A High Fantasy

 Wrote this adventure for a very successful RBSDnD d6e game (which changed how combat and a couple of classes worked a tad); what you see is a messy expansion of my personal notes with the fucked-up horror dials set above where they were for my middle schoolers. It’s not my most polished adventure notation, but I think it serviceable enough to communicate the most important parts. Enjoy A High Fantasy!

THE ADVENTURE

One cycle ago, on the last waxing gibbous, Mother Hubbard divorced Queen Mab, forfeiting her position as Queen of the Seelie Court. Now, the Seelie Throne lies vacant, and Mab’s heartbreak manifests as the Blight, a plague that blackens vegetation and twists creatures towards their darkest vices. The Blight has just surrounded the hamlet Happily Ever After, and Mother Hubbard fears that if it consumes the Grandfather Tree, as it is set to do the next moonrise after the coming full moon, it will darken the forest forever. As long as the heartbroken Queen Mab remains in the Unseelie Throne, the Blight will spread…

DRAMATIS PERSONAE

MOTHER HUBBARD, ex-Queen of the Seelie Court. From her boot at the edge of Happily Ever After, she intends to employ a team of adventurers (players) to create an amnesia potion, correctly assuming that Queen Mab can’t spread the Blight if she doesn’t remember the hurt. To make it, she needs a golden egg (found in the henhouse next to Camelot), an eye of newt (found in Hubbard’s Wunderkabinet), and Queen Mab’s heart (found in her chest; the wedding ring Hubbard makes is an acceptable substitute, should it be pointed out to her).

WHISKERSHINS, Hubbard’s clueless, plucky cat familiar.

QUEEN MAB, Queen of the Unseelie Court. Her broken heart is the Blight. She’s locked herself in Bleak Ending, grieving a love that burned for centuries, and now burns her alive.

ISOLDE, Mab’s dour raven familiar, serving as the Queen’s eyes across the forest.

BARON KLOPP, terminally ill ruler of the giants. He intends to make a play at the Seelie throne once Mother Goose heals him, not yet realizing that what he has can’t be cured, even by the best. His cloud palace, Camelot, is parked above the highest branches of the Grandfather Tree.

MOTHER GOOSE, sister of Queen Mab. A remarkable doctress and amateur hedge wizard. Also a bird. She has been trying and failing to find a cure for Baron Klopp since before the Blight started. She never liked Mother Hubbard, and will resist giving up the golden egg if she catches wind of Hubbard’s “latest hare-brained scheme. Honk.”

BIG BAD, the Blighted guardian of Hubbard’s Wunderkabinet. Normally a more erudite psychopath, his irregular patch of ash-grey fur and blood-red eyes betray his unwilling descent into mere bestial violence.

LOCATIONS

HAPPILY EVER AFTER, the only human village in the High Forest. The Blight’s surrounding the city is what incited Mother Hubbard, who lives in the giant shoe at the end of the lane, into action.

THE GRANDFATHER TREE, a mammoth oak nestled behind the mists of the Lost Peaks. Looms higher than any tower man could build, with a trunk that might take an hour to circle. Hidden in its heart sits the empty Seelie throne. At its peak is docked Camelot, the cloud palace of Baron Klopp. He’s doubled up velvet-clad outside of the henhouse, blocking the door to Mother Goose’s makeshift workshop inside. Next to her medical equipment are two golden eggs.

HUBBARD’S WUNDERKABINET, a dry storage for alchemical reagents. Guarded by the Blighted Big Bad. Inside are shelves and shelves of ingredients, among them the Eye of Newt. Other possible additions to the inside of the cabinet are Blight-touched vignettes or one of Phlox’s Adventure Components.

BLEAK ENDING, the epicenter of the Blight. Growing out of a glass ziggurat is a giant black rose dripping with blood-red honey, visible from as far as the Grandfather Tree. Inside the ziggurat, Queen Mab sits mournfully on the Unseelie throne. 

(An aside: you may notice that the High Forest was originally a Forgotten Realms construct. That’s because the camp I worked at has an ongoing skit set in Neverwinter, so I thought it would be cool to have this game also take place there in case any camper were to go on and play in the Realms on down the line. “Woah, Neverwinter, like Kian and Clay versus the Owlbear! And the High Forest! I remember climbing the Grandfather Tree with an arrow tied to the Magician’s Rope…” I didn’t use any FR lore to make this adventure, though; just geography and place names.)

BLIGHT-TOUCHED VIGNETTES (from order of least to most fucked)

1 Two tall trees bully a sapling out of sunlight; the pixie who animated the trio looks on sadistically

2 The dish and the spoon hiding from the vengeful, spurned fork

3 Little Red Riding Hood, clad in namesake bloody pelts, hunting another wolf to skin alive

4 Hansel and Gretel devouring a gingerbread house as, inside, a witch, burning alive, starts an oven fire

5 Pinocchio, interrupted as he’s about to cut off the nose that’s making him so insecure

6 Two of King Wenceslas’s shiniest men trying to convince Humpty Dumpty not to jump

ENCHANTED TOTEMS

1 BAND OF BEAST SPEECH, a ring decorated with dancing creatures that translates animal speech.

2 PATIENT ACORN, which explodes into an adult oak once planted.

3 SPYGLASS OF DESIRE, a kaleidoscope that shows what someone wants most.

4 MAGICIAN’S ROPE, sturdy silk scarves that can be indefinitely procured from one’s wrist.

5 ROSE KNIGHT BLADE, a bastard sword that grows a thicket of roses when stabbed in the ground.

6 POTION OF TRUE LOVE, that tastes of summer honey and just might work, in the right light.

I promise my notebook looks cooler and less smear-y in person. Thanks for reading, and happy gaming.

d6-only RBSDnD

 Forgot my d20 at home these past couple of weeks at camp. Wrote up this d6-only variation on RBSDnD instead. Very similar to past iterations, just more accessible for those without d20 handy. Thanks for reading, and happy gaming.

RBSDnD 2e, or, OSE for summer campers

    In preparation of running more DnD for summer campers in coming weeks, I've looked back on RBSDnD and updated it with the dividends of last summer's playtesting. Here's what I've changed:

• I've reduced the number of classes from 7 to the core 4. There are many reasons for this, but the two main ones are that the high specificity of the previous classes created a sense of character concept claustrophobia, and that explaining the difference between fewer classes allows for an easier, more informed choice upon character creation. (The downside is that we lose the clarity of the design process, making "make your own class" a more hollow invitation.)
• I removed the attack roll, as the two-step attack process was slow to explain and enact, despite making possible granular effects like weapon FUMBLES. I also changed all HIT DICE to d6, bringing the number of dice required to play RBSDnD R.A.W. down to just the common d6 and the d20, which I couldn't conscionably remove from the game and still call it DnD.
• Beyond those major structural changes, I cleaned up some verbiage and cut some cruft, like the shield, my nebulous dungeon-stacking guidance, and a list of potential rewards in place of rules for leveling up. This new version is more concise and internally consistent to accommodate the expanded classes.

    Here's a link to the new version. The old version will still be available here, under the name 2022e, but I'll update the link on the right to reflect the edition change. As I test it over the coming weeks, I anticipate patching some leaks, so watch this space.

Thanks for reading, and happy gaming.

d20 shitty little guys

 

THE UNDERWORLD

1 A cult comprised of three members, each squabbling over their new scripture

2 Highwaymen arguing over the roles they’re playing in this con

3 An amateur Witchfinder’s Brigade just waiting for someone to beat the tar out of

4 An herbalist who just can’t find the sprout they’re looking for

5 A doctor overseeing a slapdash leech removal that isn’t going so hot

6 A half-hearted exorcism in progress

7 A vagrant magician whose only trick is to disappear coins without returning them

8 Some teenagers failing to be nonchalant about asking where they can find the Undermarket

9 Conquest re-enactors in need of some better weapons than this shitty wood and foam

10 A pith-helmeted amateur explorer asking directions to the nearest Untamed Wilderness or Lawless Frontier

THE KNOWN WORLD

11 A poser jongleur, with no clue what they’re doing, trying to teach someone how to juggle

12 An overworked crier who’s awful at getting people to take their pamphlets

13 A “renowned alchemist” who doesn’t know how the placebo effect works and thinks they’re just that good

14 A gaggle of enthusiasts bickering over who has the best hat

15 A stodgy old diet-racist with food poisoning from ethnic food

16 Amateur stargazers wondering why their telescope isn’t working

17 Children getting in a fight over a game of kick-around-a-raccoon-carcass

19 Out-of-tune buskers playing a parody of a folk song about having sex with a goat

19 A kid looking for help they desperately need in a game of hide and seek

20 A team of engineers who are just a few parts shy of getting this spaceship off the ground

Here are the principles, not rules, that guided me.

• These NPCs should be doing something upon approach, or better yet, invite approach.
• They should all be Extremely On Their Bullshit.
• They should all be incompetent enough to be interesting.
• They should abide by and reinforce the ever-developing Pb anticanon.

Thanks for reading, and happy gaming.

R.A.F.

That is, Random Aerodyne Features. Written for the airships of Pb, but could likely work for any boat-like vessel.

1. Shrouds of braided human hair
2. It’s always freezing on board
3. Shag carpeting
4. Hands and mouths sticking haphazardly out of the walls and floor
5. A skeleton lashed to the steering wheel
6. Animal cages built into the cargo hold
7. Stylized animal wings painted on the hull demarcating port and starboard
8. Shrouds of coin-chains
9. A phonograph horn running up the mizzen stuck blaring Imperial marches
10. A magic sword being used as a flying jib boom
11. Balloon sewn from Churlian textile
12. Shrouds wrought of ashtadhatu chain
13. A mummified snake wrapped around the foremast
14. A figurehead of a wild-eyed warlock clinging to the bowsprit
15. A quaint fireplace in the cargo hold
16. An inverted bell for a crow’s nest
17. An executioner’s chair lashed to the base of the lightning rod
18. Sugar crystals growing on the hull
19. A mural of eye-clusters painted on the hull; the pupils are lightning cannon gunports
20. A coffin full of keys being used as an anchor

What, you want more? Fine. Here. Knock yourself out.

1. Stocked horizontal bookshelves for a deck
2. The rusted head of an Old World automaton being used as an anchor
3. Wheels, just in case
4. The cupped hands of a titanic statue for a crow’s nest
5. Balloon shaped as a skull serving as a vanitas
6. Thuribles hang from the masts
7. A figurehead carved of hardlight crystal
8. Everything is monocolor
9. Tentacle infestation
10. Multicolored candles melted onto the length of the railings
11. An aquarium set into the middle of the deck
12. An overgrown thicket of luminescent toadstools growing in the cargo hold
13. A nervous system painted into the deck
14. The whole ship is built in the shape of an ankh
15. Cobwebs so thick you can’t see the floor
16. A burnt-out lightning cannon being used as an anchor
17. Balloon inhabited by a firefly colony
18. An oversized mortar for a crow’s nest
19. The whole ship was carved out of one tree
20. A quote from the Siliconium carved into the keel

Thanks for reading, and happy gaming.

Towards the ingredients of a lasting game

Here are ingredients that I believe will generally produce a years-long campaign:

• A group of friends, friends who would want to spend time with each other with or without DnD. Between 4 and 9 total, DM included; too many and the spotlight-splitting diminishes engagement, too few and the interpersonal dynamics aren't robust enough to support extended play. Always err on the side of less players, and on the side of better players over better friends.
• A reliable schedule that works for the players consistently and the DM constantly. Avoid playing with less than 3/4 of the players, or scheduling on a session-by-session basis, at all costs.
• A sufficiently compelling campaign that, on average, playing it is a better experience then sitting and chatting with the same snacks, and that at its best, playing it is a better experience than any board or video game.
• Start with as gripping a session as you can run, then spend several sessions doing the simplest play possible, folding out from there as slowly as can be organic and satisfying. Leading with your best, highest-concept material will make sure it gets to the table, but it also makes it easy to walk away with satisfaction after having experienced it.
• Ensure the party, in every moment, has some goal, ideally one that will motivate them further into the unknown. Prioritize clear trajectory, even over realism. A secret uncovered too fast is a point of pride, a mystery that can't be solved is worse than a waste of time.

The dividends of these bullets will be, I think, a game that will survive. Doubtless you've had a long-running campaign that hasn't met these criteria, or you have some insight into this alchemy I don't. I'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments.

Thanks for reading, and happy gaming.

"Sundering" Planescape

I really wish I liked Planescape, but I don’t. Let’s see if I can fix it.

WHAT DO I LIKE ABOUT PLANESCAPE?

• IT’S ECLECTIC. The primary draw of Planescape is the near-surreal variety of experiences it can offer, especially those well outside of the standard purview of dungeon fantasy. There is nothing outside of Planescape’s purview, and a campaign on the cosmic scale promises an endless variety of novel experiences.
• IT’S PHILOSOPHICAL. It’s difficult to adventure in Planescape without making choices about what you believe and why. A party, over the course of a campaign, is implicitly challenged to carve out an ethical niche in the cosmos, which is delightfully fertile ground from which the more cerebral possibilities of roleplay can sprout.
• IT’S ACCESSIBLE. Through a Planescape campaign, interplanar play that’s typically locked behind a high level becomes accessible to any party. Like a game that starts with domain play (our beloved), it takes a pleasure that by default arises out of a long-running DnD campaign and presents it to anyone who wants to enjoy it.

WHAT’S NOT GREAT ABOUT PLANESCAPE?

• IT’S SPRAWLING. With an endless and easily-accessed multiverse, it’s hard to delineate the known world from the unknown world, and the early game from the late. This also makes it difficult to make small stakes still feel meaningful in the shadow of the leviathan of infinitude.
• IT’S REDUNDANT. Especially because of the constraints of the ninefold alignment chart, the obligation to arbitrarily fill out existing matrices creates natural redundancies in the worldbuilding. What’s the difference between Arborea and the Beastlands, the Doomguard and the Bleak Cabal?
• IT’S HYPEREXOTIC. The sheer number of genuinely original features of Planescape’s world makes explaining it to a neophyte an act of endless onboarding. Barring individual research on the setting, there’s next to no grounding of common understanding from which a table can work together to make sense of each other and the world they’re creating.

Now, I’m certain that a smarter, more creative DM could circumvent these issues without having to restructure the Planescape canon. But this is my take on the matter: a Planescape whose central conceits can be clearly communicated in three bullets, a Planescape with the capacity to  fruitfully constrain a party’s interplanar antics, a Planescape not yet oversaturated by the need to fill every niche.

In 1917, the US joined the Great War, the last mother crumples a salt-stained telegraph delivered by a smartly-dressed hero, the last priest’s rosary falters in his trembling hands, the last soldier’s eyes stop twinkling as he white-knuckle grips his childhood best friend rotting alive in a backwater trench, and the corpse of God falls out of heaven and crashes headsfirst into the Western Front. That was a decade ago.

Everyone who could make the pilgrimage without being blown to bits by their neighbors built a metropolis in God’s ribcage, and named it Sigil. Sigil is the only city that matters; the rest of the world, far as anyone knows, is still an endless morass of smoking mortar shells and mud-caked, mist-drenched wasteland. The Temperance League instituted a prohibition a couple years back, which you obey if you’re poor and smart.

God bled all over the cosmos. This vanishingly rare and unspeakably valuable ICHOR serves as fuel for interplanar zeppelins called spelljammers. Without ICHOR, you have to navigate the cosmos long way round, through natural gates and wounds between dimensions. Sigil stripped God’s flesh from His bones long ago, milking it for the ICHOR necessary to establish a spelljammer flotilla and a cluster of pancosmic colonies called Gate-Towns, so all the remaining ICHOR is sequestered in the least penetrable crannies of the multiverse.

Next up: a primer on the seven outer planes. Thanks for reading, and happy gaming.