Some developments with the Hounds have led to a conflict (and, really at its heart, a misunderstanding) of how adventurers interact with the law—or how they must necessarily interact with the law. You see, this sequence of comments stuck out to me from our game the other night. They revolved around the idea of the difference between money earned "legally" and "illegally" by the party. Cain the Dorl (who is a LN mercenary) was upset and disturbed by the party's wanton murder and looting (note that most of them are CG) of a morally reprehensible local that they decided to rid the city of. There was no question that this fellow was in league with some bad forces. Vagr Blackstone was the hookup for the Temple of the Three Shadows and he serviced both thieves and smugglers across Tyrma by getting them in touch with the Shadow Temple.
That being said, the party murdered him without provocation. Indeed, they drew him out and ambushed him to prevent him from putting out a contract on a friendly local dwarven smith. They followed this up with a deadly raid on his hold, slaying most of his thugs and servants. Cain stayed well clear of this second activity.
After all was said and done, most of the group felt that what they had done was justified and that they had earned Vagr's money (which they stole from his hold) fair and square. Cain didn't feel the same. When his player said "But you essentially just murdered this guy and robbed his house," they responded, "Isn't that how adventurers always get money?"
This brings up THE LAW. Do adventurers essentially just kill people they don't like and take their stuff? Certainly, they seem to engage in this behavior a lot. Is it the only way that adventurers can behave? That is a murkier question by far.
PART ONE: Whither the Lawful Adventurer?
Not a lot of people that I play with tend to play lawful characters. Most fall somewhere on the sliding scale between neutral and chaotic. It just seems to have worked out that way. Does this mean that there can be no lawful adventurers? I heartily think not. Whatever the reason that my players have for avoiding law (except for Cain's player, who embraces its structure as necessary and right nine characters out of ten), that doesn't preclude it from being an acceptable alignment for an adventurer.
If all adventures break down to the simple premise that the party identifies someone they want to kill, murders them, and then steals the things which are their belongings... well, of course none of these adventurers are lawful. That narrative is one that has been very powerful and popular in D&D discourse—describing adventurers as "murder hobos." But I think the power of that characterization has completely obliterated or obscured the potential for lawful adventure in the main channels of discourse.
So, if lawful adventurers are not, by definition, impossible it must follow that some adventures are comprised of more than "identify foe, kill foe, loot foe."
PART TWO: The Setup
Here are some scenarios that look very similar:
1. The party, looking around for work, is brought to the manse or curia of a baron. He offers a reward if the PCs will slay an evil wizard who lives in town.
2. The PCs encounter an evil wizard in town and decide to kill him after discovering that he is murdering people in his basement.
3. The PCs are attacked by goblins on the road and slay them. They trace their tracks to their lair and slay those too.
4. The PCs find some bandits or outlaws and decide to wipe out their camp.
The question here is: Which of these scenarios violate a lawful alignment?
My answer is thusly: only #2.
"WHY!" I hear you clamor. "What could possibly make #2 different from #3 and #4?"
The answer lies deep in...
PART THREE: Medieval Law
We're used to a society in which the law applies equally to everyone. If you meet a man on a highway and he tries to rob you, you are not justified in killing him unless you can say you legitimately fear for your life. If you meet a homeless man living out in the woods, you are not justified in killing him.
The same is not true in a society of medieval laws. Outlaws, bandits, goblins, and all manner of creatures do not have the protection of the law. The evil wizard who lives in the town does. Thus, only when the baron (assumed here to be the local law) gave the alright (for, if he is the local lord it is within his power to condemn this man to death and remove the just protection of law—or at least it is assumed so in this case, though perhaps a trial must be in order if the lord does not have that power).
These people who abandon the protection of law are all over the medieval record. Living outside civilization, essentially, curtails your rights. You are a legal non-entity. And while it would still behoove a lawful character to ask about slaughtering bandits in the forest, or to bring an evil wizard to the nearest town for justice, they would be under no LEGAL obligation to do so. As Frank pointed out, a LE character would feel that same urge, perhaps to bring the mage in for a higher reward but might decide midway along the route that he was too dangerous to transport and just kill him. No laws there are broken.
#2 could be brought along to the lawful end of the spectrum if it was amended with: and bring this information to the local baron, who holds a curia to investigate, discovers it is true, and authorizes them to deal the wizard's death.
PART FOUR: The Judicial Duel
A last note: sometimes, in polite society, people just couldn't get along. You could accuse someone of something until you were blue in the face but maybe there was no way to resolve it; your lord, for example, refuses to hear the case. Judicial dueling can therefore substitute court in many lands and is completely legal and acceptable. This is an out, perhaps, for lawful characters who simply must destroy their foe—challenge him to a duel. This will either result in a great loss of honor for him, his death, or the PCs death.
Two out of three ain't bad!
Friday, May 24, 2013
Thursday, May 23, 2013
Stewhouses, bathing, and begin clean
Public baths are an ancient european invention, traceable at least as far as the Romans. I can't think of any sources indicating that the Greeks had public baths, but then I'm not so very well versed on Greek material culture—please, correct me if I'm wrong on that point. Either way, the tradition of the public bath was something deeply entrenched; hot water was, of course, part of the ritual. In ancient days it was warmed from beneath (as it is in the cities of Arunian elves and the great urban centers of the Third Empire were the infrastructure has survived) but by the Middle Ages we're looking at a much more primitive style of bathing.
From heated marble pools, we transition into a world of baths (both private and public) which are filled with water heated in jugs or kettles and then poured into wooden tubs.
That right there is one pimpin' lord, with what appear to be four (count 'em, FOUR) sexy maid servants in full bliauts and gowns attending him. Well, maybe that one with the chalice is his wife or mistress. She's dressed up too nice. But that old woman in white is definitely heating up his water for him. Of course, this is a private bathing practice we're looking at. This lord decided he wanted to take his hairy ass out into the castle garden and take a dip.
But what about the public baths? From what I understand they were shacks or shanties erected near a water source where similar half-barrel tub constructions were rented out for a few sheckles. This wasn't a regular daily activity, but the health benefits of bathing were fairly well known. Not as potent, perhaps, as visiting a relic or shrine, but if you lived in London or Paris infinitely less costly than going on a pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostela.
What's my point? In any sufficiently developed medieval urban center, public baths are likely to spring up. The same goes for the fantasy coaching house that we've developed into the all-inclusive Inn in most fantasy. It is likely that such a place (assuming the trade on the road was great enough to even support it, but that's another entry I think) would keep at least a few tubs for bathing. Hell, even if they didn't they would have to keep one for washing that you could use unless they were close enough to a river.
Indeed, let us not discount bathing in rivers, which has Biblical connotations.
From heated marble pools, we transition into a world of baths (both private and public) which are filled with water heated in jugs or kettles and then poured into wooden tubs.
That right there is one pimpin' lord, with what appear to be four (count 'em, FOUR) sexy maid servants in full bliauts and gowns attending him. Well, maybe that one with the chalice is his wife or mistress. She's dressed up too nice. But that old woman in white is definitely heating up his water for him. Of course, this is a private bathing practice we're looking at. This lord decided he wanted to take his hairy ass out into the castle garden and take a dip.
But what about the public baths? From what I understand they were shacks or shanties erected near a water source where similar half-barrel tub constructions were rented out for a few sheckles. This wasn't a regular daily activity, but the health benefits of bathing were fairly well known. Not as potent, perhaps, as visiting a relic or shrine, but if you lived in London or Paris infinitely less costly than going on a pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostela.
What's my point? In any sufficiently developed medieval urban center, public baths are likely to spring up. The same goes for the fantasy coaching house that we've developed into the all-inclusive Inn in most fantasy. It is likely that such a place (assuming the trade on the road was great enough to even support it, but that's another entry I think) would keep at least a few tubs for bathing. Hell, even if they didn't they would have to keep one for washing that you could use unless they were close enough to a river.
Indeed, let us not discount bathing in rivers, which has Biblical connotations.
Wednesday, May 22, 2013
The Valravne
My players: If you want to be surprised by things in the game, probably don't read this entry. I'm not saying these guys are coming, but just in case they ever DO.
Valravn
Valravn
CLIMATE/TERRAIN: Forests, Battlefields
FREQUENCY: Very Rare
ORGANIZATION: Solitary
ACTIVITY CYCLE: Any
DIET: Carrion
INTELLIGENCE: Low (5-7) [lesser] or Genius (17-18) [greater]
TREASURE: None
ALIGNMENT: Any evil (usually chaotic)
NO. APPEARING: 1-12 (lesser) or 1 (lesser)
ARMOR CLASS: 4 raven, any (often plate or mail armor) for polymorphed form
MOVEMENT: Fl 36 (B), 1 [raven] or 12 polymorphed
HIT DICE: 3 or 8
THAC0: 18 or 13
NO. OF ATTACKS: 1
DAMAGE/ATTACK: 1 or polymorphed by weapon +1
SPECIAL ATTACKS: See below
SPECIAL DEFENSES: See below
MAGIC RESISTANCE: --
SIZE: S or M
MORALE: Steady (11-12)
XP VALUE: 420 or 3,000
Ravens that eat the flesh of men, elves, or other battle-slain sometimes acquire dark knowledge. Those who eat the heart of a sorcerer or a king may transform into the valravne, beings of immense malicious power. These creatures appear in the dwarven eddas were they are called by that name, but they are also known amongst the other races as well—in elvish, they are the roceylin and in Varan malcornix.
Flesh ravens (as they are sometimes called) come in two varieties: the greater and the lesser. Dwarves believe that they are sacred to Erith, and it may be so since there are records of valravne guarding the sanctums of Erithian temples. Lesser valravne are dangerous, but greater valravne are downright terrifying.
Sometimes these creatures are known as ravnwere by the Alurans.
Combat: Lesser valravne share a number of common powers with their greater kin. However, greater flesh ravens can transform into a knightly or wizardly form of any race which they have devoured. Lesser valravne cast use their spell-like abilities as though they were level 4, greater valravne as though they were level 9. All valravne may use the following powers once per day: animate dead and domination. They may use the following powers three times per day: darkness 60' radius, silence 15' radius, and gust of wind. They may use the following powers any number of times: dancing lights, audible glamor, and improved phantasmal force. They constantly have a low level passive ESP which allows them to pick up on fears and desires of targets.
Greater valravne may polymorph into the form of any of the races they have slain three times per day. When they do this, they instantly regain 2d12 hp (if they are injured). This ability is nothing like the actual wizard spell of the same name—the valravn transforms completely into the form of another, much as a therianthrope might. This transformation comes complete with arms and armor of the slain.
These greater valravne may masquerade as other races for centuries, though they mostly have a favorite form that they fall back to; this is almost without variance a hulking warrior wearing plate or mail armor and wielding a weapon of a devoured foe. The valravn fights as a specialized warrior with 2 attacks every round and the ability to draw upon his (or her) normal valravn powers.
There are legends that valravn of the greater variety who have devoured a wizard can read magic at will and myth suggests that some of these creatures have gone on to masquerade as sorcerers, picking up whatever magic they can and amassing mighty powers.
All valravne will use their powers to confuse and separate their prey, lure them to their deaths, and then feast upon them. Darkness, dancing lights, and phantasmal force are often shape to make the best use of their target's mental state. They will often prefer to terrify a foe first, in order to render them more helpless.
Tuesday, May 21, 2013
Sacculae et librae; germanicus et latinus et cetera
I've been re-reading everything that I own by Mary Carruthers recently. She gave one of the plenary sessions at Kalamazoo this year, and her paper was (as always) amazing. I'm back waist-deep in The Book of Memory and planning to work my way through The Craft of Thought soon. Reading these always provides me with a number of thoughts, some of them D&D related. While they are extremely difficult reads (you can contest me on this and I won't argue—maybe they're only difficult for me) but these books more than any other have helped me understand and attempt to enter into the medieval mindset. Her analysis of how the classical and medieval world viewed memory and the very faculties of the mind helps to erect that alien wall that separates us from the past. As they say, the past is a foreign country...
Arca -- Chests. Arcae are also known as "strongboxes" or even "arks." They're usually flat-topped and often banded with iron. Yeah, you can just call 'em chests with flat tops, but why not call 'em arcae instead? Yeah, you love that latin, you filthy bitch.
Wax tablets -- the most common writing surface in a world where books are made out of expensive dead animals. Everyone who's anyone that needs to frequently erase should be writing on wax tablets. Everything from keeping house accounts to the party inventory! They're usually kept inside wooden trays, so you can make a little book of them.
Insofar as Cults and Temples, I'm still moving forward apace with it, though a lot of my time has been devoted to improving my Latin, beginning to comprehend German, and studying for the GREs (and if anyone knows of any really good Latin resources, I could certainly use them). That means that, yes, my work on the Cults book has been a lot slower than normal. I still have very little art for the boxed set, which means it is increasingly looking like it won't be done before the end of the year, but such is life, particularly when your artists are unpaid and working solely in their free time. Cryo, Tallstaff, this is not an admonition... (but it totally is)
Another little blurb of information--here are four things to use in your games.
Sacculae -- "coin sacks," are classical/medieval bags or chests. It's not VERY clear what they looked liked structurally, but they apparently have spaces for different coins, perhaps small books, and certainly wax tablets. These are either shelves or compartments.
Armarius (armarii) -- These are architectural features—inset arched niches with heavy shelves that make up part of a wall and are used to store codex manuscripts. Wizards probably have a lot of these, and they are way more common than free-standing bookshelves (though free-standing scroll cases are to be found in many libraries).
Arca -- Chests. Arcae are also known as "strongboxes" or even "arks." They're usually flat-topped and often banded with iron. Yeah, you can just call 'em chests with flat tops, but why not call 'em arcae instead? Yeah, you love that latin, you filthy bitch.
Wax tablets -- the most common writing surface in a world where books are made out of expensive dead animals. Everyone who's anyone that needs to frequently erase should be writing on wax tablets. Everything from keeping house accounts to the party inventory! They're usually kept inside wooden trays, so you can make a little book of them.
Monday, May 20, 2013
Pantheon Monday: Ashad the Murderer
(the Bloody, the Screaming, the Slaughterer, the Lord of Bones)
Intermediate God, CE
Portfolio: Slaughter, pillage, rape, fire
Aliases: None
Domain Name: The Bloody Field, Acheron
Superior: None
Allies: None
Foes: Toynash, Unazh, Alakh, Bandash, Ezishaya
Symbol: A screaming horned orc-head
Worshiper Alignment: Any evil
Ashad the Lord of Bones is the one of the creator gods of the orcs. Alongside Alakh, Ezishaya, Unazh, and Bandash he is the single most-worshiped deity of the orcish people. Ashad does not dictate what happens within orcish society—that is left to Bandash. Rather, Ashad cares only for the slaughter of outsiders, for all those slain in his name are linked to their killers in the afterlife; granted as slaves, it is said, to those who slay them.
If the myths of the orcs can be trusted, Unazh, Bandash, Alakh, Ezishaya, and Ashad came together to kill the Felnumen called Yuva and from the hot blood of the slaughter the orcs were born. Goblin-histories strongly disagree with this story, claiming stridently that orcs are goblin-kin, and were simply made from goblins that the lesser gods stole from Toynash by Alakh’s cunning.
Temples to Ashad are crude and without any refinement. They only require three things: a cult-statue, somewhere to perform blood sacrifices, and a fire. He cares only for the blood-sacrifice and the fear generated by war. His priesthood are universally feared, venerated, and reviled among orcs as they are the dark whispering heart of the constant blood-feud orcs wage with all other living things.
It may puzzle the outside viewer to see a society so ordered as the basic tenets of the orcs while still worshiping an insane bloodthirsty psychopath. Ashad doesn’t particularly seem to care what form organization his followers adhere to; he’s too busy screaming for blood.
Ashad is always depicted as a massive orc with flesh of either red or gray. His tusks are scythe-like and his horns curl like that of a ram’s. He is always shown with an axe in one hand, the fabled Shrieking Death. Few chieftains worship Ashad, for upon achieving ascendency many of them turn to Bandash or Toynash to allow their tribes more stability. Those who remain or become Ashadi lead the most fearsome of tribes; they care little for personal safety or that of their followers and will throw themselves and their tribes into willful annihilation if it will bring glory to Ashad.
The Church
Clergy: Speciality Priests
Clergy’s Alignment: CE, NE, LE, CN
Turn Undead: No
Command Undead: Yes
The temple of Ashad is not united, as the worship of this violent god could never fit under a single roof. The Ashadian cult is the result of a cultic war between the great orcish religions during the time of the ancient goblin-empires. Amongst the slaves, Ashad became a well-known and potent god, for he promised vengeance against the slavemasters and slaves of one’s own in the afterlife. His clergy therefore exist all over the world in the orcish diaspora, each small tribal group with their own beliefs and rites of worship. One thing that remains constant, however, is the Ashadian desire for blood sacrifice.
All orcish tribes of any standing keep a large group of communal slaves that can be used for doing labor. These are called the temple slaves, as they are usually administered by the guiding priests of the tribe. In addition to serving as supplemental labor forces, these slaves provide sacrificial fuel for all important ceremonies performed by the cult.
The worshippers of Ashad often have a strange attachment to corporeal viscera; gore, bone, and other such relics. Indeed, Ashadi temples are often repositories of bone; they delight in collecting the remains of those slaughtered in his name. Indeed, in the dark bowers of his temples he sometimes sends down his mighty servants to protect his eikons and enforce his will: the negative-energy bone weirds, comprised from the accumulated bones those slain in his name, tied to their masters.
Bloodletter of Ashad
(Specialty Priest)
REQUIREMENTS: Wisdom 6, Strength 12
PRIME REQ: Wisdom
ALIGNMENT: CE
WEAPONS: All
MAJOR SPHERES: All, Chaos, Combat, Elemental (fire), Healing (reversed), Necromantic, Necromantic (reversed), Protection, War
MINOR SPHERES: Divination, Guardian, Healing, Weather
MAGICAL ITEMS: Any priest
REQ. PROFS: None
BONUS PROFS: Blind-fighting, Endurance
Bloodletters are dangerous opponents on the battlefield. Bloodletters fight as though specialized with whatever weapons they are proficient in.
At 3rd level, the Bloodletter becomes even more fearsome when wounded. When a Bloodletter is at half hp or less, they gain a +1 bonus to-hit and damage as well as a -1 initiative bonus.
At 5th level, Bloodletters take half damage from mundane fires. They suffer 1 point less damage per die (minimum of one) from magical fires.
Friday, May 17, 2013
Organic Design
Just a few notes today. I've started using Evernote so I can secretly write D&D notes from anywhere in the world as long as I have my ipad/laptop and have them still show up at home when I'm back from whatever excursion I've been taking.
Additionally, I find that there is a certain threshold of planning where you reach a sort of critical mass and things begin to take on a life of their own. For example: if your players are going to interact deeply with a group of people, simply detailing a bit about each person ensures a session or two of play. When something goes awry (perhaps someone is murdered by someone else) you still need to figure out the clues or pointers, but it's all so simple because you designed the situation organically. Things just sort of fall into place.
I don't have a lot of time this morning, so I'll expand on this idea later or perhaps on tuesday.
Additionally, I find that there is a certain threshold of planning where you reach a sort of critical mass and things begin to take on a life of their own. For example: if your players are going to interact deeply with a group of people, simply detailing a bit about each person ensures a session or two of play. When something goes awry (perhaps someone is murdered by someone else) you still need to figure out the clues or pointers, but it's all so simple because you designed the situation organically. Things just sort of fall into place.
I don't have a lot of time this morning, so I'll expand on this idea later or perhaps on tuesday.
Thursday, May 16, 2013
"Social Levels"
Vagr Blackstone, the frontman for the Temple of the Shadow Triad, is dead. He was murdered by the Hounds the other night in one of those plans that broke down the instant an enemy touched it. With him, now dead, was Braggi Biletooth, the Valelan (secretly a skinchanger) who organized and deployed most of the cities' muscle in its lower circles. This is both a good thing and a bad thing for Tyrma—on the one hand, the Temple of the Triad has been at least temporarily weakened now that its spokesman to the smuggling community is dead. The same goes for anyone who employed Braggi to give them thugs and elvish enforcers: he's gone, and it will be a while before anyone steps in to take his place.
Of course, it could mean bad things too. All those poor elves with no other means of income who have been maimed on long sea voyages or were called in up for the militia to fight goblins and now have no homes, those guys? They're the thugs Braggi usually hires now. They're all free agents now. Confusion will rule the Tyrman underworld for a while as things get sorted out. Keir has already made some plans to take advantage of this; after all, what better time to strike at the diseased underbelly of the elvish capital than while it is mired in internal strife? This is what Cain (and the US Army) would refer to as Violence of Action, though Keir describes it as "striking the iron while it is hot."
But I want to talk about something else that resulted from this combat. A comment made by Frank afterwards is the heart of this discussion. He said to me, "I feel like I've gained a level." Not a physical level wherein you get a discreet allotment of hp and THAC0 adjustment, but a social level wherein the party itself has become a much more powerful entity in local politics. This is one of the great things about D&D after level 3.
Other games codify this social standing. It can be easier to have a handy number. L5R does it with Honor, Feudal Anarchy has a social rank number, and I believe Hârn does it too. D&D does not, leaving the power of your social advantage to remain unquantified before your eyes. This is, of course, more like life; can you trust your new allies? Just how strong is your new position? But it nevertheless serves an immensely important role in the game.
Going up in "social levels" means that you are more integrated into your surroundings. It means you have a network of allies, enemies, contacts, and those potential-contacts that are now closed to you because of your choices. The social bonds begin to wrap around your characters and it is deathly hard to shake those off without just abandoning the whole location. You are known. On the most basic level, this means adventures can start coming to you rather than you going to them. People will seek you out to hire—and to kill.
This is the beginning of the big boy stage where you aren't quite a landowner or lawmaker, but you certainly aren't walking uphill both ways to the dungeon with no shoes or hose and a 500 lb. backpack. You're a wizard now, Harry, and people are going to start treating you like one. Buckle on your sword but remember that you may be used by forces you don't understand or know yet. Keep a weather eye out and start cultivating a mythos about yourself—when people think you're unkillable, it makes them less likely to try.
Get ready for the ride of your life, you poor sorry fool, for now you are enmeshed in the world of the nobleman and they have no mercy or scruples when it comes to what they want. This is the middle game.
Of course, it could mean bad things too. All those poor elves with no other means of income who have been maimed on long sea voyages or were called in up for the militia to fight goblins and now have no homes, those guys? They're the thugs Braggi usually hires now. They're all free agents now. Confusion will rule the Tyrman underworld for a while as things get sorted out. Keir has already made some plans to take advantage of this; after all, what better time to strike at the diseased underbelly of the elvish capital than while it is mired in internal strife? This is what Cain (and the US Army) would refer to as Violence of Action, though Keir describes it as "striking the iron while it is hot."
But I want to talk about something else that resulted from this combat. A comment made by Frank afterwards is the heart of this discussion. He said to me, "I feel like I've gained a level." Not a physical level wherein you get a discreet allotment of hp and THAC0 adjustment, but a social level wherein the party itself has become a much more powerful entity in local politics. This is one of the great things about D&D after level 3.
Other games codify this social standing. It can be easier to have a handy number. L5R does it with Honor, Feudal Anarchy has a social rank number, and I believe Hârn does it too. D&D does not, leaving the power of your social advantage to remain unquantified before your eyes. This is, of course, more like life; can you trust your new allies? Just how strong is your new position? But it nevertheless serves an immensely important role in the game.
Going up in "social levels" means that you are more integrated into your surroundings. It means you have a network of allies, enemies, contacts, and those potential-contacts that are now closed to you because of your choices. The social bonds begin to wrap around your characters and it is deathly hard to shake those off without just abandoning the whole location. You are known. On the most basic level, this means adventures can start coming to you rather than you going to them. People will seek you out to hire—and to kill.
This is the beginning of the big boy stage where you aren't quite a landowner or lawmaker, but you certainly aren't walking uphill both ways to the dungeon with no shoes or hose and a 500 lb. backpack. You're a wizard now, Harry, and people are going to start treating you like one. Buckle on your sword but remember that you may be used by forces you don't understand or know yet. Keep a weather eye out and start cultivating a mythos about yourself—when people think you're unkillable, it makes them less likely to try.
Get ready for the ride of your life, you poor sorry fool, for now you are enmeshed in the world of the nobleman and they have no mercy or scruples when it comes to what they want. This is the middle game.
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