Archive for the ‘fluff/inspiration’ Category

Every Book’s a Sourcebook: Little Women

Monday, July 12th, 2010

Elsewhere, I’m reading Little Women – slowly – and blogging about it in excruciating detail. Little Women may seem like an unlikely source for D&D inspiration, but that’s because you’ve forgotten that Every Book’s a Sourcebook.

Here’s a passage that Little Women‘s author, Louisa May Alcott, liked so much that she put it, or something very close to it, in two books (Little Women and A Long Fatal Love Chase):

Valrosa well deserved its name, for in that climate of perpetual summer roses blossomed everywhere. They overhung the archway, thrust themselves between the bars of the great gate … Every shadowy nook, where seats invited one to stop and rest, was a mass of bloom, every cool grotto had its marble nymph smiling from a veil of flowers and every fountain reflected crimson, white, or pale pink roses, leaning down to smile at their own beauty. Roses covered the walls of the house, draped the cornices, climbed the pillars, and ran riot over the balustrade of the wide terrace, whence one looked down on the sunny Mediterranean, and the white-walled city on its shore.

Valrosa sounds like a beautiful city: overgrown with flowers, perhaps so overgrown that it is in fact abandoned. What if my campaign’s Undead City, instead of being a depressing gray ruin overrun with ghouls, is a beautiful, sweet-smelling garden city overrun with ghouls? White roses climb up the city’s walls and choke the alleyways. They blossom through the eyesockets of ghoul-devoured corpses in the street. A cool grotto with a flower-covered marble nymph sounds like a great place for the fleeing PCs to get beset by skeletons.

The Ten Mile Tower – Mile 1

Thursday, July 8th, 2010

A couple weeks ago I posted about the Ground Level of the Ten Mile Tower as the beginning of an 11 part series detailing an exciting adventure in the Ten Mile Tower, a tower that stands over 10 miles tale and touches the stars themselves! I ran this adventure with my weekly gaming group to their delight (and mine), and now I present it to you in an exciting easy to digest format!

Overview

I had already decided that though the Ten Mile Tower has thousands of levels, each worth exploring in their own right, the tower is basically broken up into ten sections, each ruled over by a powerful leader. However, since I wanted to create a sense that the tower is filled with MANY different creatures, from the lowely bullywug to the noblest dragon, I didn’t want to bring out the big guns just yet.

The 1st mile up the tower is filled with goblins, orcs, bugbears, lizardfolk, and kobolds, standard fare for most adventurers in heroic tier. By paragon tier (this adventure is intended for level 11 heroes), there’s not much here that can challenge you. Exposing higher level heroes to monsters like this is fun since it reinforces how badass they’ve become. However, it’s also helpful to remind them that while a dozen kobolds can be dispatched with relative ease, a tribe of hundreds of kobolds is not going to be quite so easy:

And thus:

(more…)

The Twilight Saga: Escort

Tuesday, July 6th, 2010

I just saw Eclipse, and it seems like it could be turned into a magnificently terrible D&D 4e campaign.

It’s a high-powered paragon level campaign. In addition to their regular powers, everyone gets to choose a few cool powers from the Monster Manual. However, every adventure is concerned with protecting a level-1 NPC minion.

The NPC, Bella Swan, a) has an annoying personality and b) always acts in the most suicidal way possible. Bella Swan has no standard actions. She can, however, Mark as a minor action. In combat, Bella’s usual strategy is to move adjacent to the most powerful enemy and then Mark two opponents.

Besides fighting their opponents, the PCs must nursemaid Bella: use forced-movement powers to get her out of danger; mark opponents to override her marks; Grab her and drag her out of danger; hide her in a box or a cave, with at least one PC assigned to keep her out of trouble. Oh: concealment doesn’t work very well, though, because all the DM’s monsters always know exactly what square she is in because of her unmistakeable smell. They will also attack her instead of any other opponent.

Actually, maybe Bella’s not strictly a minion. She has 2 HP. When left unattended, she’s always getting Bloodied by, say, cutting herself on a sharp knife. If this happens, the party cleric had better immediately use healing resources on her, because there are more sharp knives lying around the world. (Let’s give Bella another ability: whenever she becomes Bloodied, she immediately Marks all opponents and allies within 5 miles.)

If any PC kills Bella, he immediately gains a level. However, the campaign ends.

Every Book’s a Sourcebook: The Riddle of the Sands

Monday, June 28th, 2010

(continuing my goal of using every book as a D&D sourcebook)

The Riddle of the Sands is is a pre-World War I British spy adventure, written by a real British spy who was later EXECUTED FOR TREASON. I think this adds a lot of authority to a book. Imagine if Naomi Novik, author of the Temeraire novels, died by FALLING OFF A DRAGON. That would give her a little something called AUTHENTICITY.

The characters in The Riddle of the Sands spend a lot of time poking around the German coast in boats, and there are a lot of details about Admiralty charts and tide tables. Some sailing exploits, and sights, are only possible at high tide. For instance, there’s an abandoned church on an island: at high tide, the island is underwater and the church can be seen sitting on the surface of the water.

Imagine the temple crypt below such a church. A macguffin entombed in the deepest part of the crypt might only be accessible at low tide, for, say, an hour; soon afterwards, water would start flowing in, giving the DM a great excuse for the classic rooms-filling-with-water hazard. On Earth, it takes about 6 hours for a tide to come in; so in a reasonably-sized dungeon, the PCs won’t be in danger of drowning unless they get caught in a trap or there is some sort of delaying terrain. This dungeon should probably have both.

What monsters would be in such a dungeon? In order for water to flow into the crypt, there must be an outlet to the sea somewhere. Mermen and other aquatic creatures can definitely be hanging out in whatever portion of the crypt is currently underwater.

The currently-above-water part of the crypt is more difficult. It must only be inhabited with amphibious creatures – which, luckily, includes undead, the most obvious dwellers in a church crypt. Imagine a skeleton which has spent half its time underwater for hundreds of years. It and its axe would be trailing weeds and slime; it might or might not be part coral (depending on how much you like The Tempest: does that sea change stuff actually happen?); and it would undoubtedly have something gross in its eye socket, skull or rib cage: a dead fish or scuttling crab.

The rest of the dungeon would be pretty unpleasant too: the church itself, up to a few feet up the walls, would be coated with weeds and slime, and paved with muck and stinking fish. Every level down would be successively more unpleasant.

the storm’s dilemma

Sunday, June 27th, 2010

Hamster Hoard wrote a cool magic item, a pair of shortswords called Waiting Storm.

Each blade of The Waiting Storm is a shortsword +1. With every successful strike, a blade will generate one hit point’s worth of stored damage to a maximum of six points stored in each blade. These points may be expended as electrical damage during an attack; alternately, three points may be expended to hold a target for one hour if a save vs. paralysis is failed.

I really like paired magic items. I like to give them to different members of the party, though, and have them interact with each other. I’d just make a couple of tweaks to this item.

1) Instead of shortswords, I’d make them (or at least one of them) a two-handed weapon. I don’t want one ranger wielding both. Perhaps they are Mjollnir-like hammers? Or, if they’re shortswords, they hate each other: anyone holding both takes electricity damage.

2) Instead of damage potential “stored in each blade”, I’d have them both feed a single damage counter. Either player can expend the stored damage – which means that the other player can no longer do so.

3) To increase the game-theory jockeying, I’d maybe add another effect that is more obviously selfish than causing extra damage or paralyzing an opponent. Perhaps by expending 3 points, the user of one of the weapons can become become invincible for a round – or, more diabolically, expending 3 points does 3 points of damage to the other wielder, while giving, say, 6 points of healing to yourself. (The amount of healing can be tweaked: it should be just enough to make it an agonizing decision for the PCs. Maybe the hammers are evil and offer different amounts of healing based on circumstance.)

There, I’ve taken a perfectly nice magic item and turned it into a cursed source of interparty conflict. This is how I’d like to handle cursed items, by the way: not with -1 to hit, but with a mix of good and bad effects that the PCs can’t quite turn down. It’s like the One Ring: It causes invisibility, that’s pretty awesome. But it causes the end of the world, that’s bad.

The Ten Mile Tower – Ground Level

Thursday, June 24th, 2010

A while back, I posted about The Ten Mile Tower, a magical location of my own creation.I recently finished the adventure and it seemed to go over very well with my gaming group, so I thought I’d share it here… in an exciting 11 PART SERIES!!!

Feel free to steal these ideas wholesale or modify them as desired. The intent was to make this awesome location filled with a bunch of crazy but plausible encounters the players had to get through in the span of 24 hours of in game time (several sessions of real time).

(more…)

Every Book’s a Sourcebook: The Fire at Mary Anne’s House

Monday, June 21st, 2010

The Fire at Mary Anne's HouseI have a theory that any book -any book at all – can be used as a D&D sourcebook.

This is the second time I’ve illustrated a Blog of Holding post with a Babysitter’s Club cover. That’s because there are a lot of them around the house. Babysitter’s Club books are my wife’s slumming comfort book, just as 1970’s fantasy/horror novels are mine. “The Fire at Mary Anne’s House” kind of looks like it could be a genre crossover.

I’ve never read “The Fire at Mary Anne’s House”, but I don’t even have to open it to find inspiration for a supernatural horror D&D game. Look at Mary Ann! Her face and posture bespeak guilt, fear, or a deceptive faux-innocence. If she’s not a psychotic or possessed child, there’s a good chance she’s an evil spirit. In any case, I think we all know she burned down that house. From the title of the book, we can infer that she burned down her own house, unless she’s not really Mary Ann.

And how about that tag line? “Can Mary Ann rise from the ashes?” OK, so clearly Mary Ann was burned alive and is returning as some sort of vengeful ghost.

I think that what happened is, people whose bodies are burned but whose souls are unquiet (possibly because of some unfinished baby-sitting business) rise as spirits that the common people called “firebugs”. (Maybe the girl firebugs are called “fire Marys” or “fire Annes”.) Firebugs usually return at night, holding lanterns or candles. A firebug’s only desire is to burn their former homes, enemies or loved ones – everyone and everything they once had strong feelings about.

This is why, in a world where corpses can rise as zombies, cremation is not universal. Cremation can produce a firebug, juts as burial can produce a zombie.

An adventure idea: the PCs enter a village on Lantern Night, a festival where everyone carries a lantern or candle to protect themselves from the spirits who haunt this night. The first person the PCs meet is a solitary little girl with a candle, who speaks confused words about “saving the little ones” and runs towards an abandoned, half-burned house. If the PCs follow, they may be able to stop her from setting the building ablaze. If they don’t, they will have to deal with a fire sweeping through town.

Every Book’s a Sourcebook

From now on, I’ll try to record one d&d rule, adventure, or encounter idea from every book I read. This should be pretty easy, since about 1/2 of what I read is crappy pulp fantasy and sci-fi: the other half is, for the most part, 18th and 19th century novels and early 20th century adventure fiction, most of which has some swashbuckling. So for the most part it won’t be a stretch at all. If I somehow end up with a biography of Carol Burnett, or something, I’ll do my best.

I reserve the right to suppress any super-awesome ideas that I plan to use to surprise players. After all, if I don’t blog about a book, you poor bastards won’t even know I read it.