Low Stats as Disadvantages: Dexterity

These disadvantages are both more straightforward than the others, and more harsh. Dexterity is a pretty important thing not to fall short on, if you're an adventurer. With a 3 or 4 disadvantage here - or even a leg injury - there's pretty much no running away and you should invest in some potions that let you flee or hide. Regeneration or healing will be pretty much on the "must do" agenda.

I took minuses to AC from low DEX out of the 52 Pages, because those lead to difficult concepts - like *losing* your penalty when attacked by surprise (what, does your low DEX force you into the path of flying arrows?)

Really, for advantages, Dexterity should also be a bigger thing than it is in D&D, helping you dodge, move, hit in melee and missile, and just about everything else coordinated. I'm committed to the six stat framework but for simulation purposes I think nothing beats TFT/GURPS and its STR/DEX/IQ, seasoned with special advantages to simulate things like Charisma.

Design Aesthetics: Simple, Detailed, Procedural

I'm stuck at a point in the 52 Pages houserules where I'm confronting two tasks that seem unpleasant.

Remember, the One Page Rules idea is about being simple, elegant, or at least enough for each chunk to fit on a Powerpoint slide using 18 point font. I'm coming up against two tasks where I really would prefer to do things differently  in actual play, so it's hard to honor the spirit of the 52.

One is my beloved carousing table. I want to fit a whole set of rules onto about 40% of a page. But it seems just too violent to chop down the many odd occurrences to a set of generic outcomes.

The other is the treasure page. Yes, I have an idea for a really super-simple approach to treasure that goes very well with the 52 Pages aesthetics, but again, I would prefer rolling up treasure on a big ornate multiple d100 table where I can get marten fur capes or octagon-cut chrysoprases or Dust of Sneezing and Choking.

See, there are three ways you can handle game mechanics. You can go Simple, where combat is: each side rolls d6, add modifiers, higher side wins. You can go Detailed, where combat means, each side rolls on a d100 table with modifiers and gets a result of what you do to someone else or what someone else does to you. (that would actually be pretty cool - an all-critical-hits approach to combat). Or you can do what most systems do and go Procedural, where there are complicated interactive rules that give the players the feeling they're making decisions.

Each aesthetic also has a standard.

• The Simple should be really simple - easy access, basic results. It should involve as few rolls, lookups, and choices as possible.
• The Detailed should be really detailed - easy access, complex results. Each table should really brim with spirit, options and creativity.
• The Procedural should, by that standard, make the players using it feel like they are making real choices, or should make the GM using it  feel like the world is making real choices. Difficult access, but complex, interactive and realistic results.

This map also lets us identify a no-man's land, where a procedure is complicated and at the same time estranges players from the feeling of choice. The pinnacle of this: the unplayable hyper-realistic kind of system that has flourished throughout the history of role-playing, where your hit on an opponent unleashes all kinds of weapon shear and armor abrasion and bone fragmentation, but ultimately it's all as boring as watching a pachinko ball cascade down. By the same token, offering too many options can also rob the players of the feeling of choice, as they thrash blindly about in the long period before they gain "system mastery."

How would this apply to treasure rules?

• The Simple would just dictate a random amount of treasure value by level, and what general form it is in.
• The Detailed would be a d100 x d100 table with all kinds of rare goods and magic items in there.
• The Procedural would take "treasure types" to the next level, basing treasure on what a creature would accumulate, or what would be found in the particular ruin; you could almost roll through the history of each room ("the tomb had a golden funeral mask; it was removed by robbers but the hidden sceptre was never found, and then in came the gnolls with five barrels of wine and a sack of silver coins.")

By this standard, the 52 Pages is about half simple and half procedural. And yes, as you'll see soon, that also applies to the treasure rules I'm working on. I'm pretty sure that when I finish the 52, the return of the repressed is going to compel me into blurting forth something really Detailed, like Pergamino Barocco.

Magic-Users As Academic Prophets

As a way to combat the whole prosaic yawn of "any neighborhood padre has the magic healing hands"  in fantasy gaming, I wrote some time ago about the concept of the prophet class. Within any given priesthood only a few individuals are gifted with the vision necessary to perform true miracles. Often, they wash out of the hierarchy because of the uncomfortable truths they speak, and become controversial vagrants. Sometimes, they minister to a band of equally outcast rambling adventurers.

So, as I consider how wizards and the like might fit into my world (we've avoided this so far because there have been no wizard PCs in the main campaign), why not take up a similar idea?

I mean, if there are as many wizards as fighters ... if there are even one tenth or one hundredth as many wizards as fighters ... you are pretty much into the awful awful 2nd edition "let's think this through" world of unseen servant rickshaws with the continual light headlamps and every ship of the line has a Master Magician to cast fireballs and gust of wind.

"This will be on the quiz."

But what would the substrate for the rare and oddball magic-users be; what would they rise out of, in the same way prophets arise from, or sometimes despite, the Church?

Bingo ... academia. Write what you know.

The boundaries of knowledge between magic, craft and science being more fluid in the Middle Ages and Renaissance, it is possible that spellcasting is ...

• an underground intellectual cult based on hidden or forbidden writings
• an intellectual cult of personality, handed down from master to disciple, in the manner of Straussians, Skinnerians or Freudians 
• something that develops from intensive study of a discipline but is hard to actually grasp, so there are periods of history when the intellectual caliber of the academy dips and it starts the self-serving lie that everything about, let's say, anatomy or optics can be got at empirically, and the incantations of necromancy or illusionism are disused or discredited, until someone picks them up again with the right insight
• something the more advanced study of nature and the universe has moved beyond, just as someone doing Mr.Wizard tricks with chemistry would not really be welcome at the conference of the American Chemical Society - your adventuring wizard is more the equivalent of MacGyver or Walter White
• its own discipline, yet dependent on the others in the academy - to really learn how to make spells work you must learn all about the natural and metaphysical world from people specialized in that knowledge - wizards are like medical school students dutifully grinding through organic chemistry so they can go ahead and do surgery or psychiatry

Forget the wizarding academy, all the real action is in the mundane university, with gremlins and homunculi peeking through the ivy.

Hermits of Renown

The holy lands of the Inviolacy have attracted and encouraged a roster of religious eccentrics. Abandoning comfort and hygiene, they dispense wisdom from sylvan retreats. Here are three of the most notable.

THE DENDRITE

Renouncing his name, this venerable fellow set to climb the most secluded oak in the park of the bustling city of Schiecchi. He has been there so many years that he could not leave if he wanted, because his beard has become entangled in the leaves and branches of the tree; his garment is simply this self-same beard, augmented by dead leaves and acorns. Birds and squirrels bring his meager provender. He is a beloved treasure of the town, and especially valued when the affairs so often consummated in the leafy lanes of the park bring unwanted complications.

Advises the laity on: Practical matters, the lovelorn, the casting off of passions.
Weakness: Greatly craves any verbal description of food and drink.

THE TWO HERMITS

Reasoning that solitude is an even more meaningful devotion when practiced in the company of another, these two men - alias "Destra" and "Sinistra" - decided to join forces, sharing the same cavern two miles outside the metropolis of Fanguillia, but refusing to acknowledge each other's existence. They receive visitors in a glade, where they sit on opposite sides of the same stump. Their devotion is reinforced by the braiding together of their beards, which have reached a prodigious length.

A small devotional industry has sprung up around the Two Hermits; pilgrims must pay 2 silver pieces in the chapel of St. Sylvain in the Fanguillia cathedral for an oak leaf badge for the journey, then a consulting fee of 5 silver on arrival, and a further fee of 2 silver to replace their oak leaf with the twig rood indicating successful pilgrimage. Furthermore, a great variety of refreshments, religious figurines, medallions, scapulars, unguents, lamps, candles and candelabra are on sale from a spacious shack outside their grove. Based on these proceeds, their forms avoid any suggestion of haggardness, and their garments, while plain, are never shabby.

Advise the laity on: Visions suggesting what to do next, especially for those who feel they have missed something obvious, with a touch of homespun pragmatism (Destra) or tough love (Sinestra).
Weakness: They have grown to hate each other and will not pass up the opportunity to make some pointed comment, which the other must pretend not to hear.

TITHONUS, THE FORMER ORNAMENT

The Duke of Santilena, having enclosed and ornamented a spacious pleasure garden with flora, wildlife, and picturesque ruins brought in from every corner of the Middle Sea, found lacking from this romantic idyll only a wise old hermit. Being more comfortable with the mystique of faith than its uncomfortable restrictions, he advertised around the town for a desperate young man of the laity who would be contracted to grow out beard and nails, dwell in a hut on the premises, and offer pithy aphorisms to visitors. The cleverest of the applicants, one Neppo, was hired on the spot and took the holy name Tithonus.

This ornamental hermit, however, came to inhabit his role so seriously that he underwent a religious conversion. Subtly tinging his advice with barbed remarks about the Duke's dissolute ways, Tithonus eventually forced a confrontation, from which he emerged victorious. The Duke bequeathed the estate and duchy to Tithonus, and went on a penitent's pilgrimage to the Axis Mundi, from which he never returned.

Tithonus now rules the Duchy in sobriety, chastity, and benevolence, although most of his day is spent in conference with bailiffs and administrators. He has hired the wastrel youngest son of a declining line as an ornamental Duke, to dwell in the palace, excite gossip, and in general furnish the bad example that Tithonus' sermons need.

Advises the laity on: Matters requiring justice and discretion.
Weakness: Is losing his connection to the Almighty with so much hustle and bustle around; feels the need to get away for a while.

Low Stats as Disadvantages: Wisdom

Continuing the series.

If low Intelligence means a visual or cognitive impairment, low Wisdom means an auditory one, or ... well, I've remarked before on how wacky a stat Wisdom is. Sanity? Willpower? Sensitivity? Percaption? The disadvantage approach can handle that though. It likes a multifarious attribute, for sure.

I'm liking more and more, too, the idea that +1 Wisdom is the most bonus you can get at 13 up, but that 15, 16, 17 and 18 Wisdom give benefits. Seems this would be the perfect stat to hand out psionic abilities on. I think an Advantages series at this point is almost inevitable. Not for core 52 Pages, but maybe a supplement, or for the other, painfully inelegant and baroque d20 variant game I have in me.

Oh yeah. Courtney is tearing it up on Hack & Slash with two don't miss series: incredibly various and devious rumors about monster ecologies (so much better than "Science tells us that the roper lays a clucth of 2d6 eggs...") and OSR New Wave creator interviews. Check it out!

One Page Dungeon Contest Reviews

I wanted to tour the highlights - to me - of the other entries in the 2013 One Page Dungeon contest. (Apologies for leaving out the link in my original post.)

This year, entrants are stretching the boundaries further, with many dungeons actually being complete mini-games, and gimmicks a-plenty. I'm even skipping over the couple dozen dungeons I wouldn't mind dropping into my campaign on the fly, and focusing on the ones that get a special piece of my attention and appreciation.

Aaron Frost and Mundi King, Old Guard Tower

The scenario is pretty simple - more a tactical challenge than anything else - but it's the toy factor that sells it. This one lets you cut out and assemble the adventure site as a handsome 3D cutaway model, complete with stand-up monsters.

Alex Cirsova, The Revelry at Pickett Castle

I have a soft spot for this one because it answers the pressing question posed years ago by Mr. Show ... Monster Parties: Fact or Fiction?

C. Martins, Kibhur's Dungeon

Oh my god ... PUZZLES. To progress in the dungeon your players must solve a real Rubik's Cube. Gloriously over-the-top in its genre.

Caelum Roberts, Iron Cloud

Bringing 1980 back with a delirious Metal Hurlant science-fantasy setting, and a zine-press look.

Daniel O'Donnell, Down Among the Dead Men

Wonderfully illustrated map and some great architectural concepts - sea plunder against the ticking clock of the tide.

Eero Tuovinen, Miscegenation of the Ancients

One of the best premises ever. A certain Ark got stranded on the top of a mountain and, trapped behind an angelic seal, the animals bred with each other and created a bizarre mutant menagerie. This one will either get Pat Robertson to convert to D&D, or make his head explode.

Eric Harshbarger, Games People Play

Plain-looking but notable for its twist, which is the kind of thing you are allowed to pull only once in your career as a Game Master. Ever.

Jobe Bittman, Into The Demon Idol

An eye-catching cutaway illustration of an iconic piece of scenery with a small isometric dungeon below; it turns out the all-too-familiar idol has a preposterawesome secret.

Jason Morningstar, La Bassee
Jim McGarva, Dinner at the In-Laws

When the fantastic is commonplace, the mundane is exotic - but very different tones can flavor it. Jim McGarva offers a comical modern-day social adventure complete with its own system. Jason Morningstar gives an enigmatic art-adventure in which Great War veterans revisiting their old battlefield find tangible and intangible memories of the past, leaving unsaid what is real and what the nature of the challenge is.

Jens Thuresson, The Giant's Dollhouse

Just plain weird but strangely compelling. A giant with a magic staff can petrify and un-petrify people at will, and keeps them in cutaway rooms in the side of a mountain. Has the feel of a lost Cugel the Clever episode.

Joe Pruitt, Echoes of Empire

The graphics are pretty basic but Joe Pruitt has hit one of my weaknesses - this one-page adventure is actually an epic fantasy wargame wherein the party must run around a hexmap, gathering allies to resist an invading army.

Kaylee Thumann, Girly Girl Dungeon

Lo, a satire and/or celebration of gender roles. Graphically great and there's also some meat to the jokey encounters.

Leslie J. Furlong, Surface

An interesting, artistic presentation of a solo exploration adventure conducted mostly in the dark, with an abstract map and evocative sensory descriptions.

Ramsey Hong, Something Happened At The Temple Near Glourm

What happened is the fairly usual scenario of evil critters up in the temple, but the graphic design is great, with an almost-isometric perspective and a use of silhouettes that doesn't feel schematic. Also with the nice graphics: LSF, A Stolen Spring; Nick Wedig, Kingfisher.

Roland Volz, The Blackacre Heist

Lots to chew on in this elegantly presented modern scenario, packing multiple plots and possibilities.

Scott Slomiany, Assault on the Goblin Hold

Just wow. A choose your own adventure folding 8-page book that has you interacting with it by cutting off pieces, poking holes in the book, turning and flipping ... Probably the best outside-the box format of the contest.

The Most Unnecessary Magic Item

DUST OF APPEARANCE

Gold value: 1800 gp

Function: Reveals invisible monsters and visual illusions in a 10 foot radius.


5 POUND BAG OF FLOUR

Gold value: $2.50

Function: Reveals invisible monsters and visual illusions in a 10 foot radius. Also, biscuits. Pancakes.

CONCLUSION

Don't breathe in the dust of appearance because it must get you high as nuts.