I must create a system, or be enslaved by another man's. I will not reason and compare: my business is to create.

- William Blake

Saturday, May 23, 2026

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.

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.

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.

Tuesday, May 12, 2026

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.

Saturday, May 09, 2026

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.

Monday, May 04, 2026

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.

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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).