S is for Sandbox Part I: What is a Sandbox?

I know that I said it earlier, but for those who missed it, these blog posts represent my opinions.  I am not going to write “in my humble opinion” after everything I write, or even the web-slang “IMHO”.  If you read something that you find offensive, apparently being promoted as fact, just assume the imaginary IMHO.  It will make both of our lives that much easier.

This exploration of sandbox-style gaming will begin to pull together some of the disparate threads of the other “alphabet series” blog posts in the Nest.  This is simply because the sandbox philosophy underlies many of the other posts in that series. 

So, what is a sandbox?  What exactly is meant by that term?   Why is it relevant today?

“Sandbox” is used in many ways, by many gamers, and the basic idea has been muddied by a generation of “Adventure Path/Railroad” players and GMs seeking to promote their particular modus operandi by obscuring the meaning and benefits of the sandbox.  Sometimes this has been done innocently; sometimes not. 

There are bloggers/posters I could point to who seem to make a career out of their attempts to rewrite the text and experiences of those who were involved with earlier gaming.  Some, of course, will fall prey to their bull----; especially among those whose experiences encompass only “modern” games and/or gaming.  Wiser, and more experienced, heads will not be fooled.

In the context used here, a sandbox is a gaming environment in which the direction of play is driven by the choices of the players, rather than by a series of encounters/game actions that must occur to meet with the Game Master’s chosen “plot”.   A sandbox is an attempt at a “breathing world” that the players experience, and that allows them to follow their own interests within its context.

A sandbox is not featureless – it is not an endless ocean without a star to steer by.  As described in earlier blog posts, choice requires both context and consequence to be meaningful.  A setting without context is not a sandbox.

A sandbox is always in motion.  This is a necessary part of both context, and of creating a “breathing world”.  A sandbox contains within it the plots and schemes not only of the player characters, but also of NPCs – both humans and otherwise.  Some of these schemes the PCs will seek to thwart; others they will seek to aid.  Still others they will never become aware of.  In some cases, some PCs may be on either side of a scheme, as fits their own interests.  It contains also natural events – diseases, volcanic eruptions, earthquakes, tides, etc. – that simply occur when and where they do, regardless of where the PCs are or what they are doing.  The GM does not decide what the PCs are “supposed to do” within the context they are presented with.  That is not his job.

A sandbox reacts to the PCs, to the NPCs, and to the events occurring within its “breathing world”.  Actions have consequences.  The way the world changes is part of the context for future choices, and is a clue as to the behind-the-scenes actions of NPCs and others.  

A sandbox is not without thematic elements.  It is not without motion.  It is not without plot, except in one special sense:  It is without the GM deciding what the PCs should do (i.e., determining the “plot” of the PC’s “story”).  It need not be infinite in scope; it need not allow any possible action (just as the real world doesn’t allow people to fly like Superman or time travel like the Doctor).  Within its bounds, and within its contextual space, though, it must allow the players to decide the course of their own character’s destinies.  It must give them the tools to do so.

Because it bears repeating, the only thing that a sandbox lacks is the GM making decisions for the Player Characters, either overtly or covertly.  And, that is a damn good thing to lack.

In short, it is the opposite of an Adventure Path.  And it is in opposition to a railroad.  A sandbox seeks not to limit choice to a narrow parameter, but to enable choice making that is rich in both context and consequence.  It does not tell a single story, known in rough outline even before the events take place, but provides an environment in which many stories take place.  And those stories are “what happened” rather than “what was destined to happen”.  The stories take place after play

There are people out there who possess amazing abilities as storytellers, who can hold a group so rapt that they are completely unaware of how narrow the range of their choices really is.  There are storytellers good enough that, although their audience is aware, they are engaged enough in the story that they do not care. 

Likewise, there are players who just want to engage in a table top skirmish game.  There are players who don’t want to make decisions, who just want to go along with the flow.  There are definitely people who want others to make choices for them, and who would prefer to engage in something far less than a “breathing world”.  Essentially, they want the limited palette of a computer game at the table, and often because they have never experienced anything more.

Yet, for those of us who actually enjoy role-playing games – even if we also enjoy interactive storytelling games, skirmish games, and/or computer games – the sandbox is the only format that even comes close to providing satisfaction. 

There is nothing wrong with wanting to tell a story or play a skirmish game.  They are just not the same thing as a role-playing game is.  Pretending otherwise started as a means to sell so-called “computer role-playing games” and continued so that publishers could more easily sell other entertainments akin to role-playing games.  "Of course it's a role-playing game!  It says so on the cover!"

It should be a no-brainer that, to the degree the Game Master restricts players from making choices for their characters from the standpoint (context) of their roles, he also restricts role-playing.  To fully experience a role-playing game, a sandbox is a requirement.  Anything less is…..less.  In many cases, very much less.

The sandbox remains relevant, because it is the singular important thing that table top gaming does better than its competitors.  Want to hear a compelling story?  The control an author or director has over characters/cast means that many novels and films will be better than your amateur storyteller.  If you want to experience the same, you will expect a “computer role-playing game” to limit your choices, and the railroading elements are therefore less likely to get in the way.   Want to be involved in a skirmish?  The computer does it better, crunching all the numbers for you.  Even hanging out with your friends can be more fun with a barbeque or at a pub.  And, if learning the game rules is work, running a game is exponentially more so.

If gaming has become less relevant than it was in its Gygaxian heyday, this is the reason why.   RPGs can offer many things in addition to the sandbox.  When they fail to offer the sandbox as the most basic mode of play, not only do they limit the “role-playing” allowed within the context of the “game”, but they also tend to limit the “game” allowed in context with the “role-playing”.  And they come into direct competitions with entertainments that do the same, but do it better.

(How constraining play in a non-sandbox mode limits the actual “game” is discussed in the “C is for…” posts in this series.)

NEXT:  Part II:  Why System Matters

S is for Skill Use

Since it seems to be a "hot topic" due to musings on the WotC site, I thought I would share some bits from the "Skill Use" section I've written for RCFG.  Later on, I intend on writing a series of "S is for Sandbox" blog posts, but for right now.....S is for Skill Use.

(Most of this will be OGC under the OGL in the upcoming RCFG ruleset.  If you want to use some part of this -- which is not already OGC due to appearing elsewhere -- in your own project, send me an email at ravencrowking at hotmail dot com.)

Without further ado:

Trying Again

Unless a consequence of failure prevents an additional attempt, it is usually possible for a character to try a skill check up to three times before success becomes impossible.

A skill check that has become impossible due to three failures can be attempted again when the character gains another rank in the relevant skill.

In some cases, the Game Master may allow additional checks, but will apply a —2 penalty to all subsequent checks for each failed skill check that has gone before.

The Game Master may allow a new check after significant time has passed, allowing the character a chance to reflect on the causes of failure, even if the character has not gained a level or increased his or her modifier. 

The Game Master determines what qualifies as “significant time”.

DESIGNER NOTE:  Three Strikes

There is a reason that characters usually only gain three chances to succeed  at a particular task — it prevents the game from becoming stale.

In some SRD-derived games, a character can keep making checks until she succeeds.  This means that, unless there is some penalty for failure, when the GM sets the DC, he automatically knows the end result.  Skills become a binary on/off switch, where either an eventual roll of “20” will succeed, or it will not.

This is the same reason that RCFG uses a variable for the Take 20 mechanic….to prevent setting the DC from dictating the outcome.

Three chances still allows characters to take a wild stab at  a task, try harder by using the Take 10 mechanic, and then make their best attempt with the Take 20 mechanic, if circumstances allow.

Taking 20

When a character has plenty of time and is faced with no threats or distractions, and there is no penalty for failure, the character can Take 20.  In general, this means that the character is well rested, at his or her peak, and can control most variables.

It is actually possible to do better under these circumstances than when performing under time limits or stress.  Instead of rolling 1d20 for the skill check, roll 1d6 and add the results to 18; use the resultant number (from 19 to 24) as your roll.

Taking 20 does not mean that the character is simply trying until he or she gets it right, nor does it assume that the character fails many times before succeeding.  Instead, the character is making his or her best stab at a single attempt, considering as many variables as possible before proceeding.  This means that the skill attempt takes at least two minutes, and may take considerably longer (at the Game Master’s discretion).

Threshold Checks

It is also possible for the Game Master to set a threshold at which a skill check automatically succeeds.  If a character’s skill check modifier meets the threshold, the character automatically succeeds.  If it does not, either the character automatically fails, or a regular skill check is called for (see below). 

Threshold checks may be active or passive.

An active threshold check (ATC) occurs when the Game Master determines that a player character’s action triggers the skill check.  For example, the Game Master may determine that a particular wall can be climbed by anyone whose Climb skill check modifier is +7 or greater.  This would be noted as “Climb ATC +7”.

Usually, if a character fails to meet an active threshold, he or she may attempt a standard skill check.

A passive threshold check (PTC) occurs when the Game Master determines that a player character need take no special action to trigger the check.  For example, the Game Master may determine that an ostler will feel loyalty to any character whose Diplomacy is +5 or higher.  This would be noted as “Diplomacy PTC +5”. 

Likewise, the Game Master may decide that a particular piece of information was available to anyone with a Knowledge (History) +4 or higher.  This would be a passive threshold check if the player did not need to ask to get the information.

In the event that a character fails to meet the threshold, the Game Master can either determine that the check itself is failed, or that a normal skill check might allow for success.  If the threshold check was a passive threshold check, any normal skill check allowed must be triggered actively by the player character in question.

The DC of the normal skill check need not relate directly to the DC of the threshold check.  This allows the Game Master to set up situations where a certain degree of competence guarantees success, but even a little less competence makes a large difference in the odds of completing a task.

For example, imagine a lock that a professional thief might easily pick, but even a slightly less competent thief might find troublesome.  The Game Master can choose to make this an active threshold check, with a threshold of +6 (the normal professional standard), that requires a DC 20 Theft check from those who fail to meet the threshold. 

This would be noted “Theft ATC +6/DC 20”.

DESIGNER NOTE:  Skill Options

Players and Game Masters have a lot of options for using skills in RCFG.  Don’t worry about which option is “right” for any particular game event.  The “right” option is the one that works….and keeps the game moving.

If one skill use option is being used, and the result of a check makes another option make more sense, the Game Master can switch to the other option.

In all cases, the Game Master has the final say as to which options are applied.

Complex Skill Tests

In some cases, resolving a problem may require a series of skill checks, using different skills, in a more complex way.  This is known as a complex skill test. 

A complex skill test can be devised by the Game Master as part of an encounter, or running through (and affecting!) a series of encounters.  Players can also trigger complex skill tests by switching gears during a complex skill check or a degree of success check.

In general, a complex skill test runs similar to a complex skill check or a degree of success check.  The Game Master either sets a number of checks to be completed and a DC for each (as per a complex skill check) or a Target Number that must be achieved (as per degree of success).

In the case of a complex skill test, though, the characters are not limited to any particular skill.  Rather, they choose what skill should apply narratively, and the Game Master ascribes a bonus or penalty to the check based upon the narrative explanation supplied. 

The Game Master may also apply some specific effects for failure or success based upon the skill used.  If the Game Master is designing a complex skill test as part of an adventure, he or she should also consider what skills are likely to be applied, and determine what the effects and modifiers are appropriate.

The structure of a complex skill test should never trump events within the game narrative.  If the players manage to resolve a problem with some brilliant ploy outside the structure of the complex skill test, the Game Master is encouraged to allow that resolution to stand.

Example 1:  A group of PCs is being chased through a crowded marketplace.  The Game Master is resolving the action using the multiple opposed DS mechanics using the level as modifier rule, when suddenly one of the players decides to pull down some stacked crates into their pursuers’ path. 

This changes the nature of the action from a straight chase to a more complex test.  The Game Master determines that pulling down the crates will use the level as modifier rule (character level + Strength modifier in this case), and the pursuers must make an Acrobatics check to get past the barrier (DC set by the check of the character pulling down the crates).

The character pulling down the crates makes no gains toward meeting the Target Number, but the Game Master determines that any pursuers who fail, the check loses 5 points toward reaching the Target Number each round until the check is passed.

Example 2:  While designing a dungeon adventure, the Game Master creates a room that is sealed by a sliding wall, trapping any characters who enter it.  Within, a whirling series of blades extend from the walls and floor, while the room slowly floods with water.  The characters have to find a way to cross the room to the far door and throw the lever there to reset the trap and escape.

The Game Master determines that crossing the trapped room, requires 5 checks to succeed.  Each check represents 10 feet of movement.  Two checks can be made in a single round, but the second check takes a –4 penalty.  Instead of determining a number of failed checks that causes the entire complex skill test to fail, the Game Master decides to simply apply the effects of failure:

• Any check, such as Acrobatics, used to dodge the blades causes the character 2d6 damage if failed.  DC 12.

• Bludgeoning weapons can attack the blades effectively (AC 15, DR 5, 20 hp); long weapons can be used to jam the blades (AC 25; weapon must be left in place).  Each blade destroyed or jammed adds a +2 to future checks.  Failure by 5 or more exposes the attacker to another blade, which strikes at a +6 bonus to hit for 2d6 damage.

• Each round, 1 foot of water enters the room.  Each foot of water increases the DC of any physical check (except Swim checks) by +2.  Every 2 feet of water, however, decreases the damage done by the blades by 2 points. 

• When there are 3 feet of water in the room, characters can attempt Swim checks to get past the blades.  Swim DCs start at 15, but every additional foot of water grants a +1 bonus to the check. 

• Drowning is a real possibility.  The room is completely filled with water after 10 rounds.

Example 3:  The characters are trying to find a black market in a medium-sized city.  The Game Master has no specific ideas as to what is required, but has an idea of roughly how difficult it should be.  So the Game Master decides to set a complex skill test, where 5 successes are required before 3 failures, with a base DC of 25.  The DC is high because the Game Master determines that a black market that was easy to find would soon be located by the local government and shut down.

The Game Master also decides that, if the players are asking around, if they get three (or more) successes and two failures, they will be approached by thugs, who seek to get them to stop looking.  Obviously, these thugs also offer an opportunity to bypass the complex skill test before the final failure can occur.

The Game Master asks the players to narrate what they are attempting, and what skills they are using.  The characters gain bonuses or penalties to their checks based upon how relevant the Game Master believes their narrated attempts would be to actually accomplishing the task.

R is also for…Rocketships and Rayguns!

One of the things that I am doing with RCFG is ensuring that the game can be played with modern characters, as a planetary romance (or sword-and-planet saga), and even in a post-apocalyptic  framework.  Many modern players like to sharply divide fantasy from interplanetary stories containing rocketships and rayguns.  But this sharp division is not necessarily the best way to go.

Going back to many of the greats, the authors that made myself (and others) love fantasy, I see a lot of crossover between genres.  Robert E. Howard wrote Amulric, a sword-and-planet novel with a modern protagonist.  He writes of Conan encountering an alien in The Tower of the Elephant – an alien which is reminiscent of the sort that appears in so many H. P. Lovecraft stories.  Before either writer, anyone who thrilled to the adventures of John Carter on Mars or Carson on Venus knows well what a good writer (in this case Edgar Rice Burroughs) can do when he crosses genres.  Burrough’s Caspak novels, Pellucidar novels, and Moon Maid cycle offer further examples.

C.S. Lewis’ Narnia stories revolve around the intersection of our world with a fantastic one, from the dawn of that world’s creation to it’s final battle.  Likewise, in Lewis’ Silent Planet cycle, humans encounter the fantastic first on Mars, then on Venus, and finally at home on Earth.  In order to tell these kind of stories in a game, it is necessary to have the means to travel to other worlds, be they other spheres orbiting the same sun, or fantasy lands like Narnia.

In terms of blending magic and fantasy in far future, post-apocalyptic worlds, who can forget to mention the works of Jack Vance?  For those of my generation, Thundarr the Barbarian is another major influence for this kind of world. 

Nor is this concept new to gaming.  The Advanced Dungeons & Dragons 1^st Edition Dungeon Master’s Guide contains guidelines for crossovers with TSR’s Boot Hill and Gamma World games.  Gary Gygax’s module, Expedition to the Barrier Peaks, had adventurers investigate a crashed starship – some of the alien creatures on board have since become standard Dungeons & Dragons monsters!  The 2^nd Edition Spelljammer setting was a (mostly) clever take on mixing fantasy and interplanetary fun.  Ed Greenwood’s Forgotten Realms once had much traffic with our own world – hence they are “forgotten” not by their inhabitants, but by ourselves.

Following the adoption of the Open Gaming License with 3^rd Edition Dungeons & Dragons, crossover material became even more prolific. 

Even if you never have a group of adventurers travel to the moon, or have an infantry squad discover themselves on a strange parallel earth, having rules on psionics, mutations, and classes that capitalize on the same, can be very useful when advancing the odd aboleth or other Lovecraftian horror.

Blending fantasy and science fiction and adventure tales continues to be popular.  It may have started with Mary Shelly’s Frankenstein, but it has a wide range of later application, from the Jeds and Jeddaks of Edgar Rice Burroughs’ Barsoom to the Jedi of Star Wars.  Every steampunk story containing the fantastic, every urban fantasy tale, every horror story set within the context of the modern or a future world, is part of the same long tradition. 

Even J.R.R. Tolkien suggests, in The Hobbit, that the goblins (or orcs, as they are called in The Lord of the Rings) are part of our world, and may be responsible for some of our worst modern weapons, while Gandalf’s flash-and-bang that kills several goblins in the cave in the Misty Mountains is at least suggestive of gunpowder.  Gandalf is, after all, a master of fireworks, and that is mentioned in the very first chapter!  Why?  Because the fantastic must be grounded in – and in contrast to – our everyday “world” of assumptions in order to ring true.

So, if you are wondering why a fantasy game – any fantasy game! – should bother with rules on creating mutants, aliens, or alien technology, that is my answer.  Likewise for rules on allowing interaction between the fantastic and the mundane worlds.

These things are part of the fantasy genre.  They always have been.  They always will be.

R is for Rust Monster

The original rust monster was a rather goofy-looking creature, which legend tells us was inspired by a coin-machine toy.  Having grown up in Wisconsin, and having seen the sort of toy that might have inspired the rust monster first hand, I am in no position to play “Myth Busters” here!

However, the rust monster is sometimes seen as nothing more than a “gotcha” monster.  In fact, I have had discussions in which it was suggested that the rust monster would be better statted up as a “hazard” (ala Wizards of the Coast-style Dungeons & Dragons).  This is a position that I reject utterly.

Rust monsters are not simply mobile hazards that do nothing more than leap out of the dark, allowing the GM to cackle maniacally as the fighter’s armour dissolves into a reddish-brown pile.  No.  They are creatures that can make sense within the fantastic milieus of D&D, and that can add depth to the campaign while adding interest to the dungeon.

Early rust monsters had no effective attacks apart from turning metals into rust, and so were ideal creatures for dwarves to harness with leather and wood, using them to locate rich veins while feeding them with lead and other base metals.  Because rust monsters can turn any metal into rust, even non-ferrous metals.

This last ability may be of interest to sages, wizards, and other folk who craft magic items or spells.  Indeed, the rust monster’s ability to detect metals may be important to the creation of certain wands, potions, and the abilities of some intelligent weapons.

By the 2^nd Edition, rust monsters could defend themselves with a nasty bite.  Thus, those same dwarves now had clubs and/or whips to keep the rust monsters in line.  The dwarves would sometimes make use of bits of jagged glass braided into the leather of their whips, both to impress the rust monsters more, and to use against other creatures of the endless dark.

Of course, the dwarves also kept their rust monsters on long leashes, which they held partially coiled to limit the creature’s movements.  When faced by an enemy, the leash could be extended, so that the enemy would have to deal with the rust monsters while the dwarves sent runners for archers.  And, of course, any opponent deprived of armour and weapons would be quickly met with club and whip.

In early dungeoneering, taking off one’s armour to deal with the rust monster seemed to be an obvious thing to do.  Yet, that assumes that the character will be free to don it when the rust monster is no more.  Indeed, that assumes that no creature is watching, waiting for the character to do just that.  Because other creatures have learned from their encounters with the dwarves, and they do not all mean adventures well! 

It also assumes that the rust monster, like those of early Dungeons & Dragons, has no nasty bite.  As that same early game encouraged creative refereeing, this wasn’t always a safe assumption even then.

The rust monster presented in 4^th Edition is an anaemic version of its previous incarnations, whose ability to rust metals is strangely subject to reversing itself.  Strangely enough, “Essence of 4e Rust Monster” may well be a component in rituals to mend items. 

But it still isn’t just a “gotcha” monster.  Which should come as no surprise to the clever GM, as it never was before.

Clarification (Re: EN World)

In this post, http://www.enworld.org/forum/5661569-post84.html, Plane Sailing is correct that EN World reviewed the situation independent of my decision.  My decision came about as a result of EN World's decision to permanently ban those who caused EN World to review their options and to "recognise that the topic under discussion needs alarm bells all over it in future" (as nedjer put it).  


So, any implication that EN World's decisions have been swayed by my stance is wrong, as far as I can tell.  On the other hand, any implication that my stance is unrelated to EN World's decisions in this case is misleading.


So, from my position, the score is RCK 0, ENW 0, Trolls 224 and still scoring regularly and often.

Some Sidebars from RCFG Skills Section

Working for a Living

Skills like Craft, Perform, and Profession make it possible for characters to earn a living without adventuring. 


While there are no extended rules for this within RCFG, the Game Master is encouraged to look at the rules for what NPCs in various professions make as wages, and reward the PCs accordingly.  Certainly, having a profession (or similar skill) can be used to allay the costs of “down time” between adventures!

That said, the Game Master should also remember that NPCs have an initial advantage over PCs in almost every profession.  This advantage is based on several factors:

· Existing workspace/shop/supplies.

· Existing customer base – a startup business usually makes less than an established one.

· Existing social network – known professionals are usually supported by their community, using a network of friends, family, and business contacts.

In some cases, marketing oneself as a professional requires admission into a guild or other professional association, which may or may not be easily attained.

For this reason, most PCs who both work and adventure will either have to hire an overseer and labourers to build their business while they are away, or will have to hire themselves out as intermittent journeymen.

Busking and begging (usually using the Perform skill) may also be regulated, or subject to guilds, gangs, and assigned spots.  A percentage of the gross take might be payable on a daily basis to a local boss who “owns the corner” where begging takes place.

Overall, these considerations are not to discourage players from considering business ventures for their characters.  Rather, they are offered as a means both to prevent players from assuming that working requires little more thought than a skill roll to generate lucre (in which case, why adventure at all?) and to ground the PCs in the campaign world’s various guilds, criminal gangs, and professional associations (as appropriate).  In addition, it makes it possible for the Game Master to make such contacts available as a form of “treasure” for adventuring!

How long does it take to make a belt buckle?

Craft skills allow characters to make items, generally at half the cost the item is typically sold for.  Usually, the DC for making these items runs between 5 and 20, depending upon the complexity of the item.  Assume a crafting time of 1 day to three months or more, depending (again) upon the complexity of the item.

Some rulesets attempt to give you a formula that you can use to determine exactly how long it takes to craft any given item.  RCFG doesn’t do this; crafting proceeds at the rate that the Game Master says it does.  The Game Master is encouraged to listen to the players, and to attempt to make a reasonable ruling. 

In the long run, though, the Game Master cannot be expected to know how long it takes to make a bow, or a suit of armour, or a belt buckle, and his ruling is final.  If it seems like the crafting process is taking longer than it should, or that it is going incredibly swiftly, then there is some other factor influencing it, like a run of good or bad luck.

Generally speaking, trying to meticulously determine how long it takes to craft anything is more time consuming and difficult than any benefits gained by so doing.

The Importance of Crafts

Craft skills are more important in a pre-industrial society than in a modern society.  Even in the early industrial era, it was imagined that given the time and tools, most modern conveniences could be recreated.  Thus, in Jules Verne’s Mysterious Island, or Mark Twain’s A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court, the industry of knowledgeable craftsmen is rewarded in a primitive environment.

Characters traveling to wild and exotic locations may not always be able to buy or scavenge the equipment that they need.  The ability to make weapons, pottery capable of holding water or grain, shelter, and so on, can make the difference between survival in a primitive milieu, and death.

To people living in a post-industrial society, who have never crafted furniture by hand, or shoes, or worked metal...who have never turned wood, made a cart wheel, fixed a wooden axle, or thatched a roof….how to complete these sorts of tasks can seem “obvious” or “easy”.  There is little conception in modern society of the skill, knowledge, or time required.

Players are advised to read Daniel Defoe’s Robinson Crusoe for some conception of working crafts under primitive circumstances.  The BBC historical series, Tales from the Green Valley, is also highly recommended, and is available on DVD, as are many episodes of the BBC series, Time Team.

Q is for Quipper

Ah, the quipper.  Was there ever a monster to cause more of a love/hate relationship?

When the Advanced Dungeons & Dragons 1st Edition Fiend Folio tome first appeared, it was met with a mixed reaction.  On one hand, it was nice to see some monsters from modules appear in hardcover; on the other hand, some of the monsters seemed a bit...goofy.  On on hand, some of the monsters really seemed to fit in a D&D campaign milieu; on the other hand, some of the monsters seemed a bit more science fictional.  I mean, the Horta from Star Trek and the Martian rats of Edgar Rice Burroughs' John Carter stories both made appearances, albeit with different names and enough changes to prevent legal action

And then there is the quipper.  It's a piranha, except it is found in colder water.  And it's name suggests a bit of a joke.  Hmmm.  Why not just call it a piranha?  And yet....the move to include the piranha - by name or otherwise - in the official D&D canon was a good one.  I have used the quipper in many an adventure back in the day.

The best OGC equivalent that I am aware of is the "blood fish" from Into the Blue (Bastion Press).  Mix with the "creature swarm" template from Green Ronin's Advanced Bestiary, and you have something for characters to truly fear!  I used exactly this combination in Balmorphos, published in Dragon Roots #3.  I think to good effect.  This version of the piranha/blood fish will be the basis for the same creature in the Big Book of Monsters for RCFG.

The quipper.

On one hand, you have to ask yourself, why the funny name?  On the other hand, you have to chuckle with glee when you place them in a dark waterway deep underground.

And that is really so much of the 1st Edition AD&D experience, isn't it?  On one hand, you are wondering why things are as they are written.  On the other hand, when you let go and just enjoy it, it is very much fun indeed.

Related Note to EN World

A post on EN World suggested "Post[ing] random quotes attributed to RC saying random or silly things in reponse to another post, things RC never actually said, but due to his total deletion of all his posts can never be conclusively proved that he did not say."  


Intentionally misquoting someone has been a violation of the Rules since the day I started posting there.  It also might open EN World and the poster(s) in question to legal action.


A report of that post, instead of spurring moderator action, ended in an email to me suggesting that I cannot have it "both ways"; I cannot both leave and expect the Rules to apply.


Interesting times indeed.


By all means, tease away.  Stop your teasing short of intentional libel, though.  Or publicly encouraging actionable behaviour.  And if you are intending on committing libel, be a little smarter than this.  Don't publicly announce it.

(Shameless Plug)

http://poemhammer.blogspot.com/2011/08/flumph-with-waving-tentacles.html