Flailsnailing the Hill Cantons

I have been missing the lonely, wind-swept hills of my home campaign as of late. Holiday madness and adult life schedules have played merry hell with our face-to-face games. Lacking “quorum” we have had more luck getting together for miniature battles, Conan one-shots, and even Search for the Emperor's Treasure than the actual campaign.

I expect that to change shortly, but to get my fix in I recently opened up the Google+ extra-dimensional gates of the HC and starting running some FLAILSNAILS sessions.

It's been an interesting and useful experience. When you run a long-standing campaign you get comfortable with how things are, after a while some things inevitably shift into cruise control. Parts of the setting drift into the background as they become overly-familiar to both the players and me. The new blood keeps me on my toes.

To date, we have had two late evening sessions in a week's time introducing 10 new players (in three countries) to the massive, undulating Slumbering Ursine Dunes and the town of Marlankh/Maarlinko.

A number of players have been visitors from other planes: an upright Paladin of Mitra (whose patience seems to have been severely tested by the morally-flexible denizens of the HC), a dwarven thief/rat catcher (mistaken as a bearded midget by the locals), and a drunken, booby-dreaming priest from Wessex. Time Bandits-style they fall out of the sky, which seems to not phase locals overly much.

Interestingly, though these are all open-world hands, a number of players have rolled up some indigenous characters under the guidelines of the HC Compendium (yes, Jeremy that is another flogging). A few even indulged me by using my quirky background generator.

The fact that there were no less than three Mountebank characters chosen—and a thief or two--have been rolled up should give you an idea of the moral fiber of the people I play with—perfectly appropriate for the setting. (Peter R. bucked the trend and went with a Lawful and Good mage, albeit with a sinister past.)

The Paladin described his new comrades (full report here) thusly:

“It was strange, the place was odd, and the men I met were of that queer, stealthy persuasion.  At first I trust them not, but, slowly I came to find them amicable fellows; with stout hearts and clean souls.  There was 'Sliper' a most resourceful Expert Locksmith & Listener, the Ever Clever "Gaunilo Mountebank", Oh? and a hedgemage Eva Gorassospiri.  I was told of their need, queer indeed; a Silver COD Piece of some weird and wondrous value or power.”

Mike D. from Sword+1 blog (and Ruins and Ronin fame) finally allowed me to open up the door's on using the Realms of Crawling Chaos LL supplement. Choosing a fish-smelling Sea Blood (doomed to eventually turn into a Deep One at later levels) was pitch perfect allowing me to place his point of origin in my oh-so subtle homage sea-port of Muth.

That's Mike's nifty pictorial account of the exploration of the “Glittering Tower” in the Dunes above, click to enlarge. For accuracy's sake I note that the Great Chair Massacre is not depicted.

That's the report from the HC.

In proper open world fashion the various explorations could possibly the effect the home game—and vice versa. I chuckle and rub my Evil DM hands over the possibilities. Catch over in the pocket universe on a good free evening and perhaps you can take your own turn.

Better Fewer, But Better?

I have been noticing traffic flowing to the HC from Big Purple for several days now. The RPGnet thread that is spawning the page views is—for a refreshing change—near and dear to this blog's heart, posing the question: when did domain-level play drop out of D&D as a major play area?

The various responses are uneven, but interesting. The most interesting dropping (perhaps not surprisingly) from Michael Mornard aka the Old Geezer, one of the most OG of the hobby's pioneering souls having having hit the trifecta as a player in the original Greyhawk, Blackmoor, and Barker's Tekumel campaigns.

I could spend several posts parsing his comments in that thread and linking back to thoughts about Borderlands and domain-level play in general. But one somewhat tangential one stuck out for me. He answers some of the out-loud wondering about what was particular about play groups back then that more readily supported his concept by saying:

“Remember that 'the group is one, solid, and indissoluble' was not a concept. We were all roving adventurers who would band together at times, but the highest form of play was to play solo. So once strongholds were built, one player might be a wizard staying in his tower and sending minions out to gather components for spell research, one might be building a mighty army, one interacting in the political intrigue, etc.”

The FLAILSNAILS experience developing on Google+--an ongoing series of mostly old school D&D dungeoneering linking by my guess a 100 or so players to more than a dozen different campaign worlds--seems to model more and more the open world feel of the big tent original campaigns. Players float in and out in mostly ad hoc combinations between the various campaigns, maps and magical items are bartered between sessions.

While I have been running the hell out of my Hyborian Age, Petal Throne, and Domain Game II campaigns in that pocket universe, until this week I have been merely a player and not a GM of these games. Last week I finally threw my hat in the ring and ran two open world sessions in my home face-to-face campaign in the eponymous Hill Cantons (session report from the foray into the Golden Domed Battle Barge coming later).

All tremendous fun, but I keep thinking about the second part of that middle sentence “the highest form of play was to play solo.” Big tent type of play, lots of players moving between worlds, was part of my own experience of the game even as late as 1981, but more frequently were the near-daily games we ran for several years with small groups.

As our early characters ramped up the power arc more and more there would be these sessions with one player. Back then it would have taken no effort to pull in at least another smallish group, but it was something of a prestige thing. Indeed it was a badge of “making it” as a player to be tough enough to tromp around the Suss Forest, either alone or with a private army of few NPC henchmen and men-at-arms.

And as a DM there was a certain quality of play that I enjoyed about those solo forays. You didn't have the rollicking camaraderie of a group, but you did get this laser-beam focus, a certain deeper intensity of play. And yes, as name-level crept in there was the stronghold building, the wilderness clearing, the army raising, and all the elements—come to think of it they were always in those intense me with the player sessions. Building plans would be drawn, great menaces to the freehold dealt with, mass battles run with small hordes of Heritage and Ral Parthas.

I find myself yearning for that “quality time” again as much as I do the big tent. Two of my current campaigns really lend themselves to it in fact.

Some of my best experiences playing and running Conan/ZeFRS have come with only two players, the system with its focus on high action, swashbuckling like the genre it emulates really lends itself to a smaller cast. And given what raised the question, the Domain Game II is also crying out for at least a session or two of such play (of course, most will still be the bigger "y'all come" sessions.)

Is any feeling this too? Or running or playing in solo games out of choice or necessity that you enjoy? Why so? What do you get out of them (or hope to) then you don't get in the troupe sessions?

The Furious Din of Battle

A battle royale raged over my kitchen table yesterday.

Fear not, it wasn't a domestic squabble, but the first large-scale, non-solo playtest of By This Axe. Two longstanding pillars from the eponymous HC campaign, Desert Scribe and Brad, locked forces to the furious din of clashing lead.

Much was learned and I stayed up to the wee hours cranking out version 0.5. A mini-game for dueling sprang out of it and a general overhaul seemed to fix a number of rough patches (if you ask real nice like and will actually use them drop me an email and I will send you a copy).

Here's the blow by blow of the battle proper.

The action opens with a gratuitous scenario backstory. Pierre and Gaston, lowly miserable extras from Beau Geste, find themselves lost in the whirling Algerian sands outside Fort Zinderneuf. Stumbling through a mysterious bronze gate in the ruins of a cyclopean temple, they find themselves surrounded by untold riches—in another world.

Little do they know, but ranging scouts from two warring lands have noticed the sudden flash of light—and mountain of treasure--in the Temple of Radagast lying in no-man's land. Arriving at dawn to claim the swag, two armies face each other across the field: the fearsome Knights of Bradd and the scurrilous Scarlet Scribes of Set.

Knights of Bradd roster

2 Knight Hero/Leaders

1 Amazon Superhero with Were-Leopard Hero

2 Priests (who add to saves and morale of units from a dice pool)

1 Mage (who use a dice pool to shoot offensive and defensive spells)

1 unit of Knights

1 unit of Squires

2 units of Longbowmen

1 unit of Heavy Infantry

I unit of Medium Hobbit Infantry

Scarlet Scribes of Set roster

3 Hero/Leaders

2 Imams (Priests)

1 Sorcerer (Mage)

1 unit of Giant Snakes (fight as heroes with Tough Hides special ability)

1 unit of Noble Medium Cavalry

1 unit of Nomad Light Cavalry

2 units of Light Spearmen

1 unit of Heavy Crossbowmen

1 unit of Gladiators

The opening moves seem almost decisive, the knights impetuously ride forward and are met by a hail of crossbow bolts. The Scribe rolls extraordinarily well making hits with the entire unit, the Knights roll phenomenally low and they losing a whopping five figures (from a unit of eight). 

Javelins hurled by the nomad light cav further takes half of the squires. (Missile combat is simple, range is checked and a d6 rolled for each shooter. Hits are made on rolls under the figure's fighting capacity number and hit figures roll saves by armor.)

The opening rounds look grim for the knights. Fortunately for Brad, both units survive morale checks (a streak of luck that keeps both decimated units on the table until its bitter end).

Meanwhile on the left flank the amazon and were-leopard supported by the hobbits advance through the tree-chocked ruins. The giant snakes and sorcerer move to stop them.

In subsequent turns, the sorcerer dumps 10 of his available 12 dice from his spell dice pool on the head of the superhero, killing that mighty figure instantly. The snakes (backed by the last two-die spell) make short order of the were-leopard. A few gobbled up hobbits force a morale check, sending the luckless halflings fleeing off the map. The flank side show though does keep the Scribe's most powerful unit out of the main action for the rest of the game.

Back in the center, the remaining knights and squires bravely (perhaps foolhardily) charge into the untouched ranks of the opposing cavalry. (Melee is conducted much in the same way as missile combat with longer weapons striking first in the opening round.)

The swirling melee there will last the entirety of the game costing all but one knight figure. The stubborn squires manage to take no other losses. The Scribe's light nomads flee in terror from the fight leading the nobles to deal with.

That knockdown fight eventually costs the knights all of their priests and two leaders through duels and melee as they keep shoveling in forces to the fight.

Slowly the tide of battle—which was looking like a drubbing for the knights—starts to turn as the longbowmen and heavy infantry come to bear on the Scribe's infantry. As the desertmen's weaker infantry begins to rout it begins to cascade over into other units (units within 6” of a routing unit must make morale checks).

Though their leaders keep riding over and rallying them (you roll under a leader's value), the knights exploit the breakdown in the lines and start making a number of flank attacks. Though it's touch and go for a few turns, inexorably they start to break most of the units on the board.

With more than half of his units, routed the Scribe's is forced to flee the field, leaving the victorious knights to finish off the legionaries and grab the loot. With most of it's elite forces and heroes slain though it is a bitter, pyrrhic victory.

Special thanks to Scottsz for his gifts of statuary and leopards that supplemented my 28mm mixed armies of El Cid-era Andalusians, Hundred Year War medievals, and fantasy flotsam and jetsom.

Duels in By This Axe

Playtesting is not only vital design work, it can be—nay should be--fun.

At least I thought so yesterday with the playtest battle (session report later) of By This Axe I Rule that see-sawed over my kitchen table yesterday. Besides the inevitable clarification, vetting, and streamlining, I came out of the experience with some add-ons: notably a mini-game to simulate more of the flash and dance of the kind of mano-et-mano combat one would associate between Swords & Sorcery heroes.

Posted here in lieu of emailing the myriad folks who have the 0.4 playtest pdf.

Duels

In the Duel Phase, any player's character may challenge any opposing character within 9 inches to personal combat. A character can refuse a challenge, but must suffer the penalties below. A challenging character can also force a duel on a roll of 1, 2, or 3 if both characters are in units in contact.

The first time a leader declines a challenge, he loses all leadership value for that turn only. He may not participate in an attack that turn. The declining leader may neither voluntarily move to a new unit, nor may he rally a unit during that turn. Thereafter, during the game, the declining leader may refuse personal challenges without penalty.

Duels are played in rounds until one (or both) characters are defeated or run away. A character may attempt to flee a duel on a d6 roll of 1, 2, or 3 beginning on the second round.

Each round the player secretly allots dice from his character's dice pool into three maneuver areas: attack, parry, and dirty tricks. Only one die can be allotted to dirty tricks. At least one die must be allotted to attack and parry. All maneuvers are considered simultaneous.

Character	Dice Pool
Hero	4 dice
Superhero	8 dice
Champion	12 dice
Priest, Mage	3 dice
High Priest, Wizard	6 dice

When the round begins each player reveals the number of dice they have in each area.

Dirty tricks are resolved first. On a roll of 1-2 the player's opponent must forfeit two dice from their attack and/or defense pool for the round (3-6 has no effect).

Attack maneuvers come next and the player rolls the allotted dice. Each roll of 1-3 is counted as a hit.

After attacks, all parry dice are rolled. Each result of 1-3 negates a hit from an opponent. If a player rolls more parry successes than incoming hits they are allowed to roll one counterattack die (hit on 1-3, no chance at parry).

Armor saves are conducted as normal for all hits, but with one exception: the +1 modifier for Heroic status is ignored.  

2012: Year of the Hydra

“Turn back, ye dog, the Sun Lord still lives among the Hyperboreans in his three-month exile,” the Pythia snarled as an answer to my beseechments. “But I have brought a fine heifer for the sacrifice,” I retorted.

“Yeah, yeah,” came the cryptic answer from the sibyl as she hurriedly entered her trance, “2012 will be the Year of the Hydra.”

I shuddered as I parsed the meaning of the oracle. “I must ready my ready my plans for the ordeal ahead,” I thought to myself.

Yes, I have been reading entirely too much Mary Renault over the past two weeks, but who am I to deny the voice of a god? Dear reader, I thus posit my Big Kahuna goals for the coming year:

The Hydra Cooperative. I have been quiet the last couple months about the project, in the main because we have been doing some sorting and reorganizing after a number of passionate discussions and debates about the vision and structure of this foul beast.

Long story short is that we will have two “heads of the Hydra” as we trundle into the new year. The first of which will remain the loose, mostly unstructured network of projects under the banner. The second will be a more formal (but democratic) non-profit publishing cooperative. See here for more news as we get closer to that point.

Hill Cantons: Borderlands. Time to let go. No more rewriting, no more finessing and obsessing the big goal is to get that weighty tome of domain-play variants and rules for classic D&D out the door by February 1.

By This Axe I Rule. Thanks to many of you I am starting to get some playtest feedback coming in, better yet I will meet across the field of painted-lead battle with the Desert Scribe in a few short answers. While this will be less of a priority than the back monkey above, I expect to put final touches on it by mid-February.

REH, the game. No title yet, but I have been working on an open content game with some fine folks that will be taking cues from an elegant and fun, if incomplete and somewhat abandoned Swords & Sorcery rpg.

Play More Face to Face. Self-explanatory. The holiday chaos and adult scheduling have played hell with the HC home campaign, I hope to get a more regular rhythm for that in the coming year. Hopefully I will get a chance to get in as many mini, board and other games with my compadres here as I started to do at the end of last year.

Play Broader. One of the great advantages of the Google Plus boom is the opportunity to play all kinds of obscure games. Games I want to play (or replay): Runequest, Small But Vicious Dog, Pendragon, Boot Hill, Top Secret, Hawkmoon, etc. And so I don't look like a total reactionary may be a few of the new boys like Microscope—and what ever weird and wonderful things some of your cooking up out there.

Those are the big ones, undoubtedly more will grow out of the ground as the year rolls on. What's coming in your new year?

The Request Line is Open

Repeat failure has taught me one thing about New Year resolutions: pick out things I am already down the dark road on and say “I am going to do more of that.”

Of course I am a terrible hypocrite, I have already filled up a page with new project ideas (more on that later), but here's one from the heed-my-own-wisdom category. One blog goal for 2011 was to engage readers more directly and honestly, slough off the prejudices of two decades of journalistic business as usual. The success of the various contests, challenges, direct queries, and deliberate provocations has been uneven, but on the whole I am satisfied.

Here is a very direct leap inspired by Zak S's recent query in the G+ ether, a request line. What would you like to see more of here in the Hill Cantons in 2012?

More interviews? If so with who? More (or less) focus on certain game systems? More game tinkering or setting who-ha? More analysis/exploration of the early days of the hobby? More Tekumel? Half-assed literary criticism? Or what?

Leading questions all, feel free to answer, ignore, and definitely, definitely pose anything that strikes your fancy. I welcome the engagement even if, nay especially if it demands I stretch a little. Challenge me, friends.