vessels full of slaves, of pirates, of merchants’ wares sold using false weights, of darts
and blades that ate lives in the name of one kingdom after another. Men on ships offered worship to the
sea, pushing it away in disgust, while others bent to serve dark elementals or even the necromantic Flesh-
Lords.

At last, the sea could take no more.  The sea-spirit council pronounced Blockade against human shipping,
threatening to sink any human vessel. They suffered only one exception. All across the Inner Sea, around
the edges of human empires, the sea had observed small flotillas of boat-people, desperate refugees
pushed out by war or oppression and left without even a patch of land to call their own. These floating
bands the sea-spirits marked, placing the sign of the wave on their bodies. To the Wave-Marked and their
descendants the sea granted passage-right; any ship with one Wave-Marked human aboard would remain
safe. Any other ship, to this day, is attacked and destroyed within an hour of its setting sail. Thus human
shipping was quieted, but not stilled.

The Blockade and the unexpected prominence of the Wave-Marked have transformed the politics of the
Inner Sea. This is now an age of crisis and of falling thrones, but also an age of new dreams for those once
oppressed.

The Nations

The default assumption is that Player Characters belong to one of the Wave-Marked bands,
but their adventures may take them to many exotic lands.

The Death-Land of the Frog and the Free Nomes

Animated by a single hive-mind, an undead frogman army has gained control of most of the Lotus-Realm,
an ancient land of fertile fields under brooding, bejeweled tower-tombs. To fuel its arcane Flesh-Lord
engines, the Frog sucks even the sun’s warmth away, leaving much of the Death-Land sunk in a perpetual
night lit only by stars. Beyond the Frog’s rule, a few human Nomarchs still refuse to bow the knee. Can the
Free Nomes unite to hold back the undead Flesh-Lords, or will their own squabbles and ambitions prove
their ruin?

The Five Houses of Hadd

Using chariot technology borrowed from the steppes, the House of Hadd once brought stability to much of
the East. Since the Blockade, however, pressure from beastmen, Flesh-Lords, and Wave-Marked raiders
has broken the region’s unity. Now, five successor ‘rump states’ – each claiming to
represent the legitimate House of Hadd – alternate between bitter warfare and mutual defense through
ever-shifting alliances. A few generations ago, the Frog almost crushed the Five Houses; only a fortuitous
raid on the Death-Realm’s tombs by a large Wave-Marked band forced the undead legion to withdraw.
The Houses of Hadd were spared, but another hammer-blow could come at any time.

The Port of Gharit

Through this city’s gates and across its docks flow all the riches of the world’s far corners. Since the
Blockade, Gharit has remained one of the few wealthy ports safe from sacking by Wave-Marked bands –
mainly because Gharit’s ruling elite recognized the new reality very quickly after the Blockade. For several
generations, Gharit has invited prominent Wave-Marked princes and warlords to protect, and profit from,
the city’s access to trade. Sooner or later, most Wave-Marked mariners will pass through Gharit. Some of
these will ask why other men, and not they, profit more from the city’s trade – and whether such a
glittering port really should remain protected…

The Catacomb-Lords / The Endless Steppe

High in the peaks north of Gharit, Flesh-Lords devising new forms plunder both the bones of ancient
princes and the fossilized remains of archaic beasts. For all the terror their bone-and-leather wings
inspire, these lizard-fiends are no closer to their escape into the stars above. Even further north, the
mountains fall into seas of rolling grassland, where barrow-building chieftains master the arts of chariot
warfare and trade prize horses for bronze and other goods from the south.

The Courtly Wilds

A southern and a northern peninsula protrude into the Inner Sea’s center, narrowing the sea to a strait.
Those peninsulas once held the greatest court-cities of the Old Empire. Perversely, when that Empire
collapsed, these lands also fell hardest into chaos and madness. As more and more of the Empire’s
subjects gave themselves over to darkness, men fell into beastlike ways, slaughtering and even devouring
one another. Today, burned, artifact-rich ruins of the old courts are haunted by deadly bands of centaurs
and beastmen – whose forebears, some sages claim, were once human.

The Labyrinthine League

When the Old Empire fell centuries ago, some of its nobles escaped to the islands of the Thalassocracy.
Their sorcerer-wanax kings long dominated the Inner Sea – until the Blockade reduced these princes to
fuming, scheming prisoners in their own island palaces. But some powerful sorcerer-kings have
maintained the ancient network of labyrinth-stations by which the skilled can travel from location to
location. Linked by the maze-network and hungry for vengeance on usurping Wave-Marked, the sorcerers
of the Labyrinthine League work in many lands to disrupt the new order and reclaim their lost power.

Sha-Utar and the Sage Mothers

Not all the Old Empire’s refugees fled to the islands, and not all dabbled in sorcerous arts. North of the
Inner Sea, some escaped into the remote mountains of Sha-Utar, and found welcome there in that land’s
quiet, matrilineal villages. Sha-Utar is a peaceful land where men tend sheep, work metal, hunt, and
protect the borders, while women learn to farm terraces by hoe or teach the deep lore of stargazers. Using
ancient stone observatories, it is the Sage Mothers of Sha-Utar who calculate, season by season, the
forecasted celestial movements that will drive the waxing and waning strength of the Flesh-Lord armies.
Only able to calculate these fluctuations precisely with a few years’ warning, the Sage Mothers routinely
send emissaries to the lowlands, advising any queens or kings of goodwill as to times when the Flesh-
Lords will be most dangerous and aggressive, or most vulnerable to human counter-attack.

The New Empire of Mednash

Somewhat isolated in the Inner Sea’s southwestern corner, Mednash is a land of broad rivers that flow
down from copper- and ivory-rich mountains. Though Mednash teems with peasant hordes cultivating
the river-plains, an oligarchic cabal of four great merchant families rules the country, passing the kingship
from family to family in a jealously guarded rotation. Their claimed title – the ‘New Empire’ – is partly
premature impertinence, but Mednash is expanding, contracting with Wave-Marked allies to project their
wealth and influence abroad. The Mednashu maintain a colony across the sea to the north, from which
they have attempted for several generations to gain control of the Amber Route.

The Amber Route

This region in the far west is dotted with old barrows and treasure-mounds, not all of which may be safe to
plunder. If these lands were only full of probably-cursed treasures, barbarian tribes, and feuding
princelings, no one would pay these lands the slightest notice. But through these lands runs the Amber
Route, so they are important indeed. For centuries, luxury goods shipped from even beyond Gharit have
passed north on the Amber Route for exchange with tin and amber, both essential for the survival of the
civilized thrones back east. Mixed with copper, tin allows smiths to create the bronze weapons needed for
royal wars. And sun-gold amber (like sky-blue lapis from the east) is also militarily significant;
sympathetically bearing the warmth of the sun, amber inlays on a bronze blade allow that weapon to cut
into the forms taken by elemental spirits. Where dark elementals prey upon humanity, a brave hand
grasping an amber-and-lapis skyblade is an essential help. The Amber Route is therefore a region of key
interest to the great rulers, and the barbarian princes along the route often receive "merchants" who are in
fact agents of the various thrones scheming for control of the amber trade. 

Decline, Collapse, and Campaign Settings (even more Settings with Strata)

Ruined, fallen, or 'collapsed' civilizations have clear appeal for those designing fantasy campaign settings,
as many have noted (e.g. Monsters and Manuals' post from earlier this summer). Whether because of a
ruin-favoring aesthetic or simply to explain so many dungeons, many campaign worlds are built over the
rubble of earlier, 'failed' societies. But what happened to those 'collapsed' kingdoms? I've gone there
several times (especially here and here), and my resource BRAZEN BACKGROUNDS (aff) is custom-
tailored to evoke a Bronze Age society teetering on the edge of just such a collapse. In real life, I'm a
scholar specializing in the 'late antique' period, or - more provocatively - what one could call the era of the
'fall of the Roman Empire' (really, the political fragmentation of its western half, along with a hurricane of
other problems). I even teach a university seminar course about historical-archaeological perspectives on
social collapse, and I follow literature in the busy scholarly sub-field of 'collapse studies.' I'm a nerd for a
living, and I particularly like reading about the end of the world as we know it (though stay tuned below -
turns out 'collapse' is not so easy to define).

I've also blogged here about a 'Settings with Strata' project on game-able sandbox settings that don't take
forever to design, but do have deep and coherent backstories (see here and here). In my most recent post
on this topic, I suggested charting one faction's changing fortunes from age to age. I wrote:

Most simply, one could think of the transition between each period as either RISING/GROWING
POWER/STABILITY, STASIS OR STAGNANT POWER/STABILITY, and DECLINE OR COLLAPSE IN
POWER/STABILITY. Heck, you can even make that a die roll if you want to discover the history as you
make it. If this seems useful then what I may do is for each of those three kinds of trajectories - up,
sideways, down - present random-generation tables with commentary discussing real-world types of such
processes, not as straightjackets, but as loose guides to the kinds of effects each type might have, and
other dynamics that might go along with it...

Today, I'm going to tackle 'downward' movement - often defined, whether rightly or wrongly, as decline or
even collapse - since it's so dear to the OSR and RPG world, and because I find it so interesting. But I'm
going to be a little bit ornery first, opening with some caveats. If you stick with me, I'll hand you a tool
below that will hopefully be useful for design - but please be clear that it also oversimplifies how these
things seem to work in real life.

SHOULD WE DECLINE DECLINE? SHOULD WE BREAK DOWN COLLAPSE?

What does it mean for a society, let alone a civilization, to be 'in decline'? 'Decline' is a tricky
and controversial concept. First, what exactly are we measuring, and how do we measure it? Second, to
what extent do our answers depend on subjective philosophical or aesthetic judgments? And what other
factors - maybe quite positive factors - might co-exist with alleged signs of 'decline'?

Today, most historians recognize that claims that a certain society 'was in decline' often rest on
assumptions in hindsight rather than an objective measure of stability. I mean, if the Roman empire fell,
then it obviously declined first, right? Not necessarily. Assuming that decline precedes collapse =
assuming that collapse can't happen suddenly, unexpectedly (different scholars would argue both sides,
but the point is worth raising). Moreover, conversations about 'decline' often veer into territory that is
quite subjective. It was once customary for historians to talk about 'vulgar, barbarized' late Latin, as if the
fact that the Latin of the later Roman period didn't measure up to the grammatical standards of the early
Empire was a clear sign of cultural and literary decay. Now, think about this: if you're a native speaker of
English, do you routinely speak like Shakespeare or the King James Bible? No, you don't? Ok, is that an
obvious sign of the cultural decay of our civilization? Well, no, actually, it's just a sign of the normal
development of a spoken language over time. Historians now recognize that organic changes in the Latin
language should not be used as evidence that Roman culture was 'in decline.' To be clear, none of this
means that aesthetic judgments are impossible or automatically off the table, but those making them need
to be clear on their subjective nature even as they make them.

Nor should we assume that one kind of decline will always parallel other signs of weakness. Traditionally,
Greece's cultural golden age is seen as the period before Alexander (late 300s BCE). After the Hellenistic
period, which had its own glories, Rome conquered the Greek east piecemeal in the final two centuries
BCE. One might expect that Greek culture would now be a goner, since Greek political autonomy at any
high level was functionally stamped out by Roman rule. But nope; Rome, the great military power, was so
taken with Greek culture that Roman aristocrats fell all over themselves to assimilate Greek culture into
their own. One Roman poet went so far as to note that captive Greece was now taking captive her own
fierce captor (Rome)! Thus, a period of total Greek political eclipsing was also a period in which Greek
culture remained prominent and influential. In fact, Greek culture remained well-rooted enough that
when the Roman west fell apart centuries later, it was Greek-speaking 'Byzantines' (as we call them) who
carried on the torch of 'Roman' traditions. My point: don't think that 'decline' lets us make blanket
statements about what societies experience in periods of weakness.

Instead of thinking about 'cultural decline' we are on firmer ground if we focus on something easier to
measure, like a society's overall political, social, or economic complexity. That is the kind of thing one can
actually track a bit more confidently. Compare a traditional Inuit hunter-gatherer band to the array of
groups you'd find at noon in Manhattan. Any judgments about comparative 'cultural value' would be
subjective, but no one should doubt that Manhattan possesses much more complex economic and social
networks. We know today that between about 300 and 650, economic networks and political institutions
lost reach and complexity everywhere across the former Roman world (whatever we also think about the
massive cultural changes that occurred across that period). That gives us firmer ground than changes in
art or language for debating the possibility of decline - or even collapse.

But collapse is generally less extreme and total than portrayed in popular media. Against
popular conceptions of fallen civilzations with no legacy beyond wind-swept empty ruins, contrast the fact
that despite Rome's 'collapse,' late Roman law, late Roman language, and late Roman religion have
remained culturally influential ever since. If many Classic Maya cities fell into ruin around the 9th century
CE, it is also true that the Maya remain today, living in the same region. It turns out that some form of
continuity almost always (ok, maybe ALWAYS) has followed collapse, to an extent that some scholars
want to do away with the whole idea of collapse. That goes too far, in my opinion - we can still track and
try to explain those massive reductions in socio-economic-political complexity - but if you have a
'collapsed' society, that may just mean that a loss in overall population and an abandonment of certain
settlements (or types of settlements and political systems) has severely changed that groups' way of life.

Collapse rarely has one, easy causal explanation. Why did so many Classic Maya cities
(apparently) 'collapse'? Well, there's a strong case that climate change played a key role, but also that
climate change alone wasn't adequate; change also seems to have involved the failure of old political
ideologies, possibly exacerbated by climate change, but also a whole bunch of other factors, including the
specifics of trade route locations, ground-water depth variance, etc., etc., etc. Whatever causes collapse, it
is generally complex.

Collapse has winners as well as losers, whether outsiders or just the downtrodden and less
privileged under the previous system. The fall of your empire is probably a big step up in the rise of
somebody else's, and the collapse of your institutional system probably liberates a bunch of people on
whose backs you built. Yet despite all of the above, collapse is real and sobering. It generally
involves net increases in suffering, and can lead to degraded material quality of life, withered social and
cultural networks, loss in local technological ability, increased political instability, and population loss. So
it's hardly a thing to celebrate - though, again, if you're scraping by in a Roman salt mine, a little
'increased political instability' might be the best news in a long time. (My early post on the Late Bronze
Age collapse highlights the tension between these top-down and bottom-up perspectives).

Having done some due diligence for those caveats, let's turn to...

D8 REASONS YOUR EMPIRE (or whatever) MAY HAVE DECLINED/COLLAPSED

It is perfectly viable to throw together a bunch of dungeons and ruins and NOT tell your players (or even
yourself) why that old kingdom fell apart. That mystery can be part of the fun and is, after all, realistic in
terms of adventurers encountering unknown ruins. But sometimes you want a better understanding of
how things got there - or maybe you're using this to supplement my Settings with Strata quick-design
method for settings!

Here are 1d8 broad problems that may have threatened a society in your campaign world. Again, 1d8; but
if you want a more plausible and interesting crisis, then I suggest you roll twice, embracing how complex
collapse tends to be. Create a toxic mess that combines not one but two or more major threats to your
imagined society - like a plague that decimates your population but also unravels the trade networks on
which your political order depends.

This list is not meant as comprehensive, but it gives you lots to play with.

1. Political change, external (conquest, forced regime change)!

2. Genocide! 

3. Political failure, internal (especially failed political ideology)!

4. Economic woes, internal!

5. Economic woes, external!

6. Plague/disease pandemic!

7. Pressure from gradual environmental change!

8. Environmental catastrophe! 
Now let's walk through these in more detail, thinking both about real examples and also applications for
fantasy worlds. 

1. Political change, external...So, the Mongol hordes, or the Roman legions, or the armies of Sauron,
or whoever, show up and politely inform you that:

This is pretty low-hanging fruit, a classic way to get rid of one faction and replace them with another in
your campaign history. Keep in mind, however, that political-military conquest rarely stamps out any
culture and usually involves significant continuities with what came before. When Alexander the Great
snuffed out the Achaemenid Persians, that actually amounted to a coup at the top, in which Alexander
forcibly replaced Persian leaders with Macedonian ones but held on to many existing Persian systems of
rule. When Rome conquered Gaul, many elite Gauls died, but their descendants soon learned to marry
Gallic and Roman identities, and got busy being fairly loyal Gallo-Romans. When Normans conquered
Anglo-Saxon England, the end result was a language with a lot of French influence that we still
call...English. When Mongols brutally conquered half of Eurasia, they tended either to stand off and
delegate a lot of messy governance to locals (as in Russia) or they themselves got more or less assimilated
to local culture (less in China, more in the Middle East).

2. Genocide! Uh, ok, but what if the newcomers kill everyone? Yeah, genocide is hideously ugly and also
all too real. That being said, it is worth noting that genocide, although tragic, is also rarely if ever
completely effective (thank goodness!). Massive depopulation has happened all too often across history,
but the rule of thumb generally is some form of population continuity albeit with decreased numbers
and/or cultural prominence. In a purely fantasy world, of course, one can imagine hideous sorcerous ways
to snuff out entire peoples, so there might actually be more (terrible) room for empty, windswept ruins in
a S&S world.

Worth noting; where some kind of depopulation and cultural apartheid has happened, the result may be
that later generations think a genocide happened, when really the losers just interbred and culturally
assimilated into a politically dominant group. In the early Middle Ages, some in France thought their
Frankish ancestors had killed off all the Romans, when in fact the Gallo-Romans and Franks (and many
others) mostly had merged culturally and biologically.

3. Political failure, internal...Sometimes a whole social-political system can collapse without outside
help. Some scholarship on the Classic Maya collapse(s) suggests this was important in the 9th-century
Yucatan. The particular nature of Mayan sacred kingship in that period typically emphasized rulers' role
in guaranteeing divine provision of rain and fertility. When the helpful rains stopped coming, the kings'
own propaganda worked against them, and there are archaeoogical signs of settlements that violently
overthrew that kind of king and experimented with other forms of governance. In the Late Bronze Age
Aegean and Mediterranean, as I've discussed before, the particular form of the dominant palatial system
may have fallen apart under its own weight. Find the weak spots and the tension points in your setting's
political systems, and you don't necessarily need a Sauron to spark a systemic collapse (though adding a
Sauron in can't hurt, either...).

4. Economic woes, internal...unlikely to cause collapse on its own, but economies are never actually
isolated from the rest of human experience. In pre-modern societies, overall wealth was closely tied to
agricultural production, so environmental changes (see below) could ripple easily into economic
problems. Being able to pay for food for the troops was a constant concern for the imperial Roman
government. In addition to the food-supply problem, another problem involved the bullion supply of
precious metals. In a society where money is tied to the actual (perceived) value of gold, silver, etc., the
minting authority has limited ability to deal with fluctuations in metal supply, and limited ability to
spread wealth around through devaluing the currency. In Roman history, some periods (most infamously
the 3rd century CE) saw the official 'silver' coinage debased by replacing some of the silver with more and
more lower-value metal, until the coins were almost black, and visibly worth hardly anything like the
coin's nominal value. This bought a little breathing-room for government expenses, but they could only
push people so far before they would refuse to accept such coin for payment. We have an increasingly
good history of the money-supply of major European regimes during the medieval period, too; when the
mines ran dry, states had little choice but to experiment with alternative sources for coin-bullion - or
squeeze extant wealth-holders (the Church, nobles, etc.) to get more of their shiny stuff back into
government hands. Such measures can exacerbate other tensions, helping erode the stability of an overall
system.

5. Economic woes, external...all the same caveats apply here, but in this case the tension is lack of
access to foreign goods that are important for a society or for its dominant system. The palatial system in
the Late Bronze Age is a strong example - foreign luxury goods helped prop up rulers and foreign bronze
components helped arm their troops. Loss of access to foreign goods - whether because a military defeat
severed a trade route (see problem #1), or because a key river shifted its course (see problem #7), or
because a foreign trading partner suffered its own collapse, could cause trouble to ripple internationally,
with unpredictable consequences.

6. Plague/disease pandemic...Bring out your dead! Highly infectious disease has the potential to
wreak massive, massive damage on a society. Or not; note that Y. pestis ravaged what was left of the
Roman world in the 6th century, but a later form of the same disease (as 'the Black Death') killed off
perhaps 1/3 or 1/2 of Europe's population in the 14th c. - but Europe bounced back and dominated the
globe within a few centuries. So pandemics are not necessarily silver-bullet civilization killers. But they
have potential to act with other factors to really tear things apart. Note that plagues will not be very
serious unless they spread; and they will only spread widely if they touch a society that has fairly
sophisticated transport networks linking dense concentrations of vulnerable human beings.

As with genocide, plague presents a uniquely dangerous threat in a fantastic world, where more-than-
purely-epidemiological concerns might affect the spread of a disease/curse. The whole idea of 'a zombie
plague' reflects this - imagine if those affected by a plague not only fall out of your society, but turn into
enemies actively working against it...

7. Pressure from gradual environmental change...I think no book has shaped popular conceptions
of collapse more than Jared Diamond's Collapse: How Societies Choose to Fail or Succeed. I also think
that is unfortunate; Diamond's core idea, that 'ecocide' - self-destruction through environmental abuse -
has been a key factor in historical collapses - turns out to be ... well, probably very wrong. (Diamond is so
opposed by many professional archaeologists, anthropologists, and historians, that you can even buy
a counter-book of papers from a whole academic conference organized just to rebut his theories!). This is
not to say that environmental change is unimportant historically for collapse - quite the contrary, in fact -
but 'ecocide' as framed by Diamond and earlier scholars actually seems to clash with the available
evidence almost wherever we look in detail [the issue is further complicated by present urgent concerns
about environmental change: climate change, species extinction, pollution, etc., etc. etc. But saying that
ecocide doesn't seem to have shaped past history doesn't actually get us off the hook today, because
humanity never before has had the capacity to shape the earth's biosphere on the same scale that we have
today. The future remains an undiscovered country].

Ok, but it looks more and more like some kind of environmental trouble - even if naturally caused, rather
than manmade - has played key roles in many societies' collapses. Palaeoclimate data for the late Roman
period now help us better understand what happened to one of history's greatest empires. As mentioned
earlier, Classic Maya collapse looks very, very complex, but drought seems to have played some kind of
central role. As noted above, in pre-modern societies economics was usually tied closely to food
production, so any serious degradation in agricultural output meant bad news for those feeding the
troops.

Thus, gradual deleterious changes over time can mean really bad news for your campaign setting's current
masters. This might take many forms: climate change affecting heat and rainfall; the slow movement of
rivers across the landscape (this is more likely to affect a single settlement than an entire society's
wellbeing), silting up of important harbors, ice sheets advancing or retreating, etc., etc. In a fantasy
setting, too, where the forces of nature may have very conscious agents or spokes-things, this could get
really interesting.

8. Environmental catastrophe...BOOM! 'Vesuvius erupts, everyone dies' may not be a fair GM

statement, but it certainly makes a dramatic way to change your setting. Here, again, we're likely dealing
with crises that affect a locality more than an entire civilization, though the destruction of some key nodes
might have wider ripple effects. Shift to something like (the popular understanding of) Noah's Flood, and
you're talking a real society-killer. In a fantasy setting, the sky really is the limit for what you can throw at
your world. But note that in real life, we humans are peskily resilient; even supervolcanoes turn out to be
a part of the human experience.

I hope this has helped inspire some ideas about ways to cause trouble or 'downward change' for your
campaign setting backstories. If this helps - or not really - please be vocal and let me know in the
comments, along with thoughts on what could make this stuff more directly useful.

Best wishes, happy gaming, and watch out for plagues that weaken armies so foreign conquerors can
sweep in, or maybe bullion shortages that prevent paid maintenance of key harbors, leading to regime
collapse, or...well, it's your turn now.

GUNDOBAD'S SNEAKY DICEY MAGIC IDENTIFICATION HOUSE RULE:

When the players recover a new magical item, I roll a d6, where the players can't see it. 

+ If the die shows 2-6, I tell them exactly what the item is and does.

+ If the die shows a 1, I tell them they can't figure out what the item is, and they'll have to
hunt someone down who can tell them - or experiment.

+ If the item is cursed or harmful...I roll the d6 anyway, but regardless of its result, I tell
the players they can't figure out what the item is.
Religion not Deities

In the beginning of RPGS, dieties were viewed as really big monsters. The information given was nearly
devoid of any information on how to actually use the deity in the campaign.

The reaction against this resulted in elaborate mythologies of near omnipotent gods. Yet largely devoid of
information how to actually use this in a referee campaign. In the first case the wrong information was
given and the in the second the information was on too high of a level.

It has gotten better over the years but still not enough is done. The 4th edition deity description are fairly
good at giving the player the needed information for being a follower. But they lack information useful to
the referee like typical temple layout, information on the how the priesthood are setup. Granted this is
understandable as they are in the Player's Handbook and space is limited.

When detailing deities for your own campaign. I recommend more work be spent defining the religion not
the diety. Along with what the followers believe, define how the temple are laid out, what are the
important dates, and what type of hierarchy they have. All of this information is pertinent when creating
adventures involving minions of that deity.

Don't get me wrong, some minimal mythology is needed as it is often the foundation for their beliefs and
movitation. A good guide I found is to limit myself at the beginning to about a page worth of information
(using a 10 point font).

Things to consider for your Religion

What should go into the one page description of your religion?

Motivation
Most RPG religions have deities that are powerful beings with cosmic concerns. I deliberately chose the
term powerful beings. As most deities have limits on their reach and knowledge. Sure they can smash a
PC, or kingdom like a bug but in a nutshell they are thought of people who have a lot on their mind. In
many ways they are like a parent to the mortal races.

This conception of deities gives us a good starting point for describing them. Think of your deity as a
person with cosmic concerns. They had a beginning, they have a history. All of this shapes the personality
they have today. You don't need to go into great detail, a sketch is all you need to start with.

Teachings
From the deity's motivation you can derive a set of teaching. Come up with a half dozen or so tenets.

Background
Set the deity within the history and cultures of your campaign. This is another area where you can go
overboard so try to limit yourself to a paragraph. What this helps with is to decide the scope of the
religion. There are a lot of ways you can go but the main choices are cult, local, cultural, or universal.
A cult religion has a handful of followers and are mostly secretive. Cults are traditionally associated with
evil gods. On the flip side nearly all religions start out as a cult at some point.

A local religion is tied to a specific place. Gods of city-states also fall into this category. For example a toad
god that protect a large swamp and all those who live it. Because of the turmoil of the region he also
become a protector god of refugees who traditional hid in the swamp as the invaders pass.

A cultural religion is found throughout a particular culture. Two variant to consider are cultural religions
that are religions of state and it opposite a cultural religion that followed by a conquered or oppressed
populace.

A universal religion is found throughout multiple cultures in multiple region. The key attribute is that they
teach something that has universal appeal. For example Dannu's teachings of living in harmony with the
earth, home and hearth is far more likely to be followed by many cultures than the Toad God's obession
with a swamp.

Universal religions can rise by a variety of means. A varient where a culture become dominent over many
regions and enough time passes where it becomes fused with the local cultures (like Rome). Another
variant is continued contact with longer lived races like the elves. The continuity offered by the elves has a
powerful effect on the surrounding human cultures resulting a shared core set of belief. In someways this
parallels the effect of China on the surrounding regions.

Calender
This is not commonly done but I found that having some type of calender greatly add to the players sense
of place. Now this does not mean I hand the player a calender of dates. But rather periodically a festival or
a special day occurs. Dates to consider are Traditonal founding day, Important dates of the deity life,
seasonal festivals.

Priesthood
Up to this point we have defined little that will have an impact on adventure prep. With the belief defined,
a basic mythology, the background, and calender you should have enough information to setup what type
of priest that follows the deity.

I find it useful not to think of the priesthood as a organization of the cleric class. But rather than a
description of all those who make serving the deity their primary profession. So for the forest god he may
have a order of cleric who job is to maintain sanctuaries, a order of fighter who protect the sanctuaries,
and a order of rangers who patrol the woods between and carry messages between the sanctuaries.

The result should be one or more template you can use to flesh locales four your adventures. Think of the
guidelines for orc tribes, and merchant caravan in 1st edition's Monster Manual.

Lay Followers
The body of the deity's believer is more than the priesthood. So having a paragraph describing what
typical adherents are like will help in prepare adventures. Perhaps they live under some strict code, are
they open to talking with outsiders, do they try to convert, and so on. The end result is another template
you can apply to help you when you need to create a village of followers of Mitra vs a village of followers of
Set.

Religious Structures
Put some thought in how temples and other important religous structures are laid out. There will be
variation based on locale and regions but in general structures for religous purpose follow a pattern. Like
the cross layout of many of the great cathedrals.

Miscellaneous
Finally if you have note any neat ideas you have for your religion that don't fit anywhere else. And if you
need combat stats here is where they would go.

Polytheism

Forgive me. This is a favorite subject, and I have been putting it off wondering how to do a direct, to the
point article about D&D. Turns out, I don’t want to.

Wade through all this or not. I will get to the subject at hand, but I am going to wax for awhile.

Whether or not there is reason to believe in a group of gods, or a single god, the conception of polytheism
was a technological revolution, one which happened certainly before most of the physical evidence we
have from Neolithic society. The association of things, forces and creatures with god-beings allowed
humans to conceptualize their universe, prior to any conception of biology or physiology beyond the fact
that living matter consisted of pieces that could be divided (some of it edible, some not). In a culture
where virtually nothing about the culture changed from the beginning of one’s life to the end, it was
believable that rocks and trees, rivers and sky, things which everyone related to in the same manner, were
somehow entities with which mere humans could not easily communicate. Humans were mortal. Nature
was not. That was evident.

At first we can presuppose that these entities were not ‘gods’ as we view them. The Romans retained the
belief into the Christian era that all things had within them a ‘genius,’ a spark that enabled it to
intrinsically hold the parameters of existence. The genius of water allowed it to flow; the genius of cattle
allowed them to reproduce, and some of that genius was transferred when one ate certain parts of the
cow. Most polytheistic cultures have similar such entities ... a sort of pre-god concept.

Through cultural explanations of the gods to themselves, humans steadily built up characterizations –
usually anthropomorphications – to describe the gods. This is, of course, the first representation of gods
as ‘persons.’

The first sustained representation of human-like characteristics in gods (that we can know of) made the
obvious connection that all things come from the earth – just as humans come from a mother. The
obvious extrapolation was based upon the periods of earth’s seasons: that first everything is new; that
then everything is birthed; and that finally everything dies.

Newness became represented by the Virgin, the woman who is a child and has not yet been impregnated.
Birth is the Mother, who tends the child and brings the child to adulthood. Finally, Death is the Crone, the
old woman who is barren and can no longer bring forth children.

These three goddesses have led to a poorly researched belief that early human culture, prior to historical
references, was matriarchal in construct. For four decades historians, classicists, archaeologists and
anthropologists, many of them substantial giants in their fields, have struggled to prove this theory, as it
helps explain the early human’s fascination with women as something other than a sexual fetish. Sadly,
they have yet to provide any defacto factual evidence of this so-called pre-patriarchal culture. But they
keep trying.

Part of the argument presented relates the demise of the three goddesses following the rise of regimented
civilization, about the 3rd millennium BCE. Following this period the two best documented polytheistic
cultures – Egypt and Mesopotamia – develop dominant patriarchal gods who have been traditionally seen
as ‘leading’ their pantheons. Marduk of Sumeria’s most famous myth tells of his slaughtering Tiamat, the
chromatic dragon from the Monster Manual, and using her body and blood to fashion the earth and the
sea. Male slaughters female, patriarchal exploitation of women replaces matriarchal society. But it bears
as much relation to evidence as the sea’s relationship to blood.

To return to the characterization of the Mother: the name that most commonly arises is that of Ana, who
was the Grandmother Goddess to the Sumerians, who predates Sumerian history by about six millennia.
From our perspective, this seems an obscure god – it is likely that you do not associate the name with a
particular god from your readings of Greek, Roman, Norse or Sumerian religion.

But now I’d like to blow your mind and make a few connections you’ve never made. This is assuming, of
course, that you have at least some structural understanding of history, our world, and our culture.

Goddess Anna of Sumeria would also be named Anah in Egypt, who was the mother of Meri-Ra (the
Hebrew Asherah), the feminine principal of water from which came all life. In Syria she would be called
Anath, the destroyer; in Canaan, the Jews would call her Anat (from the Ras Shamra texts, which reveal
Canaanite foundations of the Bible). The Canaanites would call Ana the ‘Grandmother of God,’ specifically
the grandmother of Yahweh, the god the Jews would worship as the one god. The Egyptians believed that
Ana’s daughter Meri-Ra was the consort of Yahweh.

Remember as you read this that human culture, prior to the ‘discovery’ of the one true god, created
multiple myths to explain the rise of new gods and how they interrelated with one another. Long before
Yahweh became monotheistic, he has a long history of existing as part of a complicated pantheon
associated with Syria and Egypt, predating Abraham’s vision circa 2300 BCE.

For the record, Ana was also Di-Ana, ‘Queen of Heaven.’ Diana’s shrines throughout Europe would later
be identified with the Christian Madonna, and often even the image of Diana herself would be co-opted by
churches. Ana was widespread – the Celts would call her Anu, the cult spreading through central and
northern Europe. In numerous Black Sea cultures she was Nana, and ultimately Nanna, the incarnation of
the Norse goddess Freya within that culture’s belief that Balder’s wife (Freya) was also Balder’s mother.
Similar myths would be associated with varying Celtic cultures – that the mother gave birth to the son,
who later married the mother to enable crops to grow before she murdered him.

Western Celts would yield up the name Morg-Ana, or the Goddess of Death, or ‘Invincible Queen Death.’
Attacking the name of Ana among pagans and devil worshippers, Christians would commonly attack
Black Annis, or ‘Anna of the Angles’, in describing the cults of witches.

However, at the same time, Christianity would also sanctify Ana, as ‘St. Anne,’ who was the mother of
Mary and therefore the Grandmother of Christ (and therefore of God, get it?). Note that St. Anne’s
daughter Mary has the same name as Anah’s daughter Meri of Egypt, who was the consort of Yahweh and
also the mother of the Jewish ‘god’. Does it not seem obvious that the Jews, steeped in Egyptian myth,
having been taught the cult of Yahweh, would of course know of his wife? Why assume that ‘Mary’ mother
of Christ was a real person? Because you are told that she was a real person? You need to take a course in
Religious studies. All myths are always invented after the fact.

The parallels get complex and profound – but it pretty much breaks down to this. The cultural
significance of a mother goddess was developed, and thereafter stolen by multiple western cultures who
spread the word through trade. Where and when these terms were first used is anyone’s guess – our only
evidence comes from when we happen to find an artifact that has happened to survive the 40 to 60
centuries from whence this Goddess Ana came.
In terms of D&D (at last!), the fault lies in the rather bland portrayals of the gods as glorified monsters,
along with the assumption that these varying gods from their varying pantheons are isolated individuals.
Nothing could be further from the truth. Inanna, who is yet another incarnation of Ana from later
Sumerian culture, is the same fertility deity as Ishtar – they are one and the same. Ishtar is merely the
later Babylonian equivalent, who is also Isis (the Egyptian ‘Oldest of the Old’), a later Egyptian
incarnation of Anah combining elements of Meri-Ra. Isis is also said to have given birth to a son (Horus)
who matured to become Osiris, whom she married and then devoured in order to give birth to Horus
again – thus perpetuating the seasonal cycle. It is said that the Nile flood begins as a teardrop from Isis at
the death of Osiris – the death she is responsible for. But then, the ‘devouring’ was not done with the
mouth.

Oh, and while I’m here, it is ridiculous to imagine that the gods represented by stats in the Deities and
Demigods are anything like their namesakes. How many hit points has a god whose teardrop begins the
Nile flood?

Inanna, Diana, Isis, Hel, Hecate, Ishtar, Astarte, Kali – all the same goddess. The same is true for Zeus, Ra
and Odin, and for Pan and Loki, and right on down the line. The principal failure in depicting gods in the
D&D universe has been the effort to depict gods who have no religion whatsoever. As I said, as monsters.

It is an interesting bit of cognitive dissonance that the gods depicted in the Deities, and indeed throughout
most of D&D, have little or nothing to do with the cultural period in which D&D is supposed to be taking
place: the middle ages. Even in China, Japan and India the pure worship of the demigod systems in those
places has been pre-empted by Buddhism, Taoism and the Upanishads (proposing a monist-pantheist
system), all prior to the 9th century. Thus, the makers of D&D ask you to play out the period of knights
and witches, but no Christianity, please. Certainly, no Judaism, Islam or Zoroastrianism – though these
religions represent the bulk of belief by the time knights began to joust.

As such, we’re left with a bunch of meaningless sacrifices which are meant to take place at certain times
and in certain places (based on a Celtic-Druidic experience, for the most part, dating from before 400
BCE) ... and that’s it. At best, a few myths are dragged out for the purposes of creating a hook for an
adventure, but most, particularly the unpleasant life-structuring models, are deliberately ignored.
Characters and players dwell in a 21st century mindset surrounded by capitalism, atheism and liberalism,
none of which requires of them any social or moral responsibility whatsoever – except that most
campaigns usually retain a dictatorially imposed politically correctness.

It wouldn’t be popular to suggest that in a campaign that incorporated actual deities of incomprehensible
power, every action and step of a party would have consequences of Gilgameshian or Beowulfian
dimensions (Beowulf having been conceived of when the Norse were not yet monotheistic). The principal
theme would be fate. I’ll repeat that for those of you at the back who are not paying attention: FATE.

Hundreds, even millions of entities (if Hinduism is to be taken as a template), possessing powers on a
magnitude unrepresented in D&D, not limited by the mortal’s conception of time and space, could only
see intelligent entities within the Prime Material plane as pawns, to be marched out and sacrificed as
necessary. Only imagine a chessboard with a thousand sides, marching pawns forward from a thousand
directions, with some gods possessing many pawns and some gods possessing very few – and each god
marking babies upon birth as best they are able. This one will grow to be a mage, and this one a fighter,
and this one’s death from a trap which will separate his head from his body at twenty-two will feed blood
to the insects whose actions over the thirty hours that follow will certify their reincarnation into powerful
titans whose loyalty to this god will enable him to win these squares on this portion of the board.

How does one run that as a DM? How do you explain to your party that it’s not you that has decided they
will die before they reach Ragnard, but the entity who is called Gragnoth in these lands north of the
Sewwar River? That they only manner in which Gragnoth will not clamour for their deaths is if they cease
to use leather, leather in any form, to appease the Goddess Usarion, who hates Gragnoth and will use her
influence to see to it his 30 HD dire wolves are diverted at the critical juncture. Yet once they’ve
renounced leather and all its evils, who is to say that Orswidth, God of Cattlemen, will not stir up the ire of
two massive cattle butcherers at the very next tavern the party enters ...

Where does it end? You want hooks? You’ve got infinite hooks. Gentle reader, you cannot help thinking in
terms of gods as make-believe. Every religion has explained the absence of gods by the argument that the
gods really don’t care that much. But we know the gods don’t care that much because there are no gods.
Can it be true if there ARE gods, and they have access to your world?

Last point: I follow the principle that the gods were invoked by intelligent humanoids, and that obedience
and worship of the gods creates stronger, more capable gods. People believe in the gods, who gain power
from that belief.

Thus the motivation for gods to interact in the business of the world. To gain believers, to gain power, to
crush opponents by crushing their believers. So the technology of Polytheism, in my world, is the creation
of gods who will actually make life easier (as they actually exist and can actually answer prayers) – but the
price that is paid is the conflict that follows.

Bringing me to a small teaser, to be handled later: the gods, I argue, believe in me. I am thus the DM, and
the most powerful being. I did, after all, create the world. Monotheism is therefore the discovery of ME.

But that is for another day.

City State Region

While working on Fight On! article I ran into a bit of writer's block and decided to work out what the
immediate region around the City-State looked like.

This is the hand drawn map I used for nearly 24 years.

Sometimes in the early nineties I stated out all the settlements in the main campaign area. Below is the
data for the above map.

Fief Type Holder Loc. ManorsAcres LQ HouseHolds

City-State City Overlord Lucius III City-State 0 0 1.03 4,100

Woe Keep (District Governor) Darkfield 7 17,500 0.98 225

Darkfield Castle Darkfield 42 105,000 1.00 1,150

Keep Darkfield 20 50,000 1.00 550

So I pulled up the regional template I created for Nho and started drawing away. Coming up with this.
As you can see the Majestic Wilderlands is more packed than the Wilderlands of High Fantasy where
civilization exists. Instead of isolated settlements my Majestic Wilderlands is strips of civilization
surrounded by wilderness. I find this ideal for my style. There are area dense enough to run the cultural
clash plots I like to run a lot but the wilderness with ruins and dungeons is just a hop and a skip away.

City-State is the black square drawn in the middle. It is drawn to scale. The round keep system to the
north is Woe. The black road with white going west is the Rorystone Road. The forest to the east is
Dearthwood. The black road with white going SE from City-State is the Old South Road. The swamp to the
north is the Troll Fens, the Swamp to the south is the Mermist Swamp.

The reason there is a bunch of villages between the swamp and the river is that the string of lakes is where
it used to go. It shifted course a couple of decades ago during a series of bad floods forming an isolated
district.

A series of chalk hills form the southern boundary of the Troll Fens. The land slopes upwards from the
Mermist Swamps forming the hills when it drops suddenly on the Troll Fen (north) side. There are several
good sites for mining and quarries which the triangle represent.

This topography also keeps the narrow strip between the large marshes well drained. It also a critical
component of the defense of City-State as any army is forced to come straight at the city through a
corridor 25 miles wide. Because of the fens and mountains and being at the head of navigation of the
Estuary of the Roglaroon City-State is an ideal market for connecting trade between the Winedark Sea to
the east and the interior of the Padizan Peninsula to the west.

The reason I created stats for the settlements in the Main Campaign Area is that many players in my
campaign wind up owning estates or managing them. The following is a series of rough rules for
calculating troop strengths and income.

Campaign Notes

Households average 5 people per.

You would have one knight equivalent per manor that averages 2,500 acres.

A Knight equivalent is 1 knight(hvy cavalry), 1 squire (light cavalry), and 3 footmen (assorted).
60% of Manors offer personal service for 90 days 40% will commute their service by paying a find of 90
gold apiece. If you want to get more complex some will offer more limited service for a fine of 1 gp per day
not served.

Because City-State is urban it's figures are calculated a bit differently.

4% of the households are counted as Knights equivalent. For City-State this means 164 knights
equivalents. Because City-State is a port this is split between land and naval forces.

Rough Income
If a noble owns a manor then he gets 3 gp per 10 acres plus 10 gp per household per year.
A vassals pays 1/3 of their income to their liege.

The trend in my campaign for the sovereign rulers to convert the feudal levy into money payments.. While
called fines the Overlord and the great nobles of City-State prefers that their vassals pay fines rather than
personally show up for service. This way they can hire mercenaries that are loyal to them and can serve all
year long.

One problem tho is that the City-State nobility is still very much dominated by the ethos of the Tharians
which places a premium on personal honor and strength. So the Overlord needs to keep calling on the
service of a number of his retainers so that they continue to remain loyal. Luckily with the creation of the
marches they owe loyal to him personally not to the great clans.

This is not an issue with the Ghinorians of Dearthmead or the Elessarians of Halnar. Dearthmead is
happy to pay fines for most of their obligations in exchange for the Overlord leaving them alone. Because
of the threat of the Kingdom of Antil, Halnar is a firm ally of the Overlord. But they rather keep their
levies at home on the border with Antil so they are glad to pay the fines instead.

For those of you who went through the Brave Halfling's Ruins of Ramat at the conventions Hex 0106 is
where I was placing it.
Some structure for your Sandbox campaign

In this post at the Old Guy's RPG Blog Chgowiz talks about a difficult session he had as a DM. One
comment caught my eye

1. Make some defined missions available. Not everyone wants to go out and explore and just figure out the
world on their own. The thing about my sandbox is that while I made this wide open dynamic world that
keeps moving on, the players don't feel connected. So I will give them direct opportunities to get
connected.

For the past several years I participated in several forums discussions on Sandbox campaigns. One point
that keeps coming up is the idea that players can pick their own direction. All too often I see sandbox
proponents or novices take this to an extreme. Basically saying that the campaign is devoid of any type of
plot, story and the referee is there just to adjudicate what the players do.

Which is a recipe for having a bunch of a confused players and a referee not having fun.

I call what I write for my campaign plot. Unlike a story it is a plan comprised mostly of events that happen
in the future. The initial plot is written as if the PCs did not exist and unfolds what happens in your setting
for the next year or two. The crucial difference between what I do and what "narrative" RPGs do is that
after every session I modify my plot to account for what the players did (or not do). Sometimes everything
changes and the future is going down a completely different path than I originally planned. It is
immensely fun for me when that happens. Remember all the NPCs (unless dead) and all the locales
(unless destroyed) are still available for me to use. The context is completely different now that the PC
have acted.

As for helping out the PCs with a sandbox campaign you have to remember that they are part of a living
breathing world. Like our on live their characters will have family, friends, allies, and enemies. This what
gives the players a context in which to make their initial decision. As the campaign progresses often it will
take a life of it's own as the consequences of the consequences start propelling the game forward.

Especially for older edition D&D the PC's background are often useful when a character dies. One of the
original PC's allies, family, or friends can be selected as the new character for the player. While losing a
character always sucks in this case some measure of progress and continuity can be retained.

Most milieus have societies with religions, nobles, and other organizations. Characters that are members
these have a instant source of allies, resources and most importantly adventures. There often a price
attached in terms of loyalty and/or duty. But for truly interested players these details easily merge in their
character's backgrounds.

The key thing is that none of this imposed by the referee. You give the players some choices, and a little
guidance and help them to fill in the blanks in their background before playing. The result will be an
initial starting point from which they can start wandering the setting.

The Sandbox and Player Character Backgrounds

My post yesterday on structuring your sandbox has been making the rounds of other blogs. Like this
one at Trollsmyth. This caught my eye.

There’s been some talk about getting players “plugged in” to the campaign. Most of it has focused
on front-loading character involvement in the campaign. I’m going to respectfully disagree. While I
certainly enjoy working with a well-detailed character history, my players will report that it’s more a toy
for them to play with than for me these days. I’m much more about giving the players all the rope they
need to hang their characters.

It is hard to explain all the assumptions you have when you write about something. And I don't feel I did
that when I talked about character backgrounds. The traditional view of character backgrounds is that the
player writes a paragraph, one page, or god forbid ten pages of material that the GM weaves into the
campaign.

That not what I do.

My method is more akin to the Traveller method of character generation but without the tables. It is
replaced by a mini session or an exchange of email between me and the player. From that comes the
player's background. The "context" in which he exists in my Majestic Wilderlands.

This system evolved because only I know all the details and choices of my setting. It is unfair and
impractical to require a player in my game to just come up with a background that works in all aspects.

So what I do is sit down and ask them for a rough idea of what they want to play. Then I give some details
and choices with the pros and cons. After a half dozen or so rounds of this the result is the character winds
up with some allies, some responsibilities, and yes a background.

At no point I am requiring the player to do anything. Most of the time I am giving benefits in the form of
resources and allies that the freebooter adventurer would not have. The players realizes they have much to
gain so they start to think carefully of their choices. The few times that doesn't result in a benefit is
because the player wants to have a challenging role. The player chooses to exist in difficult circumstances.

There is a very practical reason I go this length. Because I found that players get more adventures this
way. They wind up caring more about the adventure they choose to go on beyond the loot and gold. There
is more at stake, their reputation, prestige, or losing valuable resources and allies. As a result they are
more immersed in the campaign.

Another reason to do this that it makes roleplaying easier. I am capable of coming up with quirky
personalities coupled with voicework to make a memorable character. But it is far easier to roleplay when
I am drawing inspiration from what motivates my character than trying to act out a role. And I find this
helps other roleplayers regardless of what their skill level is.

Finally I find this is what you have to do for the long haul. If you want a campaign that last 30 years or
even just stick to the same genre. You need to go beyond the tabula rosa.

If you want to see what this looks like from a player's point of view I refer you to these three posts at the
Rusty Battle Axe.

Roleplaying Warrior Societies

My view is that in a "warrior society" there is a premium placed on physical prowess at whatever skills the
society values, (archery, horsemanship, etc). If you actually lived there your impression will be much like
witnessing a whole town of football fanatics (American or soccer). There will be a hierarchy of physical
skill and experience with most at the level that would be considered "backyard" football. Along with nearly
everybody having the same childhood experience of training. (A society where 80% of the males joins
youth football). The average skill level of the population will be shifted higher because of the emphasis on
warrior training and ethos.

For most warrior societies it will seem more violent due to different safety standards. I.e. the backyard
football is always full contact and never just "touch" football. True intent to maim (or kill) will be frowned
on and the grounds for legal action or feuds.*

However the best of civilization is likely to beat the best of a "warrior" society" due civilization's ability to
preserve and pass on knowledge. A warrior society acquiring civilization rapidly transitions because the
relative abundance allow the mediocre warrior to flourish at other occupations.

With that being said, a civilized warrior society is usually the result of a conquering population oppressing
a slave population like the Assyrians and the Spartans and usually is transitory compared to surrounding
cultures.

I don't have any hard data to support this other than general knowledge of how skill differences work in a
human population and a few historical accounts.

*One of the reasons I have such a generous negative hit points rule in my D&D campaigns is to allow PCs
and NPCs to bash the shit out of each other and the result be unconsciousness rather than automatic
death. My rule is -3 at first level growing by -3 per level until you reach your constitution. A character with
a 15 constitution will die at -15 hit points at 5th level and that where it stops.
Playing with Languages

I just sent the following info to my players in my hacked Moldvay/Cook/Labyrinth Lord game.

The primary language spoken throughout the world is Common, a trader language based heavily on he
languages of the Lizardfolk empires. This was started by merchants, but has acquired the aggressive
support of the gods who hope to use it as a way to forge closer ties between all the peoples and nations of
the world. All PCs start off speaking Common.

Human characters probably also speak their native tongue. There are dozens of human languages
scattered across globe. Finding someone else who speaks the same language, however, is pretty rare once
you travel beyond a few hundred miles from your home town.

Common Fey, or just Fey, is spoken by all the races of Fairy. These include elves, gnomes, pixies, nixies,
centaurs, satyrs, dryads and the like, plus trolls. If your character is an elf or gnome, they also speak this
language. Many human magic-users learn Fey, since a lot of work was done on the arcane sciences during
the age of the Empire of the Elves.

High Fey was the courtly tongue of the Empire of the Elves. It is an extremely complex and nuanced
language. It was primarily used for legislative communications and decrees. However, it also is useful to
magic-users wishing to learn more of the secret magics of the elven emperors.

The lizardfolk have their own language, unified at the time of their first great empire. There are many
dialects and local slang, but generally, if you speak Lizardfolk, you can talk to anyone else who speaks it.
This is the second most popular language, after Common.

Nagpa is a dead language, mostly because all the Nagpa are supposed to be dead. These vulture-headed
humanoids were spawned by Tiamat to organize her children before the Third War of the Monsters. The
Nagpa were obsessed with magic and plundered all the peoples of the world for their magical secrets. It's
thus a very popular language among magic-users, especially those who live on the shores of the Turquoise
Sea.

Beyond her experiment with the Nagpa, however, Tiamat was never really big on unity or organization. So
her other children almost all speak their own languages. The most common of these are Orc (spoken by
orcs and ogres and most giants), Goblin (spoken by kobolds, goblins, hobgoblins, and bugbears), Gnoll
(spoken by gnolls, ghouls, and ghasts), and Dragon (spoken by dragons, wyverns, and the more intelligent
hydras). Most of the rest of the monsters who can speak have their own language. On the island of Dreng
Bdan, goblins and orcs are the most common creatures seen. Tribes of gnolls are known to live on the
mainland of Idumma.

Addendum: Two things I forgot to mention. First, High Fey is spoken only in royal courts or other
rarefied social strata. No character gets High Fey for free.

Second, yes, there is a Dwarven tongue and script. While the dwarves do use a more archaic form of their
language for formal occasions, it's not so different from their vernacular as to comprise its own language.

Tekumel-style underworlds

While doing some megadungeon research, I re-read a couple of Planet Algol posts about Saturday night
specials (1, 2) that include this EPT quotation:

Here too, the role of the “Saturday Night Special” cannot be overemphasized. Aside from the deliberately
or randomly determined “normal” contents of Underworld areas, it is interesting to develop large
complexes inhabited by special beings. These should have special histories, and players should hear
legends of their existence on the surface. Their abilities and treasures should be individually devised, since
these add interest and spice to the game.

So, I dug into the Petal Throne PDF, and found this:

An Underworld should consist of a number of levels of passageways, rooms, catacombs, shrines, tombs,
etc., etc. Each level is drawn on a sheet of graph paper (10 squares to the inch provides sufficient room to
develop large temple or tomb complexes). Levels are interconnected by stairways, sloping passages,
chutes, vertical shafts with or without ladders—etc. Levels need not be exactly one on top of the other, nor
need they all join neatly: i.e. one may have a level off to one side which is approachable only by a stairway
down from some upper level and which is not connected to any further upper or lower levels, Thus, the
Underworld of Jakalla has a very extensive first level, drawn on a 17” x 22” graph paper. Stairways and
other types of passage lead downwards from this to other levels, but those levels themselves are only
occasionally interconnected. Certain passages branch off to tie in with still other Underworld complexes;
some of these connector tunnels run for miles, being survivals from the ancient pre-cataclysm
underground transport system.

And this:

It is much more realistic and desirable to have an Underworld developed upon logical, “scenario” lines,
with large complexes of tombs, temples or other contents carefully worked out. These can be cut off from
one another, of course, by empty labyrinth areas or by randomly selected regions.

Further, about scenarios:

Countries, parties, Temple factions, nonhuman races, etc., etc., all will have objectives of some sort, and
the referee should sketch these in… Thus, players will encounter members of different factions within the
Imperium, various foreign agents with schemes of their own, individuals with a variety of plans and goals,
nonhumans, and other beings.
This makes a Tekumel underworld sound very different structurally than an OD&D dungeon (or, at any
rate, an OSR megadungeon):

 a HUGE first level — drawing on 17” x 22” graph of 10 squares per inch

 a limited number of lower levels

 most lower levels connect directly to the huge first level, with only limited connections to each
other

 long “trunk” connections to a network of other dungeons

More interesting to me is the classification and arrangement of different types of spaces within a single
level:

 Saturday Night Specials, which consist of:

o rumors or legends the characters hear before finding the special

o a unique monster or monster type

o a large complex

o unique treasures with a history

 Scenario areas (where factions pursue their goals)

 randomly generated or empty areas that divide the Specials and Scenario areas
The Lesser Gods of Oerth and sweaty pseudopods

I never ran or played in a Greyhawk campaign, but I did get the 1983 boxed set as a kid. Reading it today
for the first time in many years, this passage caught my attention:

The people of Oerth worship many gods. Only deities of the central Flanaess are detailed here, and of
those, only the lesser gods (in most cases) have been detailed. In general, the greater gods are too far
removed from the world to have much to do with humanity, and while they are worshiped, few people
hold them as patrons.

These deities have been known to intercede directly in the affairs of men… a demi-god and a godling
might well become embroiled in human affairs…

In my games, the gods — big or small — remain distant, their existence implied only by the granting of
cleric spells, which is strange, since my imaginings about such things were founded on youthful readings
about Homer’s compulsively meddling, all too relatable pantheon. Maybe that one DM who used an uber-
powerful archmage to lead our characters by their noses through his epic Lord of the Rings knock-off
made me over-vigilant.

I’m changing-up to radically familiar gods in my new campaign. These minor deities have only a handful
of spell-casting clerics, and they appear personally to replenish spells.

Imagine: you’re a cleric, sleeping after an exciting adventure that exhausted you and all your spells. At
some point in the night, your god — with his sweaty hands (or pseudopods or whatever) and coffee breath
— shakes you awake and whispers divine revelations in your ear. Sort of like Santa Claus or your creepy
uncle.

Well, maybe…
Name Culture Status Domains Sex Aliases
Ajujo Black Kingdoms Demi Combat, Luck, Male
Plague
Anu Ophir Demi Fertility, Strength Male
Ashtoreth Shem Demi Fertility, Protection Female
Asura Vendhya, Intermediate Healing, Illusion, Male
Iranistan Knowledge,
Serpents
Bel Zamora, Shem Lesser Chaos, Death, Unknown The Masked God
Trickery
Bori Hyperborea Demi Strength, War Male
Crom Cimmeria Demi (none) Male The Grim Grey God
Dagon Shem, Black Lesser Protection, Water, Male
Kingdoms Weather
Damballah Zembabwei, Lesser Death, Evil, Male Set (Stygia)
Black Kingdoms Serpents
Derketo Stygia, Shem, Demi Healing, Seduction Female Derketa (Black
Black Kingdoms Kingdoms)
Erlik Turan, Hyrkania Intermediate Death, Knowledge, Male The God of the Yellow
Prophecy Hand of Death
Golden Shem Demi Blood, Trickery Unknown
Peacock
Gwahlur Keshan Demi (?) Darkness, Prophecy Male The King of Darkness
Hanuman Zamboula, Demi Beast, Illusion, Male Lord of the Black Throne
Vendhya Knowledge
Harakht, Stygia Demi Animal, Knowledge, Male
Hawk-God of War
Ibis Stygia, Nemedia Demi Knowledge, Magic, Male
Protection
Ishtar Shem, Koth, Lesser Earth, Healing, Female Earth-Mother, Shub-
Khauran, Fertility, Seduction Niggurath
Khoraja
Jhebbal Sag Pictland, Black Lesser Beast, Chaos, Male Lord of Beasts
Kingdoms Strength
Jhil Ghanata Demi Air, Law, Strength Male
(Darfar), Picts
Jullah Black Kingdoms, Demi Beast, Strength Male Gullah (Pictland)
Picts
Kali Vendhya, Lesser Death, Fertility, Female The Black Mother
Ghulistan Healing, War
Mitra Western Intermediate Good, Healing, Male
Kingdoms Protection, Sun
Nebethet Punt Demi Death, Luck, Female The Ivory Goddess
Prophecy
Nergal Shem Lesser Destruction, Plague, Male
War
Pteor Shem Lesser Air, Fertility, Male Adonis
Strength
Set Stygia, Shem, Intermediate Death, Evil, Magic, Male Father Set, The Great
Black Kingdoms Serpents, Weather Serpent, Damballah
(Black Kingdoms)
Wiccana Brythunia Demi Healing, Plant Female Nature Goddess
Xotli Atlantis Demi Blood, Evil Unknown
Yajur Kosala Demi Death, Prophecy Unknown The God of Yota-Pong
Yama Meru Demi Evil, Fire Male King of Devils
Ymir Nordheim Demi Destruction, Male The Frost Giant
Strength, War
Yog Darfar, Zuagirs Demi Bats, Blood, Unknown The Lord of Empty
Darkness Abodes
Yun Khitai Lesser Guardian, Plant Male?
Zath Zamora Demi Darkness, Spiders Unknown Omm, The Spider-God of
Yezud
The Hyborian world knew as many cults and religions as it knew tribesfolk and peoples, and religious
practices and beliefs were as often the result of superstitious dread and sorcerous practices as of exalted
spiritual yearnings and theological understanding.

In any case, the age bred few atheists, and even the most cynical of philosophers accepted the existence of
greater beings, both good and evil, as a fundamental tenet of reality. Though the various individual gods
were often worshipped within strict geographical boundaries, the age was throughly polytheistic, and it
was a matter of course for nations to acknowledge the existence of rival deities to their own. The major
exception to this rule was to be found among certain priests and adherents to the god Mitra who declared
their deity to be the one true god, deserving of unwavering, monotheistic devotion.

Among the barbarian Aesir and Vanir of Nordheim, Ymir the Frost Giant, lord of storm and war, was
chief of all gods, while individual tribes might have their own local deities as well. Ymir's domain was
Valhalla, a snowy, shadowy place that was home to warriors fallen in battle; Ymir's daughter, Atali, was
said to have appeared to dying warriors as harbinger of their journey to her father's realm.

The Cimmerians worshipped a grim and savage god, Crom, Lord of the Great Mountain, who cared little
for mankind save to breathe into men's souls the power to strive and slay. The Cimmerians believed in a
shadowy afterlife in which the souls of the dead would wander Crom's grey realm aimlessly for all eternity.

The Hyperboreans to the east worshipped ancient Bori, while west of Cimmeria the Picts served Jhebbal
Sag, the "ancient god of darkness and fear", as well as the Ghost Snake and Gullah the gorilla-god.
Unlike the Cimmerians, the Picts had no aversion to human sacrifice, and their black altars were
permanently stained with the gore of men, women and children.

In the kingdoms of Aquilonia, Argos, Ophir, Nemedia and Zingara, south of Nordheim and
Cimmeria, Mitra worship was almost universal, rivaled here and there only by cults of small numbers
such as that of Asura, Ibis, Ishtar, and even, to some degree, the Stygian serpent-god, Set. Unlike the
battle-minded gods of the north, Mitra was a gentle god. Blood sacrifice was expressly forbidden in the
Mitran religion, the rituals of which were marked by simplicity, dignity, and beauty. Unlike pagan idols,
the statues of Mitra were mere emblems meant to represent the god in idealized form and not to be
worshipped themselves.

Koth, which at one time knelt to Mitra, afterwards fell under the influence of Shem and Stygia and
abandoned the gentle god for the more sensual rites of Ishtar, as did Khoraja and Khauran.

The city-states of Corinthia may each have had patron gods, though Mitra-worship was known there, as
was the cult of Anu the bull-god.
Zamora, on the other hand, never accepted Mitra but played host rather to any number of weird and
mysterious cults and divinities. Most notorious of them was Bel, the god of thieves, borrowed from the
Shemites of Shumir, and most horrible was the nameless spider-god of Yezud, worshipped in the form
of a giant tarantula sculpted in black stone.

The land of Shem also worshipped a plethora of divine beings, most of them fertility gods and goddesses
as befitting an agricultural people. Each city-state owned its own patron deity such as Bel, noted earlier,
and Pteor, the male sky-god, mate to the Earth-Mother; the latter appeared in several guises
as Ashtoreth, Derketo and Ishtar. Ishtar, in particular, was worshipped in rich temples and at lavish
shrines with rituals of blood sacrifice and orgiastic frenzy performed before sensuously carved idols of
ivory.

To the Zuagir tribesmen of the Eastern Desert, Yog, the ancient demon Lord of he Empty Abodes, was
considered most sacred.

South of Shem, in Stygia, Set the Old Serpent reigned paramount, a reminder of the Elder Gods
worshipped everywhere in the pre-human period of history and later feared in the Hyborian kingdoms as
the most abhorrent and foul of demons. Indeed, the gruesome rituals of Set worship, carried out in
temple, tomb and pyramid, and including live human sacrifice and sorcerous obscenities, only
underscored the reason why Set's very name evoked disgust and terror among civilized and barbarian
peoples alike.

Among the Black Kingdoms Set held some sway, but native gods such as Jullah, Jhil and Gwahlur had
large followings of their own, as did countless local demons and spirits.

Turan in the east held Erlik and the Living Tarim as holiest of gods, while Zamboula bowed
to Hanuman the horrible man-ape god.

Farther east in Kosala, the cult of Yajur offered their bloodthirsty god strangled humans, while in
Khitai Yun seems to have been worshipped less violently with incense and prayer.
Chgowiz

Setting specific classes

1. Qualifications
2. Affects on Class Abilities
3. Bonuses/Restrictions
4. Roleplaying Guidelines

Alternative Poison Rule

For poisons of creatures of less than 2HD, for many contact poisons and some (weak) ingested poisons, make a
save vs. poison. If they fail:

1. Victim is penalized -4 on melee/missile to-hits and other saving throws.

2. A d6 determines how many turns elapse before the PC must make a "Constitution survival (system
shock) check". (OD&D: CON of 6 or less, AD&D: Con of 5 or less: 0% chance).  If the PC has a 13+
con (OD&D), or 15+ con (AD&D), the effects wear off after this initial period of illness with no hp
loss or further penalty.
3. A failed survival check means the poison does d6(OD&D) or one half of  2 to 4d10(AD&D, DMG pg
20 lays out the different classes of poison) hp damage. Another d6 is thrown to see how many turns
elapse before the next check.
4. A successful check means that the victim is able to withstand the effects of the poison and no longer
suffers from the penalties or damaging effects. Any lingering effects is up to the DM!
5. Poison hp loss may be cured at anytime, even while the victim is sick, but said curing does not remove
the effects of poison! Only antitoxin/antivenom, or some magical means that removes poison, will
heal the victim of the poison's effects.

For creatures of 2+HD or virulent/strong poisons, the "save or die" rule applies, unless other effects are noted
for the poison.

For me, this is a nice little subsystem that uses Constitution and hp in ways that make sense to me. It is
possible that one may indeed die from poison, but at least there is a 1 to 6 turn time period which they
desperately search for a means of survival. It might not necessarily be "simple", but it's something I could play
now and again, for a bit of variety to how poisons work.