Hexmas: The Gingerbread Village

It's been a while since I posted anything on this blog. Part of that is because I haven't had the time or energy to write much, and part of it is that I've run through the material I had prepared for ongoing projects like The Saga of the Ortegids and don't have anything to fill the spots I would ordinarily be using for that content. Regrettably, this means that I've been behind the curve on the blogosphere, and that means it was only just now that I discovered Hexmas, Prismatic Wasteland's challenge to make a community-sourced Christmas-themed hexcrawl. That means that I'm jumping in far later than I would like to be doing so, and up against the deadline

But I like the idea, dammit, and I'll be damned if I'm going to let an opportunity like this pass me by. A couple years ago, I made a post about how there is a glaring lack of Christmas-themed adventures inspired by E.T.A. Hoffman's The Nutcracker and the Mouse King, and this gives me the perfect excuse. I was going to do a different post today, but that can wait.

The Gingerbread Village

North: House of the Kringles

Northwest: The Grumpus

West: Candy Cane Forest

Nestled at the foot of a snow-crested mountain, amidst a grove of pines, there lies a village of gingerbread. The modest settlement is ringed by a fence of candy canes (harvested from the forest to the west), and the buildings are made from gingerbread, decorated in peppermints and frosting. The people of this village, too, belong to a race of gingerbread folk, small in stature and similar in form to the domiciles they inhabit. The gingerbread folk are usually quiet and content to bide their time peacefully, but recently, their tranquility has been threatened by the coming of a threat from the mountain - the man-eating giant Sweettooth.

The village is a simple and self-sufficient one. Most buildings are modest family homes, but there is an inn, the Royal Icing, that will shelter travelers and offer them a stiff pint of the local specialty, ginger ale. Besides the inn, the most conspicuous building in town is the house of the mayor, Mr. Adrak, a luxurious gingerbread mansion that sits amidst a garden of candy canes and gumdrops the size of trees and bushes.

Or, at least, it was, before Sweettooth last struck about two days ago, smashing the roof under a giant rock and carrying away a few of Adrak's servants. Now, the roof of the mansion is caved in, and gingerbread men are working around the clock to clear away debris and stick the roof back together using icing. The mansion has been vacated since the attack, and Adrak is now staying at the inn while he waits for his home to be repaired. His demeanor has grown bitter since the attack (even if his flavor hasn't), and he demands that something must be done about Sweettooth before any other gingerbread men are lost!

If the PCs enquire about Sweettooth, the townspeople will direct them toward the house of the town doctor, Dr. Kolobok. The doctor is currently tending to Adrak's butler, Sir Peppercake, a well-mannered gingerbread man with a handlebar mustache made of icing who was in the mansion when Sweettooth attacked but was lucky enough to escape with his life. Alas, Dr. Kolobok only knows how to treat gingerbread folk, and has no understanding of the physiology of flesh-and-blood people. He will not be able to heal or cure any ailments the PCs face, but will find them quite interesting.

If the party seeks an audience with Sir Peppercake, he will describe his terrifying encounter with the giant, who grabbed three gingerbread men and a gingerbread maid and mercilessly devoured them in front of him! Peppercake only managed to escape the attack because one of his legs broke off in Sweettooth's grasp. The doctor managed to bake him a new leg and attached it with icing, but he's been resting it before he returns to work. Despite his master's fiery temper, Peppercake doesn't have any ill will toward Sweettooth, and believes the giant is only motivated by hunger - he just wishes he would stay away from the town in his pursuit of satiating himself.

The gingerbread folk have the stats of halflings. However, since they're made of gingerbread, they're more fragile than if they were made of flesh. Attacks made against them score critical hits on a roll to hit of 15-20.

The gingerbread folk know that Sweettooth lives in a cave at the top of the mountain. If the PCs make the ascent, they will discover that a ravenous giant indeed lives there. Sweettooth has the stats of an hill giant, and has an insatiable hunger for candy and sweets. If the PCs are openly carrying any sweets, or have any gingerbread folk or similar creatures accompanying them, he will attack on sight, trying to grab the sweets and run off with his bounty. He will not attack any creatures who do not have sweets on their person, and finds them boring and uninteresting. If he is denied sweets, he cries and pounds the walls, demanding the party share their treats with him.

What the gingerbread folk do not realize is that Sweettooth is not a full-grown giant! He is, in fact, the bratty son of a family of frost giants who dwell atop the mountain. His parents, Longtooth and Sharptooth, are disinterested in disciplining the boy and pay him no heed, focused only on decorating their cave for the coming winter festivities. They will, however, come to Sweettooth's aid if the child is harmed, throwing rocks at any intruders to try and drive them away from the cave.

If Sweettooth is dealt with, the gingerbread folk will be grateful and offer the PCs a free stay at the Royal Icing whenever they are in town, with plenty of ginger ale on the house. They will also offer the forge the PCs weapons of their choice made of candy glass - on a critical hit, the weapons explode and deal an additional die of damage to all creatures in 15 feet of the target due to the showering of candy shrapnel. If this happens, the weapons are destroyed, but the gingerbread folk will be happy to make replacements. It takes 1d4 days for a candy glass weapon to be completed.

Merry Hexmas!

Friday Encounter: Ogres' Ferry

Following up with the theme I've been on for the last few Friday Encounter posts, here's a simple puzzle I used in a recent session. I used it as a room in a dungeon, but it could easily be used in the wilderness as well.

The PCs should come across a river that is flowing too quickly to easily cross on foot, and no bridge or ford in sight. A small rowboat, big enough to hold two people at a time, is sitting on the shore closest to the PCs. Also on the shore with the PCs are a number of ogres equal to that of the party members, who are standing around grumbling and arguing with one another. At the sight of the PCs, they accost them, insisting they need their help to ferry them across the river. They note that they have been stranded here a while, and are growing hungry.

This encounter is based on an old logic puzzle known as the "missionaries and cannibals problem" or "jealous husbands problem" - to boil it down to the essentials, you have to get two parties of equal size across the river, making sure that Party A does not outnumber Party B on either bank of the river at any time.

In this case, the party must transport each ogre to the other side of the river. The boat can hold two people at any time - they can be ogres, PCs, or any combination of the two. However, the ogres are hungry enough to make a bid for the PCs if they think they can get away with it. The ogres are cowards, and they won't try to attack the PCs if there are more PCs present on their bank than ogres. But as soon as they outnumber the PCs on a given bank, they'll attack, ganging up on the PCs so they can kill and eat them.

To make sure this information is available to the players, you may wish to have one of the ogres grab for the outnumbered PC(s) as soon as the boat begins to leave the shore, so that whoever is rowing has a chance to intervene - if the ogres see them change course, they'll immediately drop what they're doing. In any case, the party will either have to take multiple trips to get all ogres and PCs on the other side of the river, or prepare for a fight.

According to Wikipedia, the missionaries and cannibals problem can be solved in a minimum of 11 moves if there are three missionaries and three cannibals (or husbands and wives, brothers and sisters, masters and valets...you get the idea). In order to add urgency to this encounter, you could have the tides slightly rise after each move - the PCs must solve the puzzle in, say, 20-30 moves (to give them leeway to make mistakes) before the tides become too high to safely cross the river. If this happens, they might be swept away, potentially requiring them to make some rolls to avoid being tossed overboard, or perhaps they'd be washed away to a new location. In my campaign, I had three party members and three ogres. If you have a larger party, you'll need to increase the number of alloted moves.

In my campaign, one of the ogres had a broken arm, preventing him from rowing the boat. This would explain why the ogres couldn't row themselves across, and forces the PCs to man the boat at least once. However, my players used this to surmise that the ogre with the broken arm wouldn't be able to fight them either, and that he wouldn't count toward the number of ogres outnumbering the party since he couldn't pose a threat. This made the puzzle significantly easier, but it was logic I couldn't argue with, so I let them have it.

Since I was using this puzzle in a dungeon, I had a door open once all the PCs and ogres were on the same side of the river. You could have this be operated by a pressure plate that will only open under the combined weight of all PCs and ogres standing on it (note that creatures would not need to be alive in order to meet the required weight). Or you could have a passage or treasure located on a higher ledge that the PCs can only access by climbing on the ogres' shoulders.

The Isle of the Sun

Our gazetteer of the world(s) of The Saga of the Ortegids is pretty much complete. Over the last few months, I've summarized every major region in the first three Dragon Quest games and explored their potential for TRPG scenarios. However, just today I started thinking about one small area I didn't pay any heed to before, but one that just might be more interesting than I thought.

In Dragon Quest III, upon crossing through the Pit of Giaga, you come out on a small island in the western gulf of Alefgard, directly across from Tantegel. This is the only location in this part of the game that has no counterpart in Dragon Quest I, likely because there's no sea travel in that game. On it is a small, unnamed port - there are no shops or inns here, so it's likely a small fishing village rather than a regional trade center. It's really just there to give you access to a ship while in Torland, and for this reason I overlooked it in my discussion of Alefgard.

However, one of the NPCs there asks the party if they've come from "the upper world," which indicates that the people of Torland are familiar with the existence of Erdland. To recap the cosmology I'm using for The Saga of the Ortegids, I have chosen - in part because it provides for more interesting gaming opportunities - to interpret Torland as literally being inside of a hollow Erdland, with the Pit of Giaga being an actual, physical pit connecting the two surfaces. Interestingly, the Western fandom tends to interpret the Pit of Giaga as being a portal and the worlds as separate universes, but the Japanese fandom is more equivocal about it. In any case, for Saga, it's a physical pit - which ties into my next point.

Torland (unlike Erdland) has no consistent day-night cycle and is shown to be in a state of constant night before the Sphere of Light is used for the first time in DQ3. Furthermore, the Dragonlord stealing the Sphere in DQ1 is sometimes said to cause an unending night, depending on what source you're reading (this could be metaphorical, but for me it's not). Under my interpretation, this implies that Torland had no natural light source until the Sphere of Light created one, being the inside of a hollow planet and all. So far, everything is interally consistent.

But then I realized that if the Pit of Giaga physically separates Erdland from Torland, if there's a big hole in the ground in Erdland, there must conversely be a big hole in the sky in Torland. And we do know that Erdland has a sun. Before the Sphere of Light was used, this island below the Pit of Giaga must have been the only place in Torland to receive natural light - that is, what was able to stream through the Pit when the sun was overhead.

Art by Vsevlod Ivanov
(Seriously, check his stuff out)

This likely wouldn't be enough light to illuminate all of Torland on a regular basis, but it would mean that this one island would receive direct sunlight for part of the day. In an otherwise lightless world, this would no doubt have a significant effect on the local culture. Perhaps the locals of this island, even if they know of the existence of an upper world, don't realize how a natural sun really works, and view this light as a divine phenomenon. This would transform the Isle of the Sun, as I've called it, into a natural choice for a holy site, with cults springing up around the light and adherents making pilgrimages to witness it.

With this in mind, perhaps the port we see in DQ3 isn't the only settlement on the island - perhaps there is another city that serves as the center of this sun cult, and we just don't see it in-game because there was nothing useful for gameplay or narrative purposes there. Given the Norse vibes of Torland in general and Alefgard in particular, let's call this city Sollenborg. While ostensibly a subject of the Alefgardic crown, it would be an autonomous power headed by a cult worshiping the sun, with the priesthood holding local positions of authority.

Art by Noah Bradley

In a campaign set in Torland before the events of DQ3, this city could be a curiosity for the party to investigate, or a regional power given its apparent blessed nature. It would also offer another religion to add to the worldbuilding of the setting. Also, one of the easiest ways to kill vampires in a pre-sun Torland. I also find it interesting to think about how even in a magical fantasy world, there would still be perfectly natural phenomena that are misinterpreted as miracles.

I also think it's interesting to consider what might happen to Sollenborg after the events of DQ3. Surely the sun cult would lose quite a bit of its authority with the Sphere of Light providing constant sunlight. This could lead to a crisis of faith for its adherents - and perhaps the more worldly of the cult's authorities, fearful of losing power, might be jealous of what the Sphere provides and covet it for themselves. You could also probably tell an interesting side-story about how the sun cult would handle the Dragonlord's theft of the Sphere. If Alefgard was suddenly deprived of its sunlight, the cult would have something unique to offer the people, who would surely grow desperate in such a time.