Killing Gods, Part 3

All right, let's get this finished up...I've got other things to blog about: secret D&D languages, the uses of audible glammer, maybe even a run at "reviewing" Ravenloft (that was a pseudo-request). Buckle up, folks...this entry might be a looong one.

; )

When it comes to the Advanced Dungeons & Dragons game, there are two inspiring sages that act as my guiding lights, two pole stars by which I steer my ship. They are Alexis Smolensk and Anthony Huso. There are other blogs that I read (and podcasters I listen to), but in the main, these two are the only external forces shaping my outlook on the game. If I had to name one more, Gary Gygax would, I suppose come in a distant third place. 

[does it seem strange to folks that Gygax isn't the brightest star in my AD&D firmament, despite being responsible for the game's existence? There is some precedent. I have it from strong authorities that Jesus is only the third-most important figure in shaping the Roman Catholic Church; the main individuals responsible for our religion (and, thus, all other Christian denominations descended from the western Church) are St. Paul (not even one of the Twelve!) and Thomas Aquinas]

Anyway, don't shake your head at me, Dear Reader; I have my reasons.

Longtime readers of my blog are surely well-acquainted with Alexis, I've mentioned the guy often enough. Huso, on the other hand, has a small enough presence on the internet (his web site has only been around since 2018) that while I'm certain I've mentioned him, he may have well fallen through the cracks of people's perceptions. He is an AD&D aficionado of the deepest stripe, and his blog deals at great length and fair eloquence with that specific rule set, the edition of D&D he's been running for his table since 2014 when he chucked his Pathfinder game for good. It is excellent reading.

However, that's not the reason I mention the man. In my last post on the subject of killing gods, I cited several published adventures of recent years that involved physical confrontations with gods, godlike beings, and pseudo-godlings, all of which were aimed at the low level adventuring party. I explained that I don't find these particularly reasonable, given the parameters of the D&D game as designed. My feeling is that D&D provides at least some guidelines (based in both instructional text and example adventure modules of the earliest origin) for how one ought to proceed with such scenarios and, baby, these ain't it. For me, it's a grating trend and, perhaps, even a disturbing one...there seems to be an aversion to high level D&D play while (at the same time) a longing for high stakes, epic adventure of the type that rightly belongs in the realm of high level characters.

Mr. Huso doesn't share this aversion (he's blogged his thoughts on high level campaign play...more than once) and has demonstrated how one might actually write a "god-killing adventure" with an absolutely exquisite book, a masterwork entitled Dream House of the Nether Prince. It is a lavish piece of art, as well as a fiendish, evocative adventure. It is, as far as I can determine, the single best gaming product I've purchased NEW for D&D since the reissue of the AD&D manuals a few years back. It may be the coolest pre-written adventure I've purchased since the 1980s. Certainly the best since Bruce Cordell's Return to White Plume Mountain (that was published in 1999), making it my favorite for at least the last 20 years.  

Yet I can't...well, I won't...review the thing. Because I haven't played it...I haven't experienced it. I can review a movie or a piece of music, but I can't give a true review of an adventure that I haven't run, because until I do run it, I can't say for certain if it's excellent or horrible or lost in translation from text to table. And there's just no way for me to run the thing at this point.

Huso's Dream House wasn't written for me...or (probably) for you, either. He wrote it for his own players, as a capstone adventure to finish seven years of AD&D play. It is a suitably epic dungeon, a mission to a massive fortress located in the Abyss, a refuge and "vacation palace" for Orcus, demon prince of the undead. The adversaries present in the adventure are truly staggering. The treasure to be looted is absolutely mind-blowing. The final confrontation might see PCs battling Orcus or Demogorgon or (perhaps) both. It is beautiful to behold. It is a pleasure to read (if, like me, you're "into demons"). It is suggested that no less than six characters of 14th level even attempt the adventure; Anthony's seven player group brought a party of ten, and many of them died, some in very permanent ways...you can read a summary of their venture on his blog.

It is an excellent example of what is possible with the D&D rules. A 135 page tour-de-force that puts H4: The Throne of Bloodstone (it's closest comparison) to shame. I really, really mean that. Dream House is a masterpiece created more-or-less by a single person, and it makes the entire Bloodstone line of TSR look paltry and hackish by comparison. The difference, however, is understandable when one considers Huso's book to be something lovingly created for his own group of players, not something churned out for the masses at a time when the company was just trying to stay afloat business-wise. I suspect a lot of people will balk at spending $50 (the price of its POD hardcover) for a niche product of a niche hobby, especially given its limited use in many (most?) campaigns.

Why limited? Because, despite a lot of excellent info on demons and a lot of new/unique monsters and treasures, the adventure is written for the type of adventuring group that most DMs simply don't have. There are no pre-generated characters included with the thing, and I can see why: because just handing someone a character sheet with a 15th level paladin or wizard won't make the player a savvy veteran of the kind needed to navigate this level of challenge. A group with years of experience working together in cooperation would find it a rough go of it...but then, they ARE tackling a unique demonic god in its lair. Such scenarios should be limited, niche, and incredibly difficult. 

Gygax was the first person to put encounters with gods into published adventures: the Elder Elemental (in G1 and G3), Blibdoolpoolp (in D2), and Lolth (in D3). There are two things that all these have in common:

1. These encounters are all potential in nature; none of these encounters with godlings are mandated, and all may be avoided. 
2. The adventures in which they are found are the pinnacle of what I call "hard core" Dungeons & Dragons. The novice ("N") series are clearly for beginning players. The intermediate ("I") series are fine for any group already versed in the game (i.e. players that know how to play and cooperate). The special ("S") series are random, rule breaking adventures, that provide enough weirdness to stymie experienced players or give novices a "puncher's chance." But the six modules that make up the G-D series are absolutely punishing adventures, any one of which will TPK a party that fails to operate at a high level of strategic play. 

And I find it fascinating how those godling encounters "ramp up" over the course of the series. In the G modules, the most a party might expect to encounter is an eye or tentacle that will drive a PC insane or drag them screaming to oblivion. In D2, a PC might actually encounter the goddess (on her own home turf) and might be able to treat with or bargain. In D3, the party has a chance to confront a goddess on their own plane, with the potential for actual combat and the possible destruction of her avatar. This is no naga masquerading as a god (as in N1: Against the Cult of the Reptile God)...Lolth is the real deal. 

These scenarios work within the parameters and expectations of D&D play. A party of mid-level adventurers...and to me, 8th to 10th is still only (high) "mid-level"...should not be confronting creatures of godlike power. The encounters in G3 and D2 are more in line with "traps:" really rough traps that are best avoided.  Only in D3 (an adventure for characters of level 10-14) should a confrontation with a demon queen be possible, and only in the most limited of circumstances: outside her home plane, away from the bulk of her power base. Again, Lolth is not the point of the module; exploring the Vault and dealing with the threat of the Eilservs clan is. The goddess might even be a potential ally given the transgressions of Eclavdra and her ilk, though this is not an explicit suggestion of the module.

But again, it is in adventures like these that we see the power and majesty of the D&D game. In the first part of this series I wrote how, of all the sword & sorcery fantasy that influenced D&D, only Leiber and Moorcock display their protagonists in actual interaction with divinities. PCs allying themselves with Lolth, bargaining for leniency from Blibdoolpoolp, or being used as pawns by Orcus (in Huso's book) all exemplify scenes one reads in those S&S fantasies...and while a divinity being willing to treat with mortals speaks to the fallibility (and vulnerability) of the divinity in question, it is really only those characters with world-shaking power (like Elric) who have the capability to bring actual destruction to such entities.

And this is of particular importance to the default setting of Dungeons & Dragons, because under the terms of the game, these are no "false gods." These demon queens and princes are gods that are worshipped, that are followed by devout clerics, and to whom they may bestow spells. And yet they are not safe from destruction! Player characters thus have the power to alter the cosmology of the campaign  setting and impact the reality of the game world in drastic ways. What happens to the Drow clerics of Lolth if Lolth is destroyed on her home plane? Do they cease to be a threat altogether? Doubtful, but her death (if achieved) will surely change Drow culture at a fundamental level.

That's the opposite of de-protagonizing players. 

And that, perhaps, is what I find lacking about some of these other OSR offerings that involve encounters with deities, quasi- or otherwise. There's a certain sort of "enforced smallness" that comes along with placing PCs in situations in which they are absolutely, hopelessly outclassed by a power beyond mortal comprehension. It should be hard for the PCs to even encounter such a being. Barring a long and arduous journey through miles of hostile environment and unnumbered foes to the god's most sacred (and well-guarded) temple, nothing short of a complicated ritual/sacrifice should allow access to such a being on the Prime Material Plane. And as bodily travel to the outer planes is generally outside the reach of low-mid level characters, such encounters should be an extremely rare and wondrous thing...if possible at all.

Okay...perhaps one more post on the subject (to conclude) is needed.

Dwarves

When I was a kid, I didn't think much of dwarves.

Originally, at least. But remember, that for the first 3-5 years of my gaming career, my sole role was as a Dungeon Master. My experience with playing ANY character class was nil.

When I finally did get the chance to play in a game as a PC, we were deep in AD&D territory and any race-class combo that didn't allow unlimited levels (or maximum in the case of assassins, druids, monks, etc.) was pretty much taboo. Our campaigns ran in the upper echelons of game play...and even when we would (occasionally) start over with 1st level characters, it was expected that SOMEday we would reach those lofty heights. Dwarves were limited in every class, with the possible exception of thief...but as they were pretty fumble-fingered compared to the halfling variety who would want to go down that road?

Only an idiot would play a dwarf.

My younger brother was one such idiot...the only one of our regular gaming circle that would ever bother to play a dwarf. Generally a fighter, maybe a fighter-thief...but then, AB started as a B/X player and dwarves were hearty and he was apt to get killed off early anyway. I'm not sure he ever expected to live long enough to get to "lofty levels," though later (when he was of a more "serious" frame of mind) he switched over to playing ONLY human fighters and human barbarians.

Everyone else was a human or a half-elf bard/druid or a halfling thief or a Drow cleric...etc. You get the picture I'm sure. Dwarves as a species were nearly extinct in my D&D games from about, O say, 1986-1999. Or thereabouts.

And yet, even though I didn't play MY first dwarf until D20, I started getting intrigued by dwarves earlier than that. And I can pretty much point to two sources that got me intrigued:

Revolt of the Dwarves

Obmi the Dwarf

Revolt of the Dwarves was a TSR "Endless Quest" book that I never read until long after I'd stopped reading "pick-a-path" books...I believe I picked it up at at an elementary school library one summer when I was acting as a night custodian (maybe...it's possible I thumbed through it earlier). What intrigued me more than the story was the artwork, especially Larry Elmore's cover:

Check out that badass front-and-center, naked blade in hand. No hammer/axe slinger this guy...he's friggin' Russel Crowe as Maximus in Gladiator. Does the image remind you of anything you might have seen recently? It sure does me.

But this is the kind of dwarfs I could get into...dwarves on charging destriers, lances in hand. Where were these guys when I'd been playing D&D before?

Obmi, first found in Gygax's module G3: Hall of the Fire Giant King, is likewise a serious badass, showing just how cool a dwarf in AD&D can be. Of course, I didn't pick up a copy of G1-3 until 1988 or so after I'd lost contact with my original gaming group. But Obmi certainly made an impression on me, as did his detailed characterization in Gygax's own Gord the Rogue novels.

Since becoming intrigued, I've had some experiments of a dwarven nature, myself...for example, I played my own fighter/thief/duelist in D20 (the skinniest dwarf you've ever met) and I picked up a whole box of Warhammer dwarf models to craft an elaborate Mordheim warband based on Thorin and company (even had a halfling sword-for-hire to make Lucky Number 14).

These days, of course, I'm playing B/X (er...running B/X) so all my dwarves are "just dwarves," not dwarven fighter/thieves or Tordek...and certainly they bear little resemblance in my mind to John Rhys-Davies as Gimli. But even though they're "just dwarves" doesn't mean they can't still be badass. The more I consider it, the more I want MY dwarves to look like the dashing cavalry on the cover of Revolt, and LESS like Flint Fireforge. Damn Dragonlance and its clownish demihumans (gully dwarves, gnomes) anyway!

Recently, I've introduced some dwaren-ish plot stuff into my weekly campaign. Even though I want to continue exploring the deserty-Arabic-Egyptian setting in which the characters find themselves, I'm thinking that I'm going to "up the ante" on the dwarf impact. I need to stop thinking Nordic and start thinking "short, burly alien species." I believe I have simply fallen into the same trap many DMs and world-crafters have before me, namely riffing off the traditional Norse mythology on which the dwarf class is based. There's no need to do that...many of the monsters one finds in D&D are of quite different origins (Greek myth and 20th century science fiction, for example). The game is already a damn hodge-podge. At least I can make the dwarves something worth playing!

By the way...our one dwarf player in our Thursday night game? Not one of the guys with a 3 Charisma. Now that's something to riff off.

[and, yes, in case anyone's wondering, this little post has been inspired by the inundation of dwarf pix to the internet from Ye Old Hobbit film. I'll take inspiration where I can find it. Who knows, maybe y'all are in for "dwarf week" here at the ol' Blackrazor...]

Realizations

I had a couple minor epiphanies yesterday (what do you know…it was Wedesday, which is the day of thought as described by Wotan, Odin, and Mercury). Now in the spirit of Thor’s Day, I’ll be expansive and share ‘em with y’all.

#1 I might be past my prime. All these numerous aches and pains (and injuries) that seem to be taking forever to heal, not to mention my receding hairline, may be indicative of the fact that I’m on the other side of 36 and am not doing nearly enough to stay young…you know: yoga, vegan diet, fasting, abstaining from booze, living in the country and drinking pure, mountain spring water. I’ll need to ramp up my “healthful living” if I’m going to keep up with all those young bloggers around the sphere.

#2 Every single adventure module I dig, appreciate, or find myself inspired by was written BEFORE 1985. With the possible exception of Return to White Plume Mountain (1999) and maybe H2: The Mines of Bloodstone (1986)…but the former is based on my favorite original module and the latter seems mainly a pastiche of D1 and D3. Regardless, it’s fairly sad to realize that the Unearthed Arcana, possibly my favorite RPG book OF ALL TIME up till the age of 15 or 16 (really!) is the great dividing line between the gold and the dross…or rather “The Shit” and the shitty.

I should note that while the information from the UA was immediately incorporated (upon its publication) into my long-running D&D campaign, we (my friends and I) had mainly grown beyond modules (writing our own PC-specific adventures) at the time, so the drop-off in module quality was imperceptible. Oh, our co-DM continued to purchase some, but in general she cannibalized ‘em and made ‘em fit her own purposes. There was nothing I saw or read (or played or ran) after 1985 that really got me cranked the way those early adventures did. With the possible exception of the two modules I list above.

Why am I even looking at this? Well, hard-on-the-heels of yesterday's post I started thinking about the specific AD&D modules that inspired me. Yes that’s right: I wanted to post a NEW LIST! Whereas previously I listed my Top Ten D&D modules for ANY edition (and yet still none are later than 1985), this new list is AD&D only and may include modules that I haven’t actually played OR ran as the DM. This is purely inspirational stuff for me…i.e. it makes me want to play AD&D just flipping through ‘em or thinking about ‘em.

Top Ten Inspirational AD&D Modules

#10 WG4: The Forgotten Temple of Tharizdun – I admit it, I have never played or ran this module. In fact, I’ve owned it for less than a year. And it looks DAMN tough to “solve” or “get right.” However, I have run S4 which also looked tough (in fact, no one I’ve run through it has ever survived to get to the deeper caverns) and this one is shorter, more focused and, hell, more scary. I love it.

#9 G3: Hall of the Fire Giant King – The G series did not make my Top Ten list of modules that I want to play, but the 3rd module of the trilogy is about as “D&D” as a module gets. Giants, Drow, scheming dwarves, red dragons, weird elder gods, chests full of treasure (and poison needle traps!), a river of lava…and three descending levels…this is the archetypal dungeon delve as far as I’m concerned, even beating the pants off B2. Plus, as far as ambience goes, darkness back-lit by the glow of magma is pretty rope-a-dope.

#8 & #7 A3: Aerie of the Slave Lords and A4: Dungeon of the Slave Lords – I wasn’t exactly sure how to rank these as (similar to WG4) I have never played/run them. Lawrence Schick’s A4 is truly inspiring…I only wish I had a group of players adventurous enough to try it out! And it does seem to be a fitting climax to the series. A3 on the other hand is one of the few valid arguments for the separation of race and class, as I’m not sure you could really have the same type of show-down with simple B/X archetypes (I’ll have to try re-writing it and see). However, it is the city of the Slave Lords that makes me want to play AD&D, as I can see a good group of players spending many sessions role-playing their explorations of the town…all those random encounter tables of AD&D get a chance to shine!

#6 S2: White Plume Mountain – some may think it’s strange that the module I’ve blogged about so much doesn’t crack the Top 5. The fact of the matter is I DO consider it one of the best written modules of all time (certainly it’s one of my favorites). But as far as INSPIRING me to play…well, maybe I’ve just ran it so many times over the years that it doesn’t give me the same juice as the next five on the list.

#5 N1: Against the Cult of the Reptile God – this is the last adventure module on the list that I haven’t actually played or ran. However, for whatever reason, just holding it in my hands wants me to break out the PHB, roll up an elven fighter and equip him with ring mail and a long sword. Reading N1 I just think it is an excellent module for a group of experienced, MATURE role-players that want to start a new campaign with low level characters. There’s just so much more meat to it than the average low level adventure…it makes me want to start a campaign (case in point: I have run T1: The Village of Hommelet and it doesn’t make my list of inspiring modules, despite being excellent).

#4 S1: Tomb of Horrors – As with G3 and S2, I have plenty of experience with this module and a lot of feelings/memories associated with it. For that reason alone, it gets my heart racing to play AD&D. However, if I could find any players crazy enough to try it, I would jump at the chance to run it again. Hell, I’d even let them roll up characters using the Unearthed Arcana!

#3 D2: Shrine of the Kuo-Toa – it was tough figuring out which number D2 comes in at. I love the fish guys, I love the vaguely Lovecraftian nature of their slimy under-city, and the cover art by Roslov is VERY inspiring. As with G3, I find something very archetypally “D&D” about D1 and D2, but especially the latter. And as with A3, the inclusion of different classes for the KT in such an interesting fashion makes it tough to hang onto my “race as class” hardliner stance.

#2 I1: Dwellers of the Forbidden City – now that I’ve got the first 8 listed, #2 on the list is really a no-brainer. The artwork alone (exterior and interior) shouts AD&D, and even the tasloi images (I am NOT a fan of tasloi) makes me want to run a game, let alone the yuan-ti (of whom I AM a fan). The module has everything one needs to run a short session, or a multi-session mini-campaign, and I totally dig on that. Even the pre-generated characters (including a bard, a druid, and a half-orc cleric!) are super cool. I will always remember I1 as the first module I read that included an evil wizard’s SPELL BOOK as part of the treasure trove (and probably the best treasure I’d ever seen). I don’t even think Gygax gave spell books to his Drow magic-users, a gross oversight if you ask me.

#1 Q1: Queen of the Demonweb Pits – I love this module. Every time I see it I want to start an AD&D campaign. If that’s not the definition of “inspiring” I don’t know what is. I know I’ve said elsewhere that White Plume Mountain may be the best module ever written due to its tight focus and great example of D&Disms, but this is probably my favorite module of all time. Truly. I don’t even need to HOLD the damn thing to get inspired…just seeing the ultra-creepy cover on display makes me want to play it. The map is a masterpiece. The interior art is excellent. The dimensional gates can provide years of adventuring. As with the Kuo-Toa, the Driders make a pretty fair argument for separating class and race (by the way, driders as a concept are probably one of my favorite D&D monsters of all time). Lolth is a badass…probably the coolest original monster entry of 1st edition AD&D, not based on a legendary or mythic figure (THAT would probably be Demogorgon). Even the NAME of the module is inspiring. It’s like the name for some 1981 heavy metal album (probably British, like Iron Maiden or Ozzie). And from experience, I can say that playing OR running this module makes me want to play MORE D&D. Honestly, this is hands-down the most inspirational AD&D module I own.

Happy Thursday, folks!

: )

Plotting Goals

Star Wars offers a picture of what could be a typical, if stunningly functional (in the psychology sense of the term, as in “not DYSfunctional”) adventure party. You have the various members with their respective sets of expertise, all operating in tandem with each other…heck, you even have a good example of how a “paladin-type” character (Obi-Wan, Luke) can get along with mercenary/thief types (Han, Lando)…mainly by the former not being too self-righteous and the latter having (deep down) hearts of gold.

But Star Wars IS a story, not an RPG. If the original movie was an RPG adventure, it would pretty much be one, long railroad all the way to the climactic Death Star battle. Luke says, “I’m not ready to leave the farm.” Bam! GM kills off all his relatives. Han says, “Let’s try to run the hell away from this giant space station.” Bam! Sorry, you’re being pulled in by a tractor beam. Etc., etc. All to set up the characters chance to be “heroes” in the GM’s story.

For a movie (or novel or TV show or comic book or whatever), that is totally appropriate to the story-telling medium. In an RPG it’s pretty damn annoying.

Personally, I was never a great GM at developing “plots” or “storylines.” I was great at running adventure modules, good at riffing off players actions, and a fair hand at character development. But elaborate plots and railroads? Not really. I did much better with “here’s the situation, now let’s watch how it un-folds IN PLAY.”

A lot of the early Vampire the Masquerade adventures (most of which I ran at least once) walked a thin line between “scenario” and “railroad,” often stomping all over the line. Any adventure that has a number of specific “set pieces” runs the risk of simply being a GM’s opportunity to act as director/author with the players doing nothing more than ad-libbing lines in a plot that’s a foregone conclusion. Some gamer groups may get off on this (though why not just form a real theater troupe?) but I consider role-playing to be a COLLABORATIVE effort.

Part of this may be ascribed to my own laziness (I don’t want to have to do all the work), and part of it to “the way I was raised” (my adventure-crafting sensibilities being formed by B/X D&D and the various Old School adventure modules of early TSR). Whatever, that’s just how I roll: fast and loose “plot-wise.”

Which, incidentally, might explain why it’s been such a challenge for me to run some of these new commercial RPGs of the last 15 years or so. Some practically beg for the GM to have an elaborate plot structure for characters to traverse. Without it, players are forced to rely on their own damn selves for generating motivation/impetus to explore the game setting…and players used to site based scenarios or railroady plots have difficulty doing just that.

But that’s all tangential…the reason I bring all this up is a long-winded intro to why I do NOT like the idea of awarding XP based on mission/goal. When I posed the question before about how to award XP for a non-treasure-based / not-just-combat-based adventure game, many MANY of the commentators suggested this type of reward. And, yeah, I was considering it myself for a bit.

But upon further re-consideration I don’t like it. I’m sorry. And NOT just because it’s “arbitrary” or left to GM fiat…because of course, you can write a game reward system to be a set amount if you like…for example “all missions provide 100xp times the average level of the party members” or “every mission provides 500xp per game session it takes to complete the mission” or “all missions provide a 1000xp bonus for accomplishment, with a 500xp bonus if the characters faced mortal combat and an additional 500xp bonus if any of their party members are killed.”

See how easy that is?

Here’s the REAL problem for me: once you set a mission objective or “adventure goal” you start limiting how players interact with the game environment. You start to create a “right way” to play. And that is the antithesis of collaborative role-playing.

For video games, XP bonuses for goals and “quest completion” are great. But video game RPGs are fairly linear by both design and necessity…the good ones are engaging because they have an excellent story/plot and a decent user interface, but they are ALL limited by the programming given to them by their creators. A video game player gets little say in how the plot develops or resolves (one of the reasons Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic was so cool is that one received SOME choice in how the ending turned out) simply because the space available in a machine is finite.

The human imagination is not nearly so limited…sure there are the boundaries of language, knowledge, and experience, but sheer creativity provides endless possibility, especially if one refuses to accept those limitations. FOR EXAMPLE:

Player: I’m going to use my “speak with animals” spell to talk to the cave bear instead of fighting it.

GM #1 (a zoologist specialized in bear habits): even though you can communicate with the bear you trespassed into its territory during mating season AND he’s hungry AND bears don’t think like humans anyway…he’s still going to attempt to maul you but you can understand his roars of “food, enemy, food, enemy..”

GM #2 (just going with the random whimsy and magic): make a Reaction roll. Ok, you and the bear sit down and have a long conversation about what’s been going on in the forest lately…you offer him some rations, and he gets you some honey from a nearby tree…

Now, yes, the latter GM in the example is not being extremely realistic, but Dr. Doolittle isn’t anything I’d call “real” anyway.

[Ahhh…"realism" (whatever the hell that means). The bane of RPGs…it’s that “Holy Grail” that’s led to more heated discussions and RPG skill systems than pretty much anything else]

Shit. If folks really wanted “real” would Gamma World have such a sturdy little following? But again, I’m digressing.

Back to the point: when you start setting rewards you start closing down the open-endedness of the RPG possibility. FOR EXAMPLE: Nothing in the classic adventure module G1-3 precludes enterprising characters from making a deal with the giants themselves (provided they have something to offer) allying with them and starting a war campaign against the surface world rulers that originally hired them. Nothing stops the player characters from charming Obmi and making him into a henchman and boon companion. Nothing prevents a sleaze-minded PC from polymorphing into a giant and having a torrid affair with King Snurre’s queenly wife, perhaps enticing her into helping commit regicide.

Yeah, that’s some outside-of-the-box thinking that doesn’t prevent the characters from gaining XP and advancing in level and power (as well they should!) since they still end up with plenty of XP-garnering loot.

But when you start making goals…even BROAD goals (not necessarily “kill Snurre” though in a video game that would probably net you some sort of bonus) like “stop the giants’ raids”…it starts to shut down what the PCs can do and still get rewarded. Unless one wants to simply do XP-awards based on “providing enjoyment to the gaming group,” another arbitrary category frequently found in RPG reward systems that I cannot stand…who’s to say what is going to prove enjoyable and to whom?

So, bottom line…I’m against doing XP for mission goals. In an adventure RPG (and here I mean table-top, not video console) I want the players to be able to exercise a full latitude of action, not constrained by the reward system. Because even though there ARE contrarians like myself that will play against the grain (to our own detriment, dammit!), reward systems DO influence behavior and in-game action. Everyone likes rewards!

: )

Killing Giants Is My Business...And Business Is Good!

I said earlier that I was going to explain why I don't include G1-3: Against the Giants in my top ten list of all-time favorite adventures, and this is that post.

Let me say right off the bat, that I like the G trilogy...it's definitely up there in the top 15 or so. I've run it at least four or five times (twice completely, once only as G2: Glacial Rift of the Frost Giant Jarl).  For a straight up dungeon crawl, it is excellent and a pretty damn tough challenge.

Heck, I even attempted to convert it to D20 when I first got my hands on D&D 3.  Easy enough, except the encounter levels are waaaay out of range of an 8th - 10th level party (even a LARGE party). And the conversions I've seen that nerf the treasure level (to keep in line with the standard D20 fare)...ick. What would a giant chieftain do with only a paltry handful of gold coins. Totally bogus, in my opinion.

OH...and the conversions I've seen remove the Hammer of Thunderbolts. What the F?!

G1-3 is a great "hack and slash" dungeon. Seven levels of monsters of the meanest stripe (GIANTS!) plus assorted beast and DRAGONS.  You really can't complain if you're a DM looking for a fun adventure romp for high level characters.

Let's talk about giants for a moment.  As a monster, one would usually think to encounter them in 1s and 2s. Heck, the oldest fairy tales and modern fantasy include giants as antagonists, but I can't think of a single literary reference where you find more than one at a time. And even for a party of low to mid level characters, a single giant (depending on the type) can be a challenge. A fire giant?  Immune to most of a magic-users offensive spells (the fire ones, in other words) one of those big boys requires A LOT of chopping due to their high hit point totals.

And WHILE the party is chopping away, the fire giant (or any giant) is going to inflict a tremendous amount of damage. High hit dice means a high percentage chance to hit, and of course the damage per blow can be devastating (especially for pre-D20 D&D PCs where hit dice/Constitution bonuses usually ends at level 9, save for some bonus hit points).

Now look at the giant as a society. A tribe or stronghold filled with these behemoths. Holy smokes!

It's like Gygax said, "All right Robilar, you want me to write-up a dungeon crawl for you even though you're 23rd level and outfitted to the teeth with magic items? Try THIS on for size!"

And that's how I like to run the G modules...as a super dungeon ROMP for high level characters. Sure, sure...the party can plot and plan and adopt a cautious strategy for waging a battle of attrition against the giants (such is even suggested in G1: Steading of the Hill Giant Chief). But I prefer the gung ho/gonzo style of blasting their way through group after group of heavily armed opposition in a frantic frenzy of carnage, occasionally finding respite in a random empty room (though I can recall a certain party that used a "hamster ball" tactic with an Ottiluke's resilient sphere to great effect as a method of escaping a particularly brutal encounter in G3: Hall of the Fire Giant King).

The war of attrition may be more "winnable" for lower level characters (I have NOT necessarily found this to be the case), but it is also drawn out and BORING. It's one thing to have PCs retreating from an excursion, resting up, and heading back down into unknown depths.  It is quite another when they know about 85% of what they expect to find ("oh, whadya' know...ANOTHER squad of giants...").

That isn't to say G1-3 isn't worth playing, even for those mid-level 8th to 10th level characters. There are some great tricks, traps, and treasure, not to mention GIANTS and DRAGONS the epitome of fantasy adventure of any stripe.  G1-3 also introduces one of my favorite Gygax created NPCs of all time...not King Snurre or even Eclavdra, but Obmi the Dwarf.  This little runt is so downright mean, vicious, and despicable that he's practically a one-dwarf justification for multi-class all by himself (Obmi is a fighter/thief). His inclusion is one of several things that prevents me from converting the modules to a B/X or Labyrinth Lord format (would even a 12th level Dwarf lord really do him justice? Maybe).

G1-3 is one of the last modules I found in that Montana used book store, and I know this because I'd already discovered Obmi in Gary Gygax's Gord the Rogue books. Finding the NPC in the Giant modules was one helluva' "Easter Egg" for me, and I couldn't wait to sic the dirty little bugger on my PCs.  However, I strangely cannot recall any actual fights between Obmi and my PCs...either they turned out anti-climactic, or he got avoided all together. I just can't remember off-hand.

Anyway, G1-3 is a great series, and I'd be tempted to include it at #10 except for the fact that it is sooooo long.  For some folks, it makes an excellent mini-campaign by itself (assuming you have the PCs or at least the pre-gens for it). For me to include it in my Top 10, I need a slightly smaller scope.