Find the Dwarf!

 He's not got treasure or anything; but he's in there.

Scale: 10 ft.
Click here for a PDF version of this adventure!

As I've mentioned in the past, I am prone to long swaths of descriptive text or purple prose. Writing dungeons for OSR consumption - then - becomes a challenge: to make a dungeon adventure more usable, more suitable to a home sandbox, it's a service to the product and to the reader to be terse: to provide few notes so that the referee has enough material to build on, but likewise ample room to expand, to flavor, and to fit the adventure into their setting and tone. This adventure - thus - is an exercise in brevity: it is a fully inclusive adventure, runnable on its own, but also one of my shortest PDFs - clocking in only 6 pages at font size 12 despite having 19 keyed rooms. 

So - let me know what you think! Does this format work better, or do you prefer the more descriptive version - with set dressing peppered into the empty rooms?

Delve on, readers!

 

I) Stairs lead into the level in this room. They hover - supported by apparently nothing - and the underside of the stairs glow luminously - enough to light the space in a dim tone. If anything ferrous touches the glowing portion, it becomes magnetized: granting a +1 bonus to hit against armored opponents, but imposing a -1 penalty to hit if the wielder is wearing armor. On mundane equipment, the effect is permanent; magical equipment is affected only for 1d4 hours.

II) The secret door to the south has been discovered by 5 Goblins (B36), who are trying to pry it open.

III) A metal cage encloses a pedestal with a resplendent black orb. Inside, several dry-mummified bodies: all looking to have been geriatric when they died. If a character touches the metal cage - they must Save vs Spells or age 1d8 years. The door is locked.

The orb functions as Crystal Ball: but when looking underground or in a dark place, will function better - producing a clearer, more detailed picture - than in bright light: in which it will appear blurry.

IV) In the south of the room are two hives containing 7 Killer Bees (B37). In the one can be found 2 doses of the Killer Bees' curative honey; in the other can be found a satchel containing 200sp in addition to a further 500gp.

V) In the hall here is a pit trap, 10' wide by 10' long by 20' deep. Characters in the area of the trap if it activates must Save vs Paralysis or fall - taking 2d6 damage and stranding them at the bottom of the pit.

VI) In the center of this chamber, iron bars block half the hall - three times - in sequence, such that a character might have to zig-zag while walking to get around. Phantom bars block the other half of each - translucent and intangible, but visible. A character has no ill effect from walking through the phantom bars.

VII) Several Elf-like, but not Elf, figures are dancing, floating around a foot off the ground, as though in a ballroom. When the party enters, they will dissipate.

VIII) Hanging in the narrow, central to the room, is a massive nest containing 10 Killer Bees (B37). Inside the nest can be found 4 doses of their curative honey: likewise entombed in part of the nest - such that if it is opened or removed, the hive will be damaged - is a large wooden chest with iron straps. Inside the chest can be found 800 sp, 100 gp, two zircon stones worth 10 gp each, and an oval diamond worth 100 gp.

IX) Against the south wall of this space is a barred section protecting a pool, rippling despite the stillness of the room, and glowing slightly - as though back-lit underneath. If the party finds a way into the space and dips an item into the pool, it will glow like a torch for 2d4 turns. If a character immerses themselves in it, the character's skin will glow - as a candle: not enough to light the way - for 1d4 turns: but at the end of the adventure, the character will benefit from a 10% bonus to XP earned for the adventure. Immersing one character or immersing up to 1d6 items will cause the magic to fade, the slight glow of the pool going dark. The pool will refresh its magic at midnight of the next full moon.

X) Trapped in this room are 4 Normal Wolves (B44). A mostly-eaten beastmaster lies on the floor. His armor is ruined, his rations consumed, but he has some miscellaneous survival gear and a pouch containing 400 sp and 100 gp.

XI) A candelabra with no candles - rusted and heavy - hangs in this space. The candelabra is trapped. If a trigger plate is stepped on while traversing the room, the candelabra falls: roll to hit any character underneath - THAC0 14 - for 1d8 damage. The trap resets itself after one turn has passed.

XII) An idol head hangs from a pillar in the ceiling, suspended over the floor. It faces North. It will turn on a pivot freely and - if pointed to face either of the two secret doors, an audible unlocking noise can be heard. If either door is unlocked, it can be pushed inwards and will slide down. If either door is locked, it will not budge - appearing simply a section of wall. If one door is open, the idol cannot be turned to face away from it. 

XIII) A lone Dwarf (B35) - dazed and bereft - is hiding in this space, their party having been defeated and themselves having fled. The door to the east is locked; the door to the west, the Dwarf has spiked shut.

XIV) In the center of the room is a stone circle, on which lie 700 silver pieces. Surrounding the stone circle, a concentric circular depression, roughly two inches deep, filled with a seemingly innocuous liquid. A character can walk through the liquid - no problem - however, the floors of this room, if a part of the character wet by the liquid comes into contact with them, will stick fast and can only be pulled loose on 1-in-6, modified by Strength. Additionally, when a character stands on the center circle, it will depress slightly. There is a cumulative chance - X-in-6, where X is the number of characters on the circle, that the circle falls through, sinking suddenly to a 10 foot depth, filling with the liquid and potentially drowning any character stuck to the circle by aforementioned contact with the glue liquid.

XV) A shrine has been tucked into the corner of this space. If a character touches the idol in the shrine, its eyes will flare and a path will illuminate on the walls leading to XII.

XVI) This room is separated from the hall by iron bars. The door to this space is locked. Along the south and east walls are tables - for surgery or for torture: it's not clear. On further investigation, a pouch containing 600 sp and 500 gp has been slipped into a sluice under a metal drain.

XVII) A clutch of 9 Kobolds (B37) have made a home in the northern section here. Among their possessions is a key to the door to room 16. There is a snare in the hallway leading to this area which will raise a bladed net - ensnaring one character within it. When the net triggers, roll to hit, THAC0 18, to deal 1d6 damage, of the netted character. Regardless of hit, that one target is ensnared. If an ensnared character breaks out of the net without assistance, they will take 1d6 damage. 

XVIII) Chuckling in this dead end are 13 Halflings (B36). They have just entered the dungeon via the stairwell in room 20, seeking the Dwarf in room 13, and have followed the corridor to the dead end - the anti-climactic nature of which has struck them as funny.

XIX) Stairs lead into this room from outside the level. The south wall to this space is comprised of iron bars. The door to the east is locked; the door to the west is ajar. In the center of the barred wall is a wrought iron face with pursed lips. The face is trapped - it is sensitive to heat and a character drawing close enough to inspect it may trigger a cloud of material to blow out of the face's lips. Save vs Breath or be blinded for 1d4 hours. The mechanism is controlled by an electrum modulation coil, accessible from underneath the mask. The coil is work 90 gp.

Horror in my Home Game: Part 2

Anchor.fm/Clerics-Wear-Ringmail: Episode 3 -
Horror in my Home Game: Part 2!

Description

How can you successfully integrate horror into your home game? This episode continues looking into the pillars of horror - focusing on Revulsion - and answers some call-ins: both regarding the horror subject and regarding the podcast, in general. 

Some segments of rough audio - but again, having learned from the experience, it's better than it was and will continue to improve.

Theme Music by XTaKeRux, Free Music Archive: https://freemusicarchive.org/music/XTaKeRuX

Show Notes

• 00:00 - Intro
• 00:29 - Theme
• 00:48 - Call In: Joe Richter from Hindsightless
• 05:14 - Call In: Jason from Nerd's Variety RPG Podcast
• 06:57 - Revulsion!
• 16:45 - Audio Quality Apology and Segway into More Call Ins!
• 17:20 - Call In: B.J. from the Arcane Alienist
• 18:27 - Call In: More Joe Richter from Hindsightless
• 19:31 - Call In: More Jason from Nerd's Variety RPG Podcast
  
• 20:25 - Outro and Teaser for Next Episode
  
• 21:21 - Theme & Legalese

Links

Hindsightless (https://anchor.fm/joe-richter9)

Nerd's Variety RPG Podcast (https://anchor.fm/jason376)

Arcane Alienist (https://anchor.fm/arcanealienist)

Grizzly Peaks Radio (https://anchor.fm/andy-goodman9/)

...and Expedition To the Grizzly Peaks (https://anchor.fm/andy-goodman8/)

Nightmare Dragons

"Where am I?" she thought as the spinning darkness slowly lost its momentum. 

Her skin beneath the thief's leathers was prickled at the cold black. Sitting up, a headache: some soreness in the muscle - but ... unharmed? Was her dagger missing? No... neither her pack. The lantern? The lantern!

A sudden urgency worked its way into her rib cage. Rummaging into her pack, she fumbled at the buckle - a clatter as something fell - a curse at herself: where was her flint? She needed the flint.

"Maejea."

It wasn't a question - more an observation, the Dwarf's voice in the darkness.

"Radovan!"

Clutching the pack closed to her stomach, Maejea felt her way over to the voice's point of origin.

"I've a torch beside me," the Dwarf said, his voice forced, deliberate, "but I'm not sure you want to light it. I've got a nasty break in the leg it'd be like to show."

"You've got a working mouth in your beard, though, Radovan," she replied, "That's a start."

The torch was in her hand in a moment; her heartbeat again regular, the flint soon followed. It was in the small pouch she'd stitched to the pack's flap, near the strap. Steeling herself, she went to work on the torch.

And a click.

She paused. Silence to her left. An inquiring grunt in a Dwarfish tone. Back to work - the torch was fresh; alight - trailing smoke upwards. She held it aloft; removing herself from the billows, offering them instead to the distant cavern ceiling.

A click in the darkness. This time, to her right. Then silence.

"We'd best double back," she said, "I haven't heard Bogdana or Erluf - we'll need to get out if we're apt to get our bearings." 

Radovan was heavy - it helped... she pulled his hand over her shoulder... that he could put part of the combined weight of Dwarf and armor on his good leg. They dragged a few steps together. Her foot slipped - she shifted, looking down, caught herself. Looking up again...

A hiss - not a hiss, a cacophonous whisper: a voice in the sound of molten steel quenching in a pool.

"Don't forget to write."

From above, a neck came into view - the length of a man, the thickness of his thigh - atop it came the head, a smiling loaf: a row of daggers on daggers - taunting. Smiling.

A scream.

Her own scream.

An exclamation of pain and the thump of flesh and steel on flagstones - and the fleeting light of a torch, flickering, its flame fighting against a quenching faux wind, bypassing with rapidity the still cavern air: bound to a fleeing, clutching hand.

Laughter.

Why We Fear the Dark

Nightmare Dragons are the beast in the dark - the monster in the sweltering depths. Their scales are jet black and have a reflective quality to them, as though polished: enough to glimmer in torchlight if caught at the right distance. Their wings are bat-like, their tails terminating in a triangular bone prong, usable as a barbed whip. Their snouts are long - like a gharial - and lined with long teeth standing side by side in almost machine-like precision of their order and orientation. 

Nightmare Dragons are found in deep caves within a few hours flight of civil settlement: or in the deep places where they might creep on under-dwellers. They are only encountered outside of these caverns at night, hiding from the moonlight.

Encountering Nightmare Dragons

Nightmare Dragon
Armor Class:	1	No. Appearing:	1
Hit Dice:	7	Save As:	Elf 7
Move:	Std: 90' (30') Fly: 240' (80')	Morale:	11
Attacks:	Claw / Claw / Bite	Treasure Type:	~ (H)
Damage:	1-6 / 1-6 / 2-24	Alignment:	Chaotic
Frequency:	Rare	Chance In Lair:	70%

• Chance of Talking: 40%
  
• Chance of Being Asleep: 30%
  
• Spells by Level (1/2/3): 3/1/~
  

Highly intelligent, Nightmare Dragons will intentionally con their prey (and see everything with the concept of terror as prey items!) Their voices are sibilant, their pitch varied, and they are fond of speaking to those able to speak with them - aggrandizing themselves within a shroud of mystery, seeking awe and fear from the onlooker.

Nightmare Dragons have the ability to Hide in Shadows as a Thief of level equal to half again the Dragon's hit dice - so, an HD 7 Nightmare Dragon would have a 75% chance - equivalent to a level 10 Thief. Similarly, Nightmare Dragons have the ability to Move Silently as a Thief of level equal to the Dragon's hit dice - so, an HD 7 Nightmare Dragon would have a 55% chance to Move Silently.

Using their tail, a Nightmare Dragon may make a whip attack in lieu of their two claw attacks. This attack deals 1-8 damage, but also benefits from a bonus to hit against armored targets, the bone spur serving as a puncturing implement:

• Against AC 6 or greater, the whip attack gains no bonus to hit.
• Against AC 3 to 5, the whip attack gains a +1 bonus to hit.
  
• Against AC 2 or less, the whip attack gains  a +3 bonus to hit.
  

Nightmare Dragons have perfect sight in darkness - including magical darkness - out to 120 feet.

Breath Weapon

• Template: Cone
• Range: 80' x 30'
  

The breath weapon of a Nightmare Dragon does not deal damage. 

Instead - it emits a pungent, choking gas of a dark color - ranging in color from gray-black to purple, varying from dragon to dragon - which has an extreme anesthetic or narcotic effect on living beings exposed to it. 

Any character hit by the breath weapon must immediately Save. Characters of fewer hit dice to the dragon breathing are affected as follows:

• On a success, the character is affected as though by the Cause Fear spell.
  
• On a failure, the character falls into a deep slumber - unable to be woken but by the most extreme stimuli (e.g., sudden submersion in ice water). This slumber will last a number of turns equal to 1d4 times the difference in hit dice: thus, a HD 7 Nightmare Dragon breathing on a level 5 character would put them to sleep for 2d4 turns.
  

Characters of hit dice equal to or greater than the dragon are subjected to a lesser effect as follows:

• On a success, the character is shaken, suffering a -1 penalty to hit and to Saves made against the dragon which breathed on the character to elicit the save.
  
• On a failure, the character is affected as though by the Cause Fear spell.
  

Characters of any hit dice comparison - if subjected to the same dragon's breath attack a second time within 24 hours - may re-roll their save if the first fails. Dragons who put characters to sleep tend not to kill them - but revel in taking some captive, leaving others; in moving the characters into an unfamiliar part of the dungeon; or other tricks designed not to kill, but instead to inspire a stress response.

Lair and Treasure

Nightmare Dragons make their lairs in rocky places - places where they can hide in darkness, but still prey after nightfall on surface dwelling sentient peoples. Alternatively, Nightmare Dragons have also been known to roost in the deep places of the earth - preying on dwellers under the mountain instead. They are prideful things, prone to hubris - collecting treasures and trinkets from defeated foes out of vanity as much as anything else - and take pleasure in arraying that horde in a way as to tempt, to lure, the unsuspecting.

Resistances and Immunities

Nightmare Dragons are immune to fear-based, sleep-like, and similar mind-influencing effects.

Nightmare Dragons resist raw magic - such as Magic Missile - taking half damage therefrom.

Spoiler Alert!

The Deeper Lore section contains some notes to help a GM (me) to run the Nightmare Dragon in a way consistent with the archetype they are supposed to fill and some of the inspirations behind their creation. If you play in (or want to play in!) a game GM'ed by me, beyond this point will ruin some of the mystery for you for both Nightmare Dragon and for most of the sentient races: having some impact in the game world that isn't immediately available outside of player character discoveries.

Deeper Lore

Fear feeds the Nightmare Dragon.

Spawned from the chaos and tumult in the spirit sea by the countless worries and terrors thrashing and resonating like ripples proceeding from a stone thrown into still waters, Nightmare Dragons are a plague on the world imposed by the Lords of Entropy so as, to their ends, to unintentionally destabilize the societies on which they prey by sowing fear, by reaping dread and consternation, in order to satisfy their natural, insatiable appetites.

The size of the dragon is proportional to the society on which it is able to prey - as such, the largest, most dangerous of them tend to be hidden in plain sight - or underneath plain sight, as it may be - in metropolitan areas. Some live in the labyrinthine sewers of ancient metropolises - causing discord and fright in the shadows: others live in crags surrounded by many small villages - sustaining themselves by insinuation, by turning the suspicions of the villages against one another.

Nightmare Dragons are not prone to wanton violence - understanding that death is the final terror: a delicacy, surely, but an end to the meal: the throat slit on the goose with the golden egg. They may injure their prey - they may resort to violence, may resort to more blunt appearances - in situations where the atmosphere of a place is insufficient to sustain them: however it is not typically a first choice for the reasoning provided. Younger dragons will be less aware of this fact - and older dragons far more clever from experience.

Public domain artwork retrieved from Pixabay and OldBookIllustrations.com and adapted for thematic use. Attributions in alt text.

10 More Hex Locations from the Caanish Archipelago

In the spirit of hexploration, and as a sequel to my previous post, 10 Hex Locations from the Caanish Archipelago, I took some time this week to revisit and document another 10 interesting, inspirational locations from my home setting - focusing on the rolling plains, where the nomads patrol migration patterns and the great herds roam free.

How did my players interact with (or react to!) them?

Immaterial! How will yours? Hexward-ho, readers!

1.	Justice Mound Rising from a sea of grass miles in every direction - a rectangular mound rises where the river curves, north-east to north-west: housing a temple of marble: guarded and maintained by the Mahlu - vicious men with the heads and hinds of lions - sworn to the service of the Lord of Justice. From the river to the east, a masonry road is laid, leading to the eastern gate; on which a golden crest depicts the dawn - visible from without the structure, facing west, a stairwell rises - carved of the same stone - into the heavens westward: culminating in a gate, open to the air, bearing another seal: a gold disc with the face of a bearded man - glimmering wings protruding from the left and right of the disc and a feathered tail flowing downward.
2.	Sand Kelp Forest The grass grows deeply here - a valley nestled into a nook in the hills to the south: approaching from the south, one might mistake it simply for a rise - but from the north, especially - it's a forest of sand-colored stems: as kelp rises from the sea bottom, so also does the grass here, dancing subtly along its length as invisible currents wash between the blades - the tallest of which range to over 20 feet in height. Sages say there is the hint of magic about it - and locals claim that, with the coming of the moon, you can hear the voice of a Grass Dragon whispering lullabies throughout the glade - but there's no way to predict or confirm such a song... is there?
3.	The Horse Graveyard Sacred to the Khiami, a native pastoral people to the Caanish plains, this site is situated in the northern part of a grassy island, where the grain gives way to scrub and brush. In it are a dozen dozens of stone tophets: sacrificial structures where horses were slain and burned, offered to Odakon - the Lord of Hoof and Waves. Centuries of history have mixed to the soil here - and with them, it is said, tarax spirits prowl in the twilight hours.
4.	Tortoise Valley Sunken a hundred yards into the earth, this hollow is accessible from a treacherous collapsed section to the south-east, forming a stair and ramp. Within is a section of table-shaped stones - worn smooth - almost primitive megaliths to mushrooms - varying in height from four to twelve feet and always a diameter double so much. The valley is named after the fauna - large tortoises with  shells prized for use in jewelry and utensils - but none have entered yet who have not wondered about the table stones under which the tortoises repine.
5.	Birthing Grounds of the Gud-Alim The Gud-Alim, cattle to the Autumn Lord: the mystic bison whose shaggy fur will stop blades, whose fetid breath can cause a man to wither, can be found in their hundreds here - in the Spring and Summer - having come to this place to calf. Taking shelter among the bracken, rearing young among the savanna trees, here they are born: and here they are vulnerable - if only for this first season.
6.	Spiderweb Pass Flanked by hills on either side, this defile - from a distance - seems soft and motionless, the lowland being smooth and dead compared to the waist-high grasses that grace the hills: however, upon closer experience, this seeming shortcut is no road - but a veritable carpet of spiderwebs. Spiders ranging from a fingernail to a hand to the size of a man prowl beneath and among the concealing, impeding web: predators, first, but unwitting guardians, second, to the treasures of the bold (or foolish?) merchants and travelers who sought to shave a day from their journey by taking a shortcut through the spiders.
7.	Shrine of the Lightning Ray By the seaside on a small island rising from the shallows within eyesight of the shore on a clear day stands a granite structure - within, a saltwater bath oriented to face south-east: a rivulet cut in the far face to allow a trickling current to wash out to the sea. The bath never runs dry - and it is said that, underground, there must be several places where years and cracks in the rock allow the sea to wash into the bath with the tide. Pilgrims are known to throw coins or other offerings into the pool - where they are swept away and around (or perhaps even ingested) by a shoal of electric rays who make their home in the bath.
8.	The City Forgotten A massive location - with outsized architecture and furnishing to match - the city occupies three distinct areas, each of which as large as 2 1/2 square miles: The Outskirts Outside the crumbling walls of the city, a township had once sprung up - perhaps to do business, as sprawl-towns do today, with the then thriving denizens of the city within. The buildings were made of mud brick - a curious mechanism of reeds and dirt to lend integrity to the structure - but are largely crumbling, their ilk not meant to stand against the ages. Within is said to be dust and broken, antiquated tools and implements - but there is evidence of defensive berms having been constructed as well... do they belong as well - or have they been constructed by new residents? Further - are they truly designed to keep invaders out... or might they have been placed to hem something in? The Palisade A city of medium size, construction has been made of sterner stuff than the Outskirts. Concrete is mixed with gravel to form solid, multi-story structures - crammed against one another to save space - standing against time and of size equivalent to any of the Caanish port towns of the region: each of which, however, standing half again as tall as that which a man might have constructed. There is evidence of feet moving - but no sound or sight of feet; there is evidence of food eaten, but no smell nor taste to be had - despite the comings and goings, there is curiously little sign of who has come or gone... The Palace The Palace - a fortified series of estates, massive homes of the elite and powerful set on three tiers, three overpasses with limited accessibility between each other: the Palace, itself accessible only from the Palisade across three grand bridges: of which, only one is still safe. To the south, the bridge has collapsed wholly - a victim of time; to the center - the tallest of the three bridges, elevated as though to provide an exclusive passage for those only interested in the upper levels, is missing a single span, almost as though it had been cut. But to the north, the dark stone still hangs over the a river, lazily separating the shadows of the low from the shadows of the high. An enterprising adventurer might find their way across through the sewers if they so dared.
9.	Scorpion Ridge Where the hills to the west fall into the flatland, coursing into the sea of grain, the ground rebels as though on a rocky shore: with stone tables, outcroppings, and plateaus posing as wave breakers against the encroachment of grass. These flats, these badlands, are infested with scorpions of all types - this place being the epicenter, the capitol of the kingdom of the Scorpion Men - arachnid centaurs quick on their claws and quick of wit, making their lairs between the crags.
10.	The Lost City of the Sand Giants The legends of the Khiami speak of a time in the past where men were giants - twice as tall, twice as wise, and twice as virtuous. However those times - as all times - had come to an end - with that lost race of giants since having gone extinct: but having left their possessions to weather beyond their bones. This was their capitol - this was the center of their civilization - its sprawling acreage sitting across a sea of sand at the base of a dead volcano, as dead as the hands that built the city. The buildings are said to be twice as grand as would be implied of a creature twice a man; the treasures are said to be twice as rich - and the secrets, who knows how much deeper?

 

Public domain art retrieved from OldBookIllustrations.com, ReusableArt.com, or the National Gallery of Art and adapted for thematic use. Attributions in alt text.

Fluff, Flavor, and Lore

Everyone has elements of conversation or certain opinions expressed which test their ability to suppress a telltale grimace: points of contention that - most times - are not actually contentious, but more simply a difference of understanding on a community-defined concept. Because everyone loves a good old declarative and opinionated "What Is X" article - here's one of mine: what the difference is between Fluff, Flavor, and Lore in your game and game setting.

Fluff

What is Fluff? Fluff is the cruft that inspires gamists to decry narrativists and world-builders as false gamers, referees intent not to ref a true game, but instead failed novelists attempting to force the players to live through the epic that publishers and readers alike simply weren't on the level to understand.

4,419 years before the current era, Aenarion - protecting Caledor while completing a ritual to disperse the chaos magic sustaining demonic incursions into Uthuan - flew to the Shrine of Khaine upon his dragon mount, Indraugnir, to return the Godslayer to the Black Altar, sacrificing himself and saving the kingdom of the Elves, but simultaneously setting the stage for the Age of Betrayal and civil strife regarding the succession of the Phoenix Kings. [1]

This is an example of Fluff.

Why is that? Is it bad writing? No - quite the opposite: this is a great story which draws on classic themes and archetypes - the hero and the fall; honor and hubris; sacrifice and betrayal. What makes it Fluff is that it will never come up in game. Does the fall of Aenarion change how many retainers the party is bringing along for their trek into the wilds? No. Sure, the presence of evil Elves in an area would - you would, in the presence of a hostile enemy, most assuredly hire more mercenaries to protect you, bring supplies to deal with the wiles of the enemy (in the case of evil Elves, perhaps magical defenses and countermeasures to concealment and surprise) - but that's not Lore; that's not Flavor: that's weighting on a wilderness encounter table entry. It doesn't matter what happened 4,419 years ago to cause those elves to be evil - only that they are evil presently, in the aforementioned circumstance.

Story like that - expository history - has a place in world-building: but unless your players are actively reading your Encyclopedia Yourworldica, doing a text-dump on them will take them out of the moment, detract from the game experience, and possibly derail the tone or atmosphere while the players take notes (or drift off), pretending to be back in school again at the lecture hall.

To put it more politely, this kind of writing does have a place in the industry - but that place is in a novel, in a short story, in a setting wiki where its purpose is better served: not at the table.

Flavor

What is Flavor? Flavor is - in the context of an RPG - a short, often pithy or evocative text or image the purpose of which is to color or inform otherwise textbook material in keeping with the theme or tone of the material in question. Flavor is best used - hence its name - as a spice: to keep the reader's palate interested while discussing mechanics or concepts: which keeps the reader engrossed by providing structural and syntactic variation, helps the material to stick by creating a mnemonic mechanism, and maintains the atmosphere being created through its imagery.

What is the difference between Flavor and Fluff? Fluff adds no value other than color to the world. Flavor has meaning. Flavor serves no purpose other than to showcase how deeply the author has considered their setting. Flavor informs the game. (The same might be said of actual creative writing: that is, wherein Flavor would inform the narrative or help shape the reader's perspective in order to understand the narrative - but such is immaterial to the current discussion and gaming context.)

When looking for an example of Flavor, one needs look no further than Monster descriptions. Consider the following from the 1981 Expert set regarding Blink Dogs:

Blink dogs look like Australian wild dogs. They are highly intelligent, travel in packs, and use a limited teleportation ability: they can "blink out" of one spot and immediately appear ("blink in") at another. When attacking, they "blink" close to an enemy, attack, and then reappear 10 to 40 feet away. On any round in which they have the initiative, they can attack without risking a counterattack by the defender, by "blinking" away. Their instincts prevent blink dogs from "blinking" into solid objects. If seriously threatened, an entire pack will "blink" out and not reappear. Blink dogs always attack displacer beasts, their natural enemies. [2]

What makes this Flavor and not Fluff - or just rules? Admittedly, in the text, there are rules - the description section being used to clarify how, mechanically, the creature works. However, looking closer reveals several key Flavor qualities:

1. It is short. The text is short enough that the reader - presumably the referee - can parse it quickly, even potentially parsing it at the table, encountering the creature in an unprepared wandering monster encounter. This separates it from Lore, which would normally be longer form or longer in explanation, as detailed below.
2. It colors the subject. A real-world analogy is created to describe the creature - providing a basis for the appearance and behavior of the monster. This enables the players to picture the creature - or allows the referee to draw on that mental picture for descriptions of the creature to the players - and helps to create the visualization.
   
3. It informs the game. The paragraph discusses the way that the creature engages with the players and engages with the world. The paragraph provides no information that will not come up at the table: including tactics, appearance, and even a relationship with another creature in the book.
4. It creates (or reinforces) a mnemonic. The "blink" monster uses its "blink" ability! While there are spells that imitate the same effect the Blink Dog makes use of as its primary combat and escape mechanism, the text does not reference a spell: instead, it describes the ability and provides a quick mechanism that will help the reader (and the players) to remember how the creature works when working with one in play.
   

This under consideration, the description of a Blink Dog - or most monsters, truthfully, though Blink Dog is under scrutiny here - represents a good example of Flavor and how it can be applied to enhance the game, both in reading and in playing.

Lore

What is Lore? Lore is - in the context of an RPG - longer text, but not necessarily long form, the purpose of which is to elucidate larger world-building, to expose the players to the deeper elements of the milieu, to the end of informing player decision making. Lore is best injected into the campaign as needed - that is, composed in part or wholesale beforehand, but presented to the game in paragraph sized chunks or - even better - in consistent, iterative but not oppressive game events - such that the players understand it, consider it, and retain it, building their ability to understand and interact with the wider world.

In a recent conversation with an internet friend, said friend describing to me his return to in-person gaming, mentioned to me that his acting party was a mixed group: not in terms of characters or character races, but in terms of players - some of the players were veterans of his campaigns past; others were not. Delving into the dungeon, several rooms in, the party came across a skeleton bearing a bejeweled dagger - as is wont of players, the neophyte reached to retrieve it, but in that moment, the sourdough grasped his hand - be wary of items held in the possession of the dead - they often come with curses!

Did the tyro take it, and was it after all cursed? 

Oh absolutely - to both. 

But this is an absolutely brilliant example of lore and to the best way to introduce and ingrain that lore into a campaign world. Part of his milieu is that the dead carry curses with them - and robbing the dead is akin to signing on the dotted line to grasp that monkey's paw: he did not tell the players this, they simply experienced it, and in subsequent games, when the theme was reinforced, character by character and instance by instance, they developed a tribal knowledge among the players that to steal from the dead is an affront to those departed ancestors: something that must be done only with care and in a state of absolute necessity. The lore existed in the background before they experienced it - it remained in the background while they experienced it - and it would remain whether they wrote it down and passed it to future generations of players, regardless. 

That's how you do lore. In small, consistent chunks; hinting at the bigger picture - empowering the players to either take it to heart or not: and benefit (or suffer) accordingly.

Should This Affect My Writing?

The terminology? Probably not. The concepts? I think so - yes.

Consider when presenting information - either in a game, in a game product, in fiction, or in conversation - that the purpose of language is to communicate ideas. If the words being used to communicate the idea don't further understanding of the idea, if the text being written fail to form and frame the idea in the mind's eye of the reader, then the words are likely the wrong words to be using.

At the same time, while it is true that it's not always about the destination - but about the journey by which we reach it - in the context of a game session or game campaign, the journey is the destination: the journey is not what happens along the way, the journey is the collective experience of cataloging what happens: the emergence of the emergent story. The same can be said of most fiction - when you watch a movie, you don't fast forward to the end to see how it wraps up: you experience the full length as it unravels - but that's another rambling.

And Them's My Two Coppers.

Delve on, readers!

 

Citations and Fair Use Disclaimer

Public domain artwork retrieved from OldBookIllustrations.com and cropped for use. Attributions in alt text.

Screen captures of term definitions retrieved from the Merriam Webster online dictionary, copyright 2021 Merriam-Webster, Incorporated; a subsidiary of Encyclopædia Britannica, Incorporated; with adaptation to some captures, themselves, to highlight the relevant definition. Definitions included for reference and elucidatory purpose.

[1] Aenarion, Caledor, Khaine, and et cetera are intellectual property of Games Workshop and the respective authors of Black Library titles and codices from which the lore is derived and is included in this article for illustrative, educational purposes. Aforementioned lore retrieved and referenced from Warhammer Fantasy Fandom, provided under Creative Commons: Share Alike. Section cited is paraphrased - it is not a direct, block quote - for the interest of margin.

[2] Bink Dog descriptive text quoted from Dungeons & Dragons Expert Rulebook:

Cook, D., & Marsh, S. (1980). Dungeons & Dragons: Fantasy Adventure Game - Expert Rulebook (1st Edition). TSR Hobbies.

Blink Dog, Dungeons & Dragons, D&D, and et cetera are intellectual property of Wizards of the Coast L.L.C., a subsidiary of Hasbro, Incorporated, and are governed by the Wizards of the Coast Open Game License, Version 1.0a.

The Plague Doctor (Class)

In a conversation recently with an anonymous old school enthusiast, the subject was broached of a Plague Doctor class and how that enthusiast should construct one for the Lamentations of the Flame Princess game they were running. That conversation got me inspired, so I did some reading about what Plague Doctors were, how Medieval medicine operated, and put this together. Hopefully I didn't do a disservice to our conversation, fellow enthusiast!

But what were the Plague Doctors? Plague Doctors were amateur healers - largely untrained and recruited under duress - given the most basic of instructions to help alleviate the suffering of an outbreak of widespread contagion, then left to proceed by experience. As such, the Plague Doctor starts out weak, frequently hindering their allies rather than helping them despite their efforts, but advances rapidly, becoming an asset in down-time

This class serves as a pseudo replacement of the Cleric and is thematically faithful to a Lamentations campaign setting - however, I, not having played Lamentations to any great degree (but I've watched it in actual plays, guise! believe me!) admittedly statted this class appropriately to B/X or OSE. At a high level, though, by removing the THAC0, it should fit nicely into your home Lamentations game.

Let me know how (if?) it works!

					Saves
Level	Title	XP	Hit Dice	THAC0*	Death or Poison	Wands	Paralysis	Dragon's Breath	Spells
1	Mountebank	0	1d8	20	14	14	16	18	16
2	Laech	1,400	2d8	-	11	12	13	16	14
3	Apothecary	2,800	3d8	-	-	-	-	-	-
4	Physicker	5,600	4d8	19	-	-	-	-	-
5	Clinician	11,200	5d8	-	-	-	-	-	-
6	Aidman	22,400	6d8	-	8	10	10	14	12
7	Chymist	44,800	7d8	17	-	-	-	-	-
8	Practitioner	89,600	8d8	-	-	-	-	-	-
9	Alienist	178,200	9d8	-	-	-	-	-	-
10	Physician	350,000	9d8+1*	14	5	8	7	11	8
11	Hospitaler	500,000	9d8+2*	-	-	-	-	-	-
12	Chirugeon	650,000	9d8+3*	-	-	-	-	-	-
13	Doctor	800,000	9d8+4*	12	-	-	-	-	-
14	Plague Doctor	950,000	9d8+5*	-	2	6	4	8	6
* Constitution adjustments no longer apply.

Weapons and Armor Plague Doctors may use edged weapons or puncturing weapons and may wear leather armor, but may not use shields.

Blood Letting Starting at 1st level, a Plague Doctor may engage in blood-letting - or the release of blood via razors in effort to balance the humors of the patient. The patient of the blood-letting takes 1d8 damage, but may thereafter roll a Save vs Death: succeeding which, the Plague Doctor may remove a disease from them, as the effect of a Remove Disease spell.

At level 3, the damage is reduced to 1d6. In addition, upon a successful patient Save, the Plague Doctor may remove a poison from them - as the effects of Neutralize Poison. A patient having died from poison may survive if treated in this manner within a number of rounds of either originally being affected (or having the effect come into play) equal to the Plague Doctor's level.

At level 7, the damage is reduced further to 1d4 and the patient gains a +1 bonus to the resultant Save.

At level 11, the damage is reduced further to 1d3 and the patient gains a +2 bonus to the resultant Save.

Blood Letting may be repeated - however the patient must recover from the damage inflicted entirely (so, an attempt dealing 4 points of damage that failed may not be repeated until the patient heals for 4: recovering those lost points).

Lance the Sores! A party under the care of a Plague Doctor may, when resting to retain hit points, roll their own hit die instead of 1d3 to regain hit points on a full day's rest. Where a character would be eligible to heal only 1 hit point, they are allowed to roll 1d3. A Plague Doctor can treat a number of patients equal to 4 plus their Intelligence modifier.

At 6th level, the patient may roll twice, recovering the greater of the two results, and the number of patients that can be treated increases by 2.

At 12th level, the patient recovers the maximum value of the appropriate roll each day and the number of patients that can be treated increases by a further 2.

Pocket Full of Posies Plague Doctors carry with them an assortment of flowers and herbs: for, as we know, the sweet smells can purify diseased air, drowning out ill vapors. By burning this incense, or by mixing these herbs, the Plague Doctor can - based on their level - imitate the effect of various spells as follows:

Level	Effect
2	Detect Poison
	Detect Disease
	Cure Light Wounds
5	Protection from Evil
	Purify Food and Drink
	Bless
9	Striking
	Cure Serious Wounds
	Protection from Evil, 10 ft. Radius

Note, one incense or herb may pollute the other - mixing into a toxic air, in and of itself - a Plague Doctor may only carry enough material to account for a limited number of uses per adventure: this number being likewise based on the Plague Doctor's level.

Level	Doses
1	2
5	4
9	6
13	8

The Plague Doctor may mix any combination of effects so long as the number of doses (read, uses) per adventure does not exceed the maximum.

Revivify Frequently, a death mask is frequently that - simply the appearance of death prior to the spirit moving on. At 8th level, a Plague Doctor may attempt to Revivify the recently deceased - using surgery, herbs, and other implements. The attempt takes 4 hours, after which the target may Save vs Death at a -2 penalty, coming back at 1 hit point on success; however, if the target fails this save by either rolling a natural 1 or missing their target number by 10 or greater, so also the Plague Doctor must Save vs Death or themselves be affected by the malaise of the grave. A Plague Doctor so affected will suffer for 1d6 days, unable to use class abilities or adventure, at the end of which - unless treated - they will, themselves die.

A target for revivification may not have been deceased longer than a number of days equal to half the Plague Doctor's level. A revivify attempt may only be used once - if it fails on that first attempt, the spirit has moved on.

Trepanation Starting at 3th level, a Plague Doctor may engage in Trepanation - or the boring of a hole in the skull to release pressure or evil spirits from the brain. The patient of the Trepanation takes 1d8 damage, but thereafter rolls a Save vs Spells. The Plague Doctor can use this ability to inflict a positive or negative effect, with the positive effect requiring the save to succeed, the negative one requiring the save to fail. 

At level 8, the damage is reduced to 1d6 and the patient gains a +1 bonus to the resultant Save.  

At level 12, the damage is reduced further to 1d4 and the patient gains a +2 bonus to the resultant Save.

These effects imitate the effects of spells and are defined as follows, depending on the level of the Plague Doctor, and require the Plague Doctor - obviously - to be able to perform the operation in order to take effect:

Requisite Level	Positive	Negative
3	Remove Fear	Inspire Fear
4	Know Alignment	Dispel Evil (Single Monster)
8	Dispel Evil (Curse)
12	Remove Quest	Quest

As with Blood Letting - Trepanation can be repeated - but the patient must have healed entirely from the damage prior to a second attempt.

 

Public domain art retrieved from the Public Domain Review, OldBookIllustrations.com, and the National Gallery of Art and adapted for use. Attribution in alt text.