The High Price of Arcane Magic in The Implied AD&D Setting (and other thoughts)

It would be quite cringe of me to not make at least one blogpost this year, so here it is. Skip down past the images for the AD&D discussion.

I'm currently playing in a 1.5+ year-old, rotating DM (not by design) OSE campaign. It's fun, but I've noticed that whenever I DM sessions the players are as paranoid as level 1s despite being the majority of the party being level 7-9 and having access to Raise Dead from two PC clerics. While I've been known to throw some meta-fucking curveballs (a lich that was a pseudo-lich; a white dragon that was an albino red dragon), the group sometimes looks for twists were there are none: Perhaps I'm too good at being unexpected.

In real life, I had an opportunity to run a DCC funnel for two MTG friends, and now sure that I have at least one potential player, I've been contemplating setting up a real life OSR table. My brain says OSE Advanced but my heart says AD&D 1e. We shall see.

Excerpted and slightly edited from the 1e DMG (Premium Edition), p. 13 & 15

Wish, the ur-spell of AD&D, ages the caster 3 years per cast. Humans can die as early as age 62, and the starting age for Human Magic-Users is 26-40. 12 Wishes (or Golems to put it in perspective), places the 26-year old human m-u in the "death by old age" zone.  Meanwhile, Elf Magic-Users with 18 Int are limited to level 11, barring some of the Dragon Magazine and/or Unearthed Arcana additions (which are not universally accepted despite how kickass an elf ranger/druid/magic-user sounds). As an aside this also resolves the "why don't clerics just revive everybody?" question: A powerful mortal servant of a god shaving 3 years off his lifespan to cast a spell that requires a system shock roll is reserved for heroes (as seen in the 1e Dragon Magazine write-up of Wee Jas).

How then, do human magic-users get around such a huge hurdle? The simplest way is to either never cast Wish or save it for emergencies. Potions of Longevity can stretch your life, but a cumulative 1% chance per potion drunk to immediately re-age is very risky. Direct divine intervention is possible but hard to get. Ultimately the best two options are lichdom or forcing monsters and items to do the work for you. 

Lichdom technically removes the downside of aging, although I would argue that the skeletal/decaying form of the Lich and later Demilich actually betrays that it does take a toll on the undead body. It's easy to see a "fresh" Lich being relatively corpse-like but not rotting until the pedal hits the floor and 10, 50, 100 Wishes put the stress of 30, 150, 300 years on the body. Maybe ol' Acererak got cozy in his Tomb of Horrors and then spammed so many Wishes that the weight of 3000+ years turned his body to dust except his skull.

The other way is by hunting down magic items, sites, substances, and artifacts that can grant Wishes, or enslaving, tricking, or forcing creatures that grant Wishes to give them to you. That means a lot of traffic with demons and devils, particularly their higher-ups. This opens up a whole other can of worms, as there's definitely an indistinct but existent line where continued dealings with Evil spirits is definitely not morally Neutral and is clearly Evil, which may draw the attention of Good to an overly ambitious magic-user.

But what does this matter for THE GAME? Well, if you establish patterns early on, you show players how they can use those patterns, in addition to creating logic for dungeons. Dozens of Golems in a dungeon means Lich or Extraplanar, likely Evil involvement somewhere, which will be borne out by more Undead or Extraplanars, respectively. It also makes things like methods of golem construction without Wish use (as it was OD&D via The Strategic Review) both a hook and something valuable in its own right.

Give me a fish-man and I will explain the monsters of my setting

Inspired by this post by Joseph Manola I read years ago and late-night sleepy thoughts. 

While Ye Olde Snake-Men Empire isn't a bad idea, I feel it's been suffering a bit of overexposure in the OSR, a critcism which extends to my own WIP setting. Until yesterday, I was riffing heavily on McKinney's Carcosa with the Serpentine (snake-men) being the creators of Mankind for the purposes of occult science. The Kuo-Toa (or their off-brand OGL equivalents) popped into my head as something cool to add to the bestiary. I had originally thought of them as enemies of the Serpentine, Men, and Elves but then I realized they fit the role I wanted the Sepentine to play.

You may ask, "Buzzclaw, what's so special about fish-dudes?" You're right to ask that. My first foray into the Kuo-Toa (and the D&D brand) was 3e; I wasn't impressed. They seemed like generic fishmen. Then recently (this year, I believe), I got a chance to read D2 - Shrine of The Kuo-Toa. That won me over. Horrible, amphibious fish-men ruling and rampaging throughout sea, land, and underworld, kidnapping (fishing? manning?) people for dark rituals. Then the land and sea groups went extinct, leaving only the underworld-dwellers. But they still remember those upstart Men and they're dreaming up schemes of revenge. That's some good shit right there.

Legacies of the Kuo-Toa

Assuming then, that the man-fishes had a stereotypical empire like the classic snake-men, what did they leave behind?

1) Magic! In my own setting, the (off-brand) Kuo-Toa created occult science (less icky Carcosa rituals) then Elves used some of their notes + demonic consultations to create classic D&D magic.

2) Magic Items! In their monster entry, Kuo-Toa really like to use daggers and spears; embellish that dagger +1 with aquatic motifs!

3) Monsters! Land lampreys. Land Urchins. Mantari. Behemoths from the Lankhmar sets. Cloakers too. What's a Roper but a weird-ass land-squid? Are Koalinths and Scrags aquatic versions of Hobgoblins and Trolls OR did the Kuo-Toa take aquatic creatures and create terrestrial versions? Are Mermen and Tritons prototypes or alternative research for Project: Man?

4) Dungeons! All those ruins and tombs are the handiwork of the vanished man-fishes. Are you a bad enough party to dive into ancient, pre-human ruins in search of loot?

The implied setting of OD&D LBB + Blackmoor

 Greyhawk may have been a mistake

You may have heard about the OD&D Implied Setting, an interpretation of the implicit setting of the original edition of Dungeons and Dragons based on a close reading of encounter lists et cetera. This post is about what setting is suggested when you only use the Little Brown Books (Men & Magic, Monsters & Treasure, Underworld & Wilderness Adventures) and Blackmoot; It's not in-depth.

Races aren't different: Dwarf, Elf, Halfling, and Human.

Classes are different: Assassins, Clerics, Fighting-Men, Magic-Users, and Monks. While the core trio (Cleric, F-M, and M-U) suggest a European milieu while Assassin (if interpreted as a ninja) and Monk suggest an Asiatic milieu.

Combat uses the Alternative Combat Rules + Hit Locations. An interesting aside but combat is a bit different (and not necessarily better)  with Blackmoor, acting almost like a proto-I.C.E. system.

Monsters are a bit tl;dr but for completeness: Androids, Aquatic Elves, Bandits, Basilisks, Berserkers, Black/Gray Pudding, Brigands, Buccaneers, Cavemen, Centaurs, Chimeras, Cockatrices, Cyclopes, Dervishes, Djinn, Dolphins, Dragons (Black, Blue, Gold, Green, Red, White), Dragon Turtles, Dwarves, Dryads, Efreet, Elasmosauruses, Elementals (Air, Earth, Fire, Water), Elves, Fire Lizards, Floating Eyes, Gargoyles, Gelatinous Cubes, Giants (Cloud, Fire, Frost, Hill, Stone), Giant Beavers, Giant Beetles (Bombadier, Boring, Fire, Giant Stag, Rhinoceros), Giant Crocodiles, Giant Crabs, Giant Eels, Giant Fish, Giant Frogs, Giant Leeches, Giant Octopi, Giant Otters, Giant Sea Spiders, Giant Sharks, Giant Squids, Giant Toads, Giant Wasps, Gnolls, Gnomes, Goblins, Golems, Gorgons, Gray Oozes, Green Slimes, Griffons, Hippogriffs, Hobgoblins, Horses (Draft, Heavy, Light, Medium, Mule), Hydras, Insects or Small Animals, Invisible Stalkers, Ixitxachitl, Juggernauts, Kapoacinths, Koalinth, Kobolds, Lacedons, Lampreys, Large Insects or Animals, Living Statues, Locathah, Lycanthropes (Wearebear, Wereboar, Weretiger, Werewolf), Manta Rays, Manticores, Mashers, Mermen (Blackmoor), Mermen (OD&D), Minotaurs, Minotaur Lizards, Morkoth/Morlock,Mososauruses, Mottled Worms, Mummies, Nixies, Nomads, Nymphs, Ochre Jellies, Orcs, Pegasi, Pirates, Pixies, Plesiosaurus, Poisonous Coral, Portuguese Men-of-war, Pungi Rays, Purple Worms, Robots, Rocs, Ropers (no stats), Sahuagin, Salamanders, Sea Hags, Sea Horses, Sea Monsters, Skeletons, Spectres, Strangle Weed, Titants, Treants, Trolls, Unicorns, Vampires, Weed Eels, Whales, Wights, Wraiths, Wyverns, Yellow Molds, Zombies

The monsters deserve more discussion based on certain trends. Namely, there are a lot of very tough aquatic monsters and very few people (or demi-people) out there. On the flipside, there are very many relatively weak terrestrial creatures. Many monsters are derived from British or Greek legends.

The way I interpret this is that setting of the LBB + Blackmoor is one in which wealthy coastal cities (which are vaguely British, Mediterranean, or Asiatic) flourish while the landlocked interior is home to poor and desperate people fighting for survival and wealth. Almost anything in the interior has been plundered; there are no more tombs to plunder or dungeons to find. But in the seas, oh, in the seas! Every island, reef, and shipwreck hints at treasure and terrors.

Fire-cults of the Trolls

Imagine a small chunk of wood. At the end of it flickers a yellow-red shape, casting a cruel light on you. Imagine the primal fear that tugs at your soul knowing that baleful glow can harm you, can kill you if it touches your skin. This is what a troll thinks when he sees fire. Fire is death. It is not warmth or comfort, it is pain and destruction and agony. Little wonder then that most trolls will hesitate to attack even when confronted with a simple torch. Now consider that there are some trolls who worship this deadly fire.

They can be compared to the death-cults humans are so drawn to; ritual murders and necromantic studies undertaken to cheat, or at least postpone, death.  Their counterparts among trolls are fire-cults. It’s easier to recognize troll fire-cultists than human death-cultists: Fire-cultists are completed devoid of hair and covered with ritual scars. Yes, scars. Some natural philosophers will swear by their mentors’ souls that trolls cannot have scars because of their regenerative powers; this is usually true, but the fire-cultists have figured out how to get past that hurdle. Metal tools are heated until they are at least red hot, then the scar-patterns are traced upon the skin of converts by senior members. The first scarification ritual lasts about 36 straight hours. Those who try to recant their conversion become impromptu sacrifices destined to be slowly burnt to death.

Fire-cultists sacrifice a variety of offerings to their strange patron via immolation: Books, oil, cloth, animals, people. However, they especially seek to capture normal trolls alive and slowly roast them to death. Fire-cultists consider this to be the form of offering most pleasing to their master. They also don’t mind a bit of arson every now and then, especially when they’re leaving an area to find a new lair. Aside from the dangers of arson, their predation of common trolls also causes problems because it strengthens the power of local orcs, goblinoids, or ogres. 

Despite all this, the strangest fact of the fire-cultists is this: Something has answered them. Fire halves the potency of their regeneration instead of negating it. Many a foolhardy adventurer or troll has charged against fire-cultists expecting a quick flaming victory only to find himself on the sacrificial pyre.

As for the identity of their mysterious benefactor none can say; the fire-cultists don’t even seem clear on that themselves. They general refer to their deity as “The Devouring Flame” or “The Fire That Ends The World” but sages have been unable to connect these titles to any known extraplanar powers.

Why Elves can't be Clerics

A while back I was arguing that it’s silly that so many people (especially fans of D&D 3.x/Pathfinder) are fine with “monster classes” but that Elf-as-class is somehow absolute madness. I was rebutted by a guy telling me that “Elves aren’t weird aliens. Are you telling me that elves don’t have clerics or thieves?” So here I am, telling you why Elves can’t be clerics (I might go into thieves later). Don’t think this means that I think that race-as-class is the end-all, be-all of D&Desque games; there’s a place at the table for an Elf Cleric, a Dwarf, and a Dragonborn Psionicist. Consider it an exercise in rules-driven world-building.

First, we need to consider why human clerics would exist in the setting. In D&D & Derivatives, Clerics are equipped with abilities to:

-Heal

-Cure diseases

-Remove curses

-Fight Undead

Next, let’s look at why a cleric would be important to humans. Humans both fictional and real are always worrying about mortality, which makes someone who cures diseases and heals wounds desirable. On the flipside, there are some human-exclusive curses (AD&D 1e lycanthropes) and undead are mainly spawned from humans (AD&D 2e wraith, older versions of vampires). So there’s a thread of reasoning that suggests that humans generally need clerics around, both to help the living and keep the dead peaceful.

Now let’s look at those clerics abilities in relationship to elves. Are they really that worried about mortality? If they’re long-lived like Tolkienesque and Gygaxian elves then probably not. They got through the first 100 years of their life without any of this magical healing and they can get through the next 500 just as easily (or at least, that’s what the elf thinks when he’s in elf territory). There aren’t any particular curses that necessitate a dedicated curse-remover and the only undead spawned from elves are basically just wyrds so they don’t need undead-hunters.

This also brings up a point about the relationship between gods and mortals. Did human “invent” or “discover” a way to become clerics? Did the gods approach humans and just drop this knowledge into their laps? Why is such magic, which is almost universally helpful to all humans, limited to a select few of them? It almost suggests that humans are actually terrified of the gods; that’s why they have a designated group (clerics) to deal with all that divine stuff while everyone else lives their lives. Therefore there might be another reason for elves to not have clerics, which is that their psychology cannot adapt the necessary way of thinking to access clerical magic. Perhaps humans view the gods as humans imbued with cosmic power, like nobles elevated to the Nth degree, mostly uncaring, rarely benevolent, and often malevolent; entities to be appeased, emulated, and feared. Meanwhile, elves may see the gods as elves who have reached a state of sublime perfection; entities to be emulated, but not appeased or feared.

Body, Bone, Soul: Necromancy in Tarfel

Two posts in one day! I better pace myself or I'll collapse from exhaustion. Truth is I've got a minor backlog of 21-ish posts at completion levels ranging from 0% to 25%. I try to knock out one every so often.

Carnomancy

Carnomancy is the magic of the flesh. It makes wounds heal or fester, it restores withered limbs or makes healthy ones rot on the body. Carnomancy is the most common form of healing magic and also the least restricted.  Carnomancers are also employed as animal and monster trainers, using magic to sharpen or dull some biological responses; they are also sometimes found working as torturers or loansharks, able to mete out and heal injuries. Carnomancers with an interest in undead can animate dead flesh, creating stereotypical zombies. Such zombies are sluggish because the magic coursing through them only animates their flesh, not their bones; without a skeleton to support it, undead flesh is limited to a slug-like locomotion. Needless to say, such activities are not well-regarded both for their desecration of the dead and the risk of disease.

Osseomancy

Osseomancy is the magic of bones. It restores bones to their original condition, reshapes them and strengthens them, or warps into instruments of torture or violence. Ossemancers in civilized lands mainly work as bonesetters and surgeons. Like Carnomancers, some Osseomancers get involved in seedier business relations but they demand higher pay than Carnomancers. Their cost makes criminal Osseomancers somewhat of a novelty. The stereotypical undead created by Osseomancers are magically animated skeletons of all kinds. In most civilizations, Ossemancers make a point of avoiding the animation of humanoid remains, preferring to animate animal skeletons. Skeletons never cause as much panic as a zombie but they aren't exactly popular either.

Animancy

Animancy is the magic of souls. It alone is the only component of Grand Necromancy that is nigh-universally outlawed, hated, and feared. Animancers manipulate souls, changing personalities, imposing terrible curses or dubious blessings, and denying souls their eternal rest by turning them into monstrous spirit-things. Wraiths are one of the many vile creations of Animancy.

Least Necromancy

Least Necromancy is the most common form of "True" Necromancy. Least Necromancers have a knowledge of both Carnomancy and Osseomancy as well as mundane sciences such as surgery and medicine. Least Necromancers rarely tend to be the types who raise an army of undead or what have you; they tend to operate openly as healers and secretly use undead they create as servants, orderlies, and test subjects for treatments that are too dangerous or illegal to practice on living people. The only dark side of the Least Necromancers is that they need bodies for all those assistants and test subjects. They acquire them most often by grave-robbing, although some don't mind murder either. Greater Zombies (or Fast Zombies as the unimaginative call them) are an example of a Least Necromancer's craft.

Lesser Necromancy

Lesser Necromancy is generally what people are thinking of when they hear "Necromancy". Lesser Necromancers know Animancy and either Osseomancy or Carnomancy, but never both. Lesser Necromancers can (and do) create small armies of undead. Because they taint Carnomantic and Osseomantic magic with Animantic elements, most undead they create tend to possess an instinctual hatred of the living and kill them whenever possible. Lesser Necromancers who master Animancy and Ossoemancy may eventually transform themselves into Liches; those who pursue Animancy and Carnomancy tend to create monstrosities such as the Blood and Flesh "Elementals".

Grand Necromancy

If Lesser Necromancy is the popular face of the discipline in the eye of the public, Grand Necromancy is the popular (and most feared) face of Necromancy among Mages. Grand Necromancers unify Animancy, Carnomancy, and Osseomancy in a terrible synthesis. While Least Necromancers tend to be eccentrics and Lesser Necromancers are little more than local nuisances, Grand Necromancers can topple entire kingdoms. Thankfully, few individuals are focused and skilled enough to master all three of this discipline's components and so they are thankfully rare. Grand Necromancers can create exceptionally powerful undead such as Mohrgs, Mummies, and Vampires.

Shapeshifter Personalities

Anyway, I've got some "new" ideas for you guys. These personalities are general descriptors of how shapeshifters interact with non-shapeshifters in their territory. All are based on multiple "skinwalker" stories popular on certain imageboards. As such, they're more suitable for types of shapeshifters that live in the wilderness (mainly Fey creatures in D&D terms) as opposed to more urban shapeshifters like Mimics or D&D Doppelgangers. The images are ones that I felt fit the general concepts I'm presenting and they come from magiccards.info, a website I highly recommend.

Precocious

Most shapeshifters are at first just truly curious about the strange new creatures that enter their domain. Precocious shapeshifters tend to copy the appearance of a non-shapeshifter and then interact with an individual or the group. They will sometimes temporarily incapacitate the person they are mimicking but they tend not to. When the shapeshifter's trickery is discovered, it will quickly flee. Precocious shapeshifters will avoid combat if at all possible.


Helpful

A few Precocious shapeshifters with enough self-awareness and empathy will eventually develop a Helpful personality. Such shapeshifters help those who travel through their territory by indicating dangers, food, water, and good campsites. Helpful shapeshifters may have good intentions but they are not always well-equipped to communicate with passerbys because they often have an incomplete understanding of common languages. Additionally, Helpful shapeshifters loathe direct mimicry, instead preferring to create a unique shape based on a combination of many individuals. Because of their ignorance, these form can end up quite strange and disconcerting, like a male Dwarf's head on a Human woman's body. Helpful shapeshifters will help their charges in combat and flee if their charges attack them, but they will rarely hold grudges.


Mischievous

For some Precocious shapeshifters, the fear and desperation that non-shapeshifters feel in reaction to their activities becomes intoxicating. These Mischievous shapeshifters engineer situations to agitate and frighten non-shapeshifters as much as possible, often given rise to legends of haunted or cursed woods. Despite their apparent sadism, Mischievous shapeshifters rarely plan or execute plans that may be lethal to their victims. They reason that too many deaths may scare potential prey away and so rein in some of their more destructive impulses.


Malevolent

Some of the Mischievous eventually grow tired of non-lethal pranks; sometimes they merely seek a stronger and more exquisite form of fear. Other times they find the color of their victims' blood and the taste of their flesh to be even more intoxicating than fear. Almost as often, a Precocious or Helpful suffers great harm from a non-shapeshifter and settles into a vengeful demeanor. All these possibilities can create Malevolent shapeshifters. Malevolents always try to kill. Some do so slowly and methodically, relishing the fear they produce in their victims. Others kill quickly, rampaging through campsites and killing as many as possible before escaping into the night.

Genies & Indians: The Caliph, Khan, and Sultan

Back when I was an undergraduate, one of the courses I took was a history of early modern India. In case you're wondering, it's a time period that stretches from the foundation of the Delhi Sultanate to about the point when Europeans started seizing provinces. I was reading some of the AD&D entries for Noble Genies and something clicked in my head with them and the tidbits I remembered about Mughal Emperors and Delhi Sultans.

The Great Caliph of the Djinn

The Caliph is a blend of two Mughal Emperors, Akbar and Shah Jahan. He is even-handed and treats his subjects well, even if they are not Djinn. He is mighty in war but prefers to engage with the arts and philosophies. He is greatly beloved by non-Djinn who serve him. At the same time, some of his Nobles doubt him. Would it not be best for the Caliph of the Djinn to place above others? Is elevating "lesser" beings to the same level as Djinn not the same thing as degrading the Djinn? Is he truly seeking an agenda of peace or is he creating a status quo where he is the master and all others are slaves? His unwillingness to discuss such issues and his half-hidden alliance (or subservience) to Chan, the Elemental Princess of Air, causes much worry among the Caliph's Djinn subjects.

The Great Khan of the Dao

The Khan is Muhammad Tughluq as viewed through Ibn Battuta's memoirs. He is sometimes beneficent, sometimes malevolent, but always dangerous. Seriously, go read Battuta's accounts of the bribery and corruption of the Tughluq court and then read about how the Khan's court acts. The Khan is someone to be greatly feared. His subjects constantly try to strike a balance where they overachieve just enough to seem diligent but enough that they seem ambitious, lest they be executed.

The Sultan of the Efreet

The Sultan is quite like Aurangzeb. He is harsh, he is tyrannical, he looks with scorn upon his non-Efreeti subjects. Yet he is also very reliable, unlike the fickle Khan. His subjects know that once they receive a law from the Sultan it won't change, both for better or worse. He is also popular among a moderate portion of Efreeti due to his proactive stance on many issues ranging from commerce to war. On the other hand, many Efreeti and non-Efreeti rebel against him, either supporting the former Sultan (who was not quite as racist or heavy-handed as the current one) or their own right to self-rule.
Unfortunately, his constant war efforts have severely taxed his treasury and with each passing day it becomes harder and harder to keep his subjects obedient.

Earth-3 Project: Timeline of 20th-Century Earth

Here’s a brief timeline of relevant recent events on Earth-3. Expect other timeline posts covering other subjects (like the distant past and potential futures) but this a roadmap for both y’all and I. Red links will eventually lead to other posts as I type up the relevant material.

1930s: Exposed to ancient magic, strange chemicals, and all other sorts of weird substances, men and women across the world gain strange and terrifying powers. Initially called “mutant-humans”, the term later developed into “muta-humans”. Most muta-humans used their powers for crime, hoping to live like kings and queens amidst the terrible Great Depression. But a few, like the mysterious Guardian, used their powers to punish crime instead of commit it.

1940: To avoid all-out war, coordinate crimes, and foster cooperation for bigger heists, the Crime Lodge of America is formed.

1941-1945: After the attack on Pearl Harbor, President Roosevelt contacted the CLA requesting their aid in the war effort. Motivated by greed, racism, and a small amount of patriotism, the CLA accepts on condition that they are pardoned for all their crimes. World War II ended in an allied victory.

1946-1960: Content with the loot and public admiration they gained from their patriotism, the CLA degrades into little more than a country club for retired muta-criminals. Their “amazing heists” become infrequent and outlandish spectacles done more for attention than for wealth.

1966: In an alley in Gotham City, a mugger kills Martha and Bruce Wayne. Thomas Wayne sr. and Thomas Wayne jr. survive the attack but scarred by this event.

1973: Thomas Wayne jr. abandons his father and begins his journey into the criminal underworld.

1974: A mysterious magic ring is discovered by a marine named Stewart Johnson in an ancient temple Vietnam. For a solid week the mysterious new Power Ring manages to turn the tide against the Viet Cong until he collapses dead, apparently from exhaustion and dehydration. A crashed USAF pilot named Martin Harrolds recovers (but does not don) the ring and takes it back to the United States.

1982: Thomas Wayne jr. returns to Gotham as Owlman and begins a campaign of petty vengeance against his father, who has now become the mayor.

1986: An unidentified object enters the atmosphere and crashes in Kansas. Besides the impact crater there are no clues as to the nature of its source. Meanwhile, Lt. Clark Kent of the USAF and four others test a spaceship equipped with a new experimental engine. Something goes catastrophically wrong and all the crew are presumed dead.

1988: Now both more and less than he was before, Clark Kent returns to Earth. Conscious of the passage of time and fearful of how his parents will react to his strange new powers, he settles into a life of anonymity

1989: After reading Nietzsche and several books on the CLA, Clark Kent re-styles himself as the Ultraman. Meanwhile, Joseph Harrolds inherits a strange ring from his dead father’s estate and becomes the new Power Ring.

1990: Concerned with the sudden appearance of muta-criminals, the governments of the world begin several covert projects dedicated to containing muta-human threats, particularly Checkmate and Project Cadmus.

1991: Mary Batson is visited by a mysterious being calling itself “The Super-Power”. She becomes Superwoman.

1992: Owlman, Power Ring, Superwoman, and Ultraman band together to form the Crime Syndicate of America. Elsewhere and to little fanfare, John Garrick discovers a “super-speed drug” that enables creatures to move at exceptional rates of speed. Billionaire industrialist and philanthropist Alexander Luthor begins assembling a group tentatively named “Justice Underground” to oppose the CSA.

1993: Unable to secure funding or subjects for his super-speed drug, John Garrick tires it on himself. Under the influence of the drug and inspired by the recent exploits of the CSA, he adopts the muta-criminal persona of Johnny Quick. Meanwhile, the Crime Lodge of America reforms with a mix of botrh new and old members to cash in on the CSA’s popularity. In Europe, muta-criminals band together under the banner of the Crime Syndicate of Europe.

1994: Johnny Quick is inducted into the CSA, quickly rising to expand the “Big Four” into a “Big Five”. In Asia, the operations of both the CSA and the CSE are sabotage by a mysterious group calling itself The Greater East Asian Co-Delinquency Sphere.

1995: Joseph Harrolds successfully manages to convince a young man to take his cursed ring. Todd Scott becomes the new Power Ring. The CSA, CSE, and Sphere enter into an unsteady cold war as they try to contain each other and the innumerable splinters of the Justice Underground movement

1996: The current year.

Why 1996? Well, mainly because I like that era of DC comics. It also makes the history pretty tight: Seven years is enough time for the new crop of muta-criminals to impact the world in notable ways without impacting it too much. In fact, most of the "big events" of Earth-3 don't actually start happening until 1992 when the CSA itself forms.

Maztica Bestiary: Giants

I haven't even completed a single part of one project and I'm already going to start another one. What an absolute madman I am! Incidentally, it seems like my capeshit posts aren't as popular as my D&D stuff. It's an interesting peek into the demographic of my regular readers.

Anyway, if you flip around in one of the books of the Maztica box set (don't ask me which one, I just use the ancient PDF copy that Wizards of The Coast had available for free in the bygone aeons of the thrice-and-one-half-accursed 3.5 era), you'll see a list of monsters that are supposedly suitable for use in the Maztica setting. Pic related:

So every once in a while I'll select some relevant and thematically cohesive monsters and detail how the Maztican counterparts differ from your standard Monstrous Compendium versions in fluff/lore . You will of course need the Monstrous Compendium to use any rule information presented here. Before I continue, I must admit that I really don't give a shit if I contradict the greater "canon" of either Maztica or the Forgotten Realms. In fact, I hate a lot of the canon. The notEuropeans coming over and krumping the notAztecs is one of the absolute worst concepts of Maztica. The absolute worst is using 9-point alignment (ba-dum-tssh). I'm still going to touch on the Maztican "present" but don't expect me to be happy about it. Let's get this show on the road.

Fire Giants

In ancient ruins of basalt and obsidian, a dying race make their homes. These are the Fire Giants of Maztica, called the "Sons of Tezca" or "Fire Children" in the native tongues. Centuries before the ancient empire of the Payit began its meteoric rise, the Fire Giants were struck with a mysterious plague that ravaged their population. The Fire Giants attributed the plague to their god, an aspect of Tezca; the Humans attributed it to Qotal. In any case, the Fire Giants have been slowly inching toward death ever since.

Maztican Fire Giants resemble standard Fire Giants except that they look slightly sickly and frail compared to their standard counterparts. They allow their hair to grow long; males sometimes have mustaches but they cannot grow beards. Because of the impact of the plague and malnutrition, Maztican Fire Giants only have 14 Hit Dice and their Strength bonus is +8.

Fire Giants mainly stick to their lonely ruined cities which are located near volcanic areas or in jungles with high quantities of volcanic soil. They raid Humans very rarely, mainly to carry off food.

Maztican Fire Giants speak their own language separate from standard Fire Giants. They can understand the languages of nearby (within 10 miles) native groups 50% of the time and the common tongue of all Giants 70% of the time. Fire Giants tend to be grim and fatalistic. The only topics that interest them are their race's past, the immediate future (mainly what to eat), local news, and stories about Fire Giants in other lands.

Maztican Fire Giants have lost (or perhaps never discovered) the arts of metallurgy, leatherworking, and even clothes-making. If they wear clothes at all they are always smelly loincloths of poorly cured and stitched hide or leather. As such, they only have AC 5. Their preferred weapons are slabs of obsidian, basalt, or other stone that deal the same damage as a standard Fire Giant's weapon (2d10, or 2d10+8 total).

Because of their declining population, a group of Fire Giants in its lair only numbers 11-16 (1d6+10) instead of the usual amount, and children only comprise one third of these groups as opposed the usual one-half.

The Fire Giants still worship an aspect of Tezca, although these trying times have diminished much of their faith. There is only a 10% chance of any band having a spellcaster, who will always be a shaman. Unlike standard Fire Giant shamans, their Maztican counterparts may only be priests of up to 3rd level. Maztican Fire Giants make sure that whenever they hunt they always catch at least two creatures; one is eaten while the other (usually the scrawnier or worse of the two - they have a healthy sense of pragmatism) is sacrificed to their god via immolation in either fire or lava.

The lairs of Maztican Fire Giants never contain Hellhounds, Trolls, or Red Dragons. If you are playing in the "present day" of Maztica then a band of 30 or more Maztican Fire Giants has a 30% chance of having 2-5 (1d4+1) Ogres in their lair, although these guests often end up as either food or sacrifices.

Hill Giants

Unlike their Fire Giant brethren, the Hill Giants of Maztica do quite well. Commonly known as "Painted Gluttons", Maztican Hill Giants are much more aggressive than their standard counterparts and launch uncoordinated but frequent raids on the smaller peoples of the True World.

Maztican Hill Giants look the same as regular Hill Giants except for two key aspects: First, they almost never wear clothes; second, their bodies are always covered with with brilliantly-colored warpaint. The Hill Giants believe that warpaint offers supernatural protection from harm. It actually does do so, giving Maztican Hill Giants AC 3. Unfortunately, their strange warpaints have no effect on non-Hill Giants and they know this. Because of their lack of clothes they don't carry bags like standard Hill Giants; their possessions are back in the caves or huts that they live in.

Maztican Hill Giants have their own language distinct from that of standard Hill Giants. They can understand the languages of nearby (within 30 miles) native groups 30% of the time and the common tongue of all Giants 50% of the time. Hill Giants tend to be easily bored unless the discussion is about battle, food, big monsters, or their hated enemies (Ogres and Jagres).

Maztican Hill Giants mainly worship a destructive aspect of Plutoq and a predatory aspect of Nula; their myths paint Hill Giants as the children of these two gods. They consider non-Hill Giant worshipers of these gods to be blasphemers. They also practice ritual cannibalism, eating the heart of related or allied warrior who died in battle; they believe that this transfers the deceased's bravery, skill, and luck to themselves. Rival groups of Hill Giants will often try to steal the hearts of each other's dead warriors, either directly or indirectly via manipulated Humans.

A Maztican Hill Giant lair only has a chance of having 2-8 (2d4) Dire Wolves or 1-3 (1d6/2) Giant Lizards (it's 50/50 likelihood between the two types). Their lairs never have Ogres; they consider these creatures to be imperfect mockeries of themselves and kill them mercilessly when they find them. Hill Giants will even aid the smaller peoples of Maztica if they can be convinced that there will be a significant chance of being able to kill Ogres and Jagres. The skin or pelt of a Jagre worn as a cape or mantle is one of the only articles of clothing a Hill Giant will ever wear.

My take on Bugbears

I'm running a solo D&Desque game right now for a player new to all this weird nerd shit. Because he has no preconceptions of what a number of monsters "should" be, I've taken the opportunity to reflavor some of the classic monster races into versions that I prefer. So Orcs are green-skinned pig-men, Kobolds are rat-badger-dog folk, and Bugbears are actually bear people. And I want to talk about those Bugbears.


Ask anyone who the most hated enemy of the Elves is and everyone, even Elves themselves, will say it's the Orcs. Ask an Elf what enemy they fear the most and they'll hesitantly tell you about Bugbears. When the world was young, Elves were innocent and ignorant of magic, and Humans didn't even exist, the Bugbears were around. If you believe the Elves, Bugbears were a hundred-foot tall Giants who ate whole villages of Elves. It was only with the gift of magic, stolen from the Elvish gods by a reckless warrior, that the Elves vanquished the Bugbears. Unfortunately for the Elves, the victory wasn't a total one.

The rarely-seen Bugbears are 8-foot tall humanoid bears with fur that resembles green moss. Although they have the same general proportions as normal bears, the general structure of their skeletons is optimized for bipedal activity. In fact, much like Humans and Elves, they find going on all fours to be a very awkward experience. A Bugbear's hand is about five inches wide and equally as long; its fingers are about as long as a Humans but twice as thick. Instead of fingernails, Bugbears have two-inch long jet-black claws. These claws are very sharp and Bugbears are very strong; they therefore tend to treat most weapons they acquire as jewelry.

Despite their size and claws, Bugbears are truly dangerous because of two reasons: Their intellect and their almost magical skills of stealth.

Among most adventurers, there's a number of shorthand rules that emerge: "Smaller monsters are more likely to attack in groups"; "Ghost can only be hurt by magic"; and "The bigger a monster is, the dumber it is." That final truism certainly has a bit of anecdotal weight, as shown by Orcs and Ogres. Firm adherents to this saying will dismiss counterexamples of Stone Giants and Dragons as exceptions that prove the rules. There's an idea that the more animalistic a monster is, the more dull-witted it is. Therefore, the inexperienced often dismiss the Bugbear as a dumb brute because of its size and appearance. This is often a fatal mistake. Bugbears are more intelligent than the average Human and are quick improvisers; monster-hunters who think they've got an iron-clad plan for catching a dumb beast are in for a rude awakening.

As for their stealth, Bugbears can even sneak up on an Elf doing guard duty. Despite being 8-foot tall green bear-people, Bugbears make very little sound unless they wish to be heard. Twigs don't snap and footfalls don't echo until they're inches away from their prey. For a Human peasant near Bugbear territory, death can come before they even notice that a Bugbear is right next to them.

Despite this, Bugbears are actually the least destructive of all the Goblinoid races. Yes, they kill and eat peasants, steal food, and often frame other creatures (particularly Elves) but they do this at a much lower frequency than their cousins. Bugbears even form treaties with certain Humans; Bugbears hunt and eat bandits, the bandits' loot is turned over to town authorities, and the town gives Bugbears foodstuffs and miscellaneous goods. Naturally, overzealous adventurers who discover these agreements tend to cause trouble by painting it as some grand conspiracy to undermine the kingdom, so such arrangements are kept secret by both the Bugbears and their allies.

Bugbears aren't very numerous; the average band/tribe is only about a dozen strong, with only about 20% or so of the group being children. Bugbears mature at 5 years of age and can live for up to 100 years. Bugbears have their own language, Bugbearish. Most tribes have a 60% chance to have someone who speaks a dialect of Goblin. Bugbearish has no traditional written form; Bugbears who want to record permanent information do so by phonetically rendering words using Goblin characters. Bugbears have a very respected oral tradition and look favorable on members of other races who share stories with them.

As a counterpoint to the story that Elves tell, Bugbears insist that their ancient forebears were actually trying to practice "tough love" with Elves. They say that Elves were (and are) ignorant animals trying to imitate plants. The Bugbears were trying to show the Elves that they should imitate animals, especially predators. They consider the efforts of the ancestors to have been a failure and that Elves are a lost cause. However Bugbears are usually quite amused to learn about the "hundred-foot tall Giants who ate whole villages of Elves" bit of the old Elf myths.

Rethinking Hobgoblins

I think it's safe to say that when most RPG players hear the word "Hobgoblin" they tend to visualize something that boils down to "a Goblin but bigger and with decent equipment". If we're mapping out an equivalency between Lord of The Rings and Dungeons & Dragons then Hobgoblins are the Uruk-hai to Goblins' Orcs (as an aside, I suspect that Bugbears are based the Olog-hai).
Of course, that isn't what Hobgoblins were like folklore (at least according to wikipedia):

Hobgoblins seem to be small, hairy little men who—like their close relative, brownies—are often found within human dwellings, doing odd jobs around the house while the family is lost in sleep. Such chores are typically small deeds, like dusting and ironing. Often, the only compensation necessary in return for these is food.
While brownies are more peaceful creatures, hobgoblins are more fond of practical jokes. They also seem to be able to shape-shift, as seen in one of Puck's monologues in A Midsummer Night's Dream. Robin Goodfellow is perhaps the most mischievous and most infamous of all his kind, but many are less antagonizing. Like all of the fae folk, hobgoblins are easily annoyed. They can be mischievous, frightening, and even dangerous.^[3] Attempts to give them clothing will often banish them forever, though whether they take offense to such gifts or are simply too proud to work in new clothes differs from teller to teller.

While certainly an interesting take, hairy little housekeepers aren't exactly prime material for most fantasy campaigns. At the same time, the militaristic Goblin jocks are a bit too overexposed. As an alternative, I present the Hobgoblins from Magic: The Gathering's Shadowmoor block:

Fair warning, I haven't been able to read the novels so the precise details might be off, I'm just going by what's on the cards. Shadowmoor's Hobgoblins are related to the setting's Goblins (who in terms of behavior are basically D&D Orcs). But they live in cozy cottages and pursue agrarian existences. So this is tying back into that domestic angle while also homaging Tolkienesque Hobbit/Halfling lifestyles. At the same time, they still have a sinister edge to them, as the flavor text for Hearthfire Hobgoblin (pictured above) states:

Hobgoblins are best left alone. They sharpen their farm implements far more than is necessary for their work in the fields.

 So behind this idyllic Shire-esque surface there's something dangerous, something murderous. But still, despite their seeming homicidal tendencies they don't seem to bother anyone who doesn't bother them. But look at the flavor text for Rugged Prairie:

Hobs bury their kin far from home. They believe the dry, open ground keeps hags from stealing the bones and gwyllions from stealing the spirits.

So what happens if a party of adventurers or Joe the peasant stumbles onto a Hob funeral? What happens when a Human village starts expanding out into Hob burial grounds? Sounds like an interesting potential encounter.

Extracting these Hobs from their native setting, think about how they could fit in to a "Traditonal" Fantasy setting. How are Hob-Halfling relations? What about Hobgoblin-Goblins relations? Are the Hobs ultimately just a weird off-shoot of Goblins or are they the product of Human-Goblin/Halfling-Goblin/Hobbit-Goblin pairings?

The last idea to consider is a bit more radical: Give Halflings the boot and replace them with Hobs. If the Short Guy PC race is composed of rustic axe-murderers instead of rustic thieves then it changes the flavor of the setting to something more sinister.

Death Dogs for Heroes & Other Worlds

[ Dog Barking ]

"Death dogs are large two-headed hounds which are distinguished by their penetrating double bark. Death dogs hunt in large packs. [. . .] There is an 85% chance that death dogs will attack humans on sight." - AD&D Monstrous Compendium Volume One

"Death Dogs are ruthless predators. Those who travel in their territory learn to listen for the double bark bark that heralds a pack's approach." - D&D 3.0 Fiend Folio

"Death dogs are two-headed, mastiff-like hounds, nocturnal killing machines that hunt their prey without hesitation across the desert sands and wastelands. Death dog packs have been known to share territory with little friction, although they do engage in dominance battles in leaner times when hunting is difficult." - Tome of Horrors Complete

Death Dog # Encountered: 1 or 1D12 ST: 13 DX:10 IQ:4 EN: 0 MV: 7 Behavior: Agressive (14) Habitat: Any warm desert, hill, plains, or underground. AR: -1 (Natural Armor) DM:1D10 (bites) SP: Disease TR: 0 Disease: A non-Death Dog creature dealt damage by a Death Dog's bites must make a 3/ST test or contract a terrible rotting disease. Every day the afflicted creature's total EN decreases by 1D2; if this would reduce EN to less than 0, apply the reduction to ST instead. This disease can only be cured by magic. At the GM's discretion any Cure spell (see Magi Carta) has a 50% chance to cure this disease.

Cats of Chaos

I've got some ideas I had for a setting (not Tarfel but yet another unfinished setting that's even less developed). The setting is based on Egyptian and Mesopotamian mythology
The idea is that there is a Law (relatively good) versus Chaos (relatively evil) conflict here with the sun god and his wife on the side of law and the cat-god of chaos on the side of chaos (SHOCKING TRUTH!). There are other animalistic/totemic gods that exist in a precarious middle ground between the two camps but I'll detail those later. This god has few worshipers because of its destructive nature but its able to create and command many servitors in the mortal world. What follows is brief overview of its most prominent servants.

 Picture sort of related

Ahharu 

The Ahharu are mortals, usually cannibals, who have been given the ability to change into a monstrous version of themselves: When they transform, their muscles bulge, their hair becomes mane-like, their eyes become like a cat's, and their teeth become wicked fangs. Their only weakness is that they cannot assume their monstrous form except between sunset and sunrise.

Djinn

The Djinn are sowers of chaos, using their power to grant wishes to destabilize society. Djinn closely resemble Humans but they are much larger (generally 8 feet tall), they have cat-eyes, and their finger and toe nails are instead shiny black claws. Djinn meddle with mortals not because of some cosmic mission but because of sadistic voyeurism. Occasionally a Djinn will bestow a measure of his or her own power upon a mortal, turning that person into a Sahira.

Lamia

The Lamia are simply murderers. Unlike the Djinn (who enjoy the comedy of errors mortals put on) or the Sphinxes (who enjoy mortal flattery), Lamia hate all mortals and desire only their destruction.
Sometimes they attack blatantly and other times they act more subtly but their motivation is always the same. Lamia have the upper body of an exceptionally attractive mortal woman and the lower body a great cat.

Sahira (Witch) 

Sometimes a Djinn finds a mortal with deep emotional troubles or an overriding obsession. To these they gift the power of magic, turning them into Sahira. The motivations behind a Sahira's actions vary from revenge, greed, or even atonement but they are unstable enough to make them dangerous regardless of their reasoning.

Sphinx

Sphinxes are the only servitors of the chaos god that aren't considered wholly evil. Local populations treat these scholar-demons with a mix of fear and pious respect. Sphinxes are incredibly intelligent and have divination abilities that make them much-sought as oracles. Sphinxes don't perform these services for free: They demand treasure in exchange for their services, not because such treasure has value to them but because they recognize the importance of treasure in mortal society and the respect it brings. Sphinxes have the bodies of great cats with the chests and heads of Humans and a pair of hawk-like wings on their backs.