How to Make a God of the Hyborian Age

Well hey, long time no blog.

I've lately been getting back into the Hyborian Age, the setting of the stories of Conan of Cimmeria, and putting together a world digest for FKR-style play. Mostly this has involved pulling in whatever descriptions from various sources seem most pleasing. There's been a lot written about Conan and his world since Robert E. Howard's first story about the character published in 1932. Much of it contradictory, some of it downright silly. Largely I find the variance useful, because it means I don't have to worry at all about "accuracy," and there's precedent for making up my own crap to throw into the mix. To appropriate something often said about Glorantha, "your Hyborian Age will vary."

Case in point -- Robert E. Howard makes briefest mention of Amazon in his foundational description of the Hyborian Age, one of the African-themed Black Kingdoms. Literally no more than a name, it never appeared in any of the stories he wrote, or any of his unpublished drafts. Inevitably, later pastiches expanded on Amazon by depicting it as an oppressive matriarchy as conceived by a bitterly divorced man, annoyingly typical in adventure fiction of the 70s and 80s. I still wanted to put Amazon on the map, but in a more palatable style, so I've made it a nation of grassland nomads, aloof to outsiders and with a deep hatred for slavers. To foreshadow Amazon myths that would appear in "later" history, I kept the idea of women having high-status in its society through martial prowess, by framing a class of hunters riding saber-toothed cats.

To complete the sketch, I had to ask who they worshiped, and I wanted something unique reflecting their culture, not just slotting one of the established gods into the role. And this entailed evaluating how gods in the Hyborian Age are presented. Broadly, there are two established approaches:

* "Real" gods, who feel more or less in tone with how actual humans conceived divinities in ancient times, entailing priests and temples, the gods themselves never seen directly, more concepts than beings. Conan's often-invoked patron Crom, the "voluptuous" Ishtar, and the paternalistic Mitra are all in this style.

* "Pulp" gods, who are basically bundles of lurid description aimed at supporting the plot of a particular story or two. Yog, the cannibalistic "lord of empty abodes" (and obvious allusion to Yog-Sothoth of the Cthulhu mythos) and Ollam-Onga of Gazal are solidly in this style. 

I don't see much point in adding further pulp gods to the digest ahead of time -- as said, they're plot-specific, and seem mainly to come up when protagonists stumble into a lost city or isolated tribe and have to deal with its profane cult that'll never be seen again. "Our fearsome lord Zkta, the wasp god, hungers for your sacrifice! Hear the approaching thrum of his wings!"

As alluded, one of the consistent themes of the Hyborian Age is elements from our actual history foreshadowed in the setting, ostensibly because these elements are echoes of the forgotten epoch repeating in later ages. And that applies especially to its gods, many of whom are outright versions of real historical gods. There is an implication that these gods are still in a raw state, their myths not yet fully formed, or they are destined to fade from the world leaving only fragmentary lore. Some are notably absent -- the classic gods of Olympus and Asgard -- presumably because they haven't developed yet (and in the the battles between the mortal Aesir and Vanir tribes of Nordheim, we're clearly seeing the genesis of the myths that will one day give rise to that pantheon). 

So with that in mind I dug into mythology, and decided to draw from the Titans of Greece, the deities who preceded the Olympians, since the Amazons are associated with those myths. In a spark of inspiration, I decided Amazon would have twin sister gods, worshiped in tandem, representing contrasting but complimenting aspects of their culture. For the more civilized aspect, I settled on Themis, the "sober-looking personification of justice, divine order, law, and custom," inspiration for the Blind Justice statue of so many courthouses. Also, in a happy coincidence, likely the source of the name Themyscira for the island of the Amazons (Wonder Woman's birthplace) in DC Comics. 

For the other half of the duo, I wanted a hunter-warrior goddess, and chose Tethys. Little of her lore has survived to the modern day, she's mainly known as the wife of Oceanus and mother of many river gods, and a preferred artistic subject on the walls of baths. It was an interesting notion that she had been something wilder in the distant past, and that her association with water was only one small aspect of her originally. 

Futz with the spelling of the names a bit to evoke the sense of earlier iterations, and I ended up with the following:

Temis: The teacher of rhetoric, the giver of proper custom, bearer of strategic wisdom, who holds the judge’s baton. One of the twin goddesses of the Amazons, on all altars she stands beside and equally with her sister Tethis.

Tethis: The master hunter, speaker to animals, knower of the ways through wildlands, finder of water, giver of strength in battle, who carries the first spear. One of the twin goddesses of the Amazons, on all altars she stands beside and equally with her sister Temis.

They fit into the Hyborian Age rather well, I think.

 

Group shot of the gods from Marvel Comics 1986 Official Handbook of the Conan Universe. I'm pretty sure which ones are Adonis, Crom, Bori, Mitra, Gullah, Ymir, Ishtar, Yog, Set and Derketa ... but I've no idea whot the liitle guys lurking in both lower corners are.

 

 

 

 

 

Rusty-Bladed Veterans ... Revised!

I'd been meaning to get back to "Rusty-Bladed Veterans," my hack of "Searchers of the Unknown," and I've finally managed to do it.

If you're unfamiliar, "Searchers of the Unknown" is a clever one-page OSR rules option written by Nicolas Dessaux, built around the idea that if the referee can use a single succinct line of monster stats to portray an NPC warrior, you don't really need anything more for a PC. Nearly exactly two year's ago, I was compelled to offer my own variation, "Rusty-Bladed Veterans."  And now I've finally gotten around to sprucing it up a bit.

Click on this image to Download the PDF

Besides generally clarifying the wording, there are a handful of specific rules changes: 

• Added range modifiers. The original document didn't really address ranged attacks besides listing them as a possible weapon choice.
  
• Added an armor penalty to the cost of HP-based spell-casting, 9 - Worn AC. This gives another reason to go with a sparsely armored character.
• Put some explanatory text on the Movement rating, also implemented a simplifying house-rule to movement I've occasionally applied to B/X.
• Expanded the advancement range up to 8 Hit Dice
  
• Removed the awkward in-combat healing rule. There really was no precedent for it in B/X, and it was a bit fussy to implement in practice. 
• Removed the extra-attacks for higher HD. Again, because they weren't really authentic to the B/X style. I did however keep the bonus attack for killing a foe, because there is some tradition of that in old-school D&D, and it's an easy compensation for lack of room-clearing magic-users in the party.
  

More discreetly, I nudged things a bit to push an implicit niche selection: make a low-AC veteran if you want to be all about combat, go with high-AC if you want to be skillful or aspire to  focus on magic (or at least the ramshackle version that veteran's can manage).

Another issue addressed was how the original "Searchers of the Unknown" arbitrarily replaced some B/X procedures for the referee while leaving others unaddressed. For this revision, I went with the assumption that the "rusty-bladed" rules are entirely player facing, and the referee will be defaulting to the main B/X texts for resources and guidelines. 

As I said with the first version, for a one-shot or short campaign "Rusted-Bladed  Veterans" arguably has some advantages over original B/X, since it's much easier for players to jump in, and it actively follows an often-touted but rarely implemented OSR ideal: putting the emphasis on what the character achieves in play rather than what's on their character sheet.

The Besswox Design Notes which will not be in Beeswox

I've reached the point in assembling Beeswox (a flippintly-launched project I envisioned as taking a couple weeks which is now in its sixth month) of cutting things out to fit in my self-imposed limit of 64 pages (the traditional max size for saddle-stitch binding).

One of the bigger cuts is an appendix of design notes I intended for the last page. Normally I'm a big proponent of the writer taking a moment to explicitly explain how they approached the design and what they want it to do. But under my tight limits, I couldn't justify spending the space on what was essentially a reiteration things said elsewhere (PbtA rules are nothing if not explicit in their process) with some admittedly indulgent proselytizing on top.

But still, I sweated over it enough that I hate to just dump it unseen, so here it is for future posterity (or embarrassment).

Design Notes

Beeswox was more or less begat by Offworlders, a space-adventure WoX-based game with some clever ideas for handling wealth and equipment. It offered a nimble and versatile system that, with just a little work, was easily turned to all sorts of genres and settings. In pursuing that expansion I incorporated bits from other WoX games and useful elaborations from the main Powered by the Apocalypse school. Putting all that together turned into this unified generic WoX rules-set I hadn’t realized I wanted.

But why “World of X” at all? Why the ultra-lite fringe offshoot instead of the more prestigious main PbtA family it spawned from? As much as I respect the excellent work that has gone into many PbtA games, in practice I’ve found moving through their various formalized processes is a bit too esoteric for me. However, approaching those same excellent design principles through traditional elements like Hit Points, Experience Points and damage-rolls comes very easily.

Also, I’m all about minimal rules systems. Role-playing games for me are, before anything else, social gatherings for sharing imagination. The play I enjoy the most is filled with surprises and improvisation and joy sparked by communal creativity. And ever since I first put aside my D&D books in favor of Tunnels & Trolls, I’ve felt that using the fewest rules necessary encourages a focus on the natural conversation where all that great stuff happens. I prefer a sparse toolbox: some guidelines to structure the session, prompts to help the participants imagine the hell out of things, consequences to give a thrill of danger, and spurs to keep the pace up. Anything beyond that drags on momentum.

A significant secondary influence on Beeswox is the “Old School Renaissance.” Of course, given that the first WoX game, World of Dungeons, is a direct evocation of original D&D, and Offworlders is a near-emulation of original Traveller, not much more fine-tuning was needed in that direction, besides making allowances for open-table campaigning.

Subtle Verve

In putting together Beeswox, I ended up adding a couple rules without precedent from the original sources, but I feel they tighten up the system as a whole.

In full PbtA games nearly all character actions and resources are expressed as Moves, little distinct resolution packets that broadly define an action and its potential outcomes. A typical Move is structured more or less like this:

In situation X, roll the dice and add Attribute Y to see if Z1, Z2 or Z3 happens.

In contrast, WoX doesn't use Moves. Instead, for broad actions that any character can attempt it uses simplified general-purpose attribute rolls, results interpreted on the spot based on context. Unique PC resources are expressed by Abilities, which are structured tersely:

Your character can do Z.

As I thought about it, that seemed too broad. Without the "in situation X" limit, there's really nothing to urge a player to consider if an ability is appropriate or not. Some implementations account for this by saying "you can attempt to do Y," but that implies anyone without the ability can't attempt it all, which is a headache of permissions to track.

Other Abilities do add an "in situation X" limit, but on consideration I decided against expanding that to all Abilities because it would have been more text to track in play.

My solution is to give PC's a pool of points, called Verve. New characters start with three, they regenerate to full at the start of each session (one of the things you can get when you advance is an improved Verve pool). To use most Abilities, the player has to spend a Verve point (Abilities of more limited scope are just always on). Basically, each session a player can buy a limited number of pre-defined "I do an awesome" moments, enough for their character to shine but not so many as to bury the developing fiction under spam-attacks.

Pretty simple as a pacing mechanic, and I think it does what I want. However, I was concerned that there really isn't a precedent for this in either PbtA or WoX (that I know of), so I asked around for input. Most replies I got felt it seemed workable, but were concerned it might make play feel like Fate.

That may be true from a very broad perspective, but I don't think it will come close in the details. One of the things I find off-putting about Fate is that keeping on top of the flow of Fate Points and all the Aspects producing and consuming them in a scene can lead to disconnection from the fiction. Players can end up intent on making things happen, but without actually experiencing it viscerally. Big moments become just an exercise in cultivating and deploying Fate Points efficiently. I deliberately set up Verve to have no economy flow to avoid that.





 

Keeping Under Cover

I've been working on a new project:

It's a compilation and weaving together of rules and guidelines from the many rules-light "Powered by the Apocalypse" games which followed John Harper's World of Dungeons (a three page take on what Dungeon World would have looked like in it's "original" 1974 version).

I'll have more to say about the game's rules and my goals for the book, but for now I feel like musing on the synergy between rules design and graphic design. Y'see, originally I designed a cover like this:

I almost always get sidelined into layout and art long before I finish a text. Common wisdom says this is a sloppy way to work, but increasingly I'm seeing it as a productive expression of my mindset. I'm pretty good with words, but I'm at least as visually oriented, and organizing things graphically helps me understand things I don't catch when they're just text.

In this case, the name "Pocket Wox" at first sounded dashingly clever, with allusions to being a useful tool that's also conveniently portable. But as I fussed trying to figure out how to arrange those watch faces, looking at those precise gearworks prompted me to wonder if that was really what I was going for. Am I really making something meticulous and metal-hard? No, it's subjective and pleasingly malleable. With that insight I took another look at the text and spotted areas where I had gotten overly technical and started rewriting with better understanding of where I was going.

And then I changed the name and started browsing the Flickr Commons for pictures of bees.

Veterans of the Rusty Blade

[Edit from 2021: there's a new revision of "RBV" available]

Every now and then, I'm compelled to circle back to the vast cooling deposit left over from the early 2000's D20 eruption, and poke through it once more for salvage. "There's so much here," I think as I pry apart compacted layers of feats with a geology hammer, "so much meticulously crafted work, all free for the taking. There just has to be something I can make from it." 

As is usually the case, the affair begins with The Core Elements Toolbox, an obscure 2005 work by James D. Hargrove and Butch Curry that tried to distill the d20 SRD down into an intense liquor of fast easy role-playing. It doesn't quite work at that goal, for reasons I can't fully articulate, but that may be why I keep coming back to it, trying to figure where the fix needs to go. Which leads me to rifling through the standard SRD's (Fantasy D20, D20 Modern, D20 Future and the "true romantic" SRD derived from original Blue Rose). And it's usually around True Romantic that the fatigue starts to grow, since even that lightened version of the system is a lumbering mechanical behemoth compared to the systems I generally prefer, and I start to doubt if anything D20 can be redeemed.

So then I bounce out to Mocrolite20 to get some breathing room. Which is refreshing at first, but by laying bare the core bones of D20, Microlite rather starkly forces me to (again) realize the central problems with that whole school of design. Mechanical character optimization and min-maxing as a primary mode of play, lunk-headedly linear resolution and modelling, and constant built-in roadblocks and speed-bumps intended to wring player initiative through a sieve of incremental advancement. Somehow, the whole manages to be both burdensome yet insubstantial, a expansive act of running in place to look busy.

Unsurprisingly, I always end my latest D20 tangent frustrated and jumping to some other project to clear my head of the affair. What I'm saying is, this is why I re-wrote Searchers of the Unknown over the weekend. So here's Rusty-Bladed Veterans.

Click the image to download the PDF

There's a lot to like about SotU, but I perceived issues with it. The language was loose at the cost of clarity. And while the stated goal was B/X style play, it introduced several eccentric elements leading to a much more combat-focused experience. Because I'd just been trudging through D20, it was clear that the original writer of SotU had carried over a few 3E-era assumptions upon creating it. All of which were things I wanted to change. Additionally, I aimed to make the rules thoroughly compatible with B/X resources without conversion; I wanted to be able to send a "Rusty-Bladed" party through B2 The Lost City using every line of the adventure's text as written. Also, I wanted to be able to run standard B/X classes alongside those characters, if it so happened old-hand players showed up for such a session.

On top of that, I threw in some elements from other SotU hacks I liked, the clever spell-casting system from Microlite20 and a means for characters to learn spells from scrolls (which weirdly I had assumed was already part of the original SotU; wonder where I picked that notion up).

I'm really pleased with how Rusty-Bladed Veterans came out. I dare even say I'd prefer using it over full B/X, since starting all characters on the same foot eliminates a lot of the disorienting disparities players have traditionally had to deal with (thief skills in particular come to mind, and demi-human abilities), doubly so for new players. Plus I prefer magical abilities earned as a consequence of play rather than as preordained advancements. I'm looking forward to seeing how this plays out at the table.

Howls of October: the Blue-a-Jeun

It's October, and I've got a bunch of fearsome monsters for Swords & Wizardry: White Box I've been looking forward to sharing. Here's the first!

Sobbing in desperation, a wiry scar-faced man fled over the darkened twisty forest road, a pouch clutched desperately to his chest. Chimes of rich gems sounded every time the pouch shook. The wolf pack rushed through the brush on both sides now, and despair swelled in the scar-faceed man; only moments were left until he was entirely surrounded. But far worse was the singular lupine beast snapping at his heels with manifestly cruel glee, a living shadow so black it seemed to flash blue with every move. The man’s mind reeled from his manifest doom, cursing whatever spirit had led these wolves out to this normally placid country where their like hadn’t been heard in a generation. It wasn’t fair, he’d been so careful, planning the theft, choosing the escape route … he’d even shrewdly eliminated his feckless partner Geoff after the job, pushing him off the path when it looped around a cliff-face, if not killed by the fall to be helplessly devoured by the beasts of the forest … Suddenly the scar-faced man had a terrible realization and glanced back. The black-blue wolf returned the stare with uncanny familiarity, turning to hate redoubled as it lunged forward.

Blue-a-Jeun

Armor Class: 6 [13]

Hit Dice: 3, 4, 5, 6

Attacks: Bite (1d6+1)

Special: see below

Move: 18

HDE / XP: 4 / 120, 5 / 240, 6 / 400, 7 / 600

Original image by Nathan Siemers, modified by me,

CC BY-SA 2.0

When a wolf of jet-black pelt chances by fate to devour the flesh of one given over to hate, that spirit of ire takes hold of the wolf and turns it into a instrument of cruel retribution, becoming a Blue-a-Jeun.

This monster hunts at night, singling out one victim per evening, someone who the spirit believes betrayed or wronged them. Possessed of man-like intelligence, the Blue-a-Jeun will stalk shrewdly, easily bypassing traps and barriers that would confound normal wolves. 

The creature’s deep midnight blue-black pelt renders it nearly invisible at night, in shadowed forests or similar settings, granting it a 5-in-6 chance of attacking with surprise in such dimly-lit locations.

The Blue-a-Jeun gains an additional permanent Hit Die for each intelligent being it slays and feasts upon, up to a maximum total of 6 Hit Dice. Additionally, the Blue-a-Jeun gains the memories of those it devours, which it will exploit in future hunts. 

The Blue-a-Jeun is accompanied by a pack of normal wolves, 2 per Hit Die, who will sense and obey their master’s wishes.

Use in the campaign: The Blue-a-Jeun may be an old foe of the party, impossibly returned to inflict misery upon them. Or perhaps the adventurers will hear tales of a beast terrorizing a small village, picking off peasants as the antipathies of its spirit dictate, in which case the challenge is as much to deduce who to protect next as it is facing the monster itself. It is key for the Referee to express both the Blue-a-Jeun’s intelligence and obsession; it won’t risk its life carelessly, but neither will it  forget it’s chosen prey.

White Box doesn’t have stats for normal wolves in the main text, so here they are translated from the Monster Book: 

Normal Wolf

Armor Class: 7 [12]

Hit Dice: 2

Attacks: bite

Special: none

Move: 18

HDE / XP: 2 / 30

The Journeyman Class

This is a follow-up to my previously posted "Genius" rules for Swords & Wizardry: White Box. In that post, I referred to the Journeyman class, which is built to take particular advantage of Genius, so here are the particulars.

Clearly, this is just a modification of the White Box Thief class (as first presented in James Spahn's White Box Companion and then adopted fully into White Box: Fantasy Medieval Adventure Game), and it's intentionally designed so that players looking to play a traditional thief can easily use this class for such. However, there are some changes that may need explanation:

• I'm generous with XP bonuses, thus every class in my campaign has two prime attributes rather than just one.
• Back-stabbing is an option for any character, thus why it's not specified for this class. To backstab, a character must successfully position themselves to attack the target unaware. A backstab grants a +2 bonus to hit and if successful the character rolls damage twice, inflicting the higher result +2.
• I moved guild establishment to 8th level from 9th. Partially this was so certain demi-human races with level limits would have a chance at establishing domain-level bases. But also my impression is that guilds are a softer, more subtle power base than strongholds and temples, and a town-based redoubt serves as a good stepping stone for other members of the party before hacking a stronghold out of the wilderness. 

 

Journeyman

While some adventurers rely on their battle prowess, and others their magical might, Journeyman get by on skill and cleverness. Having just completed their apprenticeships in their craft, Journeymen take to the road to hone their skills and find fortune, hoping one day to be recognized as Masters. A Journeyman may be a professional surveyor, architect, troubadour, apothecary, shipwright, scholar or any of a hundred other trades, including such dubious vocations as thief, assassin or spy.

Yes, you can even be a Barber.

Prime Attributes: Dexterity, Intelligence.

Weapons and Armor Restrictions: Journeymen may wield any weapon, but magical weapons are limited to daggers and swords. It is frowned upon by the guilds for Journeymen to engage in martial posturing, so they may only wear leather armor, and may not carry shields.

Enhanced Genius: Journeymen acquire points of Genius faster than other classes, 1 every two levels rather than every four.

Secret Technique: Once per session, a Journeyman may throw twice for a single Genius use, and keep the better result.

Decipher Languages: Journeymen are familiar with a great variety of documentation, so can figure out the gist of most mundane writing. They comprehend the general intent of foreign books, treasure maps or other text on a throw of 3-6 on 1d6. This does not mean they automatically decipher codes or solve riddles, although they understand a riddle's phrasing. A journeyman may attempt to apply this ability to magical writing, to identify what spell is written on a scroll, but only succeeds with 5-6 on 1d6 in such a case. Once identified, they may attempt to cast the spell from the scroll, but again only have a 5-6 on 1d6 chance of success, and the referee is free to apply dire consequences for a mis-read casting.

Saving Throw Bonus: Journeymen gain a +2 bonus on saving throws against devices, including traps, magical wands or staffs, and other magical mechanisms.

Establish Guild Hall (8th): At eighth level, a Journeyman may be declared a Master by the guild elders, and granted right to build a chapter hall in a city or large town. The hall will attract students of the craft and others seeking the master’s endorsement, and give the Master influence over the town's affairs and politics.

Class Level	Experience Progression	Total Genius	Hit Dice	To Hit	Saving Throw
1	0	1	1	+0	14
2	1,250	2	2	+0	13
3	2,500	2	3	+0	12
4	5,000	3	3+1	+1	11
5	10,000	3	4	+1	10
6	20,000	4	5	+2	9
7	40,000	4	6	+2	8
8	80,000	5	6+1	+3	7
9	160,000	5	7	+3	6
10	320,000	6	8	+4	5

Genius: Yet Another Approach to Skills in OSR Play

Recently the G-Plus OSR community has been talking a lot about skill systems. So here's my current take on it.

Skills are a thorny subject in the context of old school gaming. Learning to embrace the freedom that comes from forgoing codified action resolution is one of the major experiences of old school play, and yet it can't be denied that delineated skills show up early in role-playing's history. And it can't be ignored that most people, when role-playing, expect to have defined skills on their character sheets.

Skills are definitely utilitous, from a purely procedural perspective. They offer quick clear means to resolve events and to define the capacities of characters. Unfortunately they tend to take the narrative away from discussion and negotiation, turning it over to the dice instead. And they curtail player initiative by discouraging any action that doesn't have a clear numerical advantage behind it. Players blanch at trying anything they can't calculate the odds on, designers try to get over this by expanding the skill list, until the track leads to something like Basic Role-Playing as implemented in Runequest where even such specific actions as drawing a map and appraising the value of gems are defined skills.  

But still, it's tempting to add skills to the game. Class options can be expanded handily simply by adding some skill to the regular classes. Rangers and Druids are pretty much just Fighters and Clerics with some Wilderness Survival training, after all. And it allows for slight variations without having to build whole new classes to accommodate them. No need to figure out a "Sailor" class when you can just add Semanship to any character. The trick is adding an option that by its presence doesn't imply everyday-incompetence in characters without the skill, nor demands that a whole host of numbers be added to the character sheet just to address edge cases.

Well ... I'm out of preamble chatter, so here's what I've got. I call my approach Genius, as in "He has a genius for weaving tapestries."

The core mechanics I've built Genius around I first saw in Christopher Cale's Backswords & Bucklers, his reinterpretation of S&W: White Box for urban adventures in Elizabethan England. I've since found it earlier utilized in Rob Ragas's alternate White Box thief class, the Treasure Seeker, published in Knockspell issue #2. I've yet to see it in an earlier source, so I assume, until shown otherwise, it's Ragas's invention.

Regardless of origin, the approach immediately appealed to me because it put the focus of resolution not on pass/fail, but on time, the most important resource of an adventurer, the passage of which is the danger intensifier of any adventure.  It doesn't really matter if you can unlock the door, so much as if you can unlock it before being discovered by somebody with reason to stop you.

 

Genius, a System for Character Excellence

Every character has aptitude in a non-combat, non-magical field of expertise. All characters start with 1 point of Genius to define as they choose. Characters of the Journeyman* class gain an additional point of Genius every two levels, all other classes gain 1 point every four levels. Points of Genius gained after the 1st level may be added to an existing field of expertise, or used to start ones new to the character. 

*The Journeyman is my take on the role typically filled by the Thief

Some potential types of Genius:

• Wilderness Travel
• Ancient Lore
• Masonry & Construction
• Religious Ceremony
• Weaponcraft
• Politics & Statecraft
• Seamanship
• Trade & Barter
• Burglary
• Taxonomy of Monsters
• Forgery & Counterfeiting
• Brewing & Cooking
• Music, Dance & Theater
• Alchemy

Defining Genius

A Genius should entail broad related areas of endevour, any one Genius enough to qualify as a full career in itself. A good rule of thumb is that any single Genius should imply at least two distinctly different kinds of activity. For instance, Seamanship entails knot-tying and ship-building, and Burglary entails stealthy movement and maintaining underworld contacts. Goals of action cannot be forms of Genius in themselves (Persuade, Intimidate, Deceive, Climb, etc.).

Casual use of genius always succeeds; a sailor can tie a quick knot, a ranger can find fresh water in a forest, a sage can name an ancient queen, all without needing to throw dice.

 

Resolving Challenging Use of Genius 

To check genius in a challenging situation, throw 1d6 twice. The first throw determines how many units of time the effort takes. This can be days, hours, turns or rounds depending on what makes sense for the situation (maybe even years!) but usually it’ll be turns.

The second throw determines positive or neutral results. Add the points of a character’s relevant Genius to the throw, and the relevant attribute modifier if the referee allows it. If the total is 6 or higher, the effort succeeds. Characters may subtract 1 from the initial time result for every point a successful throw exceeds 6. If after modification the time throw is zero or less, the effort requires only one unit of the next lower time increment (hours down to a turn, turns down to a round, and so on)

Characters only know if they succeeded or failed after the determined interval has passed. Conditions permitting, they may keep spending time to make further attempts at the same effort until they succeed.

If the attempted effort would require less time than is relevant to the current context of play (rounds when exploring a dungeon, turns when crossing wilderness) then don't bother rolling, just call it a success and move on.

 

Miraculous Results

If a character has enough of a bonus between Genius, attribute modifiers and magical benefits to guarantee success (+5 or more) they may try for miraculous results, literally fantastical feats beyond the ken of normal mortal arts. Simply subtract 5 from the total bonus and otherwise resolve the attempt as described above.If the character succeeds, they have performed a miracle, fit for legend.

A Miraculous use of the Textiles Genius; she's sewing together a cloak literally made from the laughter of children.

Stupid, Stupid Luck

I rather like stories where serendipity plays as much a factor as skill and strength to win the day, and a growing amalgamation of mischance looms over all until something prosaic resolves it unexpectedly.

For example, I'm currently watching The Irresponsible Captain Tylor, a satirical anime poking fun at the heroic space-battleship genre, with a lead character who gets by mainly through blind fortune and refusal to acknowledge the seriousness of any situation.

By the way, this series is legitimately free to watch on youtube.

So of course I eventually mused how to implement this in an OSR fashion. Here's one possible approach.

Add a trait called Stupid, Stupid Luck. Every session, it begins with a value equal to 10 minus the character's current level. Yes, "stupid" being stated twice is vital to this mechanic. Vital.

In any given situation or encounter, the character may attempt to roll against their Stupid, Stupid Luck by throwing a d20. if the die lands greater than the current value, luck is against them and things get worse (probably in a non-lethal but embarrassing way) but they get to raise the value by 1d3 points.

If the die lands less than or equal to the current value, luck is on their side and things align in their favor, preferably in a way that is non-violent and paradoxically mundane. The dragon that was about to breathe on them develops a distracting case of hiccups, the sprung trap turns out to have been accidentally loaded with harmlessly pleasant lilac powder, the ogre gang boss turns out to be an old football buddy. However, after the success the value of Stupid, Stupid Luck is halved.

In practice this should lead to a progression where the character depending on luck suffers several indignities only to end up on top at the end, smelling of roses ... or lilacs.

Ways to implement this could be as a character class for whom it's their main ability. Call the class, say, the Blessed Idiot using the Cleric's advancement tables. Or as a communal resource the whole party can make use of. For a truly bonkers game, every character could have Stupid, Stupid Luck, possibly even monster's and NPC's.

HaberDash: First Cut

I've been mulling over playing cards in a roleplaying context for quite a while now, at least since Everway and definitely since the SAGA versions of Marvel Superheroes and Dragonlance. It seemed like something that should be easy, drama powered by, instead of the proprietary decks of those previously mentioned games, the elegant probabilities and imagery of a generic traditional deck.

The Saks-Werbespiel deck, displayed on the excellent World of Playing Cards.

But for whatever strange reason, there hasn't been a card-based roleplaying game published (at least not that I've heard of. EDIT: since I wrote that, folks have reminded me of Castle Falkenstein). And my own attempts to write one kept drying out in conceptual dead-ends. Frustrated, I hadn't done anything with the project in years.

Until yesterday when, literally on the verge of sleep, the seed of a system abruptly coalesced in my mind. I've been reading several minimalist designs lately (particularly Minimal6) so perhaps my long-latent notions got hooked by a new concept, pulling things together. Whatever the genesis, here's what I've got so far. Feedback would be greatly appreciated.

  HaberDash; first cut

(Note: previously these rules were called "Cheap Suits.")

0.0 Set-Up.

These are rules for tabletop roleplaying. They assume a traditional arrangement for such, one person serving as a GM (game moderator) who presents a scenario to one or more players each running a character of their making. Play will require note-cards, pencils and a full deck of playing cards (all four suits plus jokers).

1.0 Making a Character.

Divide thirteen marks between the four suits of Clubs, Diamonds, Hearts and Spades.

Clubs represent speed, dexterity, reflex and sudden intuition.

Diamonds represent endurance, slow action and deliberation.

Hearts represent awareness, logic and erudition.

Spades represent forceful action, strength and intimidation.

Each suit may have no fewer than one mark and no more than six. Three is about average.

Describe three Qualities, each a short but evocative phrase declaring something heroic about the character. These must be things that both help the character excel in particular situations but just as often lead to complications in others.

1.1 Example Characters.

Emma “WireShadow” Bequist

(cyberpunk outlaw)

♣♣♣♣♣

♦♦♦

♥♥♥

♠♠

-Hacker pioneer, spelunker of the deepest data caverns.

-Modified this myself, I’m testing some new ideas.

-Everyone on the Network has heard of me.

Brutalina

(sword & sorcery adventurer)

♣♣♣

♦♦♦

♥♥♥

♠♠♠♠

-Blood-furious berzerker.

-Barbarian daughter of the Iceblue Mountains.

-Furious passions, deep melancholies.

XX-878

(galactic wanderer)

♣

♦♦♦♦♦♦

♥♥♥

♠♠♠

-Last of the Armageddon Androids.

-Enough plasma warheads to level a city block.

-I’ve seen things you people wouldn’t believe.

Katherine Zephrenos

(courtly wizardess)

♣♣

♦♦♦♦

♥♥♥♥

♠♠♠

-A weaver of illusions.

-Always dressed in sharpest fashion.

-On first-name terms with a devil or two.

2.0 Facing Challenges.

When the character is faced by a challenge of uncertain outcome, the GM will decide which suit is most appropriate. The player then draws as many cards as they have marks in that suit, meeting the challenge if any of the cards match the suit. The number value of the matching card indicates how well they succeed. If multiples of the same suit are drawn, the player acts per the single most advantageous value.

Drawing no matching suits means a failure.

Values 1-5 mean an iffy success entailing complications. The lower the number, the worse the complication. 

Values 6-10 indicate a superlative success granting dividends, the higher the number the better the bonus.

If the character has a quality relevant to the challenge they are facing, they may draw an additional card or improve the value of one of the cards already drawn by 2.

Royalty cards (Jack, Queen and King) offer power, but at a price. Royalty can be worth 10, but taking it requires the player declare a complication based on one of the character’s qualities. If the player turns down the 10 (and connected complication) the royalty card is worth nothing.

If a joker is drawn, regardless if the player also draw any successful cards, the GM may declare a complication, up to changing the entire nature of the scene.

The deck should be reshuffled after the second joker has been drawn.

 

3.0 Future Cuts

Things I want to consider for the next cut:

The probabilities so far are pulled out of thin air; a suit rating of 3 as "average" just feels about right, I've no math to back it up. Actual play will likely indicate needs for adjusting the numbers.

A consequence mechanic of some kind (in other words something like Hit Points); the obvious way is to check off suit marks, but that seems a bit blunt.

An oracular system for the GM, by which they can also draw cards to build situations and opposition.

I may or may not add skills to characters; a preliminary idea is a simple binary thing that let's one draw an additional card only if a suit card hasn't been drawn yet.

I haven’t as yet thought of a mechanic to dial the difficulty of challenges, but I doubt one is really needed.

Likewise, there’s no advancement mechanic, but I’m comfortable not bothering with one.

Up and Away! My First Icons Characters

In order to get around the ubiquitous D&D Adventurer League events hogging up space at public gaming venues, I've been considering offering to run a superhero game at a neighborhood comic shop. But which system? Superhero gaming is sort of my white whale; a genre I very much enjoy with incredible potential for tabletop play, but I'd yet to find rules that properly clicked. And I've been looking all the way back since Villains & Vigilantes.

A few years ago I had good success with Supers!, but have since found parts of it at odds with my preferences. I took a chance on FASERIP (a retroclone of the 1980's Marvel Superheroes game) and had some fun rolling up characters, but ultimately decided it lacked proper GM support systems. Commentary indicated that Icons was the spiritual successor to Marvel Superheroes so I finally abandoned my resistance* to it and tracked down a copy.

I've got the Green Ronin printing of this ... which has some noticeable typos and editing mistakes. I may get the Ad Infinitum POD just to see if they were corrected.

*Why did I resist Icons for so long? Possibly out of a bizarre notion that Icons was competing for the same niche as Supers! and I had an existing loyalty to Simon Washbourne's work.

On an initial read-through, it looks like Icons is exactly what I've been looking for, a fast and breezy system unhindered by detailed modeling but with strong support for tone and genre tropes, and prompts to encourge creativity rather than procedures that contain it.

As my first glimmer of actual-play, let's see what I get when I roll up character's for the first time (character portraits are snagged off-the-cuff from GIS with no attempt made at attribution):

Quantum Cop

Origin: Transformed

Attributes
Prowess: 2 (Poor)
Coordination: 4 (Fair)
Strength: 2 (Poor)
Intellect: 6 (Great)
Awareness: 4 (Fair)
Willpower: 6 (Great)

Powers
Shrinking: 6 (1" tall, Limit: max only)
Duplication: 4 (Limit: only when shrunk)
Fast Attack: 6 (Limit: only when shrunk)
Leaping: 4 (about a city block, Limit: only when shrunk)

Specialties
Investigation
Law
Science

Qualities
"Always on the case"
"Lack of funding keeps me clever"
"Never truly know where I am"

Determination: 2
Stamina: 8

A brilliant and dedicated but unassuming forensic lab scientist, Phoebe Boson was ambushed in her lab one night by criminals out to destroy damning evidence she'd uncovered in their case. Locking her in an experimental quantum-scanning device to create an "accident," the rays of the machine instead imbued her with the ability to express quantum characteristics. After foiling her attackers, Phoebe now serves as the mysterious special agent Quantum Cop.

This was a pleasing result for my first try at the char-gen system. Definitely a concept I didn't have in mind going in and was happily surprised to end up with. I confess, to get the final result to match the crystallized image, I freely tweaked the results, trading in some attribute and power levels and adding the "only when shrunk" limit to buy the Leaping power, which isn't actually how the char-gen system works RaW. I'd allow (even encourage) such trading in a game I ran, but other referees may not be so flexible.

R.E.C.O.N. (Robotic Extreme Combat Operations Nocturnal)

Origin: Artificial

Attributes
Prowess: 2 (Poor)
Coordination: 5 (Good)
Strength: 5 (Good)
Intellect: 6 (Great)
Awareness: 7 (Incredible)
Willpower: 5 (Good)

Powers
Adaptation: 7
Detection: 3 (Heat)
Life Support: 5 (No need to breath, eat, drink, sleep and immune to disease)

Specialties
Military, Expert
Technology
Weapons (firearms)

Qualities
"Mission objectives ... targeted"
"A two-hundred million dollar asset"
"Just because it's war doesn't mean we can't be civil"

Determination: 2
Stamina: 10

An android built to survey and survive even the most extreme of battlefield conditions, with secondary roles as sniper and ambusher (often serving with counterpart units A.R.M.O.R. and S.T.R.I.K.E.). After several years of experience, R.E.C.O.N. has developed a professional pride in its performance and a unexpectedly personable demeanor (it enjoys trivia contests and collecting knock-knock jokes).

I like this one as well, but it took a bit more effort to get it to solidify. Again, I freely tweaked on the fly to bring things together. Particularly, I trashed a couple rolls that gave power ratings of 1 (I don't even see why that's a possible result, since there's no compensation) and swapped the +2 Strength bonus that comes with the Artificial origin for +2 Awareness in line with the reconnaissance role. In the end, though I ended up with an interesting character, R.E.C.O.N. works better as a NPC or antagonist than a player-hero.

Dame Diamond 

Origin: Gimmick

Attributes
Prowess: 5 (Good)
Coordination: 6 (Great)
Strength: 5 (Good)
Intellect: 5 (Good)
Awareness: 5 (Good)
Willpower: 4 (Fair)

Powers
Binding: 4 (Device: confetti cane; Extra: Burst)
Swinging: 4 (Device: confetti cane)

Specialties
Performance (dancing)
Martial Artist
Sleight of Hand

Qualities
"Wealth and fame I do Not ignore"
"Always looks good doing it"
"Knows who to know in theater"

Diana Karat was a multi-talented performer too good for the hack magician she was stuck serving as assistant to. When she learned his show was just cover for lucrative heists, she leapt into action (with full stage costume and props) to personally thwart his scheme (and not incidentally use the resulting arrest to break her contract). Flattered by the stunning front-page photos her exploit earned, she decided to pursue the crime-fighting gig full-time.

After ending up with a police officer and soldier, I began this character aiming for something decidedly non-institutional, so I deemed they'd be an artist before even touching the dice. Unsurprisingly I went with a dancer (it's a bit hard to justify an action-adventure sculptor). I like this flashy and well-rounded character who is much more of a broadly capable "adventurer" than the previous two. I don't recall nudging anything in char-gen, but the "gimmick" origin revealed I'd prefer a bit more explicit consequences and trade-offs for device-based powers. I suppose it could be argued that the vulnerabilities that come with a device are offset by versatility (Dame Diamond can just loan her Confetti Cane to anyone who needs it) so it's not really the issue I perceive it as; too much min-maxing instinct in me.