"Serious" fumbles I can enjoy

As I’ve said before, I usually don’t like fumbles or critical failures in combat, at least in more "serious" campaigns; they make fighters look foolish.

Worse, the higher level a fighter gets, the more attacks they make; if every natural 1 is a fumble, fighters end up failing far too often. When you’re rolling 4 or 5 attacks per round, one of them is almost guaranteed to be a ridiculous blunder. Critical failures do happen in real life, but not nearly as often as a single die face suggests.

The idea of a saving throw to confirm whether the fumble actually happens is a decent (mathematical) fix; but with multiple attacks and multiple saves you end up with lots of rolls that don’t lead anywhere.

Instead of focusing on the character, we could focus on the weapon or the environment. Keep fumbles, but only in situations that are genuinely risky; and the effects shouldn’t make the character look like an idiot, but highlight the limitations of the weapon or the setting instead.

For example, a longsword needs space to be effective. In a cramped tunnel it still works (you can use half-swording, etc.), but it’s suboptimal; that could cause the fumble. You could even build a table of things that might go wrong on a natural 1, but only if it makes sense in context. If there’s no additional danger, then nothing funny happens.

Another option is to give the enemy an opportunity to strike with an advantage; maybe you overextend, make a reckless swing, and miss, opening yourself up to a counterattack. That way the focus isn’t on your “stupid mistake,” but on the danger you’ve exposed yourself to.

Let's try to combine both ideas. Here is how an actual rule I might use would look like:

---

When you roll a natural 1 on an attack, it is always an automatic miss. In addition, it can cause serious consequences if you’re in a risky situation:

• Close allies: If an ally is too close to your target (e.g., shooting into melee or attacking a grappled foe), roll again to see if you hit your ally.

• Tight spaces: If the area is too cramped for your weapon, you strike a wall and take a –4 penalty on your next attack with that weapon.

• Flails and chains: If you’re using a flail, roll again to see if you hit yourself (half damage).

• Fragile weapons: If you’re using a low-quality weapon or one unsuited to the target (e.g., a common blade against a stone creature), your weapon may break or lose its edge (–1 damage until repaired).

• Dangerous stunts: If you’re attempting a dangerous stunt, such as jumping form a higher point etc., you failed catastrophically. Fall prone, take damage, save for half.

• In all cases: You lose your footing, expose yourself, and take –2 AC until the start of your next turn, unless you spend an attack to regain balance.

---

By the way, this is the best rule I have for "shooting into melee". Being  a good archer improves your chance to hit an ally close to targe (an incompetent archer is more likely to miss both entirely), and this also takes into account your ally's armor.

It is time to ditch the "good GM"

The myth of the "good GM is required to play" is an old tale in our hobby. I thought the myth had been laid to rest, but it is often raised from the dead with talks of "elite GMs" that know all the rules by heart, or "great GMs" that are skilled voice actors or that have amazing improv skills.

It is time to ditch this idea. In fact, it’s long overdue.

The "good DM" was often used as an excuse for “difficult” games: “this confusing game is great, it just requires a good GM to function.” Or, more neutrally, as a warning: “this game is good BUT it requires a good GM to run.” For me, it should be used as outright criticism: “this game is not easy to use, and it requires a GM that is above average to make it work.”

There is no objective way to measure or evaluate the quality of GMs, and no serious research exists AFAICT. People who usually talk about “good GMs” are often just talking about themselves in a display of arrogance and bravado.

Until we have objective evaluation, we can imagine that GMs divide into good, bad, and average, with the majority (around 68%) sitting in the middle of a normal curve. If you’ve read the DMG or know basic statistics, you understand this.

Imagine rolling 3d6 for your GM skill as a "prime requisite": requiring a result above “average,” say 13–14, would exclude most people unnecessarily from the “class” of GM.

A good RPG should be good for most players and GMs, except when you’re deliberately making niche content.

In short: most GMs are mid, great GMs are rare, and that’s fine. A game that is only viable or fun for the highly skilled is doomed to fail; even chess, poker, or football can be fun for beginners.

Great creativity, memory, improv skills, mastery of 200 pages of rules, and vast literary knowledge are wonderful things to have, but they shouldn’t be required to run a good game.

In fact, we all remember the time (often as kids or teens) when we barely understood the rules, had never read any RPG theory, and still managed to have memorable adventures. RPGs should be fun for the averages and even below-average, not only the self-professed “elites.”

In addition, RPGs should help me run a game, not force me to fight the system in order to make it work.

That’s why I try to create good tables and tools, so you (or, frankly, I) don’t need to be an awesome GM to make something great with them. I don’t want to put all the burden of creation on your shoulders if you’re using my games; in fact, I want to save you as much work as I can.

[Here is one example. My goal with the setting is not to require you to read Edgar Rice Burroughs, Clark Ashton Smith, Lovecraft, or Roadside Picnic in order to enjoy it, even if I would recommend you do. The idea is that you can get the same feel I enjoy simply by rolling the tables as written, without needing to construct it all yourself].

One of the happiest feelings I have after creating random tables is rolling, combining and realizing the combinations instantly generate cool ideas I hadn't considered. In other words, not because I thought of something cool, but because I found something I hadn’t thought.

Likewise, when I’m running (or writing) a module, I want things to be simple and clearly spelled out. I don’t want to be unexpectedly forced to train my creativity or improv skills. My focus should be on running the game and responding to the players’ choices—not wrestling with the text.

In conclusion: 

By all means, read all the rules, memorize (or even tinker with) the most important ones; dive into Appendix N books if you want (you know I do); learn how statistics work; try improv; make voices; crack jokes; write your own adventures, and tweak or complete existing ones. 

These are all useful, fun skills, and they will make you a better GM and a better player. But they are absolutely not required to play RPGs.

Enclaves (Prismatic Planet)

Most of the planet's inhabitants live in small enclaves: hamlets, villages, and isolated settlements, separated from one another by vast stretches of hostile terrain. Enclaves are often distrustful and ignorant of one another, and afraid of powerful factions and cities. Travelers are usually treated with suspicion, but not outright hostility, since they are often useful for information and trade. Hospitality might be given in exchange for gifts or services. People in need are equally likely to be robbed and slain as to be helped.

Enclaves are built around reliable sources of water and food. In areas where none can be found, people organize in nomadic groups. The population of smaller enclaves is usually of a single color, but towns and cities are somewhat mixed. 

You can create your own enclaves randomly or otherwise, or use the ones described at the end of the chapter. When creating your own, you do not need to describe every aspect of it. Instead, just choose one single distinction to be more noticeable and later flesh things out as needed.

Distinction

1. Appearance

2. Customs

3. Problems

4. Leadership

5. Prejudice (likes)

6. Prejudice (hates)

7. Style

8. Buildings

9. History

10. Roll twice

Noah Bradley

Size

Most settlements are home to have fewer than a thousand inhabitants. The next chapter introduces several city-states, which may be all your campaign needs, at least to begin with. When the PCs approach an enclave, the GM may choose to ignore rolls of 12 or even 11, since the largest enclaves can often be seen, recognized, and sometimes even heard or smelled from a distance. At the very least, nearby enclaves will have heard about this place, and probably will treat it with respect, caution or fear.

 

2d6 | Community | Population | Description

2–3 | Band | 10–40 (d4×10) | A handful of people, maybe a single family. Commerce is unlikely.

4–5 | Clan | 41–150 (d6×20+20) | Clear leadership, conflicting interests.

6–8 | Settlement | 151–400 (d6×50+100) | Permanent walls, clear division of labor.

9–10 | Village | 401–900 (d6×100+300) | Has allies and enemies, crops, some history.

11 | Town | 901–2,500 (d6×300+600) | A ruling class, professional soldiers, taxes.

12 | City-State | 2,501–10,000 (d8×1000+2000) | Often ancient, powerful, brutal, and corrupt.

 

Demographics of colors and cultures

When needed, roll 2d6 to determine color, assigning one color to each number. The result indicates the majority (or ruling) color of the area; use that color unless otherwise specified, in which case use the die on the left.

Although most enclaves share a single color and culture, larger enclaves are more likely to show heterogeneity. To determine this, roll 1d6 and multiply the result by the 2d6 size roll; this gives the percentage of the population (round down) belonging to “minority”,  a non-dominant color or culture. At most, you may end up with 72% of other colors and 28% of the dominant color. It is not impossible that there is a minority ruling over several smaller minorities or even a majority.

For bigger enclaves, you can repeat this process to refine the exact composition when necessary.

Example: First, we roll a 7, meaning a settlement (see above). Let’s say it has 200 people, with blue as the majority color. Then we roll a 3, meaning (7 × 3) = 21% of the population are minorities. That’s about 42 green individuals. Are there smaller minorities? Since 42 is equivalent to a small clan (4–5), we roll again and get a 3, deciding there is a smaller minority of 12% red humans (about four people).

Or, in a town of a thousand, we roll a 6 and get a “minority” of 66% (660 people, equivalent to a village, or a roll of 9-10). Now we roll another die and roll 1 – meaning only 9-10%, or less than 60 people, are a smaller minority. This might mean that a group of 340 people of color A are more powerful than 600 people of color B and 60 people of color C. 

Appearance

A typical enclave is a cluster of tents, huts, and low buildings of mud or stone, sometimes surrounded by a palisade of sharpened wood or bone. There are usually a few sentinels, especially at night, and some activity during the day (cooking, eating, weaving, talking, fixing, etc.). Most have a well and a communal fire pit. Each house is home to four or more people.

1. Intertwined with trees

2. Underground

3. Lifted from the ground on stilts or platforms

4. Made of moving tents and wagons

5. Camouflaged

6. Suspended over water

7. Built amidst ancient ruins

8. Huge and mostly empty

9. Carved into rock or cliff face

10. A single massive building

11. Perched atop a great boulder

12. Vivid colors

13. Impossibly tall, narrow buildings

14. Shrouded in mist

15. Dense and tangled, mazelike streets

16. Inside a crater

17. Constantly flooded

18. Built with massive bones

19. Built with scrapped metal

20. Heavily fortified

Customs

Most people hunt, forage, and collect. Some plant crops when the soil and season allow. There is modest trade within the enclave and some exterior commerce. 

The traditional family unit is the most common social group within enclaves, with polygamy and polyandry sometimes permitted to leaders. Bastards, orphans, and prostitutes are common, especially in larger enclaves.

Outsiders are treated with suspicion but can be accepted if they prove themselves useful. Some hospitality is expected, but so are gifts in return. Disturbing customs such as discrimination, cannibalism, infanticide, and slavery are not widespread, but rarely outright rejected either, and some may be temporarily adopted in special circumstances.

1. Property is communal

2. Identity is defined by masks

3. To be accepted, you must be marked

4. Universal vow of silence

5. Adults are cast out at a certain age

6. Children are raised by all

7. Appropriate clothing is mandatory

8. No concept of privacy

9. Visitors have no rights

10. Color determines caste absolutely

11. Travelers welcome for a single day

12. Weapons are forbidden

13. "Couples" are always three

14. Widespread eugenics, infanticide, euthanasia

15. Those who can't fight must serve

16. No activities during daytime

17. Violence is never the answer

18. Everything is permitted

19. You cannot leave without a price

20. Casual cannibalism

Problems

All enclaves face some kind of problem, most of them common to everyone in Primus: scarcity, monsters, strife, and natural disasters. Life is short, danger is common, survival is never guaranteed. Most enclaves, however, are not in obvious danger of immediate destruction, to the best of their knowledge.

1. Besieged by monsters

2. Ruled by tyrants

3. Poverty and hunger

4. Infected by disease

5. People are barren

6. Infiltrated by impostors

7. Filled with criminals

8. Resentful of outsiders

9. Cursed with madness

10. Violently expansionist

11. Ongoing power struggle

12. Damaged by recent war

13. Something sacred was stolen or destroyed

14. Opened a dangerous shelter

15. Half the population is mutating

16. Widespread panic from an unexplained omen

17. Hopelessly indebted to a larger faction

18. Children are disappearing, one by one

19. A prophet has split the community in two

20. Periodic human sacrifice; next one soon

Leadership

In most cases, a single leader (a chief, elder, or warlord by default) holds authority through the implicit consent of the majority and the explicit support of a small circle of allies. They govern for their own benefit as often as they do it for the good of the enclave. There are often rivals and disgruntled minorities who are tolerated but have limited power to change the status quo.

1. The highest bidders

2. Law-enforcing machines

3. A secret society which cannot be mentioned

4. A church or cult

5. An oracle

6. The winners (or losers) of the annual lottery

7. A powerful monster

8. A set of ancient written laws of unknown origin

9. A cabal of sorcerers

10. A psionic who reads every vote before it is cast

11. A semi-mummified elder

12. The wielder of a sacred artifact

13. Whoever survives the local deity's ordeal

14. The family that sacrificed the greatest number

15. The mob rules

16. A conquering warlord (or local thugs)

17. The brain-damaged survivor of hard drugs

18. Blind counsellors, relying on lies

19. A dying monarch with no apparent heirs

20. None - govern yourself

Prejudices

People favor their own enclave first and everyone else at a distance. They instinctively defend the status quo and reject new ideas. They will usually be more welcoming to people of a similar color or language, but many people in Primus are practical and can sometimes set their prejudices aside when there is something to be gained by cooperating, or by double-crossing someone they treat as an ally.

Where this table indicates a prejudice, it should often be noticeable. An enclave might slaughter any beast on sight, or skillfully employ domesticated creatures found nowhere else. A mutant or sorcerer might be hanged at the border as a warning to strangers, or the enclave's ruling elite might be composed entirely of psionics. An aberration could be the object of worship or hatred by the whole community. Lost technology might be feared or carefully studied and hoarded — and wielded exclusively by the tribe's most skilled warriors.

If you want to gauge how significant the prejudice is, roll 1d100. A preference of 90 or more toward technology might mean that all inhabitants are automatons, or at least partly machine. A hatred of 80 or more toward other skin colors indicates a dangerous supremacist culture that is likely to attack outsiders on sight. A near-100 fondness for warriors might resemble a stereotypical ancient Sparta, while a 100% dislike of outsiders calls to mind Clark Ashton Smith's "The Isle of the Torturers".

1. Other skin colors

2. One particular color

3. Mutants

4. Sorcerers

5. Warriors

6. Beasts 

7. Lost technology

8. Outsiders

9. The rich

10. Religion

11. The weak and weary

12. Psionics

13. Nearby communities

14. The poor

15. Automatons

16. Slavery

17. Cannibalism

18. Aberrations

19. Wanderers

20. Hallucinogenic plants

Style

The usual attire in Primus is light clothing, suited to the heat. Modesty is not a common cultural value. Practicality, combined with some natural resistance to the sun, reduces clothes to straps and harnesses to carry tools, weapons, and jewelry. Adornments double as status symbols, worn close to the body rather than displayed on fabric. A good pair of boots or sandals is far more common than pants. Capes and wraps are sometimes used as tools or protection from the elements.

1. Bare skin, little else

2. Tattoos or ritual scars

3. Colorful body paint

4. Skulls, bones and ashes

5. Filed teeth

6. Demon masks and weird armor

7. Colorful silk

8. Lots of spikes

9. Corpse paint

10. Dinosaur or beast hide

11. Camouflage

12. Feathers, wood or straw

13. Machine parts as amulets

14. Piercings or skeletal alterations

15. Closed helmets

16. Completely bald or hairy

17. Heavy robes

18. Face wrappings and goggles

19. Colorful hair, beads or braids

20. Sun-scarred, barely clothed, unkempt

Enclave Buildings (d20)

At the center of most enclaves stands one main hall, larger than the rest, used for gatherings, disputes, celebrations, and the occasional shelter during a crisis. Other buildings exist but are rarely larger or more noticeable than this.

Castle or citadel

Monastery

Prison

Asylum or hospice

Underground vault

Labyrinth

Abandoned ship

Temple or shrine

Pyramid or ziggurat

Mausoleum or catacomb

Tower

Library or archive

Coliseum or arena

Tavern

Slave house

Crashed vehicle, repurposed

Sacrificial altar or blood pit

Quarantine ward

Public market

History

Most inhabitants know a handful of legends about how the enclave began, who the great leaders were, and what enemies were defeated long ago. Most of these are fabrications with no apparent use other than tying the community together, justifying their rights to the land or their possessions, or hiding something much darker than the official story.

1. Escaped slaves or thralls

2. Survivors of a destroyed enclave or tribe

3. Nomads who turned sedentary

4. Woke from vats with no memory

5. Founded by a prophet, now deceased

6. Wiped out the former inhabitants and took everything

7. Remnants of a defeated horde, now forgotten

8. No memory beyond the current generation

9. A union of several refugee groups

10. Nobody talks about it

11. Cut off from the world by natural disaster

12. Built around a single water source that is slowly failing

13. Once believed to be the only enclave in existence

14. Exiled to this location by a larger faction

15. Welcomed by former residents; a rare act of generosity

16. Waiting for a sign that hasn't come

17. Once ruled the world, or so they say

18. Inbred descendants of a single family

19. Fled from something scary that’s still out there

20. A group of raiders, now tax collectors, and their victims

Entering an Enclave

Most enclaves treat visitors in a practical way. Strangers are noticed quickly and someone with authority, or close to it, will approach before long. In smaller enclaves this is often the leader directly. In larger ones, visitors are more likely to be intercepted by a guard or a random inhabitant. Either way, the questions are the same: who are you, where do you come from, what do you want, and what do you offer in exchange?

The results of such conversations, including the enclave's distinctions and the players' Charisma, languages, and skills, will shape how the enclave treats the characters.

Sometimes, however, the enclave's reaction will surprise the characters entirely. The GM can decide this before or after an initial conversation, or even after a mission or quest has been failed or accomplished. Such unusual reactions might occur whenever the GM finds it appropriate, or on a roll of 1 on a d6.

The tables below should be interpreted according to the enclave's disposition toward the characters. A marriage proposal, for example, might be offered warmly, negotiated coldly, or forced outright. An interest in one of the characters, or one of their possessions, could be expressed with a generous offer or outright theft. A duel or game could be a friendly contest where losing is expected and winning earns instant respect — or a fight to the death fixed against the visitors. A neutral disposition might indicate a mixed result — for example, a gentle offer to participate in a heroic but suicidal expedition.

1. An interesting marriage proposal is made.

2. Your skills are exactly what a local problem requires.

3. They need guards or muscle for a current — and possibly dubious — project, conflict, or quest.

4. You are expelled, denied entry, or welcome to come and go freely.

5. There is a permanent position to be filled and you seem adequate.

6. Your exotic stories, customs, and objects provoke admiration or mockery.

7. They seem eager to share information with you.

8. You are chosen as impartial judges of a local dispute or duel.

9. Invited to share the beds of willing partners. Probably no strings attached.

10. The enclave values your gold or possessions highly.

11. They offer you something valuable for a reasonable price.

12. You are invited to participate in a welcoming party or local ritual.

13. They want you to carry a message, package, or person somewhere.

14. Someone invites you for a meal, with unclear motives.

15. You are encouraged to participate in a game or duel.

16. One specific character is treated with awe — because of a prophecy, a resemblance, or a sign on their person.

17. A powerful figure decides, on instinct, that you are to be loved or feared.

18. You are mistaken for someone or something else entirely.

19. They insist on trading gifts of unequal value.

20. You provoke different reactions in different factions within the enclave.

---

Most tables were adapted or inspired by from Dark Fantasy Places.

This last table was inspired by something I read from Taylor Lane. Thank you for the inspiration!

---

Here are some three cities I generated instantly using these. I used one main distinction plus three traits, but maybe two traits would be enough.

Mud city

~300 people; Distinction (Appearance): Constantly flooded

Customs: No concept of privacy.

Problem: Widespread panic from an unexplained omen.

Leadership: A psionic who reads every vote before it is cast.

A ruined, primitive version of Venice. Lots of mud. I can see it. People are panicked, the leader might be going crazy or causing the panic for peculiar motives.

Mistwalkers

~20 people; Distinction (Customs): Universal vow of silence

Appearance: Shrouded in mist.

Problem: Infiltrated by impostors.

Prejudice: Hatred of wanderers.

This looks like a creepy encounter more than a village to wander into. Unlikely to be a peaceful encounter. As the PCs cannot count how many there are in the mist, they'll have to be very brave to start a fight...

Spire city

~1,500 people; Distinction (Problems): Half the population is mutating

Appearance: Impossibly tall, narrow buildings.

Customs: Appropriate clothing is mandatory.

Leadership: A conquering warlord and their thugs.

Now this is more interesting. A big city, tall spires, maybe elaborate clothing (with 1500 people, some are recognized only by that; there is a possibility of infiltration...), ruled by thugs, with a severe mutation problem. Maybe he main building resemble something out of the Judge Dredd movie.

I think it works. I will try it in practice this week, as the PCs are approaching a new settlement!

Feedback is welcome! Leave a comment below!

---

Back to the table of contents.

Zothique revisited, and more Ashton Smith

I have wondered many times (and even tried to investigate as best I could) why Clark Ashton Smith is not in the Appendix N. Not only because his stories, genre, and era would make him a perfect candidate, but because he would be even MORE fitting than most of the books that are actually listed there.

He is certainly a precursor, considered one of the three giants of the "weird" fiction genre alongside Lovecraft and Howard, both of whom receive prominent placement in the Appendix. Clark Ashton Smith has a touch of Howard's sword and sorcery, a measure of Lovecraftian horror, but blends genres more freely than either (including also a larger dose of humor and imaginative worldbuilding).

His tales, like few others of his era, genuinely feel like D&D adventures, something that would only be matched by the later works of Leiber and Andre Norton (Leiber was influenced by Smith, although Norton's toad-like beings might be an indirect influence). He is one of the most important originators of the Dying Earth genre, which would go on to shape Jack Vance, himself a major influence on Gygax. In the same vein, Smith's ornate and vivid prose likely had an enormous influence on Gygax's writing style, perhaps also filtered through Jack Vance.

The Zothique stories are among Clark Ashton Smith's most impressive work. I recently reread the entire cycle, and truly each one of them could stand on its own as a D&D adventure. Dunsany's stories have a similar effect, but many of them seem to build toward a single climax of maximum strangeness, whereas the Zothique tales are more often defined by a succession of unusual situations, traps, monsters, and obstacles. His protagonists, too, are very D&D-ish: not legendary heroes like Conan or the largely outmatched humans of Lovecraft, but brave, sometimes foolish, often selfish, adventurers that live or die based on skill and sheer luck.

(They are also sometimes found in parties, or with hirelings/servants, which is rare except for Tolkien).

Could it be that Gygax simply did not know Smith? Given his enormous influence, I find that unlikely; several elements of D&D appear to be directly inspired by the author, such as the Geas spell (also adopted by Vance), and the rich vocabulary for the dead and undead: ghouls, liches, necromancers, and more. Another hypothesis, perhaps more plausible, is that Gygax simply was not a great fan (which, again, is odd given his influence and proximity to R. E. Howard, Fritz Leiber, Jack Vance, and H. P. Lovecraft , some of "the most immediate influences upon AD&D"). 

Maybe Smith was simply less popular, which seems to be the case. This is the most likely explanation I have so far.

At least the Zothique stories point to another reason, one that seems rather obvious in hindsight but that I may have overlooked because I am already a dark fantasy reader: many of the stories are too dark, and a significant number involve acts that constitute or suggest necrophilia (though not explicitly) alongside torture, alcoholism, cruelty, decadence, revenge, and so forth, sometimes with no heroic characters to serve as counterweight.

Even so, the Zothique cycle strikes me as particularly grim, and not all of Smith's stories follow the same tendency. It now seems worth revisiting his other tales (equally impressive and equally suited to D&D) to determine whether this explanation is sufficient, or whether another reason might yet be found. For now, the mystery remains.

The Face in the Frost (review)

The Face in the Frost, by John Bellairs, is a somewhat odd book to include in the Appendix N. Apparently, Gygax was a big fan of it (though he said he read it after D&D was created), as mentioned on Dragon magazine #22; it is also mentioned in the DMG itself (thanks to @John_Cyrano, on X).

Dragon #22

DMG

The whole book has a certain young adult fiction vibe; a blend of satire, oneirism, and postmodernism. The first thing I noticed is that it spends long paragraphs describing the setting: the rooms and chambers of a house, the plants, the locations, the roads, even the weather conditions and clothing. The few action scenes, however, are described in an extremely rushed manner. In a way, it's as if the common criticisms of Tolkien's work had been made flesh: pages go by describing details that seem non-essential to the story. That's not necessarily a bad thing; in fact, the landscapes are so vividly described that you can often picture yourself inside the story, or at least inside its physical world, even if the action itself isn't very exciting.

All in all, the book has many strengths: it is well written, the descriptions are beautiful, there is plenty of humor, and it even manages to blend (in a postmodern way) fantasy with history, constantly keeping you uncertain about the exact relationship between the world of the story and our own. The worldbuilding, however, is not very developed, but merely hinted at, perhaps as a running joke.

The book has its cool moments, like a stroll through a dark fortress, but some boring ones too, and seems to point to a great climax that never truly arrives. What the book lacks, essentially, is action. The characters are charismatic, but not especially memorable. In fact, I often thought the book had to have some prequel that would explain why we should care about these people.

The magic bears little resemblance to D&D, despite Gygax's comments, but it is a postmodern mess of religion, tarot, and randomness. There are very few monsters or warriors. The most obvious comparison is with Terry Pratchett's Discworld, which shares a similar, somewhat satirical sense of humor, but managed to develop the form with greater success.

Overall, a fun but ultimately unsatisfying read, and not one of the strongest entries in the Appendix N.

Dungeon Crawler Carl (book review)

This was a fun read if not particularly meaningful. It takes place in an RPG world that works like a televised tournament, similar to The Running Man and The Hunger Games. Participants, like Carl and his cat, face obstacles and fights, can earn sponsors, and have to balance the ever-present danger with the marketing persona they build for the public.

The book is very light and doesn't take itself seriously, which is good IMO. It's more laid-back than other books that try to have fun with RPG tropes, like Kings of the Wyld, but it also doesn't go much further than those tropes. The humor is very tied to current internet culture — silly jokes, profanity, and even a cat that seems to exist purely to attract online audiences, alongside memes and foot jokes. The author's social media even shows up at the end of the book, reinforcing that vibe.

The protagonist is at once a hero and full of "modern" flaws, like apparently being cheated on by his girlfriend. The writing has plenty of irony and sarcasm. Even though the book is structured entirely like a video game (with frequent, small dopamine hits from gaining treasure or leveling up) some descriptions are quite cinematic, as if it were designed from the start to become some kind of TV series, maybe animated.

Curiously, the aspect of everything feeling like a video game is underexplored. You'd imagine that, given the structure of the game, people who are heavy gamers would have a huge advantage, but the protagonist seems to succeed more through strength (he is some kind of military and lifts weights; he  sounds likes like an redditor "bro" with above-average might and empathy), smarts, and luck. He does use some gamer tactics, but the other competitors also seem to win more by chance or brute force than by being strategic nerds. Maybe that gets developed in later volumes.

The monsters aren't especially interesting either, they're basically D&D monsters, kobolds and orcs, along with a few meme creatures like "Karens", hoarders, meth-heads, goths and roided-up jocks. The spells don't stand out, the traps are absent so far, and the map doesn't bring much that's new. Overall, it's a book about D&D that won't give you great ideas for your own dungeons, unless your game happens to be based on X-crawl.

The book fits squarely in the so-called "progression fantasy" genre, where the appeal is watching characters accumulate powers and stat boosts. This is the first of that genre that I've read. For me, it takes some of the joy out of the journey (well, this even bothers me in D&D, so much so that I made a recent post about it that stirred up some controversy). There are moments where the book could have let the hero make serious mistakes, but it seems to rescue him from unintended consequences without apparent reason (though maybe there is some explanation later in the series).

On the other hand, it is all very honest and straightforward. What you see on the cover is what you get in most of the book, and I'm guessing this will continue throughout the other books (although a look at the covers indicates that there might be at least one unexpected twist). Being the first in a series, it plants a lot of seeds but resolves no major conflict. It feels like just the beginning of a long list of conflicts that will resolve after several books; I think the series might have 10 or more; I am unlikely to continue at the moment, but if this kind of fantasy suits you, I'll admit it was often a page-turner and an enjoyable read.

Minimum Viable Fighter (B/Xish)

I’ve written before about how the B/X fighter feels too weak compared to other classes, and even less interesting than dwarves or clerics. In my minimalist OSR project, the goal was to add as few features as possible while still giving the fighter a boost in power and fun.

I avoided the complexity of proficiencies, fighting styles, and the dreaded feats (even though I like them) and instead settled on two additions.

First, the cleave mechanic gives fighters a boost they need: it shines against hordes of weak foes, scales with level, and eventually offers some advantage even against stronger enemies. It’s also very satisfying to see a fighter mowing down hordes of minions, like Conan or Elric.

Second, extra attacks ensure damage keeps pace. At level seven, the extra attack raises damage combat output and cleave potential*; at level fifteen, another attack continues that trend, aligning with AD&D’s progression.

(*I think I like this way of dealing with 1.5 attacks, but maybe 2 then 1 then 2 works better, not sure).

This may not make fighters as versatile as clerics who can raise the dead, but it does make them far stronger than before. The open question is whether demi‑human classes like dwarves, elves, and halflings should share these benefits. In my system, races are separate from classes, so I haven’t tackled that.

Anyway, here is my minimum viable fighter.

Will playtest soon.

---

Fighter. 

You might call yourself a knight, a barbarian warrior, a soldier, or a ranger, but it makes no difference: your main skill is violence. A useful talent in this perilous world.

§  HD: 1d8.

§  Attack Bonus: level.

§  Saving Throw: level +3.

§  Cleave: When you reduce an opponent to 0 HP, you may immediately make an additional attack against another opponent in range, for a maximum number of times equal to your level.

§  Extra Attack: Fighters gain 1½ attacks* per round at level 7, 2 at level 15, and 3 at level 20. (*This means your second attack deals half damage, round up).

Minimalist OSR equipment list

Maybe I spent more time than I should have studying this list, but I believe I managed to summarize most of the equipment needed for a D&D adventure into major categories in a reasonably coherent way.

The price of one gold piece per day for food is expensive by historical standards, but it aligns with what most D&D editions recommend. And, of course, it can easily be swapped for a silver standard, if you prefer.

This updates the list on Dak Fantasy Basic slightly and convert prices to gold.

I believe this list is compatible with B/X prices when possible, but also the prices of items relative to one another are more accurate by historical standards and more sensible overall.

Please let me know if you have any corrections or objections!

--

Currency

The usual currency in this game is coins of various metals. For simplicity’s sake, assume all coins have similar weight, and each metal is ten times more valuable than the next in the list.

1 platinum piece (pp) = 10 gold pieces (gp) = 100 silver pieces (sp) = 1,000 copper pieces (cp).

Players start the game with 3d6 x10 gp. A gold coin is enough for hot meal, a cold beer or a night in a collective room. Copper pieces are rarely worth carrying for adventurers, but are common currency in hamlets etc. A common laborer will earn rough 1 gp per day and eat cheaper food.

100 coins weight one “item” (i.e., roughly 3 pounds).

  

Miscellaneous equipment

 

Food (one day): Fresh (1 gp, weight 1), must be eaten within a week. Rations (2 gp, weight 1/3) last for one month. A hot meal or cold beer in a tavern costs 1 gp.

 

Common tools (5 gp, weight 1): backpack (holds 10 weight), bedrolls (winter bedrolls: 10 gp, weight 2), blank book, block and tackle (requires rope), board game, camping gear (flint, small blade and hammer), chain (per feet), climbing gear (for wood surfaces or similar; stone climbing gear is 10 gp, weight 2), clothes (winter clothing: 10 gp, weight 2), cooking tools, crowbars, fishing tools, grappling hook, hammers, healing kits (10 uses), hooded oil lantern, hunting traps, merchant's scale, musical instruments (small, like drums, horns, trumpets; larger and more complex instruments cost 10 gp or more), rope (silk, per 20 feet), shackles, steel mirror, winter blanket.

 

Heavy tools (5 gp, weight 3): caltrops (enough for 10 square feet), shovel, pick, iron spikes (30), tent (1 person).

 

Cheap tools (1 sp, weight 3): 15 torches, 10' pole, 20 candles (weight 1).

 

Expensive tools (25 gp, weight 1): holy symbol, lock picks, grimoire, luxury versions of common tools (that might be 10% better or give you a +1 bonus to a test).

 

Liquids: water for one day (usually free, weight 1; weight 2 in very hot weather), pint of oil (1 gp, weight 1/3; can be lit and thrown 20' for 1d6 fire damage), holy water (25 gp, weight 1/3; can be thrown 20' for 1d8 damage against undead, demons, etc.).

 

Skills & tools

Skills will often require tools such as a healing kit, climbing gear, lock picks, etc. Improvised tools will often cause disadvantages. Some tasks will be impossible without tools (GM's call).

Additional reading:

https://methodsetmadness.blogspot.com/2026/03/minimalist-weapons-2026.html

Snakes & Ladders: The Problem of Linear Progression in D&D

Among games that remain popular to this day, one of the oldest in the world is called Snakes and Ladders, a game that practically everyone knows (see image below). Movement is essentially linear, from start to finish, but there are two types of shortcuts/detours: ladders, which accelerate your progress toward the goal, and snakes, which send you back a few spaces. It is a simple mechanic, but one that creates real tension between advancement and setback.

The Goal of D&D and Its Structural Problem

Without getting into the debate about what exactly the goal of D&D is, certainly one of the central purposes of its characters is to become more powerful, that is, to rise from level one, where they are basically beginners, all the way to becoming legendary heroes. Gygax himself (if I'm not mistaken) has stated that this was the goal of the game: to transform starting characters into heroes like Conan or Elric.

The problem is structural. In game terms, the route from level one to level twenty always moves in the same direction. You only gain XP, you only gain levels, you never lose them. It is a one-way street.

The older designers did not entirely ignore this problem. Hence the mechanic of undead creatures that drain levels, creating an effect similar to the snakes in the original game. The Dungeon Master's Guide also included situations that could temporarily reduce your levels, such as exhaustion after a grueling march, or situations of permanent loss such as aging, which can only be reversed with very powerful spells.

Of course, XP is not the only measure of a character's power. With experience, a character gains abilities and hit points, and some abilities can be lost temporarily (often for no more than a day). HP can also be lost, and in older D&D this could have more lasting consequences (perhaps weeks rather than days) than in modern versions. Finally, one can lose money (whether because raising the dead comes at some cost, or through theft, etc.).

It must be acknowledged that some RPGs, such as Call of Cthulhu, famous for its downward spiral into madness, and other horror RPGs in general (Unknown Armies, certain versions of Kult, etc.), exhibit quite clear and lasting negative effects in their systems.

In any case, aside from the issue of undead creatures draining levels, there are not many truly permanent losses in D&D. The only real loss available is the death of the character, which even then can easily be circumvented by a resurrection spell. In most versions of D&D, there is no universal mechanism for lasting negative consequences: the loss of an attribute, the amputation of a limb, a permanent scar (except as an optional rule in the DMG to save a PC reduced to zero HP, an option I find quite appealing). There are no significant setbacks, save death itself. Using the original metaphor: it would be as if every snake on the board led back to the first square.

There are other tools in the game that attempt to work around this limitation, such as creatures that destroy equipment (even magical weapons), that petrify characters, or that impose curses and other lasting effects. But these are isolated/specific solutions, not structural ones; they only happen with a very small percentage of creatures and situations.

Another problem is that D&D players, accustomed to constant and uninterrupted advancement, tend to dislike losing special items, levels, or anything they have already incorporated as part of their character. They may even come to see this kind of loss as a form of cheating.

In modern D&D, there is debate over whether characters can even die at all, so the line of advancement becomes, in the end, a conveyor belt with no way back: you can only move forward.

Source: Wikipedia.

The Parallel with Video Games

It is worth noting that older video games, also divided into "levels" (or stages), followed a logic quite similar to that of Snakes and Ladders. Reaching the end of a stage meant advancing to the next, but dying at any point sent you back to the beginning of that stage, not to the beginning of the entire game, and never (or almost never) to a previous stage. Alongside this, there was a system of permanent loss: a limited number of "lives" which, once exhausted, forced you back to the very beginning of the game (that is, "level one").

Some more modern and less linear games that generate enthusiasm among RPG players (such as Dark Souls, Bloodborne, and Darkest Dungeon) play with this question of real loss in more sophisticated ways. Death in Dark Souls does not send you back to level zero, but it frequently causes the loss of all accumulated XP. In the case of Darkest Dungeon, where you control groups of characters, the death of a hero is a permanent loss for the team, something no spell can undo.

Why This Matters

Even for those who prefer a narrative in which characters never die and always advance, that advancement would be more interesting if it were not purely linear, that is, a little more like Snakes and Ladders. In other words: on the road to heroism, you always lose something.

High-level characters would carry, in their character sheets and their stories, a series of losses, obstacles, and scars. This enriches both narrative and simulation, whatever the goal of the players at the table may be.

In more narrative games influenced by story games, setbacks make the narrative more interesting (and there are books and RPGs at least partially built around this concept of gain and loss, such as Hamlet's Hit Points, Fate, etc.). In games that aim to reproduce cinema, literature, or the hero's journey, an advancement without setbacks makes little sense either.

In games focused on challenge, obstacles become more complex and dangerous when there are real chances of loss. Likewise, in games that seek simulation or immersion, such dangers make the game more believable and realistic.

In short: from any angle, questioning (and perhaps overcoming) the unidirectionality that governs character advancement in D&D may be an experience not only valid, but necessary for the evolution of the hobby.

(Solutions? Probably the subject of a future post. However, I will say permanent wounds are a great idea, IMO, as they could happen in any combat not just against very specific monsters. This could take the form of scars, diminished abilities, etc. Alternatively, expand level loss to include other situations besides undead and marching, maybe as a general fatigue mechanic, so that wounded/tired MUs cannot cast their best spells and tried fighters attack a bit slower).

Additional reading:

https://methodsetmadness.blogspot.com/2024/12/nothing-to-lose-but-their-lives-stakes.html

https://methodsetmadness.blogspot.com/2023/09/ad-dmg-cover-to-cover-part-ix-pages-100.html

Characters (Prismatic Planet)

Most of the planet's inhabitants live in small enclaves, villages, and isolated settlements, separated from one another by vast stretches of hostile terrain. Great cities and powerful factions exist, but they are the exception. Because the demands of survival are largely the same everywhere, certain skills appear in virtually every community; warriors, survivalists, psionics, and scavengers among them. Sorcerers and scholars are rarer. The “known world” is, for most people, a small place.

The player characters are usually something rarer still: the ones who walked away from their communities. Whether driven out, drawn away, or simply unable to stay, they now belong to a wandering class that exists between settlements. Most will have come from one of the small communities described above, though some may have broken from a larger organization.

Player characters can most often begin free from any overly restrictive obligations to factions, groups, cities, or specific tribes. They may also belong to a small community independent of the great empires and organizations. The purpose of this is to allow them freedom to act and to gradually come into contact with the world. This arrangement lets the characters discover the world at the same time as the players themselves.

For the same reason, and because the vast majority of the planet's inhabitants have very limited knowledge, the players begin without major details about history (usually limited to one or two generations before the character at most, plus a few scattered legends). Their grasp of geography should not extend beyond the land they have crossed on foot (roughly a hundred kilometers at most), though even the most sheltered character will know the mountains on the horizon and the direction of the nearest great body of water, if one exists within sight or legend. Their understanding of technology is minimal; they know of the existence of artifacts from the progenitors, but except for some specific skill, they can barely distinguish technology from simple sorcery.

Likewise, the power of the great empires and groups is mostly unknown to them, unless they live near one, in which case they will have heard of its influence, generally negative or at best dubious. Even those who are part of a great faction or organization rarely see beyond their immediate role within it.

It is also possible to run a campaign in which the players are part of a powerful empire or group, where their movements are restricted and they must carry out missions and follow orders until they decide to desert or rebel, etc. This kind of restrictive campaign, however, is not the standard I prefer.

Therefore, here follows a list of possibilities that explain why the players are wandering more or less alone, or in a very small group, throughout the world. Roll 1d6, than 1d8, and check the table below (or choose your own story!).

Mixed groups, made of characters of different origins, colors and even species are permitted.

Clyde Caldwell

 

1. Your settlement/tribe was destroyed by...

1.1. Dangerous beasts.

1.2. A large faction.

1.3. Famine or plague.

1.4. A progenitor or titan.

1.5. An enemy clan.

1.6. An ancient machine.

1.7. A criminal horde.

1.8. Something unknown. You came back from the fields to find ruin.

2. You were once a slave, but...

2.1. You escaped during a crisis.

2.2. You deserted as soon as they trusted you.

2.3. You bought your freedom.

2.4. An owner let you go quietly.

2.5. A rival faction freed you as a political gesture.

2.6. You outlasted or killed your owner.

2.7. You were set free to be hunted for sport.

2.8. You participated in a rebellion.

3. You were expelled from your group, because you...

3.1. Were a thief or tax evader.

3.2. Committed assault, justified or not.

3.3. Blaspheme against authorities or deities.

3.4. Show mercy when you shouldn’t.

3.5. Refused to follow orders.

3.6. Accidentally offended powerful people.

3.7. Became the target of an envious rival.

3.8. Were cursed or persecuted by outside forces.

4. You were cast out or abandoned, because...

4.1. There was not enough to feed you.

4.2. You were orphaned and had no kin.

4.3. You found out some inconvenient truth.

4.4. Lost during a crisis and never found by again.

4.5. You lost a public dispute.

4.6. You were physically different.

4.7. Your group disbanded after a loss.

4.8. Your mind was just too different.

5. You simply woke up...

5.1. In a vat in a ruin, fully grown, with no memory of before.

5.2. Alone in the wastes, days from anywhere, with no idea how you got there.

5.3. In a stranger's home, after they rescued you from a disaster.

5.4. After a fever that left you like dead for days.

5.5. In a cell, with no memory of being put there.

5.6. Half-buried after an earthquake.

5.7. After being left for dead by a rival. Buried, dumped, or simply abandoned to die.

5.8. Surrounded by other victims of a man-eating monster.

6. You escaped abduction, just before being...

6.1. Sold at a slave market.

6.2. Sacrificed by a cult.

6.3. Conscripted into an army.

6.4. Robbed and killed on a trade road.

6.5. Used as a test subject by the Progenitors.

6.6. Eaten by cannibals.

6.7. Branded as cattle.

6.8. Aware of their motives.

---

Back to the table of contents.

Currency, precious metals, taxes, and training

I'm currently writing the equipment section for my "minimalist OSR" game. I've recently gone back to XP per gold spent. Hopefully, that will encourage PCs to donate to church, sleep indoors, carouse, or whatever is appropriate to their alignment and personality. But that's a whole other discussion.

What I want to talk about today is precious metals, and specifically a problem I keep coming back to: gold's value is severely degraded in D&D. On one hand, I want to be more or less faithful to the original rules. On the other, I like to maintain at least a minimum of internal coherence, and I can't shake my discomfort with the idea of any common weapon being worth almost its weight in gold (or, in the case of a bow, more than its weight in gold). At that point, gold is too heavy to even be considered a viable currency, and copper starts to feel less like medieval coinage and more like the Weimar Republic, with people hauling wheelbarrows of coins just to buy bread.

I've heard various explanations for this, the most common being a kind of gold rush that inflates prices across the board, so a sword ends up costing ten to a hundred times more than it would in actual history. Then there's the coin size problem: ten coins weigh about a pound, which is absurdly impractical (in my current system I am considering 100 coins to weight about a couple of pounds, which improves things somewhat).

The other issue is player wealth. If characters earn more than half their XP from gold, a fighter reaching level six might already be sitting on 10,000 gp or more. He can essentially buy every piece of available equipment (and wagons to carry it, with horses to pull it...), even at inflated prices, and hire several retainers on top of that (which isn't necessarily bad). The problem is that my players, specifically, start treating wealth accumulation as the point of the game. They stop spending, the pressure to go out and find more treasure starts to feel increasingly artificial and forced, and the whole economy becomes more and more implausible, even if the adventures keep coming.

There are several standard fixes for this. Many people suggest draining gold through taxes, maintenance fees, making PCs targets for bandits, or (as AD&D recommends) requiring them to pay for training to level up. 

None of that appeals to me. I can hardly imagine Conan or Elric paying for a trainer (although they must have been trained according to their culture in status in the past). And my players, being perfectly rational (and I mean this is a fantasy, setting, of course...), will dodge every tax and respond to any tax collector with disproportionate violence. Worse, constantly handing out gold just to take it back makes me spend even more time focused on wealth, which is the opposite of what I want.

Then I read some Gorgon's Grimoire posts about the subject (like this), and an idea clicked into place; one that solves several of these problems at once, by letting the things I dislike cancel each other out.

Here's how it works: imagine that the legitimate local currency is whatever is stamped with the official seal of the local lord or empire (as suggested in conversation by Gorgon's Grimoire - thank you!). The coins the PCs pull out of dungeons are "frontier" coins; recovered from lost empires or inimical creatures, unregulated, unofficial, not recognized within current civilization. Any merchant who accepts them still has to exchange them for official currency before they can use them to buy anything inside the normal economy, which means they'll charge a heavy premium to cover that conversion cost.

This explains inflated prices without requiring an extreme gold rush. It's not only that goods are (notably) more expensive, it's that the PCs' money is worth less because of what it is and where it came from. They can't be bothered paying taxes or regularizing their hoard, and the prices they pay reflect that. Some merchants might try to smuggle the coins or find workarounds, but that's not the PCs' problem. Most will simply take the treasure to the appropriate authorities, pay the conversion fees, and pass the cost along.

It's a solution that feels organic rather than punitive, and it actually fits the fiction.

Of course, the occasional tyrannical ruler might start thinking the PCs are still not paying enough taxes, and some criminal guilds might consider a heist followed by forgery to make the coins legit... but then again, only occasionally. Money is not the main focus of the PCs or the game.

EDIT: BTW, these big costs include some upkeep too, so I can also ignore those...

Minimalist (?) turn undead, plus a reflection on playtesting

Here is my minimalist version of turn undead, which precludes the need for a turn undead table, and uses 1d6 instead of 2d6 plus another 2d6 plus table:

Turn Undead: Clerics can repel or destroy undead. Turning is attempted once per turn, in lieu of an attack. Turned undead flee by any means available and will not harm or contact the cleric. To turn undead, roll 1d6, add the cleric's level, and subtract the target's HD (e.g., 2 for zombies). A result of 5+ succeeds; 10+ simply destroys them permanently. The roll result also indicates the total HD of undead affected (minimum one creature, maximum 20 HD affected). For example, if you roll 11 against zombies, 5 of them are destroyed; against skeletons, 11 are destroyed.

This is the type of rule I want for my game; maps reasonably close to the original B/X (at least to my liking), but a bit simpler, faster, leaner, easier (it also expands to RC levels).

(BTW I can take no credit for it as apparently Delta wrote something similar more than a decade ago; since I take much inspiration from his blog, I might have read it at some point).

In practice, however, I found that this is not enough for even the simplest games. If using this rule (or even the original B/X rules), the players will certainly ask simple questions like "how often can I turn?", "how far", "for how long", etc. It happened in my last campaign.

And the text simply doesn't say. The Rules Cyclopedia adds a much longer text (and table) - but not many answers either. Same in the AD&D PHB.

5e D&D, on the other hand, clearly answers all these questions (30-foot radius, 1 minute or until the creature takes damage, etc).

I'm probably adding such details to my own game since they were obviously needed at my table. So my version might even look a bit longer than B/X, which wasn't my original goal. 

Old school D&D seems to work very well in practice; people often say it is because Gygax etc. had immense wargaming playtesting experience. But I have a feeling that old school GMs often relied on their experience and rulings over having things spelled out in the book, which some people may appreciate but certainly brings endless problems when you don't have much experience with a system and need to learn from the book.

In other words, these games were likely playtested by people who were familiar with wargames, instead of given to newbies to see how understandable they were.

Modern D&D is much more complex (and even verbose and repetitive at times) but often better explained. And, to be honest, I don't think you can get "minimalist points" by omission and incompletion. If the book needs a "good GM" to work, it is not a great book, as most GMs are average by definition (or, at the very least, the book cannot take much credit for the rules if the GM has to create most of them).

Anyway, I keep looking for my ideal D&D - say, something as simple as B/X but as clear as modern D&D. This, I hope, is one step in that direction.