Helloween Night

Keeper of the Seven Keys (Part II)

There is a being known as the Wizard of the Red Robe, whose face is forever hidden by his hood. This being is also called the Keeper of the Seven Keys because, having followed the signs beyond the Twilight of the Gods and the creation of new synthetic gods in his home reality, he was able to wrest the Keys from Insania’s dead hand.

But time marches on, even for the Wizard of the Red Robe, and not all of his endeavors have been successes. It was on the World of the Maze That Lies Hidden in Shadow, where the Wizard of the Red Robe sought to unlock the Sea of Kai-Weikath that the Wizard lost, for a time, one of the Seven Keys. It was stolen by a shadow-goblin, who fled into the Maze That Lies Hidden in Shadow. This was in a World thought closed to the shadow-goblins; how the creature arrived there, and how it intends to return to the Halloween World, remain unknown. Some legends tell of an oaken-leafed portal hidden within that World which would allow such passage. Perhaps that is what the shadow-goblin used, and intends to use yet again?

Defeated, but not slain, the Wizard of the Red Robe used the planar step spell to move back to a previous world, one where time ran much faster than that on the World of the Maze That Lies Hidden in Shadow. There the Wizard sought to recruit a company willing to venture into that Maze and recover the lost Key.

What happened next? You will have to tell me, when these events play out at your table. Perhaps the shadow-goblin escapes with the Key, and the Corruptor is finally released. Perhaps it will be as the now-blind seer of visions prophesied, and your PCs will restore the Key to the Wizard, that it may be hidden from the demons of the Halloween World. Or perhaps many worlds will instead become thrall to the throne of the evil Corruptor.

To make the best use of this material, see also this blog post.

If you use this material in your game, I would really love to hear how it goes.

The Maze That Lies Hidden in Shadow

A vast cloud lies over the Maze That Lies Hidden in Shadow, so that down within its twisting walls there is very little light. The Maze itself is a combination of natural canyons carved by super-heated magma, the work of humanoid slaves, and the divine will of Thurkiske, the god of thunder who rules the land beneath the cloud’s dark shadow.

The dogs of war

These creatures are humanoids beholden to Thuriske, who roam the Mazelands, searching for battle and sacrifices to bloody his altars. These creatures usually travel in packs of 3d5, wolf-headed humanoids with burning red eyes, armed with spear and wearing chainmail. These may be considered the least dangerous creatures intruders in the Maze may encounters.

Dogs of war: Init +0; Atk spear +0 melee (1d8) or bite +0 melee (1d3); AC 15; HD 1d6; MV 25’; Act 1d20; SP infravision 60’; SV Fort +2, Ref +1, Will +0; AL C.

The creeping nightmares

These beings are man-like in form, but they creep on all fours like great pale lizards.  They are capable of clinging onto any surface, even ceilings, without difficulty. They attack by lashing with grey tongues, which are able to stretch out to 30’ away. The saliva coating these members causes hallucinations and waking nightmares, reducing the effectiveness of creatures exposed. Each exposure requires a DC 15 Will save, or the target takes a -1d penalty on the dice chain to all rolls for the next 1d6 x 10 minutes (treat as a poison). A target who fails three saves becomes catatonic for 1d5 hours while the narcotic saliva causes terrifying nightmares.

Once victims are subdued, the creeping nightmares can feed. The touch of their pallid fingers causes 1d3 temporary Intelligence and Personality damage. If either is reduced to 0, the victim is slain. Surviving victims must succeed in two DC 10 Fort saves, one for each Intelligence and Personality, or 1 point of damage is permanent in the appropriate ability score.

Creeping nightmare: Init +2; Atk tongue +2 ranged (special) or touch +0 melee (special); AC 12; HD 3d6; MV 30’ or climb 30’; Act 1d20; SP infravision 60’, hallucinatory saliva, Intelligence and Personality drain; SV Fort +3, Ref +3, Will +2; AL C.

The Evil's course

Running through the Maze That Lies Hidden in Shadow is the black river called Evil. Coming within sight of the Evil requires a DC 5 Will save. This save rises to DC 10 if the water is touched, DC 15 if one is submerged (or mostly submerged) in the black water, and DC 25 if any of the water is consumed. Failure means that the victim is thoroughly subsumed by hate, and must attack the nearest creature to the best of the victim’s ability for a number of rounds equal to the amount by which the save was failed, +1d6 rounds.

Each time one of these circumstances recurs, the save must be made again. Thus, if the PCs leave the Evil behind, but come within sight of it again, new saves must be rolled. Creatures native to the Maze appear to be immune to this effect; in reality, they have already succumbed to hatred.

The Man in Black

The purported Master of the Maze and High Priest of Thuriske, the Man in Black wears a black hooded cloak over Victorian evening-wear – black coat and slacks, white cuffs, shirt, and handkerchief. No one can describe the Man’s face. If you are not looking at him directly, what he himself looks like is impossible to remember.

The Man in Black seeks to bring despair to those he encounters, driving them mad, bringing them to drink, overconfidence, and ruin. He can offer many things (depending upon the imagination of the judge), but none of them are truly what they seem to be. Most commonly, he offers a black liquor that can grant a temporary 1d3 bonus to any particular stat, or a one-time +1d5 bonus to any given check. This drink is addictive, and after 1d12 hours, unless another dose is taken, not only does the bonus no longer apply, but the character must succeed in a DC 20 Fort save or take an equal penalty until another dose is consumed. In the case of a skill increase, the penalty applies to all skill checks – including spell checks, if that is how the liquor was used.

After a character has failed three saves, the liquor never gives bonuses again; it is needed simply to offset penalties. At this point, the Man in Black begins to demand evil deeds performed in exchange for his wares. If reduced to 0 hp, restrained, or if he takes a critical hit whose result would be lethal, the Man in Black simply fades away. He is impossible to kill.

Once a PC has become a thrall to the black liquor, the Man in Black can show up anywhere that PC is, including other worlds or planes of existence. The Man in Black avoids public locations, however. Breaking the addiction of the black liquor requires some form of divine quest.

The Man in Black’s touch attacks are a seemingly effortless martial arts. Likewise, his high AC reflects an ability to simply and easily step out of the way of an attack.

On a successful touch attack, roll 1d5 to determine the effect: (1) target is paralyzed 1d3 rounds unless a DC 10 Will save succeeds; (2) target is disarmed unless a DC 10 Fort save succeeds; (3) target is knocked prone unless a DC 10 Reflex save succeeds; (4) target takes 1d5 damage plus roll 1d3 on this chart to determine secondary effect; or (5) target takes 2d5 damage plus roll 1d3 on this chart to determine secondary effect, save DC is increased to 15.

The Man in Black: Init +5; Atk touch attack +5 melee (special); AC 18; HD 3d12; hp 24; MV 30’; Act 2d20; SP infravision 60’, martial arts, addictive liquor, make bargains, immune to mind-affecting; SV Fort +6, Ref +6, Will +6; AL C.

Will 'o' the wisps

These corpse-candles appear as red, green, yellow, or blue lights. They seem to misguide the paths of those who wander in the Mazelands. Each has the power to entice victims into following it; a DC 15 Will save (+1 for each additional will ‘o’ the wisp beyond the first) is required to resist following the corpse lights for 1d3 turns. Their destination is (roll 1d7): (1-2) a group of dogs of war, (3) a creeping nightmare, (4-6) the river Evil, or (7) the Man in Black. When leading others, they do not move faster than is needed to keep ahead.

Will ‘o’ the wisps can defend themselves with energy discharges, up to a range of 30’. They can become invisible or visible at will by using an Action Die. Finally, a will ‘o’ the wisp can exude despair once per day, to a range of 60’. Any creature caught in this radius must succeed in a DC 20 Will save or become overwhelmed with despondency, taking no actions for 1d3 turns unless directly attacked.

Will ‘o’ the wisp: Init +0; Atk energy discharge +3 ranged (1d5+3); AC 15; HD 1d3; MV 60’; Act 1d20; SP infravision 60’, detect the living 250’, entrance, invisibility, exude despair; SV Fort +0, Ref +8, Will +3; AL C.

Spirits of the Kai-Weikath

The Key that the Wizard of the Red Robes lost in this world is said to be the Key to Heaven or the Key to the Mind, which is perhaps the same Key. When it touched the Sea of Kai-Weikath, it released the watery spirits of the dead which were locked therein. These were the ghosts of sailors drowned in that Sea, whose spirits were thereafter corrupted where the river Evil pours into the Kai-Weikath.

The spirits have no power to harm on their own, but their wailing and (powerless) uttered prophesies may unnerve characters that encounter them. The ghosts of the Kai-Weikath can be compelled to answer questions using a consult spirit spell.

Listen to the album here.

Happy Helloween!

Keeper of the Seven Keys (Part I)

There is a being known as the Wizard of the Red Robe, whose face is forever hidden by his hood. This being is also called the Keeper of the Seven Keys because, having followed the signs beyond the Twilight of the Gods and the creation of new synthetic gods in his home reality, he was able to wrest the Keys from Insania’s dead hand.

The Seven Keys

Each of these Seven Keys is a potent talisman capable of opening portals into a multitude of dimensions. Where each Key is used, and what it turns, is as important to determine what world is opened as which Key does the unlocking. An Intelligence check (DC 25) is needed to determine the Key, the place, and even the correct time to open a gate to a particular world. Otherwise, the world the gate opens onto is random, or chosen by the judge.

When they are not in use, the Wizard of the Red Robe keeps the Seven Keys in a pocket dimension to which only he has access. Those who would steal the Keys – and there are many! – must therefore wait their chance until the Keys are conjured into existence upon this plane.

Legend claims that the Seven Keys were created by the Silicone Minds of a Future World, and imbued with their full force with the Twilight of the Gods in that world, when the Silicone Minds ascended in their apotheosis. The Future World became a place of happiness and peace, full of joy, but the Wizard of the Red Robes, seizing the Keys from Insania’s dead hand, was thrust from that world.

The Wizard of the Red Robes

The Wizard of the Red Robes was one of the magio-technicians of the Future World, who wrought the Twilight of the Gods, replacing them with the Silicone Minds. The last of the gods to fall, Insania, was the keeper of the Seven Keys, and she had fallen during an attempt to open a portal to another world. Whether flight or reinforcement motivated her may never be known.

The Wizard of the Red Robes took the Seven Keys from her dead hand, inadvertently falling into the twilight of the Halloween World. There he was long a prisoner of the Corruptor who rules that world and its shadow-goblins. There, the Wizard’s face was taken from him, so that only blackness may be found beneath his hood, unless he should take the guise of another. But the Wizard had managed to conceal the Seven Keys in their pocket dimension. The Corruptor could not take them from him, and could not slay the Wizard while they were hidden, lest they be lost forever.

The Corruptor gave the Wizard of the Red Robe many chances to escape, seemingly, but each was a ruse to trick the Wizard into summoning the Keys that the Corruptor might gain them. As the Wizard refused each potential chance of escape, the Corruptor made them ever more tempting, until the Wizard of the Red Robe was given too much of an opportunity, and the trickster was tricked. The Wizard escaped.

Now the Wizard of the Red Robe spends his time travelling from world to world, pursued by the shadow-goblins of the Corruptor. He seeks forever a way to return to the Future World, but has yet to find a combination of Place, Key, and Time that will allow him beyond the Doomsday of his world and into the Future World that lies beyond it.

The Wizard of the Red Robe is faceless. If his hood were pulled back, nothing would be seen. While his hood is up, all that can be seen is blackness, and the twinkling of distant stars.

Even so, he is capable of wearing another’s face. This face must be cut from the body of a living or dead humanoid being, and it rots over the course of 2d7 days, becoming ever more hideous. The Wizard can see, speak, cast spells, eat, etc., without a face, but he cannot pass easily among the most people, who hate and fear him for his supernatural deformity.

The Wizard of the Red Robe (Future World magio-technician): Init +2; Atk dagger +3 melee (1d4); AC 12; HD 8d4+8; hp ; MV 30’; Act 2d20; SP spells, cannot be compelled to give up the Seven Keys, able to store and retrieve Keys from extradimensional space using one Action Die, faceless, wear faces; SV Fort +4, Ref +5, Will +7; AL L.

Spells (Spell check +11): Cantrip, charm person, comprehend languages, detect magic, magic shield, knock, locate object, shatter, strength, consult spirit, dispel magic, planar step, turn to stone, and wizard sense.

The Halloween World & the Shadow-Goblins

A feverish world suspended between waking and dream, the Halloween World is ruled over by the gleaming-eyed demonic Corruptor of Mankind. Its minions, the shadow-goblins, can slip between worlds with 5 minute’s effort, and thereby seek to perform their Master’s will wherever they go. The shadow-goblins sometimes bring evil knowledge to corrupt the innocent, but more often attempt to force pure-hearted beings to perform evil deeds in a vain attempt to prevent worse evil from befalling.

For instance, it is a joyous task for these creatures to kidnap a child, and then demand some evil deed from its parents in exchange for the child’s safe return. The evil deed accomplishes nothing; the shadow-goblins then bring the child back to the Halloween World as a prize for the Corruptor.

There are worlds that are closed to the shadow-goblins. Why this may be is unknown, but it is true. On such worlds, the Wizard of the Red Robes finds temporary rest, for otherwise the shadow-goblins follow him closely. If they should ever gain the Seven Keys, no world would be safe from their predations. Indeed, the Corruptor itself would be able to leave the Halloween World and traverse the planes.

The shadow-goblins are also unique in that any arcane spell which targets them changes its Mercurial Magic roll, using the wizard’ current Luck modifier, and the new Mercurial effect lasts for 1d7 days. Thus, there is a real element of danger in casting wizard spells at the shadow-goblins. PCs who encounter the Wizard of the Red Robe on friendly terms will certainly be warned that the shadow-goblins which follow him warp magic.

Shadow-goblins: Init +0; Atk filthy sword +1 melee (1d6) or bite +0 melee (1d3); AC 12; HD 1d8; MV 20’; Act 1d20; SP infravision 120’, +5 to sneak and hide, +8 to all saves vs. magic, warp Mercurial Magic, walk between worlds; SV Fort +3, Ref +3, Will +7; AL C.

Listen to the album here.

XP For Gold

A post on Reddit recently asked how to use "XP for Gold" using the DCC rules. Because I thought the question was interesting, and potentially useful to others, I decided to crosspost my answer here. I have edited it a little.

In order to give XP for gold, rather than encounters, it might help to have a sense of the scale and general pacing DCC normally uses. I did an analysis of pacing here.

If the average encounter per adventure is 2 XP, and the average adventure has 14 encounters which the PCs engage in/get XP for, then you can assume

1 adventure (28 XP vs 10 XP needed) = level 1.
2 adventures (56 XP vs 50 XP needed) = level 2.
4 adventures (112 XP vs 110 XP needed) = level 3.
7 adventures (196 XP vs 190 XP needed) = level 4.
11 adventures (308 XP vs 290 XP needed) = level 5.
15 adventures (420 XP vs 410 XP needed) = level 6.
20 adventures (560 XP vs 550 XP needed) = level 7.
26 adventures (728 vs 710 XP needed) = level 8.
32 adventures (896 vs 890 XP needed) = level 9.
39 adventures (1092 vs 1090 XP needed) = level 10.

So, if your goal is to have the same general level of progression, determine how many sessions your group normally requires to finish an adventure, and how large your group is (assuming treasure earned per PC is the marker, not group treasure).

For instance, if you take an average 3 sessions to complete a DCC adventure, then you want each PC to be able to gain 4-5 XP per session. If you have 3 players, 4.5 x 3 = 13.5. Divide the amount of gold you expect the PCs to glean per session by this amount.

For instance, if you guess that the party should gain an average of 500 gp per session, you divide 500 by 13.5 and come up with 37.04. You could easily then say "1 XP per 40 gp" or "1 XP per 50 gp" if you want a slower pace and simpler math.

And so it begins.....

https://tcc-dcc.blogspot.com/2018/10/idol-days-on-don.html

Luck Checks

There are two basic types of Luck checks:

(1) Roll under your Luck score. I usually say "equal to or under". This type of check can be modified by changing the die used along the dice chain - the larger the die, the less likely the roll is to succeed. The smaller the die, the more likely.

(2) Try to meet a target DC. In this case, the check can be modified by the die changing along the dice chain (with larger dice being better). The DC can also be shifted.

Why bother with two methods?

Using method (1), a PC with an 18 Luck succeeds 90% of the time. Using method (2), and a DC of 10, the same PC succeeds by rolling a 7 or better, or 70% of the time. Setting the DC to 15 reduces this to success on a 12 or better, or 45% of the time.

For method (1), the character's actual Luck score matters, so as Luck is used, the odds of success go down immediately. For method (2), only the attribute modifier matters, so while Luck use does affect chance of success, it does so in a more graduated manner.

Each of these has its uses.

Wait, why don't we use both methods with, say, Strength checks?

Good question. Why don't you?

The Tyranny of Session 0

You’ve decided to run a new game. What’s the first thing you do? Get everyone together, talk about what the game is going to be about, and make sure everyone designs their characters to fit not only the theme and the setting, but into a cohesive whole with each other? Maybe you design the campaign milieu by committee?

Why?

In Ye Olde Days, the GM would create a campaign setting, and then put up his shingle. If there was anything unusual about making characters for that setting, you would know upfront.  A notice would usually contain the system being used, and any restriction, such as “AD&D: No elves.” And that would be enough.

In those days, what usually happened was that the GM (most often a DM) created a setting, populated it, and left it open for players to explore. In this way, players created the stories of their characters, and it really was the PCs’ stories, not the DM’s story. Moreover, you didn’t need to know what the world would be like in order to create characters – rangers, for instance, gained bonuses against all “giant class creatures”. They didn’t have to choose a favored enemy.

In some modern systems, the players need to know things about the world even to create characters; in Ye Olden Days, learning about the world was part of actual play.

Now, you may be a fan of Session 0. You may enjoy creating the world together. You may enjoy deciding what story you are going to tell before you experience it through play. If you do enjoy these things, then, by all means, continue to do them. No one’s advice should trump your enjoyment of the game. Not even mine. Maybe especially not mine.

There are some things you should keep in mind, though.

(1) Every detail you add to the world in Session 0 is a detail that can no longer be discovered through play.

If you’ve decided that the world is the giant corpse of a god floating in space, that is now something you already know going into play. Your characters may discover it, and you may pretend to be surprised, but you already know it. You are fooling no one.

If you are, as I am, an aficionado of Goodman Games’ Dungeon Crawl Classics, you will note how the DCC core rules emphasize that the unknown in the world is what grants it mystery, and thereby makes it compelling.  Telling the players details ahead of time, or forcing them to make them up, can certainly be problematic in this regard.

(2) You are, perforce, creating more work for the GM.

Each detail added is a detail that the GM must take into account, and then fit into a cohesive whole. There is simply no way that the GM is going to be an expert in everything the group comes up with. There is likewise no way that the group is going to provide all the details the GM needs.  Yes, this will absolutely stretch the GM in new directions….just keep in mind that those new directions all require work to bring to fruition.

(3) And the game milieu will be weaker as a result.

Let’s say that you play once a month. In Ye Olden Days, while Sarah was running her campaign, I could be devising mine. Having regular contact with the gaming group, I might know that B.A. is into Egyptian mythology, and do enough research to include it in the milieu. I might take six months, a year, or longer whipping things into shape before presenting a ready-to-play game to my friends. Let’s say that I do the same, but cram it into two months, just to make sure that what I am trying to say here is clear.

Now, instead, I have Session 0 in August, and I have to be ready to run in September. Because I don’t know what the group input will be, my planning to this point is going to be pretty sparse. There is simply no way to develop, in one month, what I could have done in two.

Not only has the players’ ability to explore been damaged by having discussed the parameters of the world beforehand, but the world that they have available to them is by necessity smaller, less textured, or both.

(4) You don't need buy-in to the story if you don't try to force the PCs to do what you want.

The setting belongs to the GM. The story belongs to the players.

If the story that the players want to tell is how they destroyed the GM's setting, so be it.

The setting really only belongs to the GM where the players haven't encountered it. Thereafter, it belongs to events at the table. Nothing is sacrosanct. There is nothing the GM must preserve at the expense of the players. If they can find a clever way to bend the world to their will, it must bend.

Wait a minute, chum…What if I want to tell a particular story?

If you are going to run, say, an Adventure Path such as Savage Tide, then Session 0 makes perfect sense. There is no work to do to create the milieu, and you really are trying to get buy-in to a particular game. On the other hand, all Session 0 is doing is providing you a chance to make your sales pitch, and wasting a game day that could have been Session 1 if you had just sent the group an email.

So, what do you recommend then?

Instead of Session 0, take a page from Dungeon Crawl Classics and run Session 0-Level. If Session 0 really is about creating characters that fit into the world and have a reason to adventure together, then the zero-level funnel accomplishes that handily. It also allows you to actually play when you get together….and it opens up exploration of the world through play.

All of the benefits. None of the pitfalls.

Kudos Joseph Goodman, you cunning devil!

Restrictions on PC Races

This came up as part of a Facebook conversation. I have expanded my response a little bit for this blog post:

Now Available in Print and PDF

Danger in the Deep! is now available in print and pdf at RPG Now.

This is listed as a 2nd level adventure, but I hope you will find at least two or three elements in the work that you can use again and again throughout a campaign.

The original working title was Cold Stone and Running Water. When you read it, you will know why.

Mathoms Away!

As I will be busy tonight and tomorrow, I just shipped off the 2018 Birthday Mathom to the dozen individuals who responded to the Mathom announcement post and also sent me an email.

If I somehow missed you, email me and I will check on August 5th. I've tried to be careful about checking the spam folder and setting the emails into a special folder for replies. If I missed you, I am sorry and I will make sure you get what you have earned!

The clock is still ticking! Go back to the original post...I will ship out a Mathom to anyone who meets the requirements by midnight on August 4th 2018!

And this one is it...the Mathom is officially sent to the dustbin of history after this year.