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brain-leakage-blog · 5 years
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DM Lessons: Working with What Your Players Want to See
Below is a photo from our last D&D session. Yes, that's a giant frog on the table. The hair elastic around its neck is a lasso, and the miniature on its back represents one of the PC's riding her newly tamed gargantuan monster, and now I'm questioning all of my life choices as a DM...
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Joking aside, that picture represents something any DM who wants to keep his or her players engaged needs to consider: what type of fantasy stories have your players been consuming prior to sitting down at your table?
Case in point: I'm a big fan of the pulpy, Weird Tales type fantasy that makes up most of Gary Gygax's famous Appendix N. As such, my campaign's cosmology is ripped straight from Michael Moorcock. My game's elves owe more to his doomed Melnibonéans than to Tolkien's ethereal forest dwellers. I like Vancian Magic. One of my players is currently under a curse inspired by an unfinished Robert E. Howard fragment.
In other words, I sit down to the DMs chair with some pre-loaded assumptions and preferences about the flavor of fantasy I want to imitate in-game.
What most newbie DMs forget is that the players sit down with a similar set of assumptions and preferences. They're looking to experience a certain flavor of fantasy, too. And the success of the game depends heavily on whether or not those flavors are compatible.
For example, one of my campaigns was loosely based around the Crusades, set in a world where most of the Arthurian Myth cycle was historically verified fact. It was a great fit, because I had players that had been reading Ivanhoe and Le Mort de Arthur playing alongside devoted fans of Marion Zimmer Bradley's Mists of Avalon series. 
Another group I ran enjoyed Dante's Inferno, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and Steven Brust's brilliant novel To Reign in Hell. I crafted a game where the PCs had all died on the Prime Material Plane and had to adventure through the Nine Hells, which I populated with snarky, sarcastic demons and modern pop-culture references.
So, what about my current game? How closely do my assumptions match up with theirs?
Short answer: not at all. I'm not just the only one who's been reading Howard, Moorcock, and Vance recently. I'm the only one who's read them at all. 
So, what have my players been consuming that I haven't? And more importantly, how did I work that into the game to keep them satisfied and engaged?
First up is my wife, Vanessa. While not much of a fiction reader, she absolutely loves visual works of fantasy. She's an avid fan of artists like Brian Froud and Daniel Merriam. Two of her all-time favorite movies are The Princess Bride and Labyrinth. In short, she prefers a light, whimsical take on the fantasy genre, and when our friends proposed a D&D group, her first question was "Can I play a fairy?"
I did some research, looking for a homebrew race that would be somewhat B/X compatible. I ended up using a variation of the half-pixie Phaerim, detailed in R. Kevin Smoot's New Races: A Basic Fantasy Supplement. Since B/X uses race-as-class, I decided to run her as a winged Halfling, for purposes of level advancement and saving throws. 
The other two players in the group are another married couple, Leah and Aaron. While they've both read the standard genre classics like Lord of the Rings and Harry Potter, a huge part of their recent fantasy intake has been in anime and manga form. In particular, they're both fans of isekai shows like That Time I Got Reincarnated as a Slime and Overlord. 
That anime influence was obvious less than halfway through the first session, with the sheer number of called shots and crazy maneuvers both of them attempted in each combat encounter. The problem is that B/X D&D doesn't really support that style of combat, at least not when using Rules as Written. On one hand, the players' options tend to be more open, since not much is spelled out in the rules. The flip side is that the players' power level is pretty low. 
The likeliest result? Lots of dead PCs, and a table full of players who take fewer risks with their newly-rolled replacement characters. And while that gels perfectly with my gritty, Appendix N-flavored sword and sorcery style, it's not really what the players sat down wanting to experience.
In other words, I had to do some adjusting.
One of the first things I did was bump the characters' power level. I introduced the optional Cantrips list from The Basic Fantasy Roleplaying Game, so Leah's Elf could cast more than one spell per day. I also introduced some optional combat maneuvers for Aaron's fighter, like a once per combat Shield Bash that does no damage, but knocks a human sized opponent prone on a successful strike.  
I also entirely re-vamped the game's combat mechanic, which I'll detail in an upcoming post.
The last thing I did was more of a situational call:
When the PCs were crossing a marshland via an ancient causeway, I had them encounter a pair of giant frogs. But instead of my little plastic pogs marking the monsters' position, someone grabbed that stuffed frog off the shelf and dropped it on the mat. 
I quickly changed the encounter to one gargantuan frog, which (based on the stuffed animal's cuteness) my wife's character immediately decided that the party needed to tame. Everyone else was instantly on board with the idea.
I could do one of two things at that point: run it as a standard combat encounter, forcing the players into a fight they didn't really want. Or find a way for them to try it their way. 
Looking over Leah's spell list, I quietly scribbled out the word "person" next to her first level Charm spell.
"This is now an all-purpose Charm," I said. "It still doesn't work on undead or magical creatures. But anything in nature is susceptible. Including giant animals."
If you could only have seen the smiles around that table, folks. 
What followed was a zany, over-the-top combat encounter, in which the PC's weakened the frog enough to lasso it, rode along as it dove into the water and tried to swim away, and then climbed up onto its head in order to look it in the eye and cast Charm.
In other words, it was pretty much the polar opposite of the gritty, sword and sorcery-inspired combat encounter I'd had in mind. My players couldn't have been happier.
As their DM, neither could I.
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brain-leakage-blog · 5 years
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Midnight beach discovery.
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brain-leakage-blog · 5 years
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The Sword and Sorcery Rosetta Stone
Sword an sorcery is a genre that's devilishly hard to define. Ask ten people to lay out their personal guidelines for what is and isn't S&S, and you're likely to get twelve different answers. 
Examples are easier to come up with, if somewhat less helpful. And like definitions, you're rarely going to get many people that agree. Sure, some examples are more-or less a given. Robert E. Howard's Conan. Fritz Leiber's Fafhrd and Gray Mouser. Michael Moorcock's Elric. But disagreement tends to crop up when people throw up examples outside that established core.
In an old SF Signal Mind Meld, several writers were asked to define what "sword and sorcery" meant to them. Answers were, predictably, all over the board, most of them boiling down to lists of common tropes. But the first answer came from Michael Moorcock himself, and it touched on something elemental:
"Basically I see it as a good old-fashioned sword and sandal or cloak and dagger drama with strong supernatural elements. Captain Blood meets Cthulhu." 
Folks, that quote may be the closest thing this genre has to a Rosetta Stone. It explains why so many of the "borderline" examples people disagree about feel wrong to those well-read in the genre, even if they seem to contain most of the tropes. 
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First, re-read Moorcock's statement. Notice the order he puts the two components in. It's no accident that "old fashioned sword and sandal or cloak and dagger drama" gets precedent. The story has to function purely (or almost purely) in those terms, absent any fantastical element. 
Conan sneaking into the Tower of the Elephant. Elric of Melniboné leading a pirate fleet against the impregnable port of Imrryr. Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser running headlong through the labyrinthine halls of the Thieves' House, one step ahead of their murderous pursuers.   
Any of those moments could be dropped into a historical adventure story, while retaining 100% of its excitement and impact. They speak to something primal in the reader, something that exists independent of the story's magical elements: Courage in the face of certain death. Wit and steel against overwhelming odds. The chase. The hunt. 
The fight.
Next, notice Moorcock's carefully chosen word, supernatural. There's a reason he didn't say "cloak and dagger fiction with magic." Or "sword and sandal drama with elves and dwarves."
Supernatural implies the weird, the unknown, and the dangerous. Supernatural is the fantastic. But it is the unfamiliar fantastic. 
In sword and sorcery, magic is rare and terrifying. Monsters are a violation of the natural order. Dwarves and elves, if present, aren't simply another culture in a fantasy melting-pot world. They're a freak survival of some ancient and forgotten age, like Howard's stooped, serpent-like "Worms of the Earth." Or Moorcock's vaguely etherial, Chaos-bound Melnibonéans. 
What I like about Moorcock's definition is that it's not just descriptive. At the risk of paraphrasing Johnny Depp in Pirates of the Caribbean, Moorcock's definition doesn't just describe what a sword and sorcery story is. If it did, it wouldn't be much more than a genre dowsing rod. 
Rather, Moorcock's definition describes what a sword and sorcery story needs. It can be a map for building one from the ground up. 
Sword and sorcery 101. Start with historical adventure. Add the supernatural. It's as simple (and as complex) as that. 
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brain-leakage-blog · 5 years
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2019 and Looking Forward
"I don't know what 19-year-old me would think if he could see me today. But he'd probably be happy that I still read David Gemmell and listen to Angel Witch." - Me, circa 2015
All in all, that offhanded Facebook comment from a couple of years ago sums up how I feel about the turning of the New Year. While a lot of my fellow writers are posting long lists of their accomplishments, publications, and kudos earned in 2018, I'm not going to do that.
The fact is, I'm not happy with what I accomplished this year. I had a long list of things I set out to achieve, both professionally and personally, and I failed at pretty much all of it.
Not looking for pity here. Just stating it plainly. My list of goals didn't get a lot of check-marks this year, and pretending otherwise would be dishonest.
But I am happy that I'm still me. 
And after a year filled with self-doubts, mental health issues, and maddening, Kafka-esque administrative fuck-ups at the Department of Veteran's Affairs adding fuel to both...
Well, shit. That's actually something, guys. 
The fact is, sometimes the best effort we can muster is to hold on for all we're worth. And I managed to do that in 2018, if nothing else. I did it no thanks to the worthless fuck-wits in the VA, and all the thanks to my wife, my fellow vets, and some good friends.
Not to mention a pair of spoiled-rotten dogs. It's amazing how even in the middle of the shittiest of shitty days, a dog curled in your lap can suddenly be the brightest spot in the whole universe.
Which leads me to 2019.
For the year ahead, I do have a handful of irons in the proverbial fire. 
A project I don't want to talk about yet, but which should be getting some official traction soon. 
An ambitious self-publishing project, one that combines my love of parallel universe/Lost Earthman stories with my favorite nerdy pastimes. 
Provided the first two items pan out, a second, even more ambitions self-publishing project.
More blogging, including an upcoming guest blog at DMR Books. 
Watch this space for more. I'll have some updates on all of the above coming soon.
As for me, I have some work to do. Right after I listen to some Angel Witch.
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brain-leakage-blog · 5 years
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New coffee mug for Christmas. My wife is the best.
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brain-leakage-blog · 6 years
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The Thing, John W. Campbell, and the Art of the Info-Dump Opening
I have a long history with The Thing. 
One of my earliest memories is watching the 1951 Howard Hawks version with my mom and dad. I was about three or four years old, curled up on the couch in between them, with the blankets pulled up to my chin. I can still vividly remember my horror as I watched the shadow of Will Arness' Thing out in the blizzard, casually slaughtering the team's sled dogs. To this day, that scene of the arctic scientists trying to determine the shape of the magnetic anomaly in the ice—cheesy music sting and all—holds an eerie power for me. 
Catching the 1982 John Carpenter version on cable was one of my formative pre-teen experiences. I was already a horror film junkie by that point, well versed in everything from Hellraiser, to Evil Dead, to Alien. I considered myself quite the jaded little gore connoisseur. And if you had told me I was about to watch a movie that would blow me out of the water, one that would genuinely scare me, I would have laughed right in your face.
The Thing, though, was some straight up next-level shit. Everything about it, from the Ennio Morricone score, to the perfect cinematography, to the still-unequaled practical creature effects, was a bar-raising landmark. Combine that with the tight pacing, the claustrophobic sets, the paranoid direction, and the virtuoso acting performances, and you have one of the most perfect horror films ever made.
Naturally, when I got around to reading the original novella that inspired both films—1938's Who Goes There? by John W. Campbell—I was already predisposed to liking it. And I did. No, it's not quite the timeless masterpiece of horror storytelling that Carpenter's film is. The ending isn't nearly as exciting. The sense of menace doesn't quite build the same way that it does in Lovecraft's better-written tales. Aside from McReady, the characterizations are thin to non-existent. 
But as a pulp SF tale of the "men-with screwdrivers" school, it more than delivers. Campbell sets the claustrophobic tone in the story's first lines, describing the queer, mingled smells that choke the Antarctic camp's tunnels. When McReady comes on the scene—here as a meteorologist rather than a pilot—he is described in appropriately pulpy terms, a red-haired giant, a bronze demigod come to life. When the creature is at last revealed in the block of ice, Campbell gives us the almost superstitious reactions of the otherwise coldly rational scientists. The discord produces a fantastic effect.
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All in all, the opening scene is a master class in establishing mood, setting, and tone while simultaneously kicking off the story with a bang. I'd even go as far as to say this opening is the one thing that Who Goes There? legitimately does better than either of the film versions, both of which take a little time to orient the viewer before introducing the horror.
Which is why despite my excitement, I have a few reservations about the upcoming release of Frozen Hell, from Wildside Press. 
In case you haven't heard yet, writer Alec Nevala-Lee recently rediscovered the lost manuscript for the original, novel-length version of Who Goes There?. A Kickstarter campaign to cover publishing costs met its goal in less than twelve hours, meaning we'll all get to read it early next year.
Admittedly, my first reaction to this news was sheer, unbridled joy. And for part of me it still is. So why the reservations?
According to the project's Kickstarter page, Frozen Hell is apparently 45 pages longer than Who Goes There?, with most of the new material taking place before the novella's opening. In other words, that fantastic, moody first chapter will take place somewhere around page 30-35 or so.  
Which brings me to an interesting thought about the novella, and half the reason for today's post.
One of the most common bits of advice trotted out to new writers is not to open a story with the dreaded "info-dump." You should hook your reader into the story first, giving them relatable characters and conflict, before giving them blocks of expository text or dialogue. Otherwise, the reader won't care.
There's plenty of truth to that advice, enough where it's a pretty reliable rule of thumb. But what always struck me about Who Goes There? is how much of that opening scene really is just info-dump. For several pages, we have McReady and the other scientists just standing around in a room, talking about this frozen creature.
What's more, in this same scene Campbell violates another piece of writing advice that's become akin to gospel over the years: having characters talk about things most of them already know, purely as an excuse to fill in the reader. Or "As you know, Bob," dialogue. 
Campbell partially sidesteps it here, by having Commander Garry address the assembled men first:
"You know the outline of the story back of that find of the Secondary Pole Expedition. I have been conferring with second­-in-­Command McReady, and Norris, as well as Blair and Dr. Copper. There is a difference of opinion, and because it involves the entire group, it is only just that the entire Expedition personnel act on it.
"I am going to ask McReady to give you the details of the story, because each of you has been too busy with his own work to follow closely the endeavors of the others. McReady?"
The rest of the opening consists largely of McReady and Blair explaining the events leading until now, events many of the assembled men were already present for. But because it's presented as a briefing intended to get the station's personnel all on the same page, it works. 
Even so, it was a genuinely audacious storytelling choice, particularly in a format as dependent on fast-paced thrills as the pulps. The whole thing is carried by Campbell's moody description and the gradual reveal of the situation through dialogue, both of which give the scene its necessary suspense. More proof that you can break any writing convention, provided you do it with style.
Of course, the discovery of the Frozen Hell manuscript reveals that scene's original placement, which was roughly a quarter of the way into the story. That's much more in line with the standard "hook your reader, explain things later" advice. While I'm genuinely curious to see what hook Campbell uses, something tells me it won't be quite as innovative or memorable as an in-media-res, "as you know, Bob," info dump.  
There's no question that I'm going to buy Frozen Hell the second it's available for general release. Maybe it's better than the novella. Maybe the scenes leading up to that tense, wonderful cold open will somehow make it more powerful. Maybe not.
In some ways, I feel like a kid who snuck a peek behind the curtain at a magic show. Now that I've seen all the mirrors and the hidden trap doors, I'm just sitting in the audience, hoping the Astounding Campbell can still wow me. 
Here's hoping. Either way, I'll be the first in line.
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brain-leakage-blog · 6 years
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Holy crap!! Zordon from the Power Rangers just liked one of my tweets!
I wonder if that means my brother will finally think I’m cool?
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brain-leakage-blog · 6 years
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Free to Read for a Limited Time: Pax Mechanica
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For a limited time, I'm making my Roman-era steampunk short "Pax Mechanica" available as a free online read. Want to know what happens when one of Ceasar's War Walkers encounters the Celtic Britons? Click here to find out.
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brain-leakage-blog · 6 years
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Making a D&D Starter Set on the Cheap
Pop quiz, hot shot. 
Let's say you're a complete newcomer to roleplaying games. You and your friends want to jump into D&D. And you, you lucky bastard, have been elected Dungeon Master. Well, guess what? You're literally the only player who needs to have the rules on hand. Serves you right for being so handsome and personable.
What do you do? What do you do?
90's action-movie references aside, your options are as follows:
The Core Rulebooks: At a minimum, you'll need the Player's Handbook and the Monster Manual. The Dungeon Master's Guide is less essential, but still important. Cost wise, the three core rulebooks retail for $49.95 each. Pre-supposing you want to go with the bare minimum, you're up to $99.90, plus tax. You'll also need to buy dice. 
The D&D Starter Set: This boxed set runs around $20. It offers a limited, "jump-start" version of the rules and one set of dice. Characters are all pre-generated, no rules for character creation are included, and level advancement stops at 5th. 
Amazon can take the sting out of the cost of the core rulebooks, dropping the cost to around $60 for just the Player's Handbook and Monster Manual. The Starter Set generally runs close to retail, but you can sometimes find a third party seller packaging it with extra dice.
My personal recommendation? Don't start with "official" D&D. Start with the Basic Fantasy Roleplaying Game. 
Like most independently-published retro-clone games, the core rules are available as a free PDF. Unlike most of them, that free PDF includes all art and illustrations. The game's publisher has also made the print version available at cost, meaning a physical copy of the rulebook will only set you back $5. 
And that rulebook is an all-in-one, containing the complete Players' Guide, Game Master information, and Monsters. Getting the same "complete" rules for 5e will run you around $150.00, by comparison.
Below is my copy of the core rulebook, along with six sets of dice (and bags) I scored for $10.99. Total cost? Less than sixteen bucks before tax.
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For my money, this is the best "D&D Starter Set" you can build. It's cheaper than the official one, provides complete rules, and each player gets their own set of dice. Hell, if you wanted to be extra generous, you could buy each player a copy of the rulebook. You'd still come out of it cheaper than the 5e Players' Handbook. 
Sure, BFRPG lacks some of the bells and whistles of 5e, like Backgrounds and Feats. But it's close enough to give you (and your players) a real taste of the game. You can always upgrade to 5e later, after you're all hopelessly addict— er, um... comfortable with the game. Even if you don't, BFRPG has enough free supplements available to keep your group going for years. 
No matter what version of the game you start out with, just remember: the smart DM lets his players buy the pizza. The wise DM gives them an XP bonus to make sure they do it again. 
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brain-leakage-blog · 6 years
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Running Castlevania with Old School D&D, Part 6
For part one of this series, click here. For part two, click here. For part three, click here. For part four, click here. And for part five, click here.
To close this little experiment out, I'm going to end right where the games do: with Dracula. Now, statting out the big boss for a Castlevania game could be easy. After all, he's a vampire, right? Why not just use the same Basic Fantasy Roleplaying Game template I did for Carmilla? 
Well, that gets back to what I said in my last post, about Ravenloft and Castlevania being two properties with different feels to them. Case in point: Strahd Von Zarovich is probably my favorite D&D villain of all time. He's devilishly smart. He's an accomplished wizard, who uses both magic and his environment to his advantage. But he's basically just a standard vampire, with a few tweaks to his power level. A canny-enough group of PCs could conceivably surprise him in his coffin, drive a stake through his heart, and end the problem. It's not likely, mind you, but it's possible.    
Dracula from the Castlevania series, however, is another matter entirely. The climax is always a pitched battle, with Dracula taking on multiple forms. His human facade melts away, revealing a hideous, demonic nature. Only by defeating his final form (however many he goes through), do our heroes save the day.
And sure, part of that is because it's a platformer game, and platformers always end with a big boss fight. But I also think it's an essential part of the franchise. Simply put, if you're running a Castlevania-themed game, the only way to make it "feel" like Castlevania is to end it with an epic, shapeshifting, "now-face-my-TRUE-power"-style boss fight.    
To that end, the first thing to realize is that Castlevania Dracula isn't really a vampire. Not in the Bela Lugosi/pop-culture/European folklore sense. Castlevania Dracula is really a maō, or Japanese Demon Lord.  
Don't just take it from me. The Japanese title of the first game is Akumajou Dracula, or "Demon Castle Dracula." The akuma is an evil fire-spirit in traditional Japanese folklore, and when Christianity came to Japan in 1549, Akuma was the name applied to Satan. Language drift being what it is, "akuma" was sometimes shortened to "ma," meaning devil or demon, and maō is "demon ruler" or "demon king." 
This article on Legends of Localization goes into more detail, but for our purposes it's enough to know that Dracula is much more than a vampire. 
With this in mind, I decided to stat out three of Dracula's forms separately. I did use a modified vampire for the first one, since it seemed appropriate. For the second, I leaned heavily on the Basic Fantasy Roleplaying Game Infernal races (specifically the Malebranche and the Vrock).
The last one—based on the cluster of floating heads from Castlevania III—is a modification of the Basic Fantasy Roleplaying Game Giant Flying Brain.
But enough talk! HAVE AT YOU!
Vlad Dracula Tepes (First Form)
Alignment: Chaotic
Armor Class: 21
Hit Dice: 12 (attack bonus +12)
No. of Attacks: 1 or magic
Damage: 1d10, or magic
Movement: 40' or 60' (fly)
No. Appearing: 1 (Unique)
Save as: Lvl 12 Fighter
Morale: 11
Treasure Type: Special
XP: 2,175
In his first form, Dracula appears to be an abnormally large vampire. He resembles an 8' tall human male, with pale skin, dark hair, and flaming red eyes. His canine teeth are sharp, and his features are vaguely lupine. 
Like mundane vampires, in this form Dracula casts no shadow and no reflection. Unlike common vampires, he is perfectly capable of crossing running water and entering another's home without invitation. Additionally, mirrors and garlic have no effect. He may pretend to have these weaknesses at first, in order to lure his enemies into false confidence.
A cross presented with conviction will keep him at bay, provided the wielder is at least level 3 (for more information on this weakness, see the Vampire, p. 124 of the Basic Fantasy Roleplaying Game). He may also be turned, but the Cleric attempting to do so faces a -5 penalty.
Dracula is immune to Sleep, Charm, and Hold spells. He does not use weapons, preferring to use spells in combat. If forced to fight physically, he slashes at his enemies with his claws for 1d10 damage. 
Dracula is not known to bite in combat. However, his bite inflicts 1d3 damage, and drains two level of energy for each round he continues to feed. While feeding, he suffers a -5 Armor Class penalty. Victims reduced to 0 hit points by in this manner die, and they will rise again as vampires during the next sunset. These new vampires are permanently under Dracula's control, and always act as if under a Charm spell.  
Dracula has access to many magic spells. One of his preferred methods of attack is to cast Teleport (which he can do at will) to take an advantageous position behind his enemies, and then attack from a distance with Hellfire. For purposes of spell duration and saves, Dracula's Caster Level is 20.  
Dracula can command common nocturnal creatures. Twice per day, he can summon 10d12 rats, 5d6 giant rats, 10d12 bats, 3d8 giant bats, or 3d8 wolves. The creatures must be nearby to be summoned. Once called, they arrive in 2d6 rounds and obey his commands for 2 hours. 
At will, Dracula can transform into a swarm of 4d4 giant bats. The bats are identical to those detailed on p. 58 of the Basic Fantasy Roleplaying Game. Dracula often uses this ability to flee the area when surprised or overmatched. As long as even one of these bats survives, he is capable of returning to his first form, retaining the same number of Hit Points he had before transforming.  
Dracula also has the common vampire's Charm gaze, which his victims must save vs Spell to resist. Victims save at -4. 
Dracula cannot be harmed by non-magical weapons. Reducing him to 0 Hit Points or exposing him to direct sunlight for more than 5 rounds only destroys his first form, causing him to assume the next one.
Hellfire
1st Level Spell
Duration: Instant
Range: 100' + 10'/Level
This spell causes a small ball of fire to shoot forth and strike a target of the caster's choosing, causing 1d6+1 damage. The target must be at least partially visible to the caster. For every three caster levels after 1st, an additional fireball is generated: two at 4th level, three at 7th, four at 10th, and the maximum number of five at 13th level and above.
Vlad Dracula Tepes (Second Form)
Alignment: Chaotic
Armor Class: 24
Hit Dice: 14 (attack bonus +12)
No. of Attacks: 1 or Special
Damage: 1d10 or Special
Movement: 30' or 15' (fly)
No. Appearing: 1 (Unique)
Save as: Lvl 14 Fighter
Morale: 11
Treasure Type: Special
XP: 2,730
In his second form, Dracula resembles a huge, ugly, gargoyle-like creature. Membraneous wings connect his arms to his torso. Ram-like horns extend from the sides of his head. 
Dracula is incapable of true "flight" in his gargoyle form, as his wings cannot support his massive body. However, he can use them to leap vertical and horizontal distances of over 15 feet. He uses this ability in combat, leaping at his enemy and slashing for 1d10 damage with his feet. 
He is also capable of breathing modified Fireballs at will. Dracula's fireballs are treated as if generated by a fifth level caster, causing 5d6 damage, and having a range of 150 feet. Rather than saving vs. Spell for half damage, his targets are allowed a save vs. Breath Weapon to avoid damage altogether.
While in this form, Dracula can only be harmed by magical weapons and spells cast by a character of 3rd Level or higher. He is completely immune to Sleep, Charm, and Hold spells. Additionally, as he is no longer assuming the shape of an undead creature, he cannot be turned. Reducing Dracula's Second Form to 0 Hit Points does not kill him. It only causes him to assume his Third and final form.
Vlad Dracula Tepes (Third Form)
Alignment: Chaotic
Armor Class: 14
Hit Dice: 24 (attack bonus +1)
No. of Attacks: Magic or Special
Damage: Special
Movement: 30' or 15' (fly)
No. Appearing: 1 (Unique)
Save as: Lvl 14 Magic User
Morale: 11
Treasure Type: Special
XP: 8,850
In his Third and final form, Dracula appears as a massive cluster of 4d4 giant heads. The heads float 5-15 feet in the air, continuously pulsating and moaning. Upon first seeing this form, all creatures must save vs Spell or be paralyzed for 2d8 turns, as if targeted by a Hold Person spell.
In this form Dracula can cast spells as a 14th level magic user, although for purposes of damage, spell duration, and saves, his Caster Level is treated as 20. 
Additionally, each of the heads in the cluster drips a corrosive acid from its mouth. The acid causes 2d8 points of damage. Those hit by the acid drops must make a save vs. Breath Weapon. If unsuccessful, the acid dissolves 1d4 random unenchanted object on the target's person, rendering them useless. 
When Dracula's Third Form is reduced to 0 Hit Points, he is not killed. His spirit is either returned to the primordial chaos beyond the world, or it is absorbed by the walls of Castlevania itself. Dracula will Reincarnate into his First Form in exactly 100 years, unless outsiders attempt to revive him early. 
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brain-leakage-blog · 6 years
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Running Castlevania with Old School D&D, Part 5
This is part of a continuing series. For part one, click here. For part two, click here. For part three, click here. And for part four, click here.
While the previous posts in this series have mainly been concerned with showing how to adapt Lamentations of the Flame Princess' various character classes to Castlevania-appropriate archetypes, this post will handle the setting of Transylvania itself. And while I dipped into Castlevania III: Dracula's Curse and Symphony of the Night to build a D&D style adventuring party with, neither game really offers much in the way of setting material outside the castle.
For that, I'm going to go back a little farther into the franchise's history, to the much-maligned proto-Metroidvania, Castlevania II: Simon's Quest.    
Please, hold all torches and pitchforks until the end.
Just a brief side note: If I really were to run a Castlevania-themed campaign for a group of PC's, I'd probably lean heavily on Simon's Quest to do it with. While the 8-bit NES wasn't quite up to the developers' ambitions, the game has some good bones to build off of. 
I would probably have the players roll up original characters, with at least one being the next heir to the Belmont line. I'd have the game take place a few years after one of the "major" Dracula battles outlined in the main series, and have the Belmont player character's relative be suffering from the same curse Simon did: The wounds taken in his battle against Dracula are not healing. He is slowly dying. As his condition worsens, he has visions of becoming a creature of the night. A fortune-teller reveals the truth. If he dies before the next full moon, he will become a vessel for Dracula to be re-born, stronger than ever. The only way to lift the curse is to bring Dracula's spirit back into its previous body. But Dracula's minions have scattered his remains, to ensure that his curse will run its course. 
Honestly, the only major difference in the set-up would be that the "cursed" Belmont wouldn't be accompanying the PCs. I'd hole him up in the basement of a church, surrounded by garlic and crosses, with monks praying over him day and night. It would then be up to the group of relatively green and inexperienced adventurers to run a desperate race against the clock, with only minimal guidance from their mentor. 
(I'd also make sure that the enemy kidnapped the cursed Belmont as the night of the full moon approached, giving the PC's one more thing to worry about. But that's just me...)
Anyway, there are a few resources I'd recommend using here. First and foremost is A Guide to Transylvania, which I mentioned back in my Alucard post. The PDF is available on DriveThruRPG for about eight bucks. The crunch inside is AD&D 2e specific, but everything else is system agnostic. This book details everything from Transylvanian history, to peasant superstitions, to secret societies. No other supplement will help you fill in the details of the Transylvanian countryside as well as this one.
The second (more expensive) resource is the current D&D 5e Curse of Strahd campaign book, which is an update and expansion of the original Ravenloft module. Why this one instead of the (many) older ones? First, it's widely available in hardcopy. And while I'm not completely in love with what I've seen of 5e's rules, you just can't deny that Wizards of the Coast puts out a high quality product these days. This thing will survive some wear and tear at the table. Second (and more importantly), it maps out and expands the land of Barovia far beyond what the older editions did. 
The third (completely free) resource is the Transylvania map that appeared in the old NES Game Atlas. A high-quality scan is available here at castlevaniadungeon.net.  
The simplest, easiest way to take care of mapping the Transylvania countryside is just to use the foldout map that comes with Curse of Strahd and swap out the names. For example, swap out the starting village of Jova from Simon's Quest with the Village of Barovia from Curse of Strahd. Swap out Yomi—the nearly-abandoned town just outside Castlevania—with the destroyed village of Berez.
While this won't be 100% faithful to the geography on the Castlevania map, enough of the landmarks in Simon's Quest have a rough Barovian equivalent to make it work. Below are some suggestions, with corresponding map and page references.
Castlevania Location / Barovia Location / Curse of Strahd Foldout Map Location / Curse of Strahd Page Reference
Town of Jova (Area 1) / Village of Barovia / Location E / Page 40 - 48
Town of Aljiba (Area 16) / Village of Valliki / Location N / Page 95 - 124
Yuba Lake (Area 14) / Lake Zarovich / Location L / Page 38
Town of Veros (Area 6) / Village of Krezk / Location S / Page 143 - 156
Town of Yomi (Area 48) / Ruins of Berez / Location U / Page 161 - 166
Laruba Mansion (Area 36) / Wachterhaus / N/A (Located in Vallaki) / Page 110 - 115
Brahm Mansion (Area 21) / Argynvostholt / Location Q / Page 129 - 142
That should be enough to get the idea. That said, I'd probably also swap out some of the obviously non-European names with some real-world Transylvanian ones. Targoviste for Aljiba, for example.
One pro to this approach is that it requires relatively little prep time, especially for an inexperienced DM. Curse of Strahd has plenty of fleshed-out NPCs, side-quests, and description boxes for just about every building and room, if you decide to use them. You can use the encounters, too. Stat conversions from 5e to LotFP are simple: Just use the closest equivalent monster from the free Basic Fantasy Roleplaying Game, and add two to the creature's Armor Class. Don't sweat the other details. 
Me? I probably wouldn't go that far. I'd probably just use the maps, crib or ad-lib all of the descriptions from the Transylvania Guide, and wing it with the NPCs and encounters. Similarities aside, Castlevania and Ravenloft are two different properties, with two entirely different feels to them. Relying too heavily on the published material just means you're playing Curse of Strahd. Which is okay. But it isn't Castlevania.
Which, of course, leaves open the question of Castlevania itself. 
The Castle Ravenloft layout in Curse of Strahd is unchanged from the original I:6 Ravenloft module. It makes a perfectly serviceable stand-in for Dracula's Castle, provided you're taking your inspiration from the first couple of games. But if you want something closer to the sprawling, changing, living embodiment of Chaos featured in Symphony of the Night and most of the later games, you'd be better off creating your own funhouse-style Mega-dungeon. As with anything, which you choose will depend heavily on your group, their preferences, and their play style. 
Before I close this installment out—and since I'm already mining Castlevania II for ideas—I'm going to give some sample stats for that game's two Boss monsters. For Carmilla, I used the Basic Fantasy Roleplaying Game version of the Vampire, with almost no modifications. For Death, I re-skinned the BFRPG Lich, added a bunch of Hit Dice, and swapped out his spell casting for a handful of specific, spell-like abilities.
If neither one seems challenging enough, both are easy enough to scale up in power. After all, when it comes to "end game" content, you're bound to have a pretty high level party. Watching them effortlessly steamroll the final bosses would be sort of anticlimactic. If that's a concern, my personal preference is to creatively choose the location for the encounter.
Instead of meeting Carmilla in her vampire lair right away, why not have the PC's encounter her at a masquerade ball, using the powers of her enchanted mask to appear as one of the living? Force them to use roleplaying and guile to maneuver her to a place they can fight her without harming innocents. What about having the PC's run into Death on the grounds of an old battlefield or cemetery? He could raise dozens of allies among the dead, forcing even the most powerful group of PCs into a pitched battle for survival.  
Granted, if you're planning to use Castlevania II as your template, you could always just let the PC's walk right by them with no consequence...
(Note: the Lamentations of the Flame Princess rules assume ascending armor class and a base, unarmored AC of 12. If using these creatures with a system that has a base AC of 10, simply subtract 2.)  
CARMILLA
Alignment: Chaotic
Armor Class: 21
Hit Dice: 9 (attack bonus +8)
No. of Attacks: 1 weapon or special
Damage: 1d8, or by weapon, or special
Movement: 40' or 60' (fly)
No. Appearing: 1 (Unique)
Save as: Lvl 9 Fighter
Morale: 11
Treasure Type: Special
XP: 1,225
Beautiful, vain, and cruel, the aristocratic vampire Carmilla is one of Dracula's most ambitious servants. Famous for her inventive and sadistic tortures, she is best known for bathing in the blood of young women. She possesses Carmilla's Mask, a powerful, cursed artifact.
Like all vampires, Carmilla casts no shadow and no reflection. She cannot cross running water, and may not enter another's home unless invited. She cannot tolerate the strong odor of garlic, and will recoil from a mirror or from a cross presented with conviction (for more information on these weaknesses, see the Vampire, p. 124 of the Basic Fantasy Roleplaying Game). 
Carmilla is immune to Sleep, Charm, and Hold spells. If unarmed, she will treat her hands like claws, raking her target for 1d8 damage. When armed, her vampiric strength gives her an additional +3 to damage when using melee weapons. Her bite (though seldom used in combat) inflicts 1d3 damage, and drains one level of energy from her target for each round she continues to feed. Feeding places her in a vulnerable position, and she suffers a -5 to her Armor Class.
Victims reduced to 0 hit points by Carmilla's feeding die, and they will rise as vampires during the next sunset. These new vampires are permanently under Carmilla's control, and always act as if under a Charm spell.  
Carmilla can command common nocturnal creatures. Once per day, she can summon 10d10 rats, 5d4 giant rats, 10d10 bats, 3d6 giant bats, or 3d6 wolves. The creatures must be nearby to be summoned. Once called, they arrive in 2d6 rounds and obey her commands for 1 hour.  If she chooses, Carmilla can also assume the form of a giant bat or a giant wolf at will.
In addition to the above abilities, Carmilla also shares the common vampire's Charm gaze, which her victims can save vs Spell to resist. Unlike her more common brethren, Carmilla's charm is exceptionally powerful, imposing a -3 penalty rather than the standard -2. 
Carmilla cannot be harmed by non-magical weapons. Exposing her to direct sunlight for more than 1 round destroys her, and submerging her in running water causes her to lose 1/3 of her Hit Points per round for three rounds, with death occurring on the third round. Any other method of reducing her HP to 0 merely incapacitates her, causing her to fall into an apparently death-like state. But if her body is not exposed to sunlight, submerged in running water, or burned, she will begin to regenerate 1d8 hours later, at a rate of 1 hp per turn.
Carmilla's Mask (Artifact)
This artifact is a smooth, silver mask, closely resembling the kind commonly worn during masquerade balls. When the mask is placed onto a human or a dhampir, dozens of hollow, silver spikes appear in the inside, causing it to latch onto the victim's face, and inflicting 1d3 damage. Each round the victim is prevented from removing the mask, it drains 1 energy level, feeding as a vampire, until the victim is reduced to 0 Hit Points. Once dead, the victims do not rise as vampires.
If the mask is freshly fed, bloody tears will pool in the corner of its eyes, and for the next 1d12 hours it will convey several abilities on any vampire that wears it. While wearing the mask, the vampire casts both a shadow and a reflection. Garlic, holy symbols, and holy water have no effect. The vampire may enter any home with no invitation, cross running water, and even walk in the sunlight—although this last will still be uncomfortable. 
Additionally, victims of the vampire's Charm gaze suffer a further -2 penalty to their saving throw.  
DEATH
Alignment: Chaotic
Armor Class: 26
Hit Dice: 15 (attack bonus +10)
No. of Attacks: 1 touch, weapon.
Damage: 1d8 touch+drain, by weapon.
Movement: 30' or 60' (fly)
No. Appearing: 1 (Unique)
Save as: Lvl 15 Magic User or Cleric (use lower)
Morale: 11
Treasure Type: Special
XP: 3,150
Death is Dracula's top lieutenant. Fiercely loyal to his master, Death will fight to protect him at all costs. Death's actual nature is unknown, although he is believed to be an evil manifestation of pure Chaos. His physical form resembles that of the classical "Grim Reaper," a skeletal body wrapped in a tattered cloak. He carries Death's Scythe, an artifact-level magical weapon.
Upon first encountering Death, all intelligent, living creatures must save vs Spell or flee in terror for 2d6 rounds. Even on subsequent encounters, Death's gaze is terrifying. All creatures that meet it must make a save vs. Spell or be paralyzed with fright for 2d4 rounds. Dhampirs, due to their half-undead nature, get a +2 bonus to this check.
Death prefers to attack with his scythe when possible. If forced to make a physical attack, his touch causes 1d8 points of damage and drains 1d4 points of Constitution, while simultaneously healing him for the equivalent amount.
The Constitution loss is permanent. It can only be healed by the casting of a Restoration spell, at a rate of 1 point per casting. If a character's Constitution score falls to 0, he or she immediately dies, and rises the following round as a lesser wight. This creature is identical to the wight described on p. 126 of the Basic Fantasy Roleplaying Game, except its attack causes 1d4 points of damage and 1 point of Constitution loss. All characters killed and transformed into wights are considered permanently dead, and cannot be Raised. They may still be Reincarnated. 
Death is able to cast Speak With Dead, Animate Dead, and Raise Dead at will. And while he rarely feels the need to disguise himself, he is able to do so with the aid of Polymorph Self. Additionally, Death is always treated as having an active True Seeing spell cast on his person. For purposes of spell duration and saving throws, Death's caster level is 20. 
Death is immune to all non-magical weapons. Like all skeletons, Death only takes half damage from bladed weapons, and only one point from arrows, bolts, or sling stones (plus any applicable magical bonus). Additionally, he is immune to Sleep, Charm, and Hold spells. Death cannot be turned by the cleric's Turn Undead spell.
Death cannot be permanently killed. When reduced to 0 Hit Points, Death's physical form is destroyed, and his spirit re-joins the primordial Chaos outside the world. After 1d10 months, Death will Reincarnate on the physical plane, although in a weakened form equivalent to a wraith (see Basic Fantasy Roleplaying Game, p. 127). He must then drain the equivalent life force of 2x his normal Hit Dice (a combined 30 levels) in order to regain his full strength and powers.    
Death's Scythe (+3 Great Weapon)
Like Death himself, Death's Scythe is believed to be an evil manifestation of Chaos. In combat, Death's Scythe delivers 1d10 damage, with an additional +3 magical damage bonus. On any natural attack roll of 18 or better, the target must save vs Magical Device or die instantly. Any mortal being who attempts to touch the handle of Death's Scythe must make the same saving throw, but at a -4 penalty.
3 times per day, Death's Scythe can create 1d3 Phantom Sickles. These are smaller, ghostly sickles that spin out towards their intended victim. The sickles last for 1d4 rounds, continuously attacking, and causing 1d6+1 damage per successful hit.
Creatures killed with Death's Scythe may not be Raised, but they may still be Reincarnated.
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brain-leakage-blog · 6 years
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Running Castlevania with Old School D&D, Part 4
This is the fourth part of my Castlevania/D&D series. To read part one, click here. To read part two, click here. To read part three, click here.
Admittedly, I've been at kind of a loss as to how to wrap this part of the series up. Sypha Belnades is the final character to round out our Castlevania adventuring party. And while the most obvious choice is to stat her out as a Magic User, part of me wants to stat her out as a Cleric instead. Being honest, this is probably just my personal bias against parties without a healer in them rearing its head. 
In my defense, though, Raggi's close-to-damn-perfect balance between character classes all but cries out for it. As I mentioned back in my first post on the subject, Lamentations of the Flame Princess is notoriously unforgiving, even by B/X retro-clone standards. With only Trevor getting any better at hitting things as he levels up, the hypothetical group is likely to take a beating in combat encounters. And with Alucard handling offensive spellcasting, it strikes me that they'd need a somewhat resilient healer a lot more than they'd need a glass cannon. 
On the other hand, not much in the games really justifies it. Sypha's power-ups in Castlevania III: Dracula's Curse are spellbooks. Her only three spells are elemental attacks. Even her later (zombie) appearance in Symphony of the Night, the only thing she's really shown adding to that is a wind attack (and flight). In other words, she's pretty explicitly a magic user, despite the "Holy" moniker on her spell names.
That said, the OSR has plenty of available house rules that could conceivably give me the best of both worlds here. A fascinating one can be found on the blog Akratic Wizardry. The gist of it is that the Cleric and Magic-User spell lists are combined, and the Cleric class is removed. Spells are then designated as either White, Black, or Grey, with appropriate costs for each category (loss of hit points/possible loss of Wisdom). 
Some modification would be necessary, of course. The Akratic Wizardry post assumes several other house rules are already in play, like hit points being equivalent to non-lethal damage, and Constitution being used as hit points. But it's a good example of how many different ways there are to crack the problem in the OSR community.  
Granted, if I wanted to run a truly authentic Castlevania game, all healing would come from magically preserved wall meat. So in that spirit, here's Sypha, statted as a standard LotFP Magic User. 
MAGIC-USER
Of all mortals who oppose Dracula, none are at more risk than Magic-Users. Warriors and Specialists merely risk life and limb. Magic-Users risk the same, with the added danger of losing their very souls.
Some are solitary hedge witches, healer women who have dabbled in the arcane to supplement their knowledge of herbs and natural remedies. Others are members of secretive cults or covens, pooling their resources to unlock untold power over the supernatural world. Still others were once dedicated members of the Church, hunters and enemies of the supernatural who fell to its siren song.
Whatever their background, Magic-Users are those who have have pierced the Veil of the world, touching the primordial Chaos to draw on its power. As such, they are marked in ways they cannot fully comprehend. 
Hated and shunned by the world around them, Magic-Users must practice in secret, or risk death at the hands of a frightened mob. Many an innocent man or woman has burned at the stake in Wallachia, and the Magic-User is always just an unfortunate turn of fate from being next.
Reflecting their marked nature, Magic-Users are always Chaotically aligned. In order to cast a spell they must have both hands free, be able to freely recite the incantation, and be no more than lightly encumbered. Carrying a staff or a wand in one hand is permitted.
At first level, Magic-Users roll a 1d6 for Hit Points, and they begin the game with a minimum of 3 (roll 1d6, add Constitution modifier, and ignore any result lower than 3). For every level beyond first, they roll 1d4.   
  Sypha Belnades
Magic User   /     Level 5     /   Chaotic
Hit Points: 12 (d4 Hit Die)    Melee Attack Bonus: +0    Ranged Attack Bonus: +1
Base Armor Class: 12 (Robes 12, +DEX bonus)
Parry: +2 to AC
Charisma         11     ( +0 to Retainer Recruitment, Loyalty)
Constitution      7      ( -1 to Hit Points, Daily Travel Distance)
Dexterity          10     ( +0 to Armor Class, Ranged Attack Bonus, Initiative) 
Intelligence      16     ( +2  to Saves vs Magic Effects, Languages)
Strength            6      ( -1 to Melee Attack Bonus, Open Doors)
Wisdom           15     ( +1 to Saves vs Non-magical Effects)
Spells Per Level: 
1st Level / 2nd Level / 3rd Level
       3               2                1
Common Activities:
Architecture        1 in 6
Bushcraft            1 in 6
Climbing             1 in 6
Languages          3 in 6 (Base 1 in 6, plus INT bonus)
Open Doors        0 in 6 (Base 1 in 6, minus STR penalty)
Search                1 in 6 
Sleight of Hand   1 in 6
Sneak Attack      damage x1
Stealth                1 in 6
Tinkering             1 in 6
Base Saving Throws:   
Paralyze      Poison     Breath Weapon     Magical Device       Magic
      12                9                 14                          10                     12
 With bonuses:        
      11                8                 13                           9                      11
Holy Flame 
1st Level Spell 
Duration: Intant
Range: 10'
This short-range, but powerful, spell produces a large jet of flame directly in front of the caster. Targets must save vs. Breath Weapon or take 1d8 damage per level of the caster. Creatures that successfully save take half damage.
Holy Lightning
2nd Level Spell
Duration: 2 rounds, +1 round/Level
Range: 100' + 10'/Level
This spell creates a semi-sentient orb of concentrated electricity, which then flies out to strike an enemy within the caster's range. If more than one enemy is present, the caster cannot designate a specific target, beyond imbuing the orbs with a vague sense of the difference between "friend" and "foe." Once released, the orb will fly straight towards its chosen target at a rate of 60' per round, maneuvering around obstacles and adjusting course as necessary. If the orb travels out of the spell's range, or if it does not make contact with its target before the spell's duration is up, it dissipates harmlessly. If it makes contact with the target, the orb expels all of its energy, delivering 1d6 damage per caster level. 
Holy Wind
2nd Level Spell
Duration: 3 rounds/Level
Range: 5'
This spell creates a cushion of whirling air, enabling the caster to levitate herself, another creature, or an object at a rate of 20' per round. Unwilling targets may save vs. Spell to avoid its effects. The caster can mentally direct the Holy Wind to move either up, down, horizontally, or diagonally. Any creature caught in the Holy Wind will be unstable, and will suffer a cumulative -1 penalty to attack on each round, to a maximum of -5. A full round spent attempting to stabilize will enable the creature to begin the process again at -1.
Blue Splash
3rd Level Spell
Duration: Instant
Range: 100' + 10'/Level
This spell creates three large, spear-shaped ice crystals around the caster, which then fly out to attack a chosen enemy within range. The caster may choose to direct all three crystals at the same enemy, or she may choose to target up to three enemies individually. Each ice crystal causes 1d6 damage per caster level. Additionally, the target must save vs. Spell for each crystal, or be be frozen in place for 1d3 rounds. When frozen, the creature is considered helpless and prone.  
Stopwatch (Artifact):
When activated, this artifact stops time around the user, freezing all living and non-living things in a 100' radius. Creatures with 2 HD or less are affected immediately, with no save possible. Creatures with 3HD or more must save vs. Magical Device at a -4 penalty. The effect lasts for 1d10 rounds, during which time the holder of the Stopwatch can move and attack freely. Enemies attacked are considered prone and helpless. When discovered, the Stopwatch will contain 1d6 charges, with each activation expending one charge. Once all charges are depleted, the Stopwatch becomes an ordinary watch, with a value of 1d4 silver pieces. It cannot be re-charged. 
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brain-leakage-blog · 6 years
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Running Castlevania with Old School D&D, Part 3
For part one of this series, click here. For part two, click here.
With this installment, we're going to dive into the nitty-gritty of one of the coolest innovations in James Raggi's Lamentations of the Flame Princess: The Specialist class.
One thing LotFP does better than any other B/X clone is that it streamlines the skill check system. Every character, regardless of class, has the same Base 1 in 6 chance to perform some common activities. Those activities include things like stealth, climbing sheer surfaces, and picking locks or disarming traps (combined under the name "tinkering" in Raggi's system). The assumption is that any adventurer would have been at least partially exposed to these skills, and have some chance of succeeding at them.
Compare this to giving the Thief (and only the Thief) a percentile dice check for, say, moving silently and hiding. For new players, this can create the impression that only the Thief is capable of these things (wrong), rather than that he or she is simply better at them (right). Further confusing the issue is that the Thief is using a resolution mechanic none of the other classes use. If the entire party declares that they want to hide from an approaching group of sentries, what's the best way to determine success or failure for the non-Thief characters?
Enter, the LotFP Specialist class. The Specialist starts the game with the same Base 1 in 6 skills that all player characters have, plus 4 skill points to distribute as they see fit. At each level, they gain two more skill points. 
Not only does this greatly simplify the concept of "Thief skills" for new players, it also allows for plenty of player customization. Prefer playing an assassin over a standard Thief? Put all your points into Stealth, Climbing, and Sneak Attack. Want a Bard-type character steeped in dungeon lore and history? Focus on Languages, Sleight of Hand, and Architecture. Even a Ranger-type character would be feasible. Just put all your points in Bushcraft, Climbing, and Stealth.
Add to this the relative simplicity of introducing "custom" skills (seamanship for example), and just about any kind of character is possible. Even something as crazy as, say, a wall-climbing pirate captain in the Carpathian Mountains...
SPECIALIST  
Not all who oppose Dracula are skilled warriors, masters of magic, or cursed half-breeds. Some are ordinary people, forced to rely on skill rather than physical might or arcane power. Most would call these souls foolish for thinking they could stand against the armies of the night. Maybe they are. But the more sentimental among Wallachia's terrified populace look to these men and women as courageous beacons of hope.
Specialists are those characters who, through vocation, background, or sheer determination, have mastered skills that most only dabble in. Some are highwaymen and criminals. Some are adventurers and explorers. Still others are simple tradesmen, applying their mastery of locks or animal trapping to the war against Dracula's minions.
Whatever their background, Specialists begin the game at the same default skill level as all other characters, plus or minus applicable modifiers. At first level, they are awarded 4 additional Skill Points to distribute as desired, and an additional two skill points per character level. Each point applied improves the skill roll by one (1 in 6 becomes 2 in 6, for example). 
The exception is the Sneak Attack skill. Each point applied to Sneak Attack acts as a damage modifier. Spending no points grants no damage bonus. Spending one point multiples damage by two on a successful sneak attack. Spending two points multiples damage by three, and so on. Additionally, spending any points in Sneak Attack grants the Specialist a +2 bonus to hit on all sneak attack rolls.
If any of the Specialist's skills are rated at 6 in 6, the player rolls 2d6 for every skill check. The check fails only if the player rolls a 6 on both dice.  
The Specialist must be unencumbered to use any skill that requires movement, or suffer a penalty of one skill point per point of encumbrance. Using the Tinker skill to pick locks, or disarm traps requires special tools.      
Specialists begin the game with a minimum of 4 Hit Points (roll 1d6 and apply Constitution modifier, ignore any result lower than 4).
Grant DaNasty 
Specialist   /     Level 5     /   Neutral
Hit Points: 17  (d6 Hit Die)   Melee Attack Bonus: +2   Ranged Attack Bonus: +3
Base Armor Class: 14 (Unarmored 12, +DEX bonus)
Parry: +2 to AC
Charisma         13      ( +1 to Retainer Recruitment, Loyalty)
Constitution     12     ( +0 to Hit Points, Daily Travel Distance)
Dexterity          16     ( +2 to Armor Class, Ranged Attack Bonus, Initiative) 
Intelligence       7      ( -1  to Saves vs Magic Effects, Languages)
Strength           14     ( +1  to Melee Attack Bonus, Open Doors)
Wisdom           10     ( +0 to Saves vs Non-magical Effects)
Common Activities:
(Base 1 in 6, Plus 12 Skill Points distributed)
Architecture        3 in 6
Bushcraft            1 in 6
Climbing             6 in 6  (Roll 2d6, check fails only on a roll of 12)
Languages          0 in 6 (Base 1 in 6, minus INT penalty)
Open Doors        1 in 6
Search                1 in 6 
Sleight of Hand   1 in 6
Sneak Attack      damage x2, +2 to attack
Stealth                1 in 6
Tinkering             1 in 6
Seamanship        3 in 6 (New Skill, character specific)
Base Saving Throws:    
Paralyze      Poison     Breath Weapon     Magical Device       Magic
     11               12                 14                          13                     12
 With bonuses:
     11               12                 14                          14                     13
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Running Castlevania with Old School D&D, Part 2
This is a continuation of my previous post on the subject. For part one, click here.
We're approaching zero day with my group of first time D&D players, and I've selected a couple of easy, introductory adventures to run them through. But I'll admit, with Halloween around the corner and Castlevania returning to Netflix later this month, I'm sorely tempted to run them through Transylvania instead.
The more I read through Lamentations of the Flame Princess, the more convinced I am that it's the perfect version of D&D to run a Castlevania-themed adventure with. Almost everything can be done with rules as written, and the rest can be handled with a simple re-skin.
To prove the point (and flesh things out a bit more), today I'm tackling Alucard. 
Bit of background: I was a huge Ravenloft nerd back in my AD&D 2e days, and I bought every supplement for it I could lay my pimply little hands on. One of the neatest was the Masque of the Red Death and Other Tales boxed set, an alternate Victorian Earth in which player characters faced off against the likes of Dracula, Jack the Ripper, and Frankenstein's monster. Masque of the Red Death spawned a couple of supplements itself, one of which was A Guide to Transylvania. I ended up leaning heavily on it for my off-the-cuff Castlevania campaign.
Anyway, one thing 2e was bad for (especially towards the end) was introducing new races and classes for every little character variation. Want to play a Gladiator in old school, B/X D&D? He's a Fighter. Done. 
But late 2e had the Gladiator Fighter's Kit (from The Complete Fighter's Handbook) the Gladiator class (from Dark Sun), and The Complete Gladiator's Handbook (which contained several kits for the Dark Sun Gladiator Class). Not to mention the Gladiator kit introduced in the The Glory of Rome sourcebook. Or the one introduced in Player's Option: Skills and Powers.
Ravenloft and Masque of the Red Death were no different, and Guide to Transylvania introduced the new dhampir race. It was a half-human, half-vampire hybrid with way too many racial abilities and nowhere near enough disadvantages to make up for them.
To avoid making the same power-creep mistakes here, I'm simply going to re-skin the Lamentations of the Flame Princess Elf as a dhampir. No, it doesn't have many racial abilities, but according to Castlevania: Symphony of the Night, most of Alucard's abilities came from his magic items and learned spells. I'll put a couple at the end here, like I did with Trevor's Vampire Killer whip. As before, I'll preface the stats with a new, Castlevania-appropriate class description.
DHAMPIR:
Dracula and his vampire spawn prowl the night, and while their hunger for blood is legendary, the darker truth is that some harbor other appetites. While the Prince of Darkness is known to have loved only one woman, the same cannot be said for the other vampires stalking the lonely mountain passes of Wallachia. 
Some vampires charm their way into their victims' bedchambers, dropping them into a dreamlike state and ordering them to remove crosses and garlic from the windows. Others entice them out into the night, promising dark pleasures no human lover could hope to match. Whatever method the undead sire chooses to seduce his target, dhampirs—the children of these unholy unions—are truly damned souls. Neither human nor vampire, they live a grey nether-existence, hated and shunned by mortals and undead alike.
Dhampir physical appearances vary as widely as those of humans, but often there is some feature telling of their unnatural parentage. Many have pale, almost porcelain-white skin. Others have odd, striking eye colors such as gold or cerulean blue. Still others have oversized, sharp canine teeth.
Due to their supernatural blood, dampirs are naturally gifted in the arts of magic. Unlike human Magic Users, dhampirs only require one free hand in order to cast spells, and they can cast while heavily encumbered. They use the same spell list and spell progression table as Magic Users.
Dhampirs have a certain physical prowess above that of most humans. As such, they get access to the Fighter's Press Attack and Defensive Fighting abilities, as well as sharing the Fighter's +4 AC bonus when choosing to parry. They do not gain attack bonuses for leveling up. Additionally, their senses are more acute than those of full-blooded humans, enabling them to notice more while Searching (2 in 6 at first level). They are only surprised on a roll of 1 in 6.
Dhampirs begin the game with a minimum of 4 hit points (Roll 1d6 and add CON bonus, ignore any result lower than 4).
Alucard 
Dhampir   /     Level 5     /   Chaotic
Hit Points: 29  (d6 Hit Die)   Melee Attack Bonus: +2   Ranged Attack Bonus: +2
Base Armor Class: 17 (Alucard Mail 16, +DEX bonus)
Press Attack: +2 to hit, -4 to AC
Defensive Fighting: +2 to AC, -4 to Hit
Parry: +4 to AC
Charisma         16      ( +2 to Retainer Recruitment, Loyalty)
Constitution     13     ( +1 to Hit Points, Daily Travel Distance)
Dexterity          15     ( +1 to Armor Class, Ranged Attack Bonus, Initiative) 
Intelligence      13     ( +1  to Saves vs Magic Effects, Languages)
Strength           14     ( +1  to Melee Attack Bonus, Open Doors)
Wisdom           13     ( +1 to Saves vs Non-magical Effects)
Spells Per Level: 
1st Level / 2nd Level / 3rd Level
       3               2                1
Common Activities:
Architecture        1 in 6
Bushcraft            1 in 6
Climbing             1 in 6
Languages          2 in 6 (Base 1 in 6, plus INT bonus)
Open Doors        2 in 6
Search                3 in 6 
Sleight of Hand   1 in 6
Sneak Attack      damage x1
Stealth                1 in 6
Tinkering             1 in 6
Saving Throws:    
Paralyze      Poison     Breath Weapon     Magical Device       Magic
    11               10                 13                          11                     13
 With bonuses:        
    10                9                  12                          10                     12
Dark Metamorphosis 
2nd Level Spell 
Duration: 2 rounds/caster level
Converts enemy blood to life force. Once cast, this spell heals the caster for the equivalent of 1/2 hp for every point of damage dealt to an enemy, rounded up. The regenerated HP cannot exceed the caster's current maximum, and the enemy must be capable of shedding blood.
Hellfire
1st Level Spell
Duration: Instant
Range: 100' + 10'/Level
This spell causes a small ball of fire to shoot forth and strike a target of the caster's choosing, causing 1d6+1 damage. The target must be at least partially visible to the caster. For every three caster levels after 1st, an additional fireball is generated: two at 4th level, three at 7th, four at 10th, and the maximum number of five at 13th level and above.
Crissaegrim (Medium Sword, +2)
Crissaegrim is a medium-sized sword with an elegant, curved blade. It grants its user +2 to attack, and does 1d8 points of damage. Additionally, Crissaegrim has has a "cyclone attack" power, which can be used twice per day and lasts for one turn. When activated, every successful attack with Crissaegrim allows the user to make another, instant attack roll for an additional 1d8 damage. These attacks continue until an attack roll fails, the target is killed, or the maximum number of four attacks is reached. 
Soul of Bat (Artifact):
When activated, this artifact enables the user to cast a limited polymorph spell, transforming him or her into a giant bat. The spell lasts for 1d10 turns, or until deactivated. It can be used three times per day.
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Vancian Magic
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Vancian Magic in D&D: It’s a Feature, Not a Bug
As I mentioned a few weeks back, I've been drafted to run a D&D game for a group of new players. We're getting close to running our zero session, probably by the end of this week. I have two players interested in elves, and a third that apparently likes to play healing classes whenever he plays MMO's. I'll lay out all the options and see if that changes come game day, but for now I'm going to run with the assumption that this will be the makeup of the party.
If so, it throws a small hiccup into my plan of using Lamentations of the Flame Princess as my base. 
In LotFP, only Fighters get an increase to their attack bonus as they level up. I actually think this is one of James Raggi's more inspired decisions. It clearly blocks off combat as a the sole specialty of the Fighter, which then encourages the group to work together. After all, you're going to need at least one character to get better at hitting things as the game progresses. Otherwise, your band of adventurers is going to have a very short career.
That said, as much as I admire Raggi's design choice, I'm not about to force a first-time player into a class they don't want. But one of the wonderful things about OSR games is the ability to mix and match them until you arrive at just the right combination.
So, my options:
Beef up the Cleric, making him more of a spell casting pseudo-Paladin. Or maybe just use the Basic Fantasy Roleplaying Game version of the class, which includes an increase to attack bonuses and turn undead as a class ability. 
Just go whole hog with Basic Fantasy Roleplaying, and separate Race and Class altogether. This gives the added bonus of allowing someone to play an elven thief, so there's some skill variation between the two.
However I do it, I'm still planning to use the LotFP encumbrance system, as well as swapping out the Specialist class for the Thief. I also plan to keep the D6-based skill check system.  
Anyway, I'm rambling a bit here. The main thrust of this post is about a weird feature of Old-school D&D, and just how I'm planning to introduce it to a bunch of new players.
That's right. I'm talking about Vancian Magic.
I'll admit, I absolutely hated Vancian magic back in the day. I could never wrap my head around the "fire and forget" nature of the spells. How could a character spend hours studying a spell each day, only to forget it once it was cast?
It never made sense to me, and when I ran my games I used a house-ruled "mana" system instead. Granted, now that I've actually read some Jack Vance, my opinion on the matter has changed. And as in so many things, context is everything. 
Part of the problem is that none of the more experienced guys in my old D&D group ever ran magic as anything other than a character's superpower. In every campaign, spells were widely known. You got access to spells automatically at new levels (no studying or finding a mentor), and there were mid-to-high level mages operating public shops in every jerkwater little village. Before every adventure, we could buy magic items, potions, and scrolls to our heart's content. I distinctly recall abandoning +1 Magic Swords when we found them on certain adventures, because they weren't even worth the effort of bringing them back to town to sell.
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Compare that to this passage from Vance's The Dying Earth:
"At one time a thousand or more runes, spells, incantations, curses, and sorceries had been known. The reach of Grand Motholam—Ascolais, the Ide of Kauchique, Almery to the South, the Land of the Falling Wall to the East—swarmed with sorcerers of every description, of whom the chief was the Arch-Necromancer Phandaal. A hundred spells Phandaal personally had formulated—though rumor said that demons whispered at his ear when he wrought magic. Ponticella the Pious, then ruler of Grand Motholam, put Phandaal to torment, and after a terrible night, he killed Phandaal and outlawed sorcery throughout the land. The wizards of Grand Motholam fled like beetles under strong light; the lore was dispersed and forgotten, until now, at this dim time, with the sun dark, wilderness obscuring Ascolais, and the white city Kaiin half in ruins, only a few more than a hundred spells remained to the knowledge of man. Of these, Mazirian had access to seventy-three, and gradually, by stratagem and negotiation, was securing the others.
"Mazirian made a selection from his books and with great effort, forced five spells upon his brain: Phandaal's Gyrator, Felojun's Second Hypnotic Spell, The Excellent Prismatic Spray, The Charm of Untiring Nourishment, and the Spell of the Omnipresent Sphere. This accomplished, Mazirian drank wine and retired to his couch."    
In Vance's work, magic is mysterious, ancient, and virtually forgotten. Less than a tenth of the spells once known to humanity are left. Powerful wizards hoard them in hopes of getting one up on their rivals. Magic is the currency of power in this world, and great effort is spent to seek it out.
Furthermore, the spells themselves aren't passive. Mazirian has to force them into his brain. Once there, the syllables and symbols struggle to escape his consciousness. Casting a spell in these stories isn't so much a matter of reciting words as it is releasing a chaotic force, one the magician is just barely holding in check.
In this context, D&D's default "fire and forget" magic system makes sense. And while I can see why alternative spell systems are popular (like Sorcerers from the 3.X and later editions), there's a kind of pulpy weirdness to the Vancian method I really like.
As for introducing it to the players, I'm probably going to kill two birds with one stone here, once again taking some inspiration from Vance. I'm thinking about giving the party a mid-level Mage as their patron/employer. He'll pay them on a freelance basis for recovering bits of magic for him. He's looking for anything at all: half-torn scrolls, pages from spell books, items he can research. In his quest to re-discover lost spells, he's spent decades tracking down minuscule scraps of them to re-assemble like a jigsaw puzzle.
This also gives the PCs a specific reason to go dungeon delving, as well as reinforcing the overall mystery and rarity of magic. Plus it allows any magic-using PCs to have easy access to a mentor/teacher when it comes time to learn new spells.
Sure, the set up has the potential to be a little railroad-y. But also I think it can give the PC's a little bit of forward momentum, provided I let the adventures themselves evolve organically.
Hmm... I just might have to roll up a paranoid, power-hungry Wizard NPC along with the rest of the campaign splat. 
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