Orctober!

It's October, and you all know what that means. No, I'm not talking about Halloween - though I have no shortage of love for the harvest season, the changing of the leaves, and of course the celebration of all things spooky. No, this also happens to be the time the old-school gaming blogosphere gets passionate about orcs.

Orctober started out as a tradition in the Oldhammer community, with blogs devoting the month to painting all manner of orcs (and orks) from the glory days of 80s Games Workshop. My current work situation makes it rather unlikely I'll have much time to devote to collecting and painting miniatures - but my homebrew setting of the Lunar Lands is in large part a love letter to the British old school fantasy gaming world (something I posited the existence of as a distinct phenomenon in this Reddit post and which was consequently elaborated on most wonderfully by Uncaring Cosmos), and you can trace just about everything produced in that milieu to Rick Priestly (my previous post on familiars was basically an excuse to stat up all the old-school Chaos Familiar miniatures - yes, I'm coming clean about that now!). To that end, I figured I might as well celebrate Orctober in the best way I can - by describing how I handle orcs in my games and my setting.

Fighting Fantasy

As far as anyone has known, as long as there has been man, there have been orcs. Various legends speak of their origins - some say they were originally humans cursed to become beasts in punishment for their relentless bloodlust; others say they were spawned from the spilled blood of demons, and still more say they were beasts that became intelligent by drinking dragons' blood. The orcs themselves scoff at such silly tales - in fact, they have just as many such stories about humans. But regardless of where they came from, they have come to spread across the lands, and their tribes and villages can be found just about anywhere.

Orcs come in all shapes and sizes; their phenotypic variety has more in common with that of dogs than humans. Some are green, others grey; some have faces like pigs, and others like apes; some have
horns, some have tusks - and everything imaginable in between is possible. The creatures sometimes referred to as goblins, bugbears, and hobgoblins are really just different strains of orc, and while some clans are relatively standard in appearance, there are some villages where all these types can be found living alongside one another.

Art by Jerry Boucher

Some scholars have used the term trollkin to include common orcs, goblins, and their respective variations, though this itself is a misnomer as these races do not seem to be related to trolls. Once again, the orcs would just laugh at our foolish obsession with splitting hairs. To them, an uruk is an uruk, or a bigger, smaller, or hairier uruk if the distinction is truly necessary. What to call them means nothing, only their strength.

Orcish cultures vary as much as their appearances, and every tribe practices its own customs - observances that are known around every fire pit and mead hall in some villages would only net blank stares at others. However, a common feature is the value placed upon strength and valor in battle. The most powerful orcs in society are not necessarily the best talkers, or the most learned, but those who are simply strong enough to beat down any dissenting voices. Orcs are well known to raid human villages, not only for food and wealth, but also as an opportunity for the youth to prove their skills and gain clout among their kinsmen through impressing others with their deeds, and duels are a favored way of settling disputes.

This is not to say that orcs are without honor. Quite the opposite, in fact. An orc who has brought down a worthy foe in battle, bearing the scars to prove it, is an accomplished warrior worthy of respect and riches. An orc who has never had his blood spilled because all of his victories have been against unarmed children and the old and infirm is a coward, and would be mocked and shunned by his peers. Taking down lesser foes in the name of honor is, while not exactly considered criminal, frowned upon - not for any moral reasons so much as because it's too easy. That does not preclude orcs from preying upon the weak for more material reasons than social status - pillaging a defenseless village to make off with its gold and livestock is considered no different than hunting game, as long as no one brags about it. Attempting to assign human society's ideas of morality to orcs is, in short, going to be a headache.

On the flip side, the orcs' sense of honor and deference to the pecking order can be exploited. Many an enterprising warlord has assembled an army or a garrison force made up of orcs because they are easily swayed by great deeds of arms, and can be convinced to fall in line under the command of a warrior stronger than they are - though as some of these would-be tyrants have learned, it would be a fatal mistake to assume that they do not care about being paid, or that they would not turn against their masters if they saw the opportunity to do so. Even one who fights orcs may gain their respect in battle - there are many such ballads concerning orcs that become brothers-in-arms with humans when they came to recognize them as equals in strength and bravery.

Types of Orcs

Although every orc tribe is different, their societies can be grouped into a number of distinct cultures that follow similar patterns. It is possible these arose from common ancestors, trade and exchange of ideas between tribes, or a combination of both.

Art by Keith Parkinson

Horse Orcs, or Plains Orcs, are the most numerous, and most infamous, of those in the Lunar Lands. Semi-nomadic in nature, they often set up villages to house their people and graze their animals in grasslands, trading and raiding with whatever neighbors they may have, until their resources run dry and they move on to the next appropriate site. As their name suggests, they raise, breed, and train horses, which they respect for their strength and mobility. Although a typical orcish horse is more comparable to a draft breed, their agility still makes them useful for cavalry charges and migrations alike. Horse Orcs also favor archery, thanks to the far lines of sight provided by the plains. An army of mounted orcs firing arrows from horseback is a terrifying sight indeed.

Aside from war, these orcs also use horses for sport, competing to prove their valor in races and in a peculiar sport involving carrying a dead goat, often liberated from a nearby village as a token of victory, to a goal while being pursued by other riders. Sometimes these games can turn violent - there is a well-attested account of a war between two orcish clans that broke out when the goat split in half during a game, and no one could decide whether the larger part or the part containing the head should count for scoring purposes.

It was an enterprising chieftain among the Horse Orcs that formed the greatest empire orc-kind has ever known, uniting the clans into conquering much of Togarmah in its heyday before being brought down in the series of conflicts known as the Orc Wars.

Down in the Dungeon

Iron Orcs include many of the most technologically sophisticated tribes among their numbers. While other orcs obtain arms and armor either through pillage, cobbling of scrap, or rudimentary blacksmithing, the Iron Orcs are known for their metallurgy, with some even mastering the art of steel. They tend to be more settled than other cultures, owing to their dependence on steady sources of raw materials, and often favor easily defensible locations in mountains to make their homes and house their smoke-belching forges. Some have even formed enduring trade deals with dwarven holds, though it is arguable how much of this is because of mutual benefit and how much is because it is easier to trade with Iron Orcs than to defend a mountain against them. Their armies tend to be more regimented than those of other tribes, and are well-equipped with armor, swords, pikes, and in some cases even war machines.

Art by Verminard

Northborn Orcs are among the largest and burliest of all orcs (use the stats of a bugbear for a common specimen), with many possessing thick coats of fur to provide warmth in the cold regions they inhabit. Because these lands are often poor of soil and scarce in resources, they also tend to be some of the fiercest, something that serves them well in their squabbles over valuable food and territory.

Much like the Northmen, some that dwell on the coasts have taken to building great ships and raiding more temperate areas for gold and supplies. Due to their fearsome fighters and the inhospitable climates they call home, the clans of the Northborn Orcs have only rarely been conquered by their enemies - something they take with pride - and they hold sway over some of the most powerful orcish polities.

Art by John Howe

Cave Orcs encompass all orcs that dwell beneath the ground.
Some do so out of necessity, shunned by their neighbors (orcish or otherwise) and forming their own societies in the wilds, while others favor caves for the strategic opportunities they offer in defense, and still others have delved so far underground as to establish a homeland in the World Beneath. Due to the cramped conditions of their underground homes, these orcs tend to be smaller in stature, if not stooped or stunted, and are most likely to be of the varieties termed goblins - though this is not to say that they can't grow to greater sizes. Tales even speak of eyeless, pallid creatures in the darkest depths where light cannot reach, with some questioning if they can even still be considered orcs at all.

Like Northborn Orcs, Cave Orcs have a hardscrabble life - though some have managed to farm mushrooms and fungi for sustenance, others, particularly those closer to the surface, are more inclined to raid for their resources. Stone tools and weapons are not uncommon among them, and they are well adapted to see in darkness, though some, consequently, may be less adapted to light.

Fighting Fantasy

Civilized Orcs are a point of controversy. Some scholars would argue that such a term is oxymoronic - and some orcs would take offense at the implication they are uncivilized (or that the life their more settled cousins have taken part in is at all comparable to the soft and hypocritical ways of humankind, for that matter). Nevertheless, some of the more larger and cosmopolitan cities of the land have their fair share of orcish inhabitants - be they descended from trading partners who decided to settle, orcs who saw opportunity among the urban setting, or any other reasons they may have. Other times, a fief on the frontier may decide that the nearby orcs make better allies than threats, and over time they may intermix.

With the decree of Matriarch Wilmarina I of Lescatie that orcs do indeed have souls and can carry the favor of the gods, this level of integration has become more common, though there are still those who oppose it. It also varies from place to place - many cities, either by official proclamation or by patterns of settlement over time, boast an Orcish Quarter that functions as a community of its own, while in others, seeing a goblin at the seat beside you in the tavern won't even cause the locals to bat an eye. There are some orcs that have fully adopted local customs, but others still hold ties to their tribal honor pacts, and this often leaves the local magistrates to arbitrate disputes when matters of law run into conflict with the warrior code.

I'm Not Familiar

It's October, which means that spooky season is here! Alas, Hexennacht is long behind us - but it's still a fine time to talk about all things witchy, including familiars.

If my familiar can't be an elongated
cow-headed dog, why bother?

Much has been said about familiars, and their usefulness (or lack thereof) in games. It's almost a running joke that most players even forget they have familiars. There have been a few great posts out there proposing solutions to make familiars more interesting, such as this one from Goblin Punch. But overall, they're a concept that really doesn't get done justice, by most DMs or by rules as written.

One way to address this is to make familiars distinct NPCs. After all, these aren't just pets for wizards, these are demons (or other spirits) that in many stories are responsible for teaching their master magic in the first place. A good DM can lean into this concept and treat the familiar as a character, interacting with their master and hopefully having some memorable traits that make summoning them enjoyable opportunities for roleplaying and storytelling - it's much easier to get invested in a familiar that has a personality and ties to a PC's backstory than just a random statblock. Treating the familiar as an NPC could even be a way to give out quests for its master - perhaps the familar decides it won't offer any further service until a ritual is completed, for example, and that ritual requires a particular resource or location to be performed.

Also, if you know anything about witch folklore, you'll know that D&D familiars are not nearly as wild as they should be.

In order to help you make interesting familiars, here's a set of tables to generate a magical spirit your table won't soon forget. Use it as a player when generating a character to create their familiar alongside them, or as a DM to create familiars for NPC casters! Though I'm working with 5e in mind, the content here should be system-neutral enough to work for any game.

Step 1. Base Form

Familiars most often take an animal shape, but this isn't the only option possible; after all, demons are creatures of infinite variety and strangeness. Roll 1d20 to determine what form the familiar takes. It uses the statblock of this creature (or the closest equivalent if no official stats exist).

Common Familiars

1. Bat

2. Bird (1d6: 1-2. owl; 3. hawk; 4. raven; 5. chicken; 6. goose) 

3. Cat

4. Dog (1d6: 1. greyhound; 2. spaniel; 3. terrier; 4. poodle; 5. beagle; 6. mongrel) 

5. Fox 

6. Frog

7. Goat

8. Lizard

9. Monkey 

10. Pig 

11. Rabbit 

12. Rat

13. Snail  

14. Snake 

15. Spider

16. Squirrel

17. Weasel

18-20. Roll 1d8 on Exotic Familiars table.

Exotic Familiars

1. Imp

2. Quasit 

3. Pseudodragon

4. Tiny Animate Object (1d6: 1. mannequin; 2. book; 3. skull; 4. helmet; 5. scarecrow; 6. chest)

5. Walking Fish (as Quipper but with a walk speed of 30 feet)

6. Tiny man (or woman) in the garb of a (1d6: 1. noble; 2. wild man; 3. knight; 4. monk/nun; 5. jester; 6. wizard). Use the stats of a Sprite, but without the fly speed and with a walk speed of 20 feet.

7. Ooze (use the stats of a Crab, but with the Amorphous trait from a Gray Ooze.)

8. Crawling Claw 

Regardless of their statblock, all familiars can turn invisible at will until they attack or their concentration ends. They can also shapeshift at will between their true form and the guise of a mundane animal (use the base form without any unusual colors or features, or roll on the Common Familiar table for an Exotic Familiar), and they are capable of speaking and understanding the languages of their master.

Step 2. Color

Roll 1d6 to determine the color of the familiar:

1-3. As the base form's natural colors (roll 1d8 on the Familiar Colors table below if not applicable).

4-5. Roll 1d8 on the Familiar Colors table below.

6. The familiar is marked by patterns (stripes, spots, etc.). Roll 1d8 on the Familiar Colors table below twice.

Familiar Colors 

1. Black

2. White

3. Red

4. Blue

5. Green

6. Yellow

7. Purple

8. Orange

Step 3. Unusual Features

In their true forms, familiars may have unusual, otherworldly features unlike those of a common animal. Roll 1d20 on this table 1d4-1 times.

1. The familiar has the wings of a (1d6: 1. bat; 2. bird; 3. butterfly/moth; 4. housefly; 5. dragonfly; 6. no wings but can levitate). If it already has wings, these may replace those of the base form or be in addition to them. It gains a fly speed of 30 feet if it does not already have one.

2. The familiar has the tail of a (1d8: 1. cat; 2. wolf; 3. fox; 4. lizard; 5. snake, including the head, a la the Chimera; 6. cow; 7. devil (thin with a spade at the end); 8. scorpion). If it already has a tail, this may replace that of the base form or be in addition to it. 

3. 1d4 of the familiar's legs (1d8 if the familiar had a spider as its base form) are replaced by those of a (1d12: 1. dog; 2. goat; 3. horse; 4. lizard; 5. chicken; 6. goose; 7. spider; 8. frog; 9. human leg; 10. human arm; 11. the legs are missing; 12. roll again, but the leg is skeletal). If the result is higher than the number of legs for the familiar's base form, it has that many extra legs.

4. The familiar has 1d4 extra legs. Roll 1d6: on a 1-4, the extra legs are identical to those of the familiar's base form; on a 5-6 roll as for number 3 on this table.

5. The familiar's head is replaced by that of a (1d6: 1-4. roll on the Common Familiars table, rerolling on an 18-20; 5-6. roll 1d12: 1. ox; 2. horse; 3. donkey; 4. human; 5. dragon; 6. lion; 7. goblin; 8. wolf; 9. bear; 10. Man in the Moon; 11. missing; 12. skull, roll again to determine what kind). If you get this result twice, the head resembles a combination of the two creatures; for example, a snake's neck with an ox's head, or a cat's head with a spaniel's ears.

6. The familiar has 1d4-1 (minimum 1) extra heads. Roll 1d6: on a 1-4, the extra heads are identical to the familiar's main head; on a 5-6 roll as for number 5 on this table.

7. The familiar's eyes resemble those of a (1d4: 1. human; 2. goat; 3. cat; 4. pupilless). Roll 1d4: on a 1-3, roll 1d8 on the Familiar Colors table to determine their color. On a 4, the eyes are heterochromic; roll 1d8 twice on the Familiar Colors table.

8. The familiar has 1d4-1 (minimum 1) extra eyes.

9. The familiar is covered in coarse wool, like that of a sheep.

10. The familiar is covered in scales.

11. The familiar is covered in feathers.

12. The familiar is covered in thick slime; grapple checks made against it are made at disadvantage.

13. The familiar resembles an animated skeleton.

14. The familiar is wreathed in (harmless) fire. Roll 1d6: on a 1-4, the flames appear as typical flames; on a 5-6, roll 1d8 on the Familiar Colors table to determine the color of the flames.

15. The familiar appears to be made of stone. 

16. The familiar has the horns of a (1d6: 1. ox; 2. sheep; 3. goat; 4. stag; 5. unicorn; 6. two sets; roll again).

17. The familiar has a mouth in its stomach or chest (or equivalent).

18. The familiar's (1d4: 1. neck; 2. body; 3. tail; 4. legs), if applicable, is unnaturally long.

19. The familiar wears a tiny crown on its head(s).

20. The familiar has a strange marking in the shape of a (1d6: 1. circle; 2. triangle; 3. star; 4. pentacle; 5. spiral; 6. runic inscription) on its (1d4: 1. forehead; 2. flank; 3. belly; 4. back). Roll 1d8 on the Familiar Colors table to determine its color.

Step 4. Personality

Roll 1d8 to determine the personality of the familiar.

1. Sarcastic, snide, likes to talk back. Prone to making passive-aggressive jabs at its master, but ultimately loyal always does as asked - it just won't always (or often) enjoy it.

2. Overly affectionate and enthusiastic, akin to a magical Golden Retriever.

3. Short-tempered, frustrates often, prone to outbursts of violence or profanity.

4. Emotionless and distant, with no sense of empathy for others. Often mistaken for malice, but it's more accurate to say that the familiar regards mortals the same way humans would regard an ant, with no attempt at understanding the thoughts
of something so far beneath it.

Wouldst thou live deliciously?

5. Smug, egotistical, easily taken by flattery. Knows that it's an immortal all-powerful demon and likes to rub this in peoples' faces. Very particular about how it's treated, and demands respect.

6. Trickster, speaks entirely in riddles and never gives a straight answer. May lead its master on odd errands to teach them lessons, the nature of which are never explained until afterward.

7. Bad influence, irresponsible, attempts to tempt its master into sin. It's already got the contract locked down and it might as well make the most of it.

8. Kind, soft-spoken, grandfatherly. Wise and sagacious, imparting its lessons to its master.

Step 5. Name

Choose a name for the familiar, or roll 1d20 each on the Familiar Name Prefixes and Familiar Name Suffixes tables.

Familiar Name Prefixes 

1. [the color of the familiar]

2. Ache

3. Cod

4. Curdle

5. Greedy

6. Grizzle

7. Guzzle

8. Hack

9. Hog

10. Jar

11. Kip

12. Knock

13. Lick

14. Louse

15. Old

16. Peck

17. Pye

18. Sugar

19. Vinegar

20. [none]

Familiar Name Suffixes

1. Bay

2. Belly 

3. Bones

4. Eye

5. Face

6. Gut

7. Head

8. Holt

9. Jenkin

10. Newes

11. Phillip

12. Sack

13. Scratch

14. Snout

15. Spittle

16. Tom

17. Wacket

18. Wallop 

19. Wart

20. [none]

Example Familiars

• Blackwacket is a familiar who takes the form of an imp. As his name implies, he appears to be carved of pitch black onyx, and often disguises himself as a harmless statue when not needed; other times, he disguises himself as a snake. He shows no emotion, believing the affairs of mortals beneath his concern.
• Kipbelly is a familiar who looks like a book bound in red leather; the cover and pages appear to ripple with faint tongues of flame, flaring up when she speaks through the mouth in her front cover. She is sarcastic and enjoys making backhanded insults to her master, or anyone else who irritates her thin patience. When not in her guise as a book, she takes the form of a monkey.
• Curdle-Newes is a familiar resembling a bright red poison dart frog. He has a sharp temper and a sharper tongue, and is quick to anger, with a booming voice that dwarfs his tiny size.
• Old Eyes is a familar who takes the shape of a fox, only distinguishable from the common animal by her seven legs. She is a manipulator, attempting to lead her foolish master into damning their soul through seducing them with sinful desires.

These tables might give you some strange results - but then, that's part of the fun! Feel free to let your imagination run wild in determining how the pieces fit together. Either way, you should hopefully come up with familiars that stand out, rather than fading into the background.

Hazard: A Medieval Dice Game

Assassin's Creed: Brotherhood

Want a quick and easy minigame to play when your PCs stop at a tavern? One game I've used to great success in a few campaigns is the medieval dice game of Hazard - the ancestor of modern-day Craps, and the source of the modern-day word meaning something dangerous (after all, if you wager too much on a die roll, you're in trouble!). All you need is two six-sided dice, which you should have already at your table. It's easy to play, moves quickly, and adds a little bit of historical versimilitude to your game worlds - which, naturally, I approve of!

How to Play

One player is the Caster and takes two six-sided dice. They first announce a number from 5 to 9 - this is called the Main. Then, they roll the dice.

• If they roll the Main, they win - this is called Nicking.
• If they roll a 2 or 3, they lose - this is called Outing.
• If they roll an 11, they Out if the Main was 5, 6, 8, or 9, but Nick if the Main was 7.
• If they roll a 12 (ie. boxcars), they Out if the Main was 5, 7, or 9, but Nick if the Main was 6 or 8.
• If they roll any other number, it is a Chance. And that's where Hazard gets interesting.

When the Caster rolls a Chance, the note which number they rolled. Now, they must keep rolling the dice, and the target numbers change.

• If they roll the Chance again, they win.
• If they roll the Main, they lose.
• If they roll any other number, they must keep rolling until they roll either a Chance or Main.

Essentially, it becomes a game to see if you will roll the Chance again before landing on the Main!

If the numbers are hard to keep track of, Wikipedia has a handy table that I'll reproduce here:

Once the Caster loses three times in a row, they pass the dice to the player at their left, who becomes the new Caster.

Betting

Both the Caster and any other players at the table may place bets on whether or not the Caster will Nick or roll the Chance before the Main. There are rules for this too:

• If the Caster Nicks, they win an amount of money equal to their bet.
• If the Caster rolls the Chance before the Main, they win an amount of money related to the odds. Again, Wikipedia's table may be helpful:

An Example of Play

On his way to Dernburg, Johann stops at the Golden Boar tavern, where he joins in a game of Hazard. As the Caster, he wagers four silver coins and chooses a Main of 6. His first roll is a 4 and a 5, for a total of 9. Now, he must roll a 9 (the Chance) before he rolls a 6 (the Main). If he does, he will get his bet back and win five silver coins (as the odds of this are 5/4, and 5/4 * 4 = 5).

His next roll is a 1 and a 2, for a total of 3. Neither the Chance nor the Main, so he must keep rolling.

His next roll is a 4 and a 3, for a total of 7. Again, another roll.

His next roll is a 4 and a 5, for a total of 9 - the Chance. Johann wins, and now has nine silver in his purse!

Next, Johann, feeling emboldened, decides he will wager eight silver coins and calls a Main of 9. Alas, Fate has not smiled upon him, and his first roll is snake eyes - a 2. He has Outed, and gets nothing, so he is left with one silver coin.

After playing two more rounds, and losing both, Johann passes the dice to Helen, who becomes the new Caster. Her chosen Main is 5, and she wagers two silver. Her first roll gives her a 3 and a 2 - so she Nicks, and wins two silver coins, so is left with four. And so on!

Cheating at Hazard

5e allows characters who have proficiency in gaming sets to add their proficiency bonuses to rolls when playing games. This is all fair and good for games of skill, such as chess, but it doesn't exactly make much sense to be better than others at card or dice games that are based on luck. In these cases, I prefer to treat playing the game as a dice roll or a minigame, like this one.

However, it does make sense that certain characters might know a few tricks about cheating at games of chance - counting cards, tapping the table, using weighted dice, and so forth. In these cases, I would allow them to apply their gaming set proficiency bonus if they decide to cheat at the appropriate game, and have them roll an appropriate skill, probably something like Deception or Sleight of Hand. If they succeed, they might automatically win the round, or have Advantage on their throw to represent tipping the odds in their favor.

This is an optional rule, and DMs should handle it at their discretion. It may not work for every table.

Meet the Flintstones

It's been a while since I last posted anything to this blog - not by my own will. Moving and starting a new job has taken up a lot of my time. But every once in a while you come across something you just have to write about - and I decided it was high time to return to the Lunar Lands.

Yesterday, in reference to a statement by Chris Pine that TRPGs should be used in schools, my gaming group was discussing the educational potential of roleplaying games, with the example of a campaign based on Beowulf being used in a unit on the poem.

My first thought, as a nerd, was that that sounded awesome.

My second thought, as a DM, was that a campaign run as a lesson plan would probably have to be considerably railroaded in order to achieve the objectives of the course, and that would restrict any advantages it might have over something more conventional.

My third thought, as a nerd and a DM, was that if handled by someone who was knowledgable about Anglo-Saxon culture and history, this could be both very fun and very informative. It all boils down to how the subject would be approached.

When running a game in a historical era (or a fantasy world based on a historical era), there are two ways one can approach it. You can run the game with the expectation that the PCs will behave in ways expected of people of the era, or you can use the trappings of the past as a backdrop to tell a story that's, at its heart, a representation of modern times.

The latter of the two seems to be the one I see more often. For lack of a better term, we'll call it Flintstonism. After all, the most recognizable example of this phenomenon is The Flintstones. Much of the series' humor comes from the fact that, even though everybody is living in caves and using stone tools, the stories are really about a middle-class suburban American family in the 1960s. You won't see Fred and Barney hunting mastodons with spears. The technology, the social mores, and the celebrity guest stars all reflect the time in which it was produced, even if they're thinly veiled beneath stone-age aesthetics and silly puns.

An aside: Yes, I know that if we're talking about medieval fantasy here, the comparison I should be using is Dave the Barbarian. But unlike The Flintstones, I can't count on my audience to be familiar with that show - which is a travesty, but it is what it is.

The most visible forms of Flintstonism in fantasy settings come from using magic and magic items to replace technology. I'm not the biggest fan of that, but that's a story for another time, and that's something that's easy enough to tailor by restricting access to magic items as the DM wishes. What I find more interesting as a point of discussion is when medieval fantasy settings reflect the societal progress of modern times, despite outwardly looking medieval.

Street signs? Traffic signals? Public transport?
Don't be fooled, this is modern-day New York.

The Middle Ages was a very different time - social class was all but ironclad, religion set people apart more than origin or language, and justice was believed to be dispensed by divine right rather than codes of law. Obviously, this varied from time to time and from place to place, but for the most part, the ways a medieval peasant saw and thought about the world would be nearly unrecognizable to your average person today. But a good many settings that use medieval Europe as a basis hew closer to the mores, norms, and issues of our time.

The Elder Scrolls and Dragon Age, for example, are Flintstonist settings. They take swords-and-sorcery imagery and medieval technology, but use them to deal with contemporary issues like nationalism, organized crime, institutional racism, and drug abuse - only with elves. These problems, while recognizable to us, would have made no sense to people during the Middle Ages. Even Warhammer Fantasy can be called a Flintstonist setting; although it does ground itself in a greater degree of historicism than some examples (as I previously noted as a common feature of British old-school fantasy gaming), the Empire is as much a satire of Thatcher-era Britain as it is a fantastic version of 16th century Germany.

On the other side of the spectrum, you have settings that attempt to model the prevailing concerns and philosophies of the historical eras they're based on - they might deal with interacting with different social classes, or the values of chivalry and honor, for example; things that don't tend to bother us much these days but meant the world to medieval people. HarnMaster includes much detail on feudal politics and class structures, and Lion and Dragon bills itself as a "medieval authentic RPG" with rules to model the hierarchies and customs of the time. Outside of the TRPG world, Kingdom Come: Deliverance stands out as an RPG that rewards players for thinking like a medieval person - granted, it actually is set in the Middle Ages rather than a fascimile of the same, but the point still stands.

Although I've used the Middle Ages as a frame of reference, it's possible to make a non-Flintstonist
setting that's grounded in another era - say, Victorian times or classical antiquity - or even a different world entirely. Empire of the Petal Throne was designed by a sociologist, and the setting of Tekumel is known for the vast layers of detail and complexity in how it depicts social scenarios and interactions that have very little to do with anything you or I would recognize, and this has been a source of both praise and criticism.

I don't want what I've said to be taken the wrong way. Although I do favor the non-Flintstonist approach in the games I run, Flintstonism is not a bad thing. In fact, some of the settings I've cited as Flintstonist are personal favorites of mine. It's easy to see why Flintstonism is so popular - it provides less of a barrier for entry as it doesn't expect specialized knowledge of its players, and it's easier for most people to imagine what their characters would do when they're faced with situations not unlike what they would face in their day-to-day life. We can relate more easily to characters and settings that have the same problems we do. And if you're going to use a story to comment on real-world society, it's perhaps more productive to comment on something happening today than it is to do so to something happening in ages past.

However, in the hands of a good DM, and with a group of players interested in taking on the mindsets of of another age, a non-Flintstonist setting can be a truly immersive experience that can bring the ages of history to life. If used as a teaching tool to inform players about history, a non-Flintstonist campaign can be especially enlightening. It's one thing to use primary sources to reconstruct how ancient people viewed the world - but it's a step beyond to take on the role of one of those people, and see how the world around them responds to their actions and what does and doesn't work.

Let's return to the example of a Beowulf campaign. Say a PC arrives at Hrothgar's court, refuses to bow to a foreign king, holds onto their treasure, acts humbly when asked to boast of their heroic deeds, and suggests that maybe killing Grendel isn't worth it and we should perhaps make him go somewhere else (or that we should go somewhere else). We could envision someone living in the modern era to act this way, in whole or in part, if faced with a similar situation.

In a Flintstonist campaign, the DM might allow the PC to make their case, and the NPCs might accept it and go with the plan. In a non-Flinstonist campaign, though, Hrothgar would probably treat the PC as insane - they fail to respect royalty! They give no gifts! They have no courageous acts worth speaking of! Grendel owes Hrothgar for the weregild of his men and he won't pay it! It might come to a shock to the players at first if they aren't used to such a mindset - but if the DM wants them to learn about how people behaved, and expected others to behave, in the era of the Beowulf poet, it could be a wonderful learning experience to jump into the role and to see what it was like to live in such a different time.

And a truly great DM might even allow someone who approached the ethics of 6th century Denmark with modern ideals to pull off their plans and succeed if they worked hard enough. Sure, it wouldn't be easy, but sometimes, crazy is just enough to work!

The Perfect D&D Movie Already Exists

 And it's not the one with Jeremy Irons, either.

Well, it finally happened. The fabled D&D movie is finally out of development hell. I'm sure you've already seen the news about Honor Among Thieves, and no doubt a considerable amount of both praise and excitement and terror and disgust alike.

For my part, I'm not going to watch it.

You might have already realized this from my previous post on the subject, but I'm not the biggest fan of TRPGs having official tie-in fiction. When I got into D&D, what drew me to it was its potential to spark the imagination and to tell stories like the ones that inspired me - fairy tales, folklore, mythology, and classic fantasy. The rules were just a framework to build off of, and every DM had the potential to make the story and the setting their own.

But that doesn't sell in the age of cinematic universes. I'm afraid that what we're going to get is just going to be some generic fantasy flick with the D&D name slapped on it because Wizards desperately wants to be Marvel, and if the movie proves a success we're only going to get more of that. I already feel like the way the lore has been handled in 5e is pivoting away from promoting the limitless potential of the game in favor of turning it into one other appendage of the Forgotten Realms metaplot. And if new players come to D&D because they want to be Drizzt or Elminster or Chris Pine instead of wanting to be Odysseus or Robin Hood or Bilbo Baggins, all we're going to see is the snake eating its tail, and the "official" D&D promoted by Wizards will grow more and more corporate, self-referential, and uninspiring. No amount of morbid curiosity I might have is going to make me put my box office dollars toward making that a reality.

But that's not what we're here to talk about today. If we're going to talk about D&D movies, I would say that we don't need one. And not just because it's going to give people ideas of what D&D should and shouldn't be - but because it already exists.

The Princess Bride is a 1987 fantasy action-adventure comedy film based on the 1973 novel of the same name. You've probably already heard of it. Chances are that even if you haven't seen the movie you can already quote at least half of it (I certainly could, before I saw it for the first time during a college movie night that ingrained it in my mind for the rest of my life). Pretty much every line has become iconic, and been quoted at gaming tables and in forum signatures around the world. It's one of those movies.

It's also, out of every work of fiction I've seen, the one that most resembles a tabletop RPG campaign.

Think about the last RPG session you've been in. What was the mood at the table? Chances are that - even if the characters were facing a serious matter of life and death - everyone was joking around, quoting memes established among the group, and mocking the DM's decisions about the plot (hopefully in a good-natured way). The Princess Bride carries this tone throughout. There are jokes woven throughout the movie, through its witty dialogue and its meta-humor poking fun at the tropes of the swashbuckling period pieces that came before it. There are memorable running gags threaded through the narrative. There's a fourth-wall-breaking frame story about the story being read by a grandfather to his grandson, with occasional cutaways to the grandson urging that the boring parts be skipped over or questioning inconsistencies. Many of their asides would hardly be out of place at a gaming table.

But that doesn't mean that The Princess Bride is a cynical deconstructionist screed about how people who enjoy this kind of thing are actually idiots. It has a heart and soul that makes it enjoyable for what it is. And it knows exactly when to take itself seriously, and when to give the plot real weight and stakes. Just like even the most irreverent gaming group should still have an investment in the story being told and the characters they're portraying, The Princess Bride treats its narrative with respect, and when the Dread Pirate Roberts overcomes the obstacles in his way to defeat his foes and rescue the princess, we root for him the way we would a Luke Skywalker or a John McClane.

Human Swashbuckler, Halfling Assassin, Goliath Barbarian.
Not pictured: the other Human Swashbuckler.

Even the core cast of The Princess Bride feels like a D&D party in the hands of a good DM. Each character is very different, with their own unique personality, concept, and goals. Westley wants to marry Buttercup. Inigo wants revenge for the murder of his father. Fezzik is going along for the ride, but discovers friendship among his companions along the way. It feels as though they were developed by different people, much like how each player in a group brings their own perspective and wants to their characters. But in the end, each character gets their arc paid off in a way that feels satisfying and earned. The writer, much like a skilled DM, was able to weave each character's personal backstory and motivations into the quest, giving them all a reason to be together and making their journeys seem worthwhile. Even if Wesley is the main character, everyone else sees their arc paid off too. It's actually done better in this regard than some of the campaigns I've seen, and DMs would be wise to take note.

Hell, it's even a plot point that when one of the party members hits 0 HP, they need to find a healer to bring him back to life. Sure, I don't like resurrections being easy in my games (and, to The Princess Bride's credit, this is handled as an admittedly off-screen sidequest, which is more to my liking) - but when's the last time you saw that happen in something that wasn't an RPG?

In short, The Princess Bride does the one thing I would want out of a D&D movie: it feels like you're watching someone's D&D campaign. And that's something I feel gets left out of many discussions on the subject. Sure, you could make a generic fantasy yarn and throw in a beholder or namedrop Waterdeep, but that's not a D&D movie. That's a Forgotten Realms movie. And the trappings (and trademarks) aren't enough to capture the true tabletop experience.

You Should Have Your PCs Get Captured More

Art by Douglas Shuler

There's been much debate among certain circles in the TRPG world about how to handle PC mortality, and there are good arguments as to both sides. A game in which the main characters can't ever die or be in serious danger runs the risk of becoming boring if there are no consequences that feel like they matter, and if the decisions of players can't impact the narrative and the setting it ceases to be a game. On the other hand, many players can find it frustrating to put work into making a character and having them unceremoniously killed off, especially if it's due to a few unlucky rolls - and if the DM has their own plans for what they want to have happen to a character, they can be disappointed if the dice ruled they would die before their time.

There's one solution I find makes for a good middle ground in between the two extremes, and as an added bonus, it has its own potential that character death doesn't. I don't think enough DMs do it. When PCs hit 0 HP (or the equivalent), consider having them be captured instead of killed.

There are a number of reasons this is appealing:

1. It provides risk without being overly punishing

As I've outlined earlier, there are good arguments for and against high-mortality gameplay. Endangering the life or wellbeing of the PCs helps create a sense of stakes and makes players feel like their decisions matter, but if characters are dying left and right, it can become more tedious than engaging. Obviously, different groups will have different opinions on this. There might be some groups who don't mind a lot of character death, especially if the process of making a new character is quick and simple in the system they're using, or if they have others as backups so that they can resume playing on short notice. However, if your players aren't as willing to let their characters die so freely, having their enemies capture them instead is a good alternative.

This might be a bit excessive, though

Capturing a defeated PC has consequences. They're taken out of the action. They're unable to complete their current task, as long as they're imprisoned. They may be severely restricted if they lose access to their gear or abilities. They may still face execution at a later date, depending on the situation. However, unlike death, imprisonment isn't permanent. A player can go back to using their captured PC after they're freed (or even before - see below). It carries the best of both worlds without the drawbacks.

2. It's more realistic

Well, sometimes it's more realistic. This is obviously going to depend on the situation. A PC who fell into a pit of molten lava obviously isn't going to be a viable captive, and if you're struck down by wild beasts you're more likely to be eaten on the spot. But if you're facing intelligent foes, like a tribe of orcs - or better yet, intelligent foes that have reasons to take you alive, like the guards of a castle you're breaking into - it might even make more sense to have defeated PCs captured as opposed to killing them.

Think about what enemies you're using in the scenario, and what they want. Perhaps the PCs have (or may be suspected to have) information that their opponents would stand to benefit from, making them more valuable if they're around to interrogate. Perhaps they're out for cash, and they feel that the rest of the party would be willing to pay for their comrades' release.

In medieval Europe, many enemies - nobles, especially - were seen as worth more alive than dead, as if they were captured on the battlefield they could be held for ransom. At certain times, this was an even greater source of revenue for armies than looting enemy treasure was. You may find that in certain situations in your games, the same could hold true; it could even be an opportunity for worldbuilding if you use it to expand on the culture behind ransoms and hostage-taking and how it works in your setting. Even more so if there are different factors that can impact the role of ransoming - certain factions may have such hatred for others that they would see no worth in bargaining with them, or they may refuse ransom, as in the case of the Knights Templar, who believed that dying at the hands of enemy captors was more honorable than being bought - and thus, were more likely to be executed because their captors knew ransoming wouldn't work. Perhaps certain paladins could be the same way.

For that matter, this helps you expand on the motivations and morals of the enemies. Do they have something to gain from ransoming? Are they opposed to killing, for whatever reason? Considering such things about enemy factions makes them seem more deep and realistic instead of just a bunch of assorted statblocks to kill.

3. It allows for rescue missions

Take a moment to think about your favorite stories, and consider how many of them use rescuing a captured ally as a plot point. Some of the most iconic movies focus on this, from Star Wars to Saving Private Ryan. The trope of the brave knight saving the princess from a tower is firmly entrenched in fairy tales and folklore. Practically every video game in the 80s dealt with this in some way or another. But, for whatever reason, in my experience this isn't very common in TRPGs.

Who hasn't wanted to do this?

Yes, you could have an NPC captured and send the party on a quest to rescue them. But if it's some random NPC, the players might not have much reason to care. It's a different matter entirely if it's their trusted companion they're fighting to save! If you want your players to experience the thrill of sneaking behind enemy lines, executing a daring rescue, and escaping with their quarry in tow, it can add an entirely new dimension of personal investment and interest if the party knows the victim well - it can even allow you, as a DM, to build on relationships between the PCs, or exploit them for drama if they've already formed.

Of course, DMs should use caution with this one. Not all players are going to enjoy their character being sidelined and not being able to do much about it. Which brings me to my next point...

4. It allows for escapes

Suppose a PC has been kidnapped by their opponent after being bested in combat. They wake up locked in a cell without their equipment, perhaps with a jailer taunting them on the way by. What are they to do now? Maybe the rest of the party is trying to rescue them - but that doesn't preclude them trying to get out on their own, either.

Allowing a PC to escape capture can be a lot of fun. If their captors are smart, they're not going to let them keep weapons, armor, or other items, and they may even restrict the use of magic, too. That offers a lot of opportunities for creative thinking - you can now challenge your players to think about how they'd escape such a situation, without falling back on the stuff on their character sheets. If you have players who have trouble thinking outside the box, this can be a good way to challenge them, as well as to showcase the potential of an open-ended RPG. It can also force the characters to operate alone if they don't have their fellow party members around to bail them out, adding an extra complication.

The Crimson Room

There's plenty of puzzles to solve and challenges to overcome that can fit in a single-room setting. Look at the popularity of escape rooms, or the adventure games that inspired them. If you have a PC get captured, you can effectively design your own escape room to challenge the player with. But don't get locked down in designing a single way out, as many escape rooms use. Your players will often surprise you with the solutions they come up with, and that's something I like to reward.

For extra fun, you can combine this with the previous point. Perhaps a PC is breaking out of their cell at the same time their allies are on the way to rescue them, and they end up running into each other halfway!

Overall, I think there's a lot of arguments that can be made as to the potential of having PCs be captured rather than killed. Next time you run a game, you may want to give them some thought.

Gods of the Lunar Lands

We've talked enough about theory in the last few posts. It's time for another setting post - and today, I'm going to be talking about the pantheon of my setting. Before we begin, a few notes about how I handle religion in my games.

• The way religion works is generally in the Roman model. There are innumerable gods out there, representing just about every concept imaginable, but the popular cults tend to revolve around a select few with commonly applicable or useful domains. The gods are in effect personifications of the driving forces behind reality, embodying all aspects of creation.
• Beyond the popular cults, however, there are many examples of petty gods dedicated to trivial things, local deities, deified ancestor figures taken from Old Faith traditions, saints venerated within the cults of the gods, and the like. These things are not mutually exclusive.
• I try to portray a religion that is truly polytheistic, rather than henotheistic. There are temples and cults that are dedicated to a singular patron god, but the majority of people will venerate all of them. Even a cleric of Kerne will understand that an offering to Olmo is a good idea when preparing for a sea voyage.
• The way religion is practiced takes influence from Roman and Germanic paganism. Sacrifices of crops and livestock are common, and most people have a small household shrine to offer to the gods watching over their families. The most common sacrifices for each god are listed below.
• Aesthetically, I like to imagine clerics and temples taking inspiration from the Eastern Orthodox Church, if for no reason other than that it's so much lesser-used compared to Catholicism (and I say this as a Catholic). Besides, onion domes are cool.

You also can't convince me these monks don't look like fucking wizards.

• There aren't such things as racial deities in my setting, nor are there pantheons unique to certain regions. While traditions will obviously differ from place to place, and while certain gods may be more popular in different areas than others, the prayers of the faithful are all generally going to the same beings regardless of what or where they are. Dwarves, for instance, largely worship Weyland, and orcs worship Kerne and Morthanos, but they do so with their own rituals and their own names. This is more akin to how ancient polytheists viewed religion - there are records of correspondence between two Roman theologicians arguing other whether or not the God of the Jews was Jupiter or Saturn. I feel like this is a fun concept that makes pantheons seem more cohesive, like they belong in the world, rather than being made up for a game. That's something that's important to me.

Now, keep in mind, Pantheonism is only one religion in the Lunar Lands. Other traditions exist too, most notably Elementalism (the faith of Quel'Ahma that reveres the four elements as cosmic forces), the Old Faith (a mix of animism, ancestor worship, and a few cults of ancient gods mostly practiced by elves, druids, and hillfolk), and the mystic traditions of the Covered Path and its dervishes. I will discuss those at a later date, but the subject of this post will be on some of the most widespread cults to the Divine Forces.

Game stats here are given for 5e, but the lore should be system-neutral. Note that these are simply guidelines on how to represent members of each cult in games. It is not impossible, for instance, to play as a Voltanite paladin with the Oath of Conquest, but this may be rarer than paladins of other oaths.

Voltan is the God of Kings and King of Gods - the chief deity of the pantheon, and also the god of law, honor, and governance. He is invoked in trials and ordeals, with courts often held at his temples, and it is believed that he should guide each king and noble to act in accordance with his code of just rulership, giving back to those who honor their leader in return.

• Voltan's symbol is a crown, sometimes crossed by a sword with the balance of a scale as its crossguard. His associated color, used on the vestments of his priests and the domes of his temples, is gold.
• The center of Voltan's cult is the Holy City of Lescatie, and it is for this reason it is considered the most important cult center of all. It is led by Matriarch Wilmarina I, whose political clout rivals that of the Emperor.
• Alignment: Lawful Good
• Domains: Order, Unity
• Oaths: Crown, Heroism, Vengeance
• Sacrifices: Gold, incense, cattle, wine

Marseah is the Goddess of Mercy, Healing, and Hospitality. The teachings of her cult stress kindness and generosity to others, and her faithful train in the arts of healing both mundane and magical. One of the most popular deities, she is the wife of Voltan.

• Marseah's symbol is a pair of hands clasped in a gesture of prayer. Her associated color is white.
• The center of Marseah's cult is the city of Heidenheim in Vardessy. It is led by Matriarch Hildegarde III.
• Alignment: Neutral Good
• Domains: Life, Peace
• Oaths: Devotion, Redemption
• Sacrifices: Incense, candles

Torvald is the God of Protection and Boundaries. A liminal deity, he stands in defense of the borders between this world and those beyond, and is thus associated with the banishment of evil and lifting curses, though he also is the patron of those who build walls and guard castles and cities.

• Torvald's symbol is a key fashioned of silver, as it is believed that he blessed silver as his holy metal and imparted it with the ability to repel the unnatural. His associated color is also silver.
• The center of Torvald's cult is the city of Torvaldshaupt in Vardessy. It is led by Patriarch Ulrich II.
• Alignment: Lawful Neutral
• Domains: Protection
• Oaths: Watchers, Devotion
• Sacrifices: Silver, sheep

Solenna is the Goddess of the Sun, worshipped for blessing the fields with life and lifting the darkness of night. She is also venerated as a goddess of hope and happiness, and her clerics joyfully honor her by facing the path of the sun with their arms spread and raised above their heads. Her husband, Mondi, is the God of the Moons, though they are doomed to always be apart, except on the rare occasion of an eclipse.

• Solenna's symbol is that of a sun disk. Her associated colors are yellow and red.
• The center of Solenna's cult is the capital city of Venec in Togarmah. It is led by Patriarch Otho VI.
• Alignment: Neutral Good
• Domains: Light
• Oaths: Devotion, Redemption, Heroism
• Sacrifices: Wheat, chickens, candles, cattle

Morthanos is the God of Death and the Dead. Unlike the other gods, who dwell in the Heavens, he reigns from a palace in the Land of the Dead, where he rules over the shades of the deceased. However, he rarely returns to his throne, for he is busy collecting the souls of the fallen. Though many fear him (and usually refer to him simply as Death, lest he take the invocation of his name as an invitation), he tries to comfort the dead and dying, as his role is only a natural part in the cycle of being.

• Morthanos's symbol is a scythe crossed by a lantern, representing the two items he carries as he walks the roads of the mortal realm. His associated color is black.
• The center of Morthanos's cult is the city of Olarra in Taldameer. It is led by Matriarch Marisela III.
• Alignment: True Neutral
• Domains: Death, Grave
• Oaths: Watchers, Redemption
• Sacrifices: Incense, coins, candles, libations

Kerne is the God of War and the Hunt, governing both the pursuit of beasts and those of man. He traditionally takes the form of a musclebound man with the head of a stag (sometimes, particularly in southern lands, a bull), clutching a weapon in both hands, and he prizes valor and courage in battle. His priests often train in the fighting arts as much as they do in prayer, and his cult produces many paladins.

• Kerne's symbol is four weapons (swords, maces, spears, axes, etc.) placed on one another to form an eight-pointed star. His associated color is red, and he is also associated with bronze and iron.
• The center of Kerne's cult is the town of Keldrholt in the North. It is led by Patriarch Vidar I.
• Alignment: Chaotic Neutral
• Domains: War, Zeal, Blood
• Oaths: Conquest, Glory, Ancients
• Sacrifices: Iron, weapons, the first kill of a hunt, ale, mead

This is but a few of the major gods of the Lunar Lands. More to follow in a later post!