Alexis of Tao of D&D fame published a book, Pete's Garage.
I had intended to finish it three or four weeks ago, but then life happened.
Anyway.
I finished it not five minutes ago. Here's what I think.
This book has two things going against it, right off the bat.
1. Written in first person.
2. More character driven than plot driven.
These things don't matter to some people, I tend to not like books like this.
That said, I would find myself burning through the pages. If nothing else, the book is well written, though the proofreader in me found four? mistakes and as a baptized disciple of the AP Style, I cringed at the use of ellipses.
Mere quibbles, all these.
On a scale of buy, borrow, or burn, this book is a borrower for me, and the reason boils down to personal taste.
What we have is collection of stories surrounding the owner of an old hotel-turned-practice-space-for-musicians. The stories are told as memoirs and occur sequentially. A thin narrative runs through the whole book, that of the narrator reconciling and coming to terms with his past. There are also some supernatural elements tossed in. Sometimes it feels the slightest bit schizophrenic, but it is interesting and the stories never seem to drag.
While reading Pete's Garage, I also finished Salem's Lot and a Dean Koontz book that I can't be bothered to remember. Comparisons are inevitable.
Pete's Garage ranks below the Lot, and worlds ahead of the Koontz book.
Let Alexis write three or four more books, and at the very least, he'll be well on his way to creating something truly awesome.
Wednesday, April 24, 2013
Wednesday, April 17, 2013
Blaarg blaarg blaarg
We are creatures.
So, the previous post still rings true, but also for the last week, I've been working on a Thing that pays Money, but required me to labor for 13ish hours a day, which left little time for blagging.
Also, I've become addicted to Sisters of Mercy. Pity me.
In RPG related bullshit:
The Burning Meadows campaign in which I was a player has wrapped up. This is probably the second or third time that I've actually seen a game all the way to its end. My character survived, as did his companion, the city was saved, and he became a landed knight-errant. Not an oxymoron. Shut up.
In my head, he marries the daughter of a hill tribe chieftain and they have children and adventures.
The scroll-wheel on my mouse just broke. Fuck.
Also, "blagging" is not a typo. Fuck you.
I've been drinking.
I will soon be running a game! *GASP*
This means I must begin Thinking, a dangerous prospect in any age. The players will be in that weird dimension-hopping setting I once described, so I must bend my mind's eye to the Land of Grot where they will begin their exercise in frustration and torment. Because RPG's are just like sex.
So, the previous post still rings true, but also for the last week, I've been working on a Thing that pays Money, but required me to labor for 13ish hours a day, which left little time for blagging.
Also, I've become addicted to Sisters of Mercy. Pity me.
In RPG related bullshit:
The Burning Meadows campaign in which I was a player has wrapped up. This is probably the second or third time that I've actually seen a game all the way to its end. My character survived, as did his companion, the city was saved, and he became a landed knight-errant. Not an oxymoron. Shut up.
In my head, he marries the daughter of a hill tribe chieftain and they have children and adventures.
The scroll-wheel on my mouse just broke. Fuck.
Also, "blagging" is not a typo. Fuck you.
I've been drinking.
I will soon be running a game! *GASP*
This means I must begin Thinking, a dangerous prospect in any age. The players will be in that weird dimension-hopping setting I once described, so I must bend my mind's eye to the Land of Grot where they will begin their exercise in frustration and torment. Because RPG's are just like sex.
Wednesday, April 10, 2013
Nit that anyone reads this...
...but I got laid off at some point in the recent past.
While in theory, this would provide more time than ever to wax poetic about playing pretend, the reality is that the lack of a fixed schedule has made the days and nights run together, time and space become a mystery.
I've been too busy doing nothing to do anything and have literally lost track of time.
Thursday, March 28, 2013
The Invisibile System
This is a post about THAC0.
This system for determining whether or not a player character hits in 2E hinges on two factors: THAC0 and Armor Class.
THAC0 is an acronym for To Hit Armor Class Zero. A character's THAC0 value is the number he must roll on a d20 in order to hit a thing that has an Armor Class of zero. The value of the target's Armor Class is applied to the attack roll of his aggressor.
Attack roll +/- target's armor class +/- any other modifiers = Modified Attack Roll
If Modified Attack roll is equal to or greater than THAC0, the hit succeeds.
Complex in its simplicity, no?
You may be thinking, "Fuck that! Why would I want to do that in my head every time I roll the dice?"
Good news, gentle player, you don't. Such things are for the DM to compute. As a player, you tell the DM what you've rolled (plus any modifiers) and your THAC0. The DM adds in the target's armor class and any other modifiers he may have and lets you know if you hit.
The magic of this is that the player is only acutely aware of improvement through examining results. As opposed to an "active" value, like a bonus or penalty, THAC0 is passive. Every time a player attacks, he is not adding his THAC0 or evenly actively considering it unless the DM asks him for it. If the DM has prepared a reference sheet in advance, he might never ask for it.
It should become apparent, however, to the player that their character is hitting more often as their THAC0 goes down. But because they are not reminded with every swing of their mace that they have incrementally improved, they perceive less of the hard mechanics of the game.
But wait! Isn't the to-hit system in 3E the exact fucking same? You tell the DM what you rolled and he tells you if you hit or not?
Yes and No.
In a general, yes. That's how most games work. The players do a thing and then the DM does his things and tells the players about it. Repeat.
In 3E, that Base Attack Bonus is going up. If not this level, then next level. The player must be constantly aware of the arbitrary rule that represents his improvements in combat. Some feats (I'll do a whole other post on why I hate feats) even use those bonus as bargaining chips and let you redistribute them. (I'm looking at you, power attack.)
The bonus is at the forefront. With THAC0 it is in the background. Almost invisible.
Try it out sometime.
To convert, take the sum of a character's arbitrary to-hit bonuses. Do not factor in strength bonuses, bonuses because of fighting style or particular skill with a particular weapon, only the bonus you receive to your hit roll because you are an X-level Adventurer.
Got the sum total? Great. Subtract it from 20 - There's your THAC0.
For armor class, determine how much better your armor is than no armor. Is it two points better? Is it eleven points better? Whatever. Figure out how much better your armor is than no armor according to your system. Then subtract that from 10. That is your new armor class. Have your DM do likewise for all his shit.
Or just pickup (read "download") a copy of the 2E rules. You know, whatever.
This system for determining whether or not a player character hits in 2E hinges on two factors: THAC0 and Armor Class.
THAC0 is an acronym for To Hit Armor Class Zero. A character's THAC0 value is the number he must roll on a d20 in order to hit a thing that has an Armor Class of zero. The value of the target's Armor Class is applied to the attack roll of his aggressor.
Attack roll +/- target's armor class +/- any other modifiers = Modified Attack Roll
If Modified Attack roll is equal to or greater than THAC0, the hit succeeds.
Complex in its simplicity, no?
You may be thinking, "Fuck that! Why would I want to do that in my head every time I roll the dice?"
Good news, gentle player, you don't. Such things are for the DM to compute. As a player, you tell the DM what you've rolled (plus any modifiers) and your THAC0. The DM adds in the target's armor class and any other modifiers he may have and lets you know if you hit.
The magic of this is that the player is only acutely aware of improvement through examining results. As opposed to an "active" value, like a bonus or penalty, THAC0 is passive. Every time a player attacks, he is not adding his THAC0 or evenly actively considering it unless the DM asks him for it. If the DM has prepared a reference sheet in advance, he might never ask for it.
It should become apparent, however, to the player that their character is hitting more often as their THAC0 goes down. But because they are not reminded with every swing of their mace that they have incrementally improved, they perceive less of the hard mechanics of the game.
But wait! Isn't the to-hit system in 3E the exact fucking same? You tell the DM what you rolled and he tells you if you hit or not?
Yes and No.
In a general, yes. That's how most games work. The players do a thing and then the DM does his things and tells the players about it. Repeat.
In 3E, that Base Attack Bonus is going up. If not this level, then next level. The player must be constantly aware of the arbitrary rule that represents his improvements in combat. Some feats (I'll do a whole other post on why I hate feats) even use those bonus as bargaining chips and let you redistribute them. (I'm looking at you, power attack.)
The bonus is at the forefront. With THAC0 it is in the background. Almost invisible.
Try it out sometime.
To convert, take the sum of a character's arbitrary to-hit bonuses. Do not factor in strength bonuses, bonuses because of fighting style or particular skill with a particular weapon, only the bonus you receive to your hit roll because you are an X-level Adventurer.
Got the sum total? Great. Subtract it from 20 - There's your THAC0.
For armor class, determine how much better your armor is than no armor. Is it two points better? Is it eleven points better? Whatever. Figure out how much better your armor is than no armor according to your system. Then subtract that from 10. That is your new armor class. Have your DM do likewise for all his shit.
Or just pickup (read "download") a copy of the 2E rules. You know, whatever.
Wednesday, March 27, 2013
Friday, March 22, 2013
On 2E
So, Advanced Dungeons and Dragons Second Edition is my game of choice. I can't nail down for sure when I started playing, but my best estimates put it around 1996 or 1997, making me around 12 years old at the time.
My only previous experience had been with MUDs, the great granddaddy to the MMO. I was a fan of Greek myths, Lloyd Alexander, and of course Tolkien.
Living in the Bible Belt, all I knew about Dungeons and Dragons was that it was The Devil. I had no idea what an RPG was, had never seen a die other than a d6, and didn't understand the term "roleplaying".
What I had was an interest in fiction and computer games and some older friends who were curious about said Devil Game.
I was skeptical about playing, but one of the older guys who had already started playing told me that it was basically a computer game, but instead of the computer being the arbiter of the action, another player was. I was told tales of fighting goblins in dank ruins and other adventures and immediately decided that I wanted in.
I rolled up a thief, and played him for a good number of years, along with a host of other rogues, warriors, wizards, and maybe even a cleric or two.
I had been playing for years before the idea of searching for Dungeons and Dragons on the internet ever occurred to me. As I recall, things were pretty sparse. We did find some articles written under the moniker "Uncle Figgy". Those articles were gospel to us. They really taught me how to be both a player and a dungeon master. To this day, I make them required reading for new players.
For the most part, however, I played in a vacuum, disconnected from both the future and the past of Dungeons and Dragons.
I could infer that there were previous editions of the game, but the general understanding among our group was that they were somehow broke and almost unplayable. Relics from a bygone and less enlightened age.
I had no idea about what was happening at TSR, I wouldn't learn about Gygax until years after I had begun playing.
I didn't know that this was the "de-Satanized" version of the game. I didn't know that this was the first version of the game without Gygax.
All I knew was that this was Dungeons and Dragons.
And I loved it.
Why specifically? I'll cover that later. I've rambled on long enough for now.
My only previous experience had been with MUDs, the great granddaddy to the MMO. I was a fan of Greek myths, Lloyd Alexander, and of course Tolkien.
Living in the Bible Belt, all I knew about Dungeons and Dragons was that it was The Devil. I had no idea what an RPG was, had never seen a die other than a d6, and didn't understand the term "roleplaying".
What I had was an interest in fiction and computer games and some older friends who were curious about said Devil Game.
I was skeptical about playing, but one of the older guys who had already started playing told me that it was basically a computer game, but instead of the computer being the arbiter of the action, another player was. I was told tales of fighting goblins in dank ruins and other adventures and immediately decided that I wanted in.
I rolled up a thief, and played him for a good number of years, along with a host of other rogues, warriors, wizards, and maybe even a cleric or two.
I had been playing for years before the idea of searching for Dungeons and Dragons on the internet ever occurred to me. As I recall, things were pretty sparse. We did find some articles written under the moniker "Uncle Figgy". Those articles were gospel to us. They really taught me how to be both a player and a dungeon master. To this day, I make them required reading for new players.
For the most part, however, I played in a vacuum, disconnected from both the future and the past of Dungeons and Dragons.
I could infer that there were previous editions of the game, but the general understanding among our group was that they were somehow broke and almost unplayable. Relics from a bygone and less enlightened age.
I had no idea about what was happening at TSR, I wouldn't learn about Gygax until years after I had begun playing.
I didn't know that this was the "de-Satanized" version of the game. I didn't know that this was the first version of the game without Gygax.
All I knew was that this was Dungeons and Dragons.
And I loved it.
Why specifically? I'll cover that later. I've rambled on long enough for now.
Thursday, March 21, 2013
The Madness of Elvor
Played D&D with my friend Brian, my roommate Jake, and Jake's nephew who is most likely 11 years old, or so. (I don't know how to judge the age of children.)
Brain was DM, Jake was a fighter named Wendel, I was a cleric named Clinton, and Jake's nephew was Elvor, elven sorcerer.
I had to leave right after character creation, and came back mid-game. I only experienced the conclusion of Elvor's madness, but I was told about the rest.
What follows are the events to my best knowledge.
Elvor was raised by bears? in the forest and for 100+ years unsuccessfully dealing with emotional trauma and his emerging magical powers.
At the time of the adventure's beginning, Elvor, wounded from a battle with spiders, wanders into the city-state of Cameron where he is treated for his wounds at the hospital there.
At the same time, Wendel is graduating from the city guard academy and Clinton is taking his vows as a cleric of St. Cuthbert.
King Cameron summons Wendel and Clinton as well as a recent graduate of the magic school for a mission both to celebrate our new careers and show loyalty to him. Through a case of mistaken identity, or something, Elvor is brought before the king and accepts the mission.
The mission is fairly simple: Meet a caravan at a point outside the city and escort it into town. In order to meet the caravan on time, the king suggests taking an ancient tunnel that leads out of town to the main road.
We all accept, Wendel and Clinton on ceremony, and Elvor because... well, who knows why Elvor does anything.
Clinton has other business to take care of, and sets out on his own, pledging to meet up with the his companions at the rendezvous.
Wendel and Elvor start down the old road, and shit got real.
In a battle with spiders and other nasty beasts infesting the tunnel, Elvor would immediately run away and cry, other times becoming furious with anger at seemingly nothing, all the while collecting every bone and scrap of trash he came across. At one point he kicked Wendel. For why? Who can say. But it was hard enough to do actual damage.
With rests included, what should have been a days journey through the tunnel took roughly 13 hours.
Clinton met Wendel and Elvor at the exit to the tunnel, though both were half dead and bleeding.
Clinton asked them what happened, and Wendel gave him a look that at once said, "Don't ask," and "You don't want to know."
At this point, Wendel had to know he was traveling with someone who was obviously unstable. Clinton only got his first inkling when Elvor enthusiastically offered him a bone, a bit of scale mail, and a javelin. All of which he politely declined.
The party ventured forth to find the caravan under attack by orcs, with only one defender still drawing breath. We charged in, and Clinton began his dazzling display of ineptitude with any and all weapons.
Wendel spent the battle slaughtering things, as a good fighter does, all the while enduring the screams of Elvor who kept claiming that certain orcs were "his prey" and that if anyone else attacked or killed them it was unfair. To his credit, Elvor did punch one orc's head in, he also cast some magic.
The battle with the orcs eventually caught the attention of a manticore, which was quickly and valiantly defeated.
In the aftermath, Elvor removed a wing from the dead beast and spent some time waving it around trying to fly while the rest of the party got the wagons ready to go and learned that the entire caravan team had been slaughtered during the 13 hour delay.
The goods seemed to be intact.
It was then that Elvor declared the quest to be over, and set about stabbing the one surviving defender of the caravan team, and he very nearly did kill her before Wendel and Clinton could cut him down and kicked his teeth in.
His dying words? "At least I stopped you from completing your mission..."
Clinton took the on-deaths-door caravan defending and one of the horses and road to town with all haste while Wendel strung the wagons up and made his way to town.
The mission was something of a success. The survivor of the caravan survived. Turns out she was the king's niece. All the goods from the caravan were saved, but everyone else died.
Elvor was certainly crazy. All he sought was chaos, and that's what he got. His emotions, tactics, and alliances all turned on a dime. The only constant was his enthusiasm.
All of us were bewildered and a bit unsettled by the experience. Few times have any of us, as players, ever witnessed a turn like that in a game. Our characters, should they ever adventure again, will most definitely have trust issues and the memories of those wagons full of butchered bodies will no doubt haunt them forever.
Brain was DM, Jake was a fighter named Wendel, I was a cleric named Clinton, and Jake's nephew was Elvor, elven sorcerer.
I had to leave right after character creation, and came back mid-game. I only experienced the conclusion of Elvor's madness, but I was told about the rest.
What follows are the events to my best knowledge.
Elvor was raised by bears? in the forest and for 100+ years unsuccessfully dealing with emotional trauma and his emerging magical powers.
At the time of the adventure's beginning, Elvor, wounded from a battle with spiders, wanders into the city-state of Cameron where he is treated for his wounds at the hospital there.
At the same time, Wendel is graduating from the city guard academy and Clinton is taking his vows as a cleric of St. Cuthbert.
King Cameron summons Wendel and Clinton as well as a recent graduate of the magic school for a mission both to celebrate our new careers and show loyalty to him. Through a case of mistaken identity, or something, Elvor is brought before the king and accepts the mission.
The mission is fairly simple: Meet a caravan at a point outside the city and escort it into town. In order to meet the caravan on time, the king suggests taking an ancient tunnel that leads out of town to the main road.
We all accept, Wendel and Clinton on ceremony, and Elvor because... well, who knows why Elvor does anything.
Clinton has other business to take care of, and sets out on his own, pledging to meet up with the his companions at the rendezvous.
Wendel and Elvor start down the old road, and shit got real.
In a battle with spiders and other nasty beasts infesting the tunnel, Elvor would immediately run away and cry, other times becoming furious with anger at seemingly nothing, all the while collecting every bone and scrap of trash he came across. At one point he kicked Wendel. For why? Who can say. But it was hard enough to do actual damage.
With rests included, what should have been a days journey through the tunnel took roughly 13 hours.
Clinton met Wendel and Elvor at the exit to the tunnel, though both were half dead and bleeding.
Clinton asked them what happened, and Wendel gave him a look that at once said, "Don't ask," and "You don't want to know."
At this point, Wendel had to know he was traveling with someone who was obviously unstable. Clinton only got his first inkling when Elvor enthusiastically offered him a bone, a bit of scale mail, and a javelin. All of which he politely declined.
The party ventured forth to find the caravan under attack by orcs, with only one defender still drawing breath. We charged in, and Clinton began his dazzling display of ineptitude with any and all weapons.
Wendel spent the battle slaughtering things, as a good fighter does, all the while enduring the screams of Elvor who kept claiming that certain orcs were "his prey" and that if anyone else attacked or killed them it was unfair. To his credit, Elvor did punch one orc's head in, he also cast some magic.
The battle with the orcs eventually caught the attention of a manticore, which was quickly and valiantly defeated.
In the aftermath, Elvor removed a wing from the dead beast and spent some time waving it around trying to fly while the rest of the party got the wagons ready to go and learned that the entire caravan team had been slaughtered during the 13 hour delay.
The goods seemed to be intact.
It was then that Elvor declared the quest to be over, and set about stabbing the one surviving defender of the caravan team, and he very nearly did kill her before Wendel and Clinton could cut him down and kicked his teeth in.
His dying words? "At least I stopped you from completing your mission..."
Clinton took the on-deaths-door caravan defending and one of the horses and road to town with all haste while Wendel strung the wagons up and made his way to town.
The mission was something of a success. The survivor of the caravan survived. Turns out she was the king's niece. All the goods from the caravan were saved, but everyone else died.
Elvor was certainly crazy. All he sought was chaos, and that's what he got. His emotions, tactics, and alliances all turned on a dime. The only constant was his enthusiasm.
All of us were bewildered and a bit unsettled by the experience. Few times have any of us, as players, ever witnessed a turn like that in a game. Our characters, should they ever adventure again, will most definitely have trust issues and the memories of those wagons full of butchered bodies will no doubt haunt them forever.
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