LotFP Weird Fantasy Skype Game, Anyone?

I've been poring over my new copy of the Lamentations of the Flame Princess WF game (the free rules can be downloaded here) and finding it to be an interesting, quirky, horror-inflected take on OD&D or B/X-like rules.

I have already stolen a number of nifty ideas for house rules in my own Labyrinth Lord tabletop and Skype campaigns. Still I'm interested in seeing how the whole package rolls when played straight.

Anyone else out there interested in playing a Skype game using this rule set?

The nitty gritty:

1. The game will start as a mini-campaign i.e. with a short shelf life of say 3-6 sessions. (If it really rocks maybe we'll extend this.)

2. Play will center around the exploration of a limited sandbox campaign area with Vance, Lovecraftian and dark fantasy mish-mash overtones. (Umm...sound familiar, Hill Cantons players?)

3. Sessions will be at least twice a month, most likely every other week.

4. Play will start around 6-8 pm Central U.S. time on weekdays (more flexible on a weekend).

5. We will use Skype for audio; Dragonsfoot chatrooms for the dice roller, and Dabbleboard for maps. All somewhat luddite-friendly to use.

The Feral Dwarf: New LL or B/X Class

Feral Dwarf

Requirements: CON 9

Prime Requisite: STR

Hit Dice: 1d8

Maximum Level: 12

A new class from my compendium. Special thanks to Scott Moberly as co-creator.

Feral dwarves are the deep-dwelling, untamed, neanderthal-like cousins of the more common dwarf. Their skin ranges from deep tan to light brown, and bright eyes which are almost never blue, with brown, black, or gray hair and ruddy cheeks. They are slightly taller and more wiry than their more domesticated cousins (ranging up to 4'6 and 140 pounds on the average).

Feral dwarves speak dwarvish, gnome, goblin, kobold, orcish, common, and their alignment language, but cannot learn more than two additional languages regardless of their intelligence.

Because of their background as miners and underground dwellers, they can detect by concentration within 10' any grade or slope or new construction (1-4 on a d6), sliding or shifting walls or rooms (1-4), and large stonework-type traps such as pits and dead falls (1-3). They can also detect with concentration depth under ground (1-3). They also have 60 foot infravision.

Because they are unfamiliar with new-fangled civilized weaponry and armor, feral dwarves tend to choose simple weapons such as spears, hammers, axes, clubs, and javelins (though once in civilized environs they can employ any weapon they choose). Because of their unfamiliarity and lack of comfort with heavy armor they can only wear leather, padded, studded leather, hide/fur, scale, or chain armor.

Feral dwarves also receive a +1 to hit orcs, half-orcs, goblins, and hobgoblins, due to an extended racial animosity.

Coming from a living in the remote hills and being somewhat crude in nature, feral dwarves have the ability to throw small boulders effectively in combat . They gain a +1 to hit on this and damage is 1d4 plus any STR modifiers. If they have an advantage in terrain latitude over 20 feet (i.e they are on a hill) they gain +2 to hit and +2 to damage on top of their STR modifier if applicable.

Some feral dwarves specialize in a primitive polished flint mallet. This wicked hammer inflicts 1d4+1 damage and on a roll of a natural 20 can knock its opponent unconscious/stun for 1d6 rounds.

Living on the primitive edge is a hard life, thus feral dwarves gain the ability to forage for food and water in hilly and mountainous environments. At 1st level this ability they can do so successfully is at 30 percent. This improves at 3% per each additional level. They also have the ability to start a fire in any environment without the use of flint and steel at the same levels of success as their foraging skills.

Example: Craggo Uthuk is a third-level feral dwarf. Craggo can successfully scavenge for food and start fires in the Big Rock Candy Mountains at a chance of 36%.

Despite these differences, feral dwarves fight and save on the same tables as the Dwarf race/class.

When a feral dwarf reaches 9th level he becomes a clan chieftain and can attract followers once he has found a suitable cavern.

Optional rule: Feral dwarves do not receive starting money as other characters. Instead they start with a flint mallet, hide/fur armor, and 10-40 gp of simple equipment (food, torches, bedrolls, etc). In addition they start with a small horde of raw gemstones, 1d6 gems worth 10 gp a piece and 1d4 worth 20 gp.

Feral Dwarf Level Progression

Experience	Level	Hit Dice (1d8)
0	1	1
2187	2	2
4375	3	3
8751	4	4
17501	5	5
35001	6	6
70001	7	7
140001	8	8
280001	9	9
400001	10	+3 hp only
540001	11	+6 hp only
660001	12	+9 hp only

Art as Gaming Muse (Part 1)

Back in yonder day, the artwork I found in all those many paper artifacts of old school D&D yumminess meant a good deal more to me than just aesthetic filler.

Sure the printed words would hold a heavy spell, but it was those little line drawing and full cover art pieces that could just blast off little neurons at a mere glance. I often would immediately pull up a piece of graph or notebook paper and just start riffing.

Poring over back issues of Dragon magazine the other day old forgotten memories of campaigns, dungeons, and the like came crashing back. Crazily it was often the small things that would start off things.

Indeed one wee ad for an obscure little town setting, Jonril: Gateway to the Shrunken Lands, tucked away in one corner of a page (that the adult part of me now knows to be the pet campaign of the relatively well-known, if somewhat yawn-producing fantasy novelist Raymond Feist) launched my own first attempt at a homebrew campaign. The sight of those exotic, stylized-looking adventurers watching a caravan cross a narrow little wooden bridge into an inviting town clicked something off in my brain.

Although as a kid I never once laid eyes on this product, my own Jonril quickly took on a life of its own as my first real attempt to do something other than a dungeon. My Jonril became this mysterious, seedy city of merchants, necromancers, and thieves covering a small island in a volcanic lake cauldron. Literally years of adventuring went by without the PCs ever even leaving the confines of the city. Crazy elaborate heists and countless expeditions to the layers and layers of undercity beneath the streets were the order of the day. Good times.

So friends, I'm sure I'm not the only one that had these little golden moments of inspirations. Love to hear your own stories of what piece cranked it up to 11 for you.

And in honor of that kind of riffing I am going to be doing a series of posts on the images that launched a thousand ships for me. Next up is the moody, stylized art from the Rahman's brothers brilliant TSR boardgame Divine Right and corresponding series of Dragon supplementary stories, Minarian Legends.

LL/AEC Compendium of New Player Classes, Variant Rules, and other Fantasy Heartbreaker Garbage

Rules tinkering seems as common as an affliction amongst old school D&D game masters as was the clap amongst the ranks of Napoleon's grumblers. As a ref I have been no stranger myself to this curious urge. Recent exposure to such inspired re-workings as James Raggi's Lamentations of the Flame Princess WFRPG (a mouthful) and JB's B/X Companion has left me with a bad inflamed case of the itchies for sure.
Inappropriate metaphors aside, I have been slowly accumulating a small horde of house rules, player options, variant classes and other crunchy bits from the last two years of play in the Hill Cantons in two cities (and a few countries if you count in my co-conspirators Skype games from Dragonsfoot). In a fit of pro-taskination (slough-off work to avoid the work of finishing an article for a real-world publication) last week I compiled these various bits into a working document called the Hill Cantons Compendium.
Although a good chunk of the main section is likely only of interest to players in the campaign, the appendixes--most notably the three new variant classes for Labyrinth Lord and it's Advanced Edition book-- may be of greater interest to you the faceless hordes of the Internet. The current draft version of the Compendium is available for download here.

Caving into Chaos at the Austin Mini-Con

Day one of the Central Texas Mini-Con was thoroughly enjoyed by this humble (and slightly besotted) author yesterday--who for a refreshing change was not saddled with being DM.

Norm of Troll and Flame graciously ran his extended dance mix version of the Caves of Chaos , the famed dungeon portion of the old chestnut module, B2: Keep on the Borderlands. And an aptly-named dungeon it was for this particular session as little "c" chaos (accompanied by much biergarten ambient noise) seemed to rule the day. Seven players, a number of whose characters were Chaos-lining themselves, kept the DM busily engaged marshaling our somewhat anarchic high-jinks.

Perhaps a bona fide session report (noting Norm's use of fellow Austinite Trollsmyth's death and dismemberment table and other fun bits) will be in order later, but for now some of my pictures of said foray.


Artfully-drawn portrait of Mohagg the Wanderer (and yes, I did rip his name straight from the B1 pre-gen list), my own trident-toting, oily-mustached scalawag of a thief. Though 3d6 in order left him puny, stupid, and lacking all charisma, with a Dex of 16 and four mighty hit points he was a giant among men. Note the seven copper and one silver worth of mighty booty he had managed to lift from the bodies of dastardly Molemen and Kobolds in the first few hours of the game.



The gruff, tribal Molemen chief appoints San Antonian Bradeep's psycho Chaotic dwarf their new "ogre" after the party made quick work of the previous office holder. Unfortunately, the orc-blood-drinking, head-collecting even-more psycho Chaotic magic-user, admirably played by the fellar in the center, ruined our new-found status by throwing a sleep spell at the chief. The Molemen obliged the mage's erratic behavior by duly killing him and placing his head on a pike.

Fortunately, our fearless, young leader, elected for his decisive, experienced hand, shown to the right, navigated us through many a danger such as this. Barely.



Above-mentioned "Chaos mage" responding to being swindled out of a hefty 100 silver pieces by your fair author, who sold him a clerical scroll he found beneath the ogre's stinking bedchamber.

The fighter to his left managed to not only have his original PC die abandoned in a grey ooze-ridden cave, but have his twin brother fall too in a final fight with ape-like orcs. A fight that forced many a roll on the death and dismemberment chart for all of us. Good times in my hometown.

Something We Forget About Gary Gygax...

...namely that he had his moments of really being crankily down on those tinkering with house rules and variants in D&D. A fact that we, the so-called old school, tend to readily gloss over in our rush to embrace a DIY ethic. Re-reading an ancient issue of Dragon magazine (#16, July 1978) yesterday I was surprised how early indeed he was travelling down this warpath.

A few eyebrow raisers:

ON CRITICAL HITS (one of the most common of house rules)

"The “critical hit” or “double damage” on a “to hit” die roll of 20 is particularly offensive to the precepts of D&D...the point must be made that whole game system is perverted, and the game possibly ruined, by the inclusion of “instant death” rules, be they aimed at monsters or characters. In the former case they imbalance the play and move the challenge which has been carefully placed into D&D. In the latter, “instant death” no longer allows participants to use judgement when playing. Certainly some monsters are capable of delivering death at a single stroke, but players know these monsters and can take precautions. If everything that is faced has an excellent chance to kill characters, they will surely die before long. Then the game loses its continuity and appeal, for lasting character identification cannot be developed."

ON WEAPON EXPERTISE (guess a view he ditched when Unearthed Arcana reared its head)

"There are a number of foolish misconceptions which tend to periodically crop up also. Weapons expertise is one. Given the basic assumption that those normally employing weapons are typical of the medieval period, and D&D is plainly stated as a medieval fantasy game, it should follow in the minds of knowledgeable players that any fighting man worth the name made it a point to practice daily with all forms of arms. There was a prejudice against the use of the bow by knights, granted...The truth of the matter with respect to weapon expertise is, I believe, another attempt to move players closer to the “instant death” ability. For those who insist on giving weapons expertise bonuses due to the supposed extra training and ability of the character, I reply: What character could be more familiar and expert with a chosen weapon type than are monsters born and bred to their fangs, claws, hooves, horns, and other body weaponry? Therefore, the monsters must likewise receive weapons expertise bonuses. While this does put part of the system into balance again, it moves player characters closer to situations where they can be killed before they can opt to follow a course of action aimed at extricating themselves. Again, this feature is undesirable and must be discarded."

ON VANCIAN MAGIC--AND THE AMATEUR RPG PRESS IN GENERAL

"Spell point systems are also currently in vogue amongst the fringe group which haunt the pages of “Amateur Press Association” publications. Now APAs are generally beneath contempt, for they typify the lowest form of vanity press. There one finds pages and pages of banal chatter and inept writing from persons incapable of creating anything which is publishable elsewhere...From this morass rose the notion that a spell point system should be inserted into D&D...[The D&D magic system is] inspired by the superb writing of Jack Vance. This “Vancian” magic system works splendidly in the game. If it has any fault, it is towards making characters who are magic-users too powerful. This sort of fault is better corrected within the existing framework of the game — by requiring more time to cast spells, by making magic-users progress more slowly in experience levels. Spell points add nothing to D&D except more complication, more record keeping, more wasted time, and a precept which is totally foreign to the rest of the game."

Beyond enjoying the sheer snarky beauty of this particular rant, I draw two somewhat contradictory lessons from reading this:

1. that those of us monkeying around with the rules shouldn't bow to any infallible authority--even to that of figures we tend to respect. It is your game after all and all the putzing around under the game hood out there is a good and healthy thing. Can I get an amen?

2. That said, one should always keep a sharp eye for the balances that were built into the game at the get go. Thus the seeming weakness and illogical nature of one class (magic users not being able to wield swords is a classic example) may be hardwired into the game for good reasons. Keep an eye out especially for changes that muck up actual play at the table and be clear-minded enough to discard your own "brilliant" ideas when they just simply don't work.

More later next week on how and why we ditched any number of "brilliant" house rules in our campaign.