Friday Encounter: Rankirk the Luckless

This encounter may come up in a variety of settings; see below.

Background

As long as anyone knows, Rankirk has been plagued by horrible luck. A tradesman in a small village not far from here, he has been afflicted by ill fortune since he was a child, and accidents and mishaps seem to follow him wherever he goes. Some say it was because he was born beneath three new moons, an ill omen; others say that his mother offended the fair folk (if using this encounter in a different setting, feel free to substitute any setting-appropriate rumors to explain his predicament). Whatever the case is, Rankirk is a magnet for misfortune - and if the PCs don't do anything about it, his luck will tag along with them.

The Encounter

When the PCs come across him, Rankirk will be caught up in yet another misadventure brought on by his curse. Roll according to the terrain type this encounter was used in:

Bodies of Water

Rankirk has fallen into the water and has drifted 90 feet out from shore (or from the PC's boat). Enter Action Time and roll initiative when the players discover this. On Rankirk's first turn, he will automatically fall unconscious and begin drowning (roll death saves on each of his turns. If he rolls three successes, start over).

Deserts (d4)

1. Rankirk is lost in the desert and dying of thirst. He will plead with the PCs for water and to be led to the nearest settlement or oasis.

2. Rankirk has fallen into a pit 30 feet deep and is unable to get out.

3. Rankirk is caught in a sandstorm (creatures caught in the sandstorm must make a DC 15 Constitution saving throw or gain the Blinded condition for one round. Creatures failing by 5 or more also take 1d4 slashing damage).

4. Rankirk is pinned beneath a fallen rock. A DC 15 Athletics check, or the appropriate equipment or magic, is required to lift it off of him.  

5. Rankirk is being menaced by 1d6 bandits.

6. Rankirk is being menaced by a giant scorpion.

 Forests (d10)

1. Rankirk is lost. He will plead with the PCs to be led to the nearest settlement.

2. Rankirk has fallen into a pit 30 feet deep and is unable to get out.

3. Rankirk's cart got stuck in a thicket of trees while he was passing through. A DC 15 Athletics check, or the appropriate equipment or magic, is required to get it free.

4. Rankirk is caught in the web of a giant spider. Roll 1d4: on a 4, the spider is also present.

5. Rankirk is pinned beneath a fallen tree. A DC 15 Athletics check, or the appropriate equipment or magic, is required to lift it off of him.

6. Rankirk is being menaced by 3d4 wolves.

7. Rankirk is being menaced by 1d6 orcs.

8. Rankirk is being menaced by a bear.

9. Rankirk is being menaced by a dire boar.

10. Rankirk is being menaced by a dire wolf. 

 Grasslands (d6)

1. Rankirk is lost. He will plead with the PCs to be led to the nearest settlement.

2. Rankirk has fallen into a pit 30 feet deep and is unable to get out.

3. Rankirk's cart got stuck in a patch of deep mud while he was passing through. A DC 15 Athletics check, or the appropriate equipment or magic, is required to get it free.

4. Rankirk is being menaced by 1d6 bandits.

5. Rankirk is being menaced by 1d6 orcs.

6. Rankirk is being menaced by a dire boar.

Mountains (d6)

1. Rankirk is lost. He will plead with the PCs to be led to the nearest settlement.

2. Rankirk has fallen into a pit 30 feet deep and is unable to get out.

3. Rankirk's cart got stuck in a crag while he was passing through. A DC 15 Athletics check, or the appropriate equipment or magic, is required to get it free.

4. Rankirk is pinned beneath a fallen rock. A DC 15 Athletics check, or the appropriate equipment or magic, is required to lift it off of him.

5. Rankirk is being menaced by 1d6 orcs.

6. Rankirk is being menaced by an ogre.

Swamps (d8)

1. Rankirk is lost. He will plead with the PCs to be led to the nearest settlement.

2. Rankirk has fallen into a pit 30 feet deep and is unable to get out.

3. Rankirk's cart got stuck in deep mud while he was passing through. A DC 15 Athletics check, or the appropriate equipment or magic, is required to get it free.

4. Rankirk is stuck in quicksand. Creatures crossing the quicksand must make a DC 12 Athletics or Acrobatics check. If they fail, they sink 1d4+1 feet into the quicksand. Escaping quicksand once one is stuck in it requires a DC 10 Strength check, with 1 added to the DC for each foot the creature has sunk. After escaping, creatures may exit the quicksand on any side.

5. Rankirk is stuck in a sucking bog. Creatures crossing the bog must make a DC 12 Athletics or Acrobatics check and are considered grappled if they fail. They must make a successful check to escape, after which they may exit the bog on any side.

6. Rankirk is being menaced by 2d6 goblins.

7. Rankirk is being menaced by a giant poisonous snake.

8. Rankirk is being menaced by a giant constrictor snake.

Tundra (d8)

1. Rankirk is lost and freezing to death. He will plead with the PCs to be led to the nearest settlement, or to be provided with warmth (such as from a fire or warm clothes).

2. Rankirk has fallen into a pit 30 feet deep and is unable to get out.

3. Rankirk's cart got stuck in deep snow while he was passing through. A DC 15 Athletics check, or the appropriate equipment or magic, is required to get it free.

4. Rankirk is pinned beneath a fallen rock or tree. A DC 15 Athletics check, or the appropriate equipment or magic, is required to lift it off of him.

5. Rankirk is being menaced by 3d4 wolves.

6. Rankirk is being menaced by 1d4 bugbears.

7. Rankirk is being menaced by a winter wolf.

8. Rankirk is being menaced by a rhemoraz.

Urban Areas (d4)

1. Rankirk is lost. He will plead with the PCs to be led out of the settlement, or to an inn on the other side of town (he knows where to go from there).

2. Rankirk has just had his pocket picked by a thief, and he pleads with the PCs to track it down. His coinpurse contains 3d10 GP - somehow, he has come into the possession of wealth, but it doesn't seem to have helped him for long.

3. Rankirk is being menaced by 1d4 thugs. They have not opened violence, but are threatening him into a protection racket he can't possibly afford.

4. Rankirk is being menaced by 1d4 thugs, who are in the midst of beating him up.

 Underground (d10)

1. Rankirk is lost. He will plead with the PCs to be led to the nearest settlement. He doesn't want to explain how in the world he ended up here.

2. Rankirk has fallen into a pit 30 feet deep and is unable to get out.

3. Rankirk is caught in the web of a giant spider. Roll 1d4: on a 4, the spider is also present.

4. Rankirk has been stuffed in a barrel by a troll who wishes to eat him. Roll 1d4: on a 4, the troll is also present.

5. Rankirk is pinned beneath a fallen rock or stalactite. A DC 15 Athletics check, or the appropriate equipment or magic, is required to lift it off of him.

6. Rankirk is dangerously close to a pit of green slime.

7. Rankirk is dangerously close to a shrieker and will alert it if left to his own devices.

8. Rankirk is being menaced by 2d6 goblins.

9. Rankirk is being menaced by 1d6 orcs.

10. Rankirk is being menaced by a hook horror.

Rankirk has the stats of a scout. However, he has Disadvantage on all attack rolls and skill checks. Additionally, he must reroll any natural 20s he rolls on any roll.

If the PCs free Rankirk from his plight, he will introduce himself and mention that he keeps getting into situations like these. He will proclaim that he is eternally in debt to such a selfless act of heroism, and will attempt to accompany the PCs as long as he is allowed to. However, there are (naturally) complications with having to escort someone so unlucky - whatever happens to him will drag those around him into it too.

• While traveling with the PCs, the party will be more likely to attract random encounters (implement this according to however you determine encounters - for instance, if your table rolls a d20 for random encounters at specific intervals and an encounter happens on a 18 or higher, one will happen on a 17 or higher as long as Rankirk accompanies them).
• If a random encounter that does not present an immediate or likely danger to the party (eg. hostile monsters or adverse weather conditions) is rolled, reroll that encounter once and take the second result.
• If the PCs would discover magic items while Rankirk is traveling with them, there is a 50% chance that the item is replaced by a randomly determined cursed item of equivalent rarity.

Although Rankirk means well and wishes to honor his saviors, he is rather clueless and will attempt to run headlong into danger no matter what risk it may pose him, and will face any potential enemies with bluster and aggression. If the PCs attempt to separate from him in the wilderness or in an unfamiliar area, he will protest that it is too dangerous. If the PCs lead him to his hometown, he will be willing to stay there, though he will be disappointed about it.

For extra fun, feel free to use this encounter more than once in a given campaign.

The Magic of Rituals

I've found that it's hard to hit a sweet spot when it comes to designing magic systems for games. In many cases, setting rules and mechanics to what sorts of spells and magical effects can be used and how they work makes sense for the purposes of gameplay, but on the flip side, making magic follow too many rules can make it feel less...well, magical.

To me, the defining feature of magic is that it can't be explained by science. It's wondrous and exotic and strange, and the more rules are attached to it, the less magical it becomes. I find that, per rules as written, magic in D&D runs the risk of falling into mundanity if players are too accustomed to thinking of their spells as reliable tools they can fall back on. This is especially bad if you treat things like spell slots and discrete and identifiable spells as diagetic representations of how magic actually works from an in-universe perspective. It worked for Jack Vance, sure, but to me, a wizard who talks about how many spell slots he has left per day is only one step away from a Jedi throwing around his midichlorian count, and nobody wants that.

I prefer to think of magic systems in games as a way of streamlining the abstract. Magic doesn't really work exactly the way it does in the game rules; that's just a way to represent the complicated business of manipulating the fabric of reality itself. Spells taken from a list are just the sort of tricks and enchantments a particular magician has mastered and knows how to reliably perform, and spell slots are just a representation of how much mental stamina one can call upon before needing time to rest. However, all that is is reflavoring things, and that doesn't really fix the problem of magic being too defined and mechanical. I do like the 5e Sorcerer's metamagic abilities, which make magic more fluid, multifaceted, and customizable, implying there isn't a finite list of magical effects that can be achieved. And there is a part of me that's contemplated rewriting the magic system entirely to something more like Ars Magica, as some bloggers have done - but I'm not quite that insane.

But what if magic was divorced from game mechanics entirely?

The Book of Ebon Bindings is a fascinating book. Published in 1978 as part of the Empire of the Petal Throne line, it's one of the first third-party supplements for D&D. It's also one of the first system-neutral RPG materials. The book is a collection of spells revolving around summoning and controlling demons. But none of it is in the form of game rules.

That's because The Book of Ebon Bindings is written entirely in the form of an in-universe grimoire, putting it somewhere between a rulebook and a literary hoax. In order to transport yourself to another location, you don't expend a 4th-level spell slot with material, somatic, and verbal components. You have to make a circle of white ashes, draw the Symbol of the Rising Planet and write the Name of Tsu'untla in red chalk, erect a pedestal on which is placed a box of black wood, a round censer, a dagger of iron that has never tasted blood, and a wax candle, and release a drop of blood from your finger at each step taken around the circle to summon Lord Ge'en, the Eater of All. In order to cast the spell, the PCs have to go out into the world and do that stuff.

The dedication on display in Ebon Bindings is truly impressive - there's absolutely nothing that indicates it's a work of fiction or intended for gameplay; even the introduction is written as though by a translator explaining the choices they made rather than by a game designer describing its utility at the table. You could put it next to the Key of Solomon and someone unfamiliar with Empire of the Petal Throne would think that the two works belong to the same genre.

It's a fascinating concept for a book, and one I'm surprised we don't see more of. I'm amazed that something like this somehow went completely unnoticed during the Satanic Panic, and I respect the sheer audacity it must've took to publish something of the sort. But it also highlights how rituals are ripe for possibilities with gameplay.

If the PCs have to perform a ritual, it comes with its own quest hooks, necessitating that they gather the components before they can even cast the spell at all, and some of those might require expeditions of their own. Alternatively, there can be a level of resource management in keeping the components for a ritual at hand, and what might be available to the PCs might limit what options are available for spellcasting. Even determining what needs to be done for the ritual itself could be a quest, entailing poring over tomes of lost arcane knowledge and having to decode their text. The consequences of failing a ritual, or making a mistake in one step or another, could create more problems for the players. If enemy casters must perform rituals as well, it gives the PCs the chance to interfere in their efforts and stop a powerful spell from being cast before it's too late. And, above all, it restores the mystic, unknowable qualities of magic and makes those front and center in gameplay.

There's plenty of spells in 5e that can be cast as rituals. Perhaps, if a DM wants to encourage players to use rituals, they could remove the option to cast these spells on the fly, forcing players to think in terms of having the time and materials to set up the spell they want to cast. It would likely impact the pace of a campaign; rituals take time, and setting them up would take even more time, so magic-users wouldn't be able to act as quickly. I personally feel like using a mix of immediately castable spells and rituals that require a longer period of preparation (particularly for more powerful spells) is the right middle ground to circumvent this, but I suppose a DM and a group that's prepared for the challenge could run a campaign where all magic is done through rituals.

But an added benefit of using the narrative to determine if, how, and when a spell can be cast means you're not bound by game mechanics. If there's no numbers, stats, or tags associated with casting a spell, you can get them from all kinds of sources, whether they were designed for the edition you're playing or not. You can use narrative rituals from any game in any system, or even from sources outside of roleplaying games. See a neat ritual in a movie? Your PCs can cast it - all they need are the right components and the right actions.

You can even go straight to the source and have players go through the steps of setting up rituals from actual historical grimoires. Because these sorts of things tend to have fallen into the public domain, you can find plenty of texts online that can be pilfered from, and in each you'll find plenty of spells that you can have your PCs do just by performing in-universe actions. If your players want to learn who has stolen a certain object, have them suspend a sieve from a rope that was used to hang a man, spin it around a brass basin filled with water while stirring it with a laurel twig in the opposite direction, and recite the right incantations until the culprit's face appears in the water. If it worked for 14th century Italians, it'll work for your party.

It seems like such a simple solution to the problem of magic you would expect it to be proposed more often. In fact, this sort of thing was being done for almost as long as RPGs as we know them were a thing. When it comes to devising a magic system that feels more magical without throwing too many new rules at the players for them to understand, you can't go wrong with rituals - especially when you can get plenty of adventure out of them in the process.

Friday Encounter: the Shrine of Meili

This encounter should take place while the PCs are traveling a road.

At the side of the road, the PCs discover a large stone that has been carved with a niche, in which stands the figure of a man wearing a cloak and a wide-brimmed hat and carrying a walking stick. If the road is a well-traveled one, the stone is surrounded with candles at varying heights, piled on the surrounding rocks; there also a few coins piled up at the base of the stone totaling 2d10 GP. If the road is less well-traveled, there are no candles or coins, and the stone is overgrown with moss, but the image is still clearly visible.

A DC 10 Religion check (DC 12 if the stone is overgrown) will determine this is a shrine of Meili, the god of roads and travelers. Clerics, paladins, and any character with the Acolyte background will recognize this automatically. Meili is known as a protector of all those who wander the roads, and his favor will protect and guide those who appease him - but he has been known to send travelers astray and lead them to their doom if he is offended.

Any PC that leaves an offering valued at 1 GP or more before the shrine will receive the blessings of Meili:

• The next time the party would roll for a random encounter, if they would receive any random encounters that would present an immediate or likely danger to the PCs (such as aggressive monsters or adverse weather conditions), reroll the results until an encounter that would likely be favorable for the PCs (such as treasure or clues, or simply an uneventful trip) is obtained instead.
• In addition, if the PCs make camp by the shrine, they will receive no random encounters during the night.
• If you are using Gritty Realism rules (that is, eight-hour short rests and one-week long rests), PCs (not parties) that made offerings will receive the benefits of a long rest from a short rest the next time they make camp by the shrine.

However, PCs who damage or abuse the shrine, or take any offerings that may be present, will instead attract Meili's wrath:

• The next time the party would roll for a random encounter, an encounter will always be obtained. If it is one that does not present an immediate or likely danger to the PCs, reroll the results.
• If the PCs make camp by the shrine, they will automatically obtain an encounter that will present an immediate or likely danger during the night. Determine which watch it occurs on randomly.

Each shrine can be used any number of times. You may wish to mark the hex or point this encounter was obtained on, if using such mapping schemes, in case the players want to return to the shrine.

Friday Encounter: The Sonderlunding Swordsman

So it turns out that talking about anime gets a lot of eyes on my blog. Whoever posted my last article to the OSR subreddit, I have no idea who you are, but thank you - I really am happy to have the readership I do, but I can never complain about anything that means my work reaches more DMs out there who might benefit from it. With more attention on the blog, I figure now is as good a time as any to kick off a feature I've been considering for a while.

I've always been a fan of quick, characterful encounters to liven up a session - incidents that might not necessarily be an epic battle or the spark of a quest, but that help make the game world a living, breathing place and provide the PCs with resources, information, and material to make interesting decisions about. If they can be approached in multiple different ways, so much more the better. These encounters might not necessarily be the crux of an entire session, but they can be memorable, and they can open the doors to new options for the players or even expand into adventures of their own.

I've seen a couple of blogs now that present encounters as a regular feature, and I figured I might as well shamelessly rip off the format. My aim is that every week, I'll present a short encounter on the blog, one that can be slotted into most campaigns. Feel free to use these as you wish. For the most part, I'll be writing under the assumptions of my setting - don't be afraid to change names, details, and descriptions to better suit your table.

The Sonderlunding Swordsman

Background

This encounter should take place when the PCs are on a modestly well-traveled road. As they come to a bridge high above a river, they find the path blocked by a sturdy, long-bearded man dressed in furs and tartans, leaning against a wicked-looking claymore.

The man introduces himself as Fergus MacConnell, a warrior of Sonderlund - or at least, he was. The Sonderlunding Highlanders are known for their fierce honor culture, and by the standards of his culture, Fergus has committed a grave crime - in a drunken brawl that got out of hand, he slew another man of a family his was honor-bound to protect ever since their ancestors made a pact on the battlefield generations ago. The Sonderlundings take ancestral pacts and oaths very seriously, and as an oathbreaker, Fergus was exiled from his homelands. Now, he seeks the only redemption that his lot deserves - a glorious death in battle against a well-matched foe.

The problem is, Fergus is very lucky by most standards, but very unlucky by his own. He's come a long way from home in search of greater challenges, and every enemy he's faced since has been no match for his blade. His journeys have brought him to this particular bridge, where, according to the customs of pas d'armes, he has the right to challenge any other travelers to a duel. Perhaps one he encounters along the road will grant him the warrior's end he seeks.

A note: To run home the point of Fergus's plight, it will be most effective if he is encountered where such sights are not commonplace - he's had to go a long way, after all, and his appearance should be unusual for the area. I would not run this encounter in Sonderlund, for instance. If you had a culture of honorable warriors in your setting, you can reflavor this encounter to fit them, but it's best to use it in an area far from the homelands of this culture.

The Encounter

If there is anyone in the party who looks to be a capable warrior and is not obviously hurt or harried, Fergus will challenge them to a duel to the death. He wants this to be a fair fight - if his would-be opponent is clad in anything heavier than chainmail or obviously displays magical powers, he will let them pass unharried (there would be no honor in losing to a foe one never stood a chance against in the first place!), and he insists on one-on-one combat; however, he could be talked into taking on the whole party if there is no one particular opponent who looks to be a clear threat. If the party obviously contains a necromancer (a practice highly taboo among the ancestor-worshiping Highlanders), Fergus will refuse to even entertain the offer of a duel, considering the entire party tainted by their presence.

If Fergus's chosen opponent refuses, he will taunt them about their honor, insisting that they are too cowardly to face such a foe as he, and boasting of his own accomplishments all the while (he struck down three brigands at once! He fell a mad lindwurm!). He will take great offense if his deeds are called into question, and may even start the fight himself if the PCs continue to antagonize him. But if his opponents truly refuse the duel after all his prompting, he will let them go on their way. He wants this to be an honorable fight, after all.

However, if Fergus learns of the location of an even worthier opponent than the PCs - for instance, if they know where he can find an NPC who might be agreeable to the challenge (at least in theory), or if they are seeking a fierce monster, Fergus will accompany the party as long as it takes them to reach such a foe. He will join them in any combats, but if the desired threat is encountered, he will insist on facing it one-on-one until one of them die.

In 5e terms, Fergus uses the stats of a Berserker. However, he has discovered two magical treasures on his journeys:

• His sword is enchanted. It functions as a +1 greatsword (so his attacks are made with a +6 to hit and do 1d12+4 slashing damage), and its blade is inlaid with a runic inscription. A DC 13 History or Arcana check, or a PC with knowledge of classical arcane languages, can determine that the inscription reads "I call on thee, Unquenchable Torch."
• Once per day, if recited aloud, this inscription causes the blade to glow for 1d4 hours, providing all the benefits of a Light spell. The glow will not end by any means other than the duration expiring. If it attracts undue attention, the PCs cannot do anything more than try to keep the light covered.
• Fergus obtained this sword from a giant who failed to match his challenge before, and is familiar with its properties.
• Fergus wears a golden brooch pinned to his cloak in the shape of a bird in flight, with emeralds set into its eyes. It is worth 300 GP, but unbeknownst to Fergus, it too is inlaid with a runic inscription. The inscription is engraved in miniscule text (a DC 20 Perception or Investigation check, or the use of a magnifying glass, is needed to discover its presence), and a DC 13 History or Arcana check, or a PC with knowledge of Elvish, can determine that the inscription reads "I need your eyes to see for me."
• The brooch requires attunement. Once every two days, if recited aloud, this inscription causes the brooch to turn into a living finch that obeys the attuned user's commands, can communicate with them telepathically, and can be used to see and hear through as a familiar summoned by the Find Familiar spell. At will, it can be returned to the form of the brooch. The finch otherwise has the stats of a Raven. If it is killed, it turns back into the brooch, but the emeralds in its eyes have turned black and it can no longer be summoned.
• Fergus was given the brooch as a gift from an elven maiden he saved from a wild beast. He does not know its properties and believes it to be no different than an ordinary brooch.

Fergus will insist on fighting the duel on the bridge. The bridge is ten feet across and sixty feet from end to end, and is 120 feet above the river below. The bridge has the Ledge tag (see here; creatures performing a Shove action that would knock a creature off a ledge gain +2 to their attack roll. Fergus won't use this tactic, as he considers it dishonorable).

At the far end of the bridge, Fergus has set a small campsite with a tent and a fire pit to allow protection from the elements. His tent contains a simple bedroll, his personal belongings, and 35 GP.

And Now For Something Completely Different: Why Madoka Magica is OSR

I swear I haven't lost my mind! Come back!

I don't just post about learned and erudite things like history and medieval folklore on this blog, you know. Yes, I watch anime. Call me cringe all you want, but let's not deny that at the end of the day, the world of RPGs owes just as much to pop culture as it does to "serious" literary tradition. Anything can be a font of inspiration to make our games, and our lives, a little richer. And today, I'd like to explore one such example.

Besides, if you were really paying attention, you'd know I already dropped a few in-jokes to the subject of today's post back in one of my first posts on this blog. Purely because it referenced the same Germanic traditions I did. That's just what I do. Like some sort of enigmatic trickster god, my players never know if I'm referencing some obscure 13th century epic poem or some internet meme. You might not know either.

Anyway, today I'm going to talk about the anime series Puella Magi Madoka Magica. What makes the series notable for me is that it was the first anime - really, one of the first TV series in general - that I actively followed as it was being released (as it was being released in Japan, no less). It debuted in early 2011, while I was in high school, and I happened to become aware of it when it was freshly three episodes in (if you were there, you know). I proceeded to follow new episodes as they released week to week, and that was a kind of experience I had never really had before. Or, really, since, given the changing landscape of streaming and whole series dropping at once.

Rewatching it a few years back, I don't think Madoka Magica is a perfect series. I wouldn't even call it a great series. It settles for being merely good, but not without its flaws, and they only grow more apparent with age. The pace vacillates between being agonizingly slow and breakneck fast, but rarely settles on a comfortable middle ground. So many characters are frustratingly underdeveloped, and I've come to see the effective protagonist - one of the few who isn't - as the kind of person I would probably punch in the face if we were locked in a room together for long enough. The Watsonian lore and the Doylist themes of the show both raise all kinds of fascinating ideas and implications that feel like something could be done with them, but they never are. The individualist philosophy the series takes on the question of self-sacrifice never sat well with my utilitarian socialist self, and in light of the sequel movie (which split the fanbase in two - I'm solidly on the "it sucked" side of that rift), there's an unpleasant undertone of Objectivism that I can't help but pick up on whether intentional or otherwise. But there's something that makes the series hold a place in my heart.

And I suspect that something may just be how the setting seems to resonate so well with the ideas of a tabletop RPG - particularly one of the Old School ethos.

In the rest of this post, I'm going to give a rundown of Madoka Magica lore with a focus as to what aspects of it are gameable, and summarize how they abide by OSR principles. If you're already familiar with the series, you can probably skip this next part (though I recommend you at least give it a look because there's some things that never actually happen in the series but are totally missed opportunities, and you may not even know about them). If you aren't, please be aware that this discussion will contain spoilers if that matters at all to you - but for what it's worth, I wouldn't have gotten into the series at all if I didn't have it spoiled for me back then.

More under the cut.

Random Encounters From Your Miniature Drawer

I've always had somewhat of an off-and-on passion when it comes to miniatures. I've never really used them for my games - collecting and painting miniatures is an awful lot of setup, especially when you factor terrain and scenery into the equation, and (to riff on my last post) I fear that visual representations on the gaming table can influence the imaginations of my players more than I would like. Couple that with the fact that my regular gaming group is spread over multiple states and I handle everything over Skype chats anyway, I find it easier and more streamlined to just go with the theater of the mind.

At the same time, I've always liked the little bastards. Just to have them, and paint them, and to look at them for their own sake. Maybe even play a skirmish wargame once in a while. They aren't (or at least shouldn't be) necessary, but minis are fun.

Since moving into my new house, I've been getting everything unpacked and reassessing what I have. That includes going through my old, mostly unpainted collection of minis I've had for years, always hoping to do something with but never really getting there. I've been looking more into games like Planet 28 lately, so I figured it wouldn't hurt to sort through my collection and see what I could make of them.

What immediately struck me was that, when I was at my peak of miniature collecting, I was very much the kind of person who collected things I thought were cool, rather than trying to build a certain army.

There's a lot of Reaper fantasy monsters, mixed in with some Warhammer Fantasy monstrous types, and even a few packs of the old Chainmail range from when Wizards of the Coast briefly wanted to get into the metal miniature business. An ogre, a dire boar, plenty of lizardmen (of various sizes), a bunch of orcs, quite a few skeletons and ghosts, a handful of Skaven, some barbarians...

Wait a minute. I'm sensing a pattern here. Maybe I can't make a cohesive army, but I do have a pretty decent random encounter table. Let's throw some of those things together, and see if I can write a dungeon around it.

1d20:

1. Dire boar

2. 1d8 orcs 

3. 1d8 kobolds

4. Ogre

5. 1d2 myconids

6. 1d2 Rat Men 

7. 1d8 goblins

8. 1d6 mummies

9. 2d8 spiders

10. 1d4-1 (minimum 1) lizardmen

11. 1d8 skeletons

12. 1d4 specters

13. Vampire

14. 1d4 wolves

15. Werewolf

16. 1d4 berserkers

17. Dragon (I haven't painted it yet. Let's say a red one)

18. 1d2 trolls

19. Death knight

20. Earth elemental 

I also think the reason I like the myconids in Dark Souls so much
is because they remind me of these old Reaper ones.

Yeah, it probably looks pretty funhouse-ish right now, doesn't it? And quite unbalanced, but remember: not all random encounters need to lead to immediate combat. But that's where we start thinking about how we could make everything fit. And as we do, the seed of an entire dungeon starts to emerge.

Right now, there's two big themes I'm starting to realize with the monsters we're using. There's a lot of undead, and a lot of reptilian creatures (with the dragon, lizardmen, and kobolds). These could easily be grouped into their own factions. The vampire and the dragon sound like natural leaders for the two groups (the death knight could be a second in command to the vampire, or vice versa), and that raises the question of what they're doing in the same dungeon.

Maybe the vampire has set up a lair for his necromantic experiments, and it just so happened to be in a cavern already inhabited by the dragon. Perhaps he's trying to manipulate the dragon and his lizardman servants to his own ends, and to serve as extra muscle to keep out those pesky intruders who are getting suspicious as to who's taking all the dead bodies. Maybe he has some magic artifact or other precious treasure that he's bribing the dragon with, knowing the creature's greed. This way, smart players could exploit the factions by pitting them against each other - maybe they'll need to steal the treasure from the vampire to sway the dragon to their side! After all, those lizardmen could be useful allies, to say nothing of the dragon himself!

There's some other entries we could group into smaller factions too. The orcs, goblins, and maybe the ogre all seem like they could be allies. Maybe it's an independent tribe of Trollkin, or maybe it's more hired muscle being used by the vampire (which could make them jealous of the lizardmen if they feel they're being replaced - something that the players could win their allegiance over if they don't side with the dragon, since they probably will have a harder time doing that with skeletons). The dire boar could be a pet of the orcs, or just an independent monster. The myconids, spiders, Rat Men, trolls, and earth elemental would all most likely be random denizens of the dungeon. As for the berserkers, wolves, and werewolf, they could be independent too - but what sounds more fun to me is the thought that maybe this is a clan of wolf-worshiping barbarians, led by a werewolf! Maybe they're visiting a shrine somewhere in the dungeon, or raiding it for its riches or as a sort of initation ritual!

As you can see, there's a ton of ways that this seemingly random collection of creatures and characters can be made into something more cohesive. And like many instances of working within constraints, it can get the creative juices flowing to be given a set of incoherent, mismatched elements and to be forced to make them work. Already, I have the start of a dungeon that could last me plenty of sessions to come. And if I was the kind of person to use minis, I wouldn't even need to buy anything new for it!

I'd love to see other people try this exercise out. It's a great way to come up with dungeons and other scenarios that you might never have considered otherwise. Do you have a bunch of random miniatures laying around? Try making a random encounter table out of them, and let me know what you come up with!

Visions of Tolkien's World

If you're active in the geekosphere, you may know about the upcoming Magic: the Gathering set based on The Lord of the Rings. What I take away from this is that the way Wizards of the Coast handles the lore of its two flagship properties is almost diametrically opposed, with D&D so locked down with the lore of just one setting out of the infinite potential of the creativity of DMs the world over, while the folks over at MTG embrace the opportunity to cross over with everything they can get their hands on, no matter how fitting - but that's not the subject of this post.

It do be like this though.

You may have heard the controversy over the set depicting Aragorn (and a few other characters, but he's
the most visible) as a black man. You can weigh in on whether or not it's fitting of the lore, or whether or not it's representative of tokenism, all you want. Actually, don't, I don't want my comments section to turn into a minefield. But that isn't what I'm here to talk about either. I don't have any strong feelings one way or the other about Aragorn being black. But it does excite me. What I do care about is how this represents a rare exploration into the potential for more diverse depictions of Middle-Earth and of Tolkien's stories than what we're used to.

I, of course, refer to the fact that they're not making everything look like the movies.

...what? What did you think I was talking about?

All jokes aside, I welcome the fact that the artists over at Wizards are putting their own spin on Tolkien's world. If you take a look at Tolkien art, you'll notice a very noticeable shift around the early 2000s, right when the Peter Jackson movies hit theaters and became smash hits. After this, everyone uses the movies as their template of what Middle-Earth is "supposed" to look like. Color palettes are drab and mostly shades of brown. Elves wear gold armor with elaborate, leaf-like designs. The Uruk-Hai use equipment with an industrial, almost brutalist feel. Hobbits have curly hair and dreamy boy-band looks. There's lots of open plains. Aragorn looks like Viggo Mortensen.

Which of these is concept art from the movies?
Trick question: none of them are.

Before this, though? There was no established "look" for Middle-Earth. Every artist was free to intepret the world in their own way, and we saw some really creative interpretations. Take a look:

There's of course the famous art of the Hildebrandt Brothers, which defined Tolkien in the eyes of many before the movies thanks to their popular series of calendars.

The genesis of pig-faced orcs?

Give Gimli his hat back.

Or how about the work of Ted Nasmith, whose lush, detailed landscapes paint the sort of vistas I can only hope to portray as a DM?

Famed Conan illustrator Frank Frazetta did a lesser-known series of Tolkien artwork that brings a pulp feel to the story.

Not sure how effective Eowyn's disguise is, though

The Rankin-Bass adaptation of The Hobbit probably comes the closest to my childhood mental image of Gollum.

And their depiction of the elves of Mirkwood can't be farther from Jackson's.

Foreign editions bring their own interpretations to the table, like this Finnish version of Gollum.

And this Russian Gandalf has a folksy, almost medieval-tapestry feel.

Would anyone today portray Boromir as a Viking, as seen in the Ralph Bakshi film?

What about a flippin' samurai? Because that's what the Finnish television series Hobbits did.

Hell, even the art straight from Tolkien himself seems refreshingly different to modern eyes.

I'm glad that Wizards is willing to experiment and go against the grain, not because I'm any fan of identity politics, but because a world where we only have one flavor of Middle-Earth is boring. Or one flavor of anything, really. As popular as the Jackson movies are, they're just one of a handful of adaptations, and one of even more personal interpretations of what was described in the text. And artists shouldn't be afraid, consciously or unconsciously, to share their visions because they're not the definitive look - they shouldn't even believe there is a definitive look to begin with. There should always be room for creativity, and the popularity of adaptations that came before shouldn't stifle that.

It's the same reason why, when running published modules, I never show my players any illustrations. The world and the characters is theirs and theirs alone to imagine, and I don't want to color that with any other interpretation. The players' mental image probably doesn't look anything like what's in my head. And that's a good thing.