The Emotions: Disgust

My posting is going to be less frequent over most of the summer as I hit the conference trail, a Powerpoint-spangled stairway to the stars that's already taken me to Limerick and Amsterdam and will end up in Kyoto (and probably, complete exhaustion) after four or so more European venues. At the same time, all this activity makes me think about those magic moments when my scholarship and fandom identities merge.

I mean, when my hosts at a three-day course google me and find my number three hit is as a talking head expert on the indie documentary "True Fan" (I tried to explain the social identity of convention Klingons and stormtroopers) .... and then I end up talking D&D with one of the grad students over beers ... that's got to be telling me something.
There's no doubt that the most interesting emotion my lab studies is disgust. We find that disgust is an irrational emotion that defies our attempts to explain it reasonably. Disgust is also a many-branched emotion. Many different things that we learn by association set it off, and there really is no one way to sum up the kind of perceptions that will and will not cause disgust.

Really, any kind of environment creator - game designer, author, filmmaker, game master - works best with a ready handle on the audience's emotions. One of the easiest to manipulate is disgust. I mean:

This gimmick from the Modern Toilet restaurant chain in Taiwan relies on the inflexibility of disgust. Even though you know you are eating from a clean metal dish in a clean porcelain bowl, the toilet shape brings up all kinds of associations and disgust can't help but happen (worse if you are eating splashy, green-brown curry).

It follows that, while it may be hard to get angry, feel pleasure, or fall in love as your character in a game, disgust more readily pierces through the "Just a game" barrier. We feel disgusted even at blatant simulations of things that make us disgusted.

But does this mean we really get disgusted in character? Or just that we transfer our own revulsions to the setting? I'll explain how to work with this gap next time, when I write about Basic Disgust.

The Greatest Afro-Grindhouse RPG Never Made

   



Not small-press module covers, these are hand-painted posters on flour sack canvas, advertising the offerings of mobile VCR-cinema entrepeneurs in the hinterlands of Ghana. There are hundreds of them in this gallery; I've drawn on Nigerian horror but there are also renditions of Hollywood, Bollywood, and Hong Kong classics - Krull, Beastmaster, and Red Sonja among them. The most disturbing are not for the faint hearted (or work); END OF THE WICKED in particular.

  

Cartilage Heads!

The audience is not guaranteed to understand English, so that may account for all the fantasy and horror titles, with their visual spectacle. Anyway, most of these posters are so amazing you get the sense that seeing the actual movie would be kind of a letdown.

The Gnome as Consolation

I've been thinking about adding a race/class to my Old School Players system that's a consolation for rolling no exceptional, 13+ ability scores. My recent thoughts about magical dabbling and random spellcasting gave rise to this: the Gnome.

Illus. by Arthur Rackham

Gnomes are small, furtive, hairless folk, the descendants of Earth who failed to choose Good (as the dwarves did) or Evil (as the kobolds did). Long ago, they were employed by the great sorcerers of the day as helpers, which may explain why they retain some tradition of magic.

A player may choose the gnome character class only if none of the character's initially rolled ability scores are 13 or greater.

Gnomes' hit die is 1d6, no bonus. They are small, with a maximum move of 9. They have +1 to attack with missile weapons. They have starting equipment as a rogue.

1    Attack +0, Skill points 4, Magic points 1, Mind save 15, Speed save 13, Body save 11, Spell (level 1, see below)
2    Skill points 5, Speed save 12, Magic points 2
3    Attack +1, Skill points 6, Mind save 14, Magic points 3, Spell (level 2)
4    Skill points 7, Body save 10, Speed save 11, Magic points 4
5    Attack +2, Skill points 8, Mind save 13, Magic points 5, Spell (level 3)
6    Skill points 9, Body save 9, Speed save 10, Magic points 6
7    Attack +3, Skill points 10, Mind save 12, Magic points 7, Spell (level 4)

Beyond level 7, gnomes follow the same progression except they do not learn new spells.

Gnomes start with a known magical spell at level 1 that is chosen randomly, or at will if they have 1 or more ability scores at 7 or below*; multiple low scores beyond the first give extra 1st level spells known, rolled at random. To cast a spell, a gnome spends Magic points equal to the spell's level, and rolls d20 adding Intelligence + caster level x2 - spell level x2; a result of 20 or more is a success, otherwise the Magic points are spent without effect. A natural 1 is a critical failure, with negative effects determined by the DM; a natural 20 is a critical success (gnomes occasionally get some random insight from their half-witted approach to magic) and gives some bonus effect; a natural 13 is a mishap, and the gnome ends up successfully casting a different random spell of that level.

The concept of the gnome is to blend a slightly less competent version of the rogue with a dabbler's knack for spellcasting, which is always going to be rather random due to low ability scores. It's not meant to be "balanced" with the other classes but to provide a reason to play a set of mediocre stats in a fun and unique way.

* Think of it this way: their low ability score meant they spent time studying magic instead of doing other things growing up. Yes, this even applies to intelligence ... studying lots of spells instead of taking time to study them well.

Olympians Incognito

A little too familiar? Via OrobosArt

So you want to use the Greco-Roman gods in your campaign. But halfway through, you stop, and check your mental roadmap. "Apollo" leads to moon rockets, Battlestar Galactica and Rocky. "Venus" leads to tennis, Bananarama and the planet, so you go "Aphrodite," but then you start thinking Woody Allen. How do your gods become otherworldly if Zeus was a pro wrestler, Bacchus a Mardi Gras krewe, and Athena a song from The Who's declining years? Not to mention their down-to earth appearances in the adventures of Xena.

You could make up your own names. Or you could take a tip from Gene Wolfe, classical scholar and fantasy author. In the Long Sun series he presents a far-future society that worships machine intelligences who present themselves as Olympian gods but under their lesser-known historical epithets; so, for example, Aphrodite/Venus goes by "Kypris." In the Latro trilogy he goes back to the times of ancient Greece, but the narrator is an amnesiac Latin mercenary who breaks the familiar associations by translating the literal meanings of place and god names; so instead of "Sparta" we have "rope" and "Demeter" becomes the "Earth Mother."

Bellona

My campaign hides Olympians behind obscure epithets and aliases, also drawing on the long string of classical B-list gods and goddesses. For example, as adventurers descend into my main dungeon's cellar level, they see a stele with four faces, each depicting a different deity: Bellona, a B-List Roman goddess of war; Liber, a Roman god who became identified with Dionysus; Egeria, a nymph of fresh water important in Roman myth; and Pomona, a B-List Roman agricultural goddess (who has modern associations of her own, but we're far from California.)

Below is a list of the most evocative Olympian aliases and epithets. Good resources for this are Wikipedia and the terrific classical reference, theoi.com. For more variety, I've added some of the equivalences the Romans drew between their gods and the Etruscan and Celtic pantheons.

Aphrodite (Venus): the Cytherean, Cypris, Urania ("the heavenly"), Pandemos (as indiscriminate lover), "laughter-loving," "foam-born," "mother of desire". Etruscan: Turan.
Apollo: Phoebus (light), Loxias ("the obscure"; prophecy), the Musagete (arts), Acesius (healer), Apotropaeus (warder of evil), Pythios (dragon-slayer), Aphetor (archer). Etruscan: Aplu. Celtic: Belinus, Cunomaglus, Vindonnus.
Ares (Mars): Enyalius, Mamertus, Ultor, Theritas (the brute), "destroyer of men," "stormer of walls." Celtic: Albiorix, Alator, Camulos.
Artemis (Diana): Cynthia, Phoebe, Amarynthia, Aeginaea, Caryatis, "mistress of animals," Lochias (childbirth), Agrotera (countryside). Etruscan: Artumne. Celtic: Arduinna.
Athena: Pallas, Cydonia, Tritogeneia, "grey-eyed," "owl-eyed," Partheneia (virgin), Polias (cities), Phronesis (reasoning), Promachos (first to fight). Celtic: Brigantia, Sulis.
Demeter (Ceres): Thesmophoros ("order-bringer", natural law), Aganippe ("terrible mare"), "fruit-bringer", Chloe ("green"), Agaue (venerable), Chthonia (earth).
Dionysus (Bacchus): Iacchus, Liber, Sabazius, "The Liberator," Melanaigis ("black goatskin"), Lycurgus ("wolf-bane"), Polygethes ("many joys"), Omestes ("eater of raw flesh"), "destroyer of men." Etruscan: Fufluns.
Hades (Pluto): "the unseen," "the wealthy one," Polydegmon ("host to many"), Aidoneus (underworld). Etruscan: Aita.
Hera (Juno): "white-armed," "queen," "cow-eyed," Zygia (marriage), Gamelios (weddings). Etruscan: Uni.
Hermes (Mercury): Argeiphontes, Logios (orator), Psychopompos (guide of the dead), "ready helper," "luckbringer," Mercator (merchant). Etruscan: Turms (as seen in Grognardia). Celtic: Lugus.
Poseidon (Neptune): Soter (savior of mariners), Taureos (bull of the sea), "earthshaker". Etruscan: Nethuns.
Zeus (Jupiter): Ombrios (rain god), Agetor (leader), Panergetos ("all-doing"), Dikephoros ("justice-bringer"), Fulgens (lightning), Tonans (thunder), Optimus Maximus (best and greatest). Etruscan: Tinia. Celtic: Taranis.

The Cleric's Faith II: Radical Idea

FrDave notes, in comments on the last post, that the "randomly working miracle spells" approach was tried and rejected in his campaign.

I'm really intrigued by John L's idea and I want it to be attractive to players, even against this experience and my own nagging intuitions. The meat and bones of the cleric, as I've noted before, is healing. 3rd edition D&D recognized this in a big way by making spell slots usable at any time for cure spells. The message is clear. Healing hit points is the number one job of the cleric. Having it succeed only randomly is disconcerting.

So here's a proposal:

Healing: A sacred magic worker can lay on hands a number of times per day equal to his or her level, for healing of 1d6+level hit points each time, with no success roll needed.

All other miraculous powers may be attempted any number of times per day until they fail - at which point faith runs out and that particular power may not be used at all again that day. The basic mechanic is: roll 2d6, success on 9+, 2 always fails, add 1/2 caster's level rounded down and subtract 1/2 the level/HD of the opposition rounded up. Apply the cleric's Wisdom bonuses as per your system. In classic John L style you can see these as reaction rolls where 9+ is a favorable reaction, or morale rolls where 9+ is broken morale of the opposition. This is really more for memory than mechanical purposes though; the cleric's Charisma does not come into it.

Curing conditions: disease, insanity, injury, sorcerous influences. Use level of the spell's caster, HD of creature originating the condition, or 1/3/6/9 HD for mild/moderate/serious/death. You may rule that repeated attempts by the same cleric on the same condition are not allowed.

Banishing evil: turns unholy creatures and gives an immediate morale check to other evil creatures. Use level of one creature to check, numbers over that turn additional numbers of creatures. Yes, this is a less impressive turning power than normal, but I feel it's balanced when you add on the healing and the upgrading of other at-will powers, and the morale effect.

Providence: provides for basic needs of people who are without those needs through no fault of their own. In other words, it will create or find shelter for a shipwrecked party, and food for a starving multitude in famine, but will not provide for a party who has money to buy things, or has not brought food on a journey through negligence. The "opposition" here is 0 HD for water, 1 HD for food, 3 HD for clothing or small amounts of money, and 5HD for shelter. Add 1 HD per digit of a multitude (10s, 100s, 1000s) provided for above 9.

Safety: I think it's more characteristic of the Judeo-Christian miracle to allow safe passage across traps, hazards and walking in front of monsters than to detect these. At the very least, the rogue/thief/scout/wizard should enjoy a monopoly on intelligence gathering. For "HD" here use dice of damage of hazard, or total hit dice of creatures to be distracted; 7 for immediately lethal effects (walking on water would probably rate a 5). Add 1 HD if more than one person is to pass by, and 1 HD more for each digit of a multitude above 9. Success won't be known until it's attempted!

Of course, other powers may be added on, but I think this short list has the benefit of being fairly well balanced against the magic-user's powers (4 rather situational abilities with a starting 1/3 or so chance of success), and has an impeccable cultural pedigree.

The Cleric's Faith I: Conservative Solution

One way to make the users of sacred magic feel like they are working with freely given miracles of faith is to keep the standard spell list and rules, but have casting in a short time frame (combat round) determined by a petitioning die roll. Here we are assuming that cleric spells are not memorized (cast at will) but that they use a system of levels and slots similar to magic spells. Roll d20 plus the caster's level minus twice the spell's level. On a modified roll of:

1 or less: The spell fails and the caster has spent both the spell's slot, and another of the same or higher level. If another is not available, the caster must atone by making a journey of 1 day/1000 of his or her xp, or a sacrifice of 1/10th xp in coins (or a being equal HD to level) before being able to call on sacred magic again.
2-4: The spell fails, spending the spell's slot.
5-7: The spell fails without spending the slot; may try again next round.
8-18: The spell succeeds, spending the spell's slot.
19-20: The spell succeeds without spending its slot.
21+: The spell succeeds, spending its slot, but with double effect.

If Wisdom is not being used to give the caster extra spells (as it does in my system) then its modifier goes toward this table. You may also apply modifiers due to the nature of the deity; if merciful, +2 if the last attempt that day was a failure and -1 if it was a success; if cruel, -2 for failure and +1 for success.

Being that most sacred spells are supportive, I would also allow a casting in the space of ten minutes without having to roll on this table. This does the least damage to the balance of the cleric/priest class, while still making them feel that they are making a "desperate petition" in the heat of battle.

Next up: A completely different approach based on reaction and morale rolls.

Character Roles Reflect Player Roles

See, the different power mechanics for different character types in old D&D are not a bug to be phased out and homogenized. They are a system of player preference and type as valid as the tank/shooter/controller/buffer system in multiplayer online games and the tabletop systems that emulate them.

via Pixeljoint.com

Fighter: The safe role for the strong and silent type of player. Can attack until the hits run low. Always knows what the right thing to do is: block and attack the bad guys. If you don't have this type of player: Buy men-at-arms and henchmen.

Rogue/Thief: The good role for the impulsive tactical thinker. Using their combat and dungeon abilities requires initiative and coordination, but the abilities are not depleted by use, so the big picture doesn't play a part. If you don't have this type of player: Just play instinctively and roll with the punches, stabs, crushes and KABOOMs. Or throw a chicken down the stairs in front of you.

Wizard/Magic-User: Knowing this role well requires a grasp of a part of the rules - spells - that other classes can just ignore. This is a role best suited for the "specialist" player who enjoys working with complex systems and bending the rules. The player has several big, one-shot effects at his or her disposal, and especially at early levels, having the strategic big picture and knowing when to use each one is crucial. Having a strategist's mind also overcomes the critique that the magic-user's player has nothing to do when the spells run out; this player is likely to take over managing the party's other resources. If you don't have this type of player: Invest in oil, acid, offensive scrolls and potions.

Cleric: The cleric plays a relatively simple role, like the fighter, but supportive rather than offensive. The times to intervene are clear: heal wounded party members; turn undead when they show up. This should appeal to the player who likes to support and hold the party together. If you don't have this type of player: Invest in protection scrolls and healing potions.

In D&D, though, the cleric class partakes of other player roles - an armored blocker like the fighter; a caster of offensive spells like the wizard. This dilutes the class somewhat and may be part of the complaints that it is too bland or overpowered.

One of the reasons I'm eagerly looking forward to further development of the "all cleric spells work like turning" idea on Nine and Thirty Kingdoms: it pushes the cleric to further differentiation from the magic-user. The cleric becomes a manager of uncertainty over time rather than a dispenser of sure-shot one-shots.