Lore and Legends of the Dezzyverse

Author: Dezzy Parrish

O God, Thy Sea is so Great, and My Boat so Small

Space is BIG

One common quirk of science-fiction roleplaying, whether it be Traveller, Star Trek, or Battletech is that the Universe starts to seem rather _small. The characters jump from world to world having adventures but they only stay as long as the adventure lasts. Once the adventure is done, they’re back on their ship and off to another world, light-years distant. The routine of interstellar travel shrinks an impossibly vast universe into a travelogue. Alien worlds, might be strange, but they’re not memorable, the planet of purple-people-eaters fades into the background along with the forest moon of cannibal teddy bears, and the world of cheese.

Timekeeping

One way to keep space feeling big is to keep track of time as it passes. The Universe is not a static place, everything is always in motion. Seasons change, years pass, even the stars themselves grow old and die. It helps to reinforce that your characters are on a voyage if the Universe continues to unfold even as the players hop from system to system. In Traveller, each jump between systems takes a week. Normally this is expressed in downtime, but the important thing for timekeeping is, that as the characters jump from world to world weeks pass as they are isolated in jumpspace.

The Battletech Universe is different, jumps of 30 light years happen in an instant, but the drives require a week to recharge, and it takes days of sublight travel to reach the jump point where the drives can be engaged. Again, this is often considered downtime, but the time still passes.

Even Star Trek, where warp travel doesn’t isolate the ship or it’s crew, the distance between systems is *vast*. It takes days or weeks for a vessel, even traveling hundreds of times the speed of light to transition from one system to the next. As Game Master, take advantage of this, let events develop without the characters needing to be involved. Keep the Universe a dynamic, ever changing place.

Distance and Scale

It’s time for a little Astronomy. Get out your notebooks and calculators. As I am writing this essay, I have just flown across the North American Continent from Washington DC to Sacramento. That trip of 3,000 miles (4800 km) took all day (actually it also took all night, because of an unexpected layover in Phoenix, but that’s a whole different story). One Astronomical Unit (AU) is 150 million km. One Parallax Second (ParSec) is 3.26 light years. To put all of this in scale, for Dezzy to travel to work takes about an hour (I live 30 miles from the office) by car. For Dezzy to cross the country (the US) takes a day (six-ish hours) by jet. If Dezzy was to fly to Mars, it’s a journey of eight months. Flying out to Jupiter’s moon Europa takes around 6 years. If Dezzy wanted to send a message home at light speed, it would be more-or-less immediate from most places on Earth, 1.25 seconds to the moon, 15 minutes to Mars and 35 minutes to Europa.

Why am I throwing all these numbers at you? Well, it’s to illustrate a point. Like Douglas Adams famously said many years ago, “Space is big. You just won’t believe how vastly, hugely, mind-bogglingly big it is. I mean, you may think it’s a long way down the road to the chemist’s, but that’s just peanuts to space.” Traveling between worlds or star systems shouldn’t feel like driving to the next town over or even flying across country. In-system travel should take at least days, if not weeks unless the vessel is moving at 75% of C (light speed) or more. The point of emphasizing distance is to impart the vastness of space to the players.

Because of the enormous distances involved, the setting needs to feel different based on scale. This can be accomplished not only with travel times, but with communication lag.

The Mail Must Go Through

On a planetary/ moon scale, real time communications is fairly straightforward. We experience it today in our decidedly non-science-fiction real world voice and video calls can be made in real time anywhere on the planet where a signal can be reached. The slight delay to lunar orbit can make conversation slow, and possibly awkward, but not impractical. Physical mail can be sent nearly anywhere in a mater of weeks, or even days or hours if extra resources are employed.

On an interplanetary scale, real-time communications are not really possible. Even between nearby planets (assuming both worlds are in their close orbits), electromagnetic communications still take between fifteen minutes to an hour to reach their destination. Conversations start to resemble e-mail or messaging, even with voice or video

Communication with the outer worlds takes hours or days. Relays are needed to even send an electromagnetic signal out that far that can deliver something as dense as voice or video communications. Settings at this scale begin to resemble the telegraph and rail eras of the 19th century. News travels over continental distances, but need to move between telegraph or railroad stations. If the recipient of the message is five days away from the closest station, then all news that recipient receives is at least five days old. Even if the setting is heavily populated, it is still possible and even preferable to present a tangible sense of isolation

On an interstellar scale, unless Faster Than Light travel and communication is employed, news travel at generational speeds. Its simply not possible to maintain a cohesive society at this scale. Without FTL travel, an interstellar setting is a planetary or interplanetary setting. To use an example from fiction, in the novel Three Body Problem (spoilers), the invading fleet from Alpha Centauri (rougly 4.3 light years) takes 300 years to journey to the Sol system. That’s using technology so far advanced beyond what humans have developed that it may as well be magic.

FTL Travel Changes Everything

Interstellar settings with Faster-Than-Light travel flips communications on it’s head. Even in settings where direct communications through subspace, or hyperspace relays are possible, it is often quicker to send a ship from place to place delivering messages. This can be physical media, where a mail ship drops off packages and mail to the starport, but it can also be electronic or digital media where the mail ship simply flies in-system and transmits their messages to their destinations.

This brings an Interstellar setting to resemble the world-spanning empires of the 16th to 19th centuries. Worlds take weeks or months to interact, large interstellar empires and megacorporations lay most of their authority on colonial governors or directors of local headquarters.

There is a brilliant map in Megatraveller that displays how news of Emperor Strephon’s assassination spread throughout the Third Imperium. The common communication routes were the Express Boats that could jump 4 parsecs in a week, which was the limiting factor for the spread of the event. There was a second communication route used by the Imperial government and the Navy that used Couriers that could jump 6 parsecs in a week. Using this map, the GM could see who knew about the assassination, when, and how they would react.

The map also illustrates how much distance the news had to travel. In the setting, Emperor Strephon was assassinated on the 132nd day of the Imperial Year 1116. That news took 200 days to reach Terra, on the rimward fringe of the Imperium. That was from Emergency jumps running a Pony Express route (delivering the mail through a relay of riders and fresh horses) at a pace of around 850 C. That shows that the Third Imperium is really, really vast.

Keep Real-Time Communication Exclusive

The Star Trek and Star Wars settings have tropes where conversations over enormous distances occur. Which works against the scope of the setting. The Enterprise is often shown as the “only ship in the Sector” that can respond to the inciting incident of the episode. The orders are delivered from StarFleet headquarters in a direct Subspace communication. Even though the Enterprise was thousands of light years distant Captain Kirk could have a video chat with the Admiralty, and receive updates while delivering progress reports. Lord Vader has video chats with Emperor Palpatine from the Phone Booth on board his Super Star Destroyer while the Emperor is at the heart of the Empire on Coruscant. This shrinks the universe to planetary scale. It’s no more inconvenient to phone HQ for info than it is to open a Zoom Call to Hong Kong from London.

Both settings retain their sense of scale by showing that these real-time communications as requiring equipment that demands resources that are unavailable to the average citizen. Vader is the Dark Lord of the Sith, he has the biggest and bestest, literally a “Super” Star Destroyer. The Enterprise is the Flagship of the Federation. Subspace and Hyperspace Communications are not available or even a component of adventure sized ships like the characters would be crew of. A small colony carving out a settlement may not have the resources to build such a communications array.

The Star Trek movie Into Darkness and Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith really undermines the scope of their settings (spoilers for both movies). In Into Darkness there’s a scene where “John Harrison” escapes capture on Earth by teleporting to the heart of the Klingon Empire. Using technology explained as “Transwarp Beaming” but it was effectively instant teleportation over hundreds of light years. The Enterprise follows at Warp and arrives close enough to threaten Harrison with a long-range bombardment in an indeterminate, but very short interval. This is a planetary scale event. The distances are just numbers because there is no appreciable time investment.

In your campaigns, if your adventures travel interstellar distance this casually, then alien worlds become little more than exotic cities that can be reached by tourists on vacation. The sense of wonder is erased.

Time is Relative

In settings where Near-Lightspeed and Faster than Light travel is a factor, characters can age faster or slower than the rest of the setting when traveling. This is another way to emphasize the distances involved.

When traveling at Near-Lightspeed, the subject of relativistic speeds age slower. Characters who regularly travel at these velocities start to subjectively move forward in time. They leave one world, travel for a week at relativistic speeds, and when they arrive at their destination, they have only aged a week, but the setting has gone through months of time. The GM needs to juggle three periods of time. The time from the origin passes quickly as the characters are in transit, the time on board ship seems to pass normally, and the time at the destination would be the distance travelled divided by the velocity of the vessel. This allows characters to experience vast spans of time over the course of their career while their physical life spans are unchanged.

At Faster than Light Travel, the relativistic equation starts to flip on it’s head. Especially in settings where Jump Drives crosses the distance instantly, but the vessel has to spend a period of time (usually a week) in hyperspace, or jump space. The characters age, but the setting doesn’t. This starts to age the characters faster than the universe around them.

In Warp-Drive settings, the ships spend travel time in a bubble of real space while the universe outside slows to a standstill. When the ship emerges, the crew, like a Jump Drive crew have aged the time they were at warp, but the universe has only aged a much smaller interval. It takes the Enterprise much, much less time to move through the galaxy at warp than light does.

This allows adventurers the possibility of outrunning the consequences of their actions (for a time). So long as the adventurers can travel faster than the news of what they did, they can arrive in a new system before anyone can know what they’ve done. Of course, the trap here is that the adventurers need to keep moving. At least until the consequence exhausts it’s urgency.

Setting Scale and Campaign Scope

It’s important to apply the scale of your setting to complement the scope of the campaign you wish to run. It is tempting, especially with a game like Traveller with it’s procedurally generated system for creating worlds to create sectors’ worth of star systems, worlds, and moons. It can be fun, dreaming up pocket empires, cities, starports and NPCs to populate them. However, unless you plan to run a series of campaigns over the course of years, developing anything beyond a subsector beforehand is mostly futile. The same goes for system detail. Unless an extended adventure takes place in a single system, most groups of adventurers will never explore any given place beyond the world where the adventure takes place, and even then, the adventurers often only encounter those locations described in the adventure itself.

Point being, unless the adventurers choose to visit a location, they won’t. You as the GM can encourage the adventurers to visit a location, but the ultimate decision is with the players. It’s the GM’s job to seed reasons for the players to want to visit the interesting locations that are designed. That being said, as GM you can present a campaign that happens in a single star system, with a plot similar to the Expanse. That type of campaign will resemble an Interplanetary Setting, with it’s distances and travel/ communication times. Everything outside of the campaign system doesn’t need any real detail. News can arrive as the GM chooses, but it is not anything that needs to be designed beforehand. Don’t make more work for yourself than you must.

There is a balance for a campaign that revolves around travel. For example, in a Battletech campaign where the characters make up a mercenary company, contracting their military service with planetary governments and empires for c-bills, interstellar travel is common. The Company fulfills a Contract on a world, gets paid, and then they’re off to the next contract on the next world. System Detail only needs to be relevant to the current contract, and possibly outlines of the next contracts on offer. This is more of an example of a Interstellar scope on an Interstellar scale. While the campaign may never visit more than a dozen worlds or so, you as the GM can make the setting seem big. That’s part of the appeal. The mercenaries aren’t stuck on just one world or in one system. The conflicts cover hundreds of systems and thousands of light years of distance. Part of the appeal of a campaign like this is adventuring in space.

Deep Space Exploration, like Star Trek is the ultimate expression of Campaign Scope and Setting Scale. Leaving the familiar stars behind to explore… (dare I say?) strange, new worlds. Here, the GM can use time dilation to illustrate how vast the universe is. Traveling from world to world, and revisiting some can show how much time passes on the worlds left behind. Friends who stayed on the outpost the adventurers visited at the beginning of the campaign, can have aged significantly by the time they return and the adventurers have only aged a couple of years. Campaigns out here are stories of isolation and self-sufficiency. Like the crew of a ship far beyond the boundaries of Empire, help is months or years away if it can be reached at all. News from home can be years old. I’d even go so far as to make FTL communication like subspace or hyperspace have significant delays. The goal for campaigns of this sort is, like the crew from Star Trek: Voyager, is to turn the characters’ starship into it’s own little world sailing through the stars.

West Marches, Distant Stars

A gaming group can adopt a setting to run a multiple-campaign game using science fiction. In this framework, GMs develop different areas in the setting, and multiple groups of players can experience adventures travelling between GMs and their areas. Coordination is key, understanding where each group of players are in time and space will inform what is occurring in the universe as it unfolds. Groups that encounter one another can exchange news and even crew. As a campaign like this matures, it becomes epic. Like a science-fiction franchise, the more campaigns that play becomes identifiable as unique expressions of the setting while remaining a part of the greater setting.

Conclusion

I’ve presented, a lot in this essay. Turns out, since space is big, discussing role-playing in a space setting starts to get big as well. All of this doesn’t need to be applied to any given rpg as a whole. Like all science fiction gaming, the freedom to pick and choose what works for you is a part of the fun.

Happy Star Trek Day

September 8, 2025
3051

Battletech’s Lost Year

3049 and 3050 were disastrous years for the Inner Sphere. The Clan Invasion began. The invading, mysterious armies looked and fought like aliens. The peripheral bandit kingdoms and pirate havens fell almost without a fight. What few reports leaked from those first battles showed everything from unknown war machines that violated all principles of known battlemech engineering to jump-capable warships the like hadn’t been seen for 200 years, since the First and Second Succession Wars.

When the invasion washed over the peripheral systems of the Lyran Commonwealth, the Rasalhague Republic and the Draconis Combine proved the worst stories true. The Successor State Houses were neither unified, nor ready for the four coordinated Juggernauts that went from victory to victory, marching steadily towards the heart of the Inner Sphere. By the end of 3050, the Houses of the Inner Sphere had won only a bare handful of battles. All while losing hundreds of systems and nearly the entirety of the Rasalhague Republic, including its capital at Rasalhague.

Radstadt

On the last day of October in 3050, the Elected Prince of Rasalhague, fleeing the loss of the capital system jumped into the Radstadt system, recently conquered by Clan Wolf, and hosting the IlKhan’s flagship, the Dire Wolf. In the chaos that followed, the Elected Prince burned their ship hard to escape, with the Clan scrambling to pursue. The Flying Drakøns, the Elected Prince’s fighter escort bought time for their Prince to escape by engaging in a desperate, suicidal attack on the Dire Wolf, forcing the clan aerospace squadrons to break their pursuit of their prey to defend their IlKhan. A Rasalhague pilot, Tyra Miraborg dove her crippled Shiloh fighter into the bridge of the Dire Wolf, killing IlKhan Leo Showers. She would never know how her sacrifice would change the course of the invasion.

A Year of Peace

The loss of the IlKhan threatened the unity of the invasion. By tradition and culture, the Clans were exorbitantly competitive in all aspects of their society. From the individual to entire Clans. Only the IlKhan had the invested political power to lead a coordinated operation across all the Clans as a whole. Even then, each of the invading Clans would compete and bid against one another for the “honor” of attacking systems. Warriors and Commanders would engage in duels for rank, positions, equipment, or spoils.

The Khans of the invading clans met at Radstadt to decide a way forward, and chose to elect a new Ilkhan. Thus, they called all of the Bloodnamed warriors in the invasion, and returned to the distant systems from which they came from. Leaving behind only second and third line troops to garrison the conquered systems while they elected a new IlKhan. The process would take a full year. That year was 3051.

Peace for the Inner Sphere, Occupation for the Clan

When the elite of the clans left to elect their new IlKhan, they left Provisional Garrison Clusters (PGCs) consisting of the freeborn, the disgraced, and solhama to hold their conquests. 1,000 light-years from their homes, barely supplied, and unsupported, the occupying armies and aerospace forces were spread thin across hundreds of hostile systems. The PGCs were subject to guerilla raids, resistance movements, and insurrections; ugly, violent, all-too-personal conflicts fought in urban centers among civilian populations.

The leaders of the PGCs were placed in an impossible situation. Forced to govern captive populations, maintain order, and defend against revolts or uprisings without losing any captured territory, or resources. They were expected to make do with what they were given, and remain victorious in any and all conflicts with the Inner Sphere. In short, the armies were expected to accomplish the impossible, then hand control back to the bloodnamed warriors upon their return. If successful in their mission, they would not be thanked and only barely acknowledged for doing a job as expected. Anything less than meeting that standard would mean a loss of honor at best, disgrace and reassigned to the labor caste at worst.

Probing Attacks

The armies of the Inner Sphere that opposed the invasion were almost reduced to nothing. Entire Regiments and Brigades had been wiped out as the invading Juggernaut rolled over system after system. When the invasion abruptly paused, The Lyran Commonwealth and Draconis Combine wasted no time in throwing together lance, and company sized reconnaissance forces to test the readiness of the occupiers. Scouting missions, Raids, and Smash-and-Grab operations struck all along the Front. In the first months of 3051, these were irregular formations of shattered units that escaped systems as they fell, or bottom-of-the-barrel mercenary outfits signed on to hasty contracts, even ceremonial units and Solaris VII gladiators were folded or pressed into service. Resistance operations were contacted and given support, propaganda from the Inner Sphere was smuggled into occupied systems, surviving militias were given supplies smuggled in system by networks of criminals who had operated black markets for centuries before the Clans invaded.

Following the Outreach Summit of January 3051, the Lyran Commonwealth, Rasalhauge Republic, and Draconis Combine, coordinating with the Federated Suns, Capellan Confederation and Free Worlds League began to apply increasing pressure to the thinly-spread and poorly supplied Provisional Garrison Clusters the Clans had left behind.

Resistance and Insurgency

As 3051 wore on, the intelligence services of the Inner Sphere polities developed extensive deep-cover networks throughout occupied space. By the time the Clans resumed their offensive in November of 3051, The Inner Sphere had become well-prepared for the Clan threat.

For their part, the clans under the leadership of newly-elected IlKhan Ulric Kerensky were better unified and better able to understand the nations they were invading. But the Clans continued to have a blind spot where their Provisional Garrison Clusters were concerned. Most to the leadership continued to disregard the analysis and opinions of the very people they left behind for a year. Lessons learned by a hard-fought occupation, Intelligence gathered from first-hand sources went unheard because they came from the mouths of the despised.

3051 as a Developing Story

3051 represents a lot of unexplored, untapped potential for story. The Provisional Garrison Clusters occupying the captured worlds have several growth arcs. Colonization, or using a large underclass to expand Imperial ambitions, or being a (very literal) outsider in someone else’s home… or just being a person, used by an impersonal aristocracy, taken far from the place where they grew up, among the people, music, food they are familiar with and dropped somewhere else where everything is alien.

We have had this story, in our very real planet Earth for thousands of years. Through the lens of ridiculous, giant, stompy robots and 8 foot tall genetically engineered super-soldiers, we can tell our own versions of this story. As novels, as campaigns, as scenario packs or as table top roleplaying adventures.

Going all they way back to the Iliad

In college I read a treatment of the Iliad. When the armies of King Agamemnon built their infamous horse and infiltrated the gates of Troy, the ensuing sack was motivated by far more than simple plunder and the rape of a city. The soldiers of Agamemnon had been laying siege for 10 years. Ten years away from home. Ten years across the sea in another land, fighting and dying without contact with their families, or their communities that are, for all intents and purposes, on another planet.

When Troy fell, the soldiers in the army took out ten years of personal sacrifice and frustration on the newly-defenseless citizens of Troy. They took a bloody revenge for their lost decade of life. This perspective is from a story that is some 2,500 years old.

Getting Real for a Moment at the End

As I’m writing this, and when I’ll publish this essay on September 2, 2025, I’m a couple days more than two weeks from my 56th birthday. I have lived my entire life in the U S A. When I was young, the most recent war my parents’ generation lived through was Vietnam. I was 22 in 1991 during the First Gulf War, and though I wasn’t serving in the armed forces, most of my peers were, and they were deployed to Kuwait. One of my very close friends witnessed the “Highway of Death”. He, and my youngest brother were deployed to Iraq during the Second Gulf War in the years following 9/11. My grandparents’ generation fought in World War 2.

Today, right now, there is a terrible war in Gaza, where my country is complicit (if not outright a direct participant) in a Genocide of the Palestinian people. There is another war in Ukraine, where the Russian Federation has been waging an aggressive war of conquest since 2022 and if you count from the annexation of the Crimean Peninsula, you can argue there has been a state of war since 2014.

I believe it’s important to tell our own stories about these subjects of war and struggle from our perspective. It’s the job to re-contextualize the lessons of history through their own lens and pass them forward so the next generation can learn from them. It’s our turn, and if you’re younger than me, it’s your turn too. We will always have war, we’ll have evil violence inflicted on each other. In 25 years, there will be another war in another part of the world and the youth of that time will be told to fight in it.

But, the thing about nationalism in war, it seeks to dehumanize “the enemy”. The people on the other side of the conflict aren’t human, they can’t be. Because it’s soul-destroying to kill another human being, regardless if the cause is justified or not. We must keep reminding ourselves, with each passing year that people are human. Not sub-humans, not “animals” but people. We need to see ourselves in others. That’s called Empathy, and if we lose that trait, then we might as well start dropping atomics on each other until no more tribes remain.

I am sorry/ not sorry for harshing the mood about painting up and playing with toy models of big stompy robots with politics and the real world that we all need to escape from for a couple of hours every weekend. It needed to be said, though. If the vehicle for showing how alike we are is to pretend to be space-cowboys and eight-foot-tall super-soldiers, then buckle up buttercup, we’re going on a trip.

Special Thanks

I’ve been playing Battletech since ’86 or there-abouts. This universe isn’t from my imagination, it’s from the collective brilliance of thousands of minds over more than four decades. The current stewards of this legacy are the fine folks at Catalyst Game Labs. I’m playing in their sandbox

There is also a Battletech Wiki over at sarna.net. This is a heroic work that catalogues the endless details of the Battletech universe, I may not remember when the Outreach Summit happened in Universe, but Sarna does. I appreciate the resource, and encourage you to go give them a look.

I also want to thank the Black Pants Legion for all their hard work. It’s through them that I’ve rediscovered my love for the lore of Battletech. I feel like I’m a teenager again playing Battletech with my friends and dreaming of how awesome it would be to pilot my WHM-6R Warhammer through the battlefields of the 31st Century.

September 2, 2025
Hand Grenades and Fireballs
When your friends are close enough to get singed

From it’s wargaming roots, D&D has allowed Area of Effect attacks to split fighters in melee with one another. The phrase “I cast the fireball to hit the monster but not my friends” has been around since the beginning. Precisely measuring out squares or inches on a battle-mat to include the monsters and not the characters is a refined skill for grid-tacticians everywhere.

I’ve always hated it. It slows combat to a crawl as players agonize over where the center of their Fireball, or their Cone of Cold, or Entangle Spell should be to get the most enemies and no party members.

For me, this also breaks immersion. The splitting of combattants in melee assumes that two fighters stand still until they move to a new position. Bashing away at one another like a pair of Rock-em Sock-em Robots, anchored to the spot. This is not how fighting happens. Look at MMA fights, or boxing matches, wrestling (both intramural and pro), or even a football play or rugby scrum. Ain’t no one standing still long enough to precisely drop a 20 foot radius ball of fire so one guy gets burned ant the other doesn’t. All fighters in a melee are in constant motion, often grappling or piled up on the ground.

I use the following House Rule in my games with regards to what happens when a spellcaster tries to put the edge of an AoE spell between two fighters in melee with one another.

Area of Effect Attacks into Melee
- Anyone who is in melee combat is affected by any AoE that would affect any combatant in that combat in that round. i.e – a spellcaster is not able to position an AoE effect in such a way that one combatant in a melee is affected while others are not. It’s either everyone in the combat or no one in the combat.
- There is a “fringe zone” around the edge of an AoE that extends outside the limit of the AoE. Anyone within the fringe (a 5 foot (1.5 meter) border) who is also in melee combat with someone in the AoE is still affected, but in the instance of where a Saving Throw is necessary, the targets in this fringe zone have Advantage to that Saving Throw.
Example: We have three potential targets of a fireball.
Target 1 is the intended target of the spell and is within the AOE. Target 1 is affected as normal and makes a Saving Throw as per the rules.
Target 2 is in the fringe zone and is in melee with Target 1. Target 2 is affected, but has Advantage to their Saving Throw.
Target 3 is in the fringe zone and is not in melee with either Target 1 or Target 2. They are not affected by the spell.
- If all combatants are in the fringe zone of an AoE, but none are in the AoE itself, no one in the combat is affected by the spell.
- If a target is in the fringe zone but is attacking with a weapon that has the reach quality (like a Halberd), then the target is not affected by the AoE.
Example #2: Same three potential targets of the fireballThe circumstances are the same, except Target 3 is outside the fringe zone, but is in melee combat with Target 2. In this case, Target 3is considered in the fringe zone.

Example #3: as the previous example but with the inclusion of Target 4who is outside the fringe zone. If Target 4is in melee combat with Target 3, Target 4is considered outsidethe fringe zone. If an AoE spell has no Saving Throw (like SLEEP) then anyone affected by the spell is affected normally, whether or not they are in the finge zone. If an AoE has a Magic Attack Roll, and not a Saving Throw anyone affected by the fringe zone has a +5 Bonus to their Armor Class.
August 26, 2025
Failing Forward

Making Failure less Frustrating

There are nights when the dice just hate everyone at the table. Except the DM. Players can’t roll above a 6 and their characters can’t accomplish even the simplest task. Nothing happens and the characters are stuck. The only door blocking their path can’t be opened, the speed-bump combat becomes a slog of swing-and-a-miss, the stream, easily crossed, ends up washing the whole party away. The first time these things happen, it’s kinda funny, “Remember that goblin that no one could hit and we had to just run away?”. But over the course of a game session it looses it’s charm, “Failed AGAIN? I have a plus 12 to the roll and I can’t roll higher than 3! @&#! this dungeon!

Failing forward helps with this. The basic principle is this. Your character succeeds in their roll, but if they fail to score higher than the Target Number, the character suffers a consequence. The classic example of this is “you force the door open, but make such a racket that anyone within a hundred feet hears your entry.” Or, “You knife the guard, but, as he falls, he slaps the panic button at their station” characters can progress, but there’s an added challenge.

Let the Player Choose

Often when a character fails forward, it helps engagement to ask the player what the consequence should be. This helps give the player a hand in the fate of their character, and gives the Game Master a clue as to what the player is expecting from the adventure. The player should express their character’s consequence as briefly as they can. The consequence should be proportional to the degree of failure, and the consequence should never be more effective than success.

The Game Master could alternatively let the player group choose. This helps to avoid putting a player, who might not be comfortable improvising like this, on the spot. The final decision on consequence needs to have the consent of the character’s player, and approved by the Game Master. This encourages everyone at the table to remain engaged with the game as it’s being played.

Keep it Proportional

As mentioned, failing forward should never be a better result than success. Failing forward progresses the adventure at a cost. If the failure is slight, or the task relatively minor, failing forward should apply slight consequences. If the failure is great, or the task critical, failing forward should extract a much greater price.

The goal here is to allow a path forward with a cost. Some of the build up of narrative drama grows from dwindling resources. Dropping your character’s rations down a crevasse or breaking your lantern can be just as tense as loosing 2d10 hit points.

A Brief Word About Combat

I’m not a big fan of brushing off damage as a fail forward. Just having a minimum rolled damage, or half-damage result tends to throw off the balance of monster stats in Dungeons and Dragons. Furthermore, it is not any less frustrating and it doesn’t change anything except to continue to whittle down the adversaries’ hit points. Again I’d fail forward, allowing say a hit on the target, but the character hurts themselves for minimum damage, or they loose some ammunition. Or they don’t do damage but gain a cumulative +1 bonus to hit each time they miss until they do hit. Maybe they do damage, but the GM gets to move their character 5 feet (roughly 1.5 meters) maybe placing the character in a less advantageous position.

My point here is that combat, whether you employ failing forward or not, should be dynamic, even if you’re not playing on a battlemap. Very little is less exciting than endlessly whittling away hit points from one another’s pile. But, that is a whole ‘nother essay.

Things That Should Not Fail Forward

Failing forward is not appropriate for all situations. Saving Throws, Death Saves, All-or-Nohing tasks are but a few. With these situations, one either succeeds, or fails and suffers the consequences. Also, NPCs and adversaries should never fail forward. The GM shouldn’t ever be frustrated by the Players’ Characters’ success in the adventure. TTRPGs aren’t adversarially competitive games (even Call of Cthulhu!). Or at least they aren’t any more.

Remember, the Game Master’s job is to provide challenges to the players who resolve them through their characters. TTRPGs have evolved a long way from it’s wargaming roots. Even if you’re not “telling a story” with your adventure, you are engaging in drama. The purpose, is to have fun, not slog away under a series of cold dice rolls.

August 19, 2025
A City of Miseries

Arjenvís; part 1

Somewhere within the DezzyVerse, the city of Arjenvís is a world unto itself. No one travels to Arjenvís, no one seeks it out. For Arjenvís is alive, and it hungers for mortals and their souls. Arjenvís draws their victims in through dreams, steals them away when they are wandering lost, takes them from the alleys and streets and tunnels.

Founding

Arjenvís was built on the Zyle Wednye cape at a slow bend in the Erixahn river, where the Nozca Kreft empties. The cape rises to a thousand feet above the river. A commanding point that could control the river from the bend all the way to the sea.

The Zyle Wednye ridge held another treasure that would make Arjenvís grow into a metropolis of 125,000 souls at it’s peak. Wegnvia Coal burned hotter and longer than any other feul known. The Zyle Wednye ridge was rich in it. Mining coal built the city into a powerhouse. The Wliajenya mine carved endless tunnels below the ridge, a black maze of stifling heat, fumes and coal dust.

Factories, mills and workhouses grew within the city to build it’s population. The workhouses especially, prisons really, fed countless lives to the mine to dig Wegnvia Coal. The hunger for more bodies to work the mine developed a brisk trade in the commodity of people. The aristocracy of Arjenvís, the Vlatza who ruled the city, the Boyars who governed it’s 13 canton, the Arzpralak and Praladts of the Vyara Zabor Church bought and sold the undesired and desperate from kingdoms and realms everywhere that the Wegnvia Coal was demanded.

The city became prosperous and wealthy above, and an industrial nightmare of suffering below. The excesses and debauchery of the aristocracy, grown wealthy beyond the dreams of avarice, the desperate poverty of the smallfolk crowding the slums of the Brzek Kreft, serfs working the fields of “the shift” on the low shore of the Erixahn, and the suffering and hopelessness of the indentured laborers in the depths of the Wliajenya mine awoke something, foul in the heart of the city.

The twelve canton of Arjenvís, the City of Miseries. Map by the Author

The Black Burning Dawn

The hungers of Arjenvís became so great that the common folk rose up to demand some measure of humanity upon the monstrous inhumanity of the Vlatza and the Boyars. What began as a labor strike, spread from the Wliajenya mine to the workhouses, and to all the desperate poor of Arjenvís. Not since the Beggars’ War have the masses of Arjenvís swollen underclass expressed their anger and rage against their overlords. The labor strike turned into an uprising and then a revolt. Every effort to end the violence only amplified the horror and the evil within the City of Miseries.

A march of striking smallfolk clogged the Prohodt (the wide boulevard that climbed the back slope of the Zyle Wednye ridge to the palace of Kziaze Dwohr) until the armed soldiers of the city guard masacred them. The revolt turned into a revolution with the Noble estates and households under siege and assassinations being carried out almost nightly. Reprisal fallowed reprisal and blood flowed freely in the streets Arjenvís for more than a month.

One morning, before dawn, the Boyars’ army of household soldiers and mercenaries marched on the Wliajenya Gate, the stronghold that controlled both the access to the mines, and the Glenvoky Road that winds down to the north face of the Zyle Wednye to the Trzy Makti (“Three Mothers”) workhouses, center of the strike and the revolt. Supported by new magic from the priests of the Vyara Zabor church and “Mazynik” (Automata), a bloody battle pushed down Glenvoky Road towards the Trzy Makti and into the Wliajenya mine, inflicting terrible casualties on the smallfolk regardless if they were fighting, surrendering, or fleeing.

When dawn came it was different from any sunrise anyone had ever witnessed. It began with a green-blue glow on the horizon. The sun rose as a black circle in the sky burning from below in green, blue and violet flames. Fighting throughout the city abruptly stopped as the horror rose in the sky. Panic washed over the city as people sought a reason for the Black Burning Dawn.

Under that sun, the aristocracy of Arjenvís underwent sudden metamorphosis. As the Black Burning Sun crossed the sky the mortal members of the noble households changed from mortal folk to monsters. They became preadators, vampires, werewolves, ghouls, ghasts, liches and hundreds of others whose curse defies definition. The common mortal folk were reduced to half-alive husks, their souls consumed by the city.

The Curse of Arjenvís

Arjenvís is “alive”. While other realms of terror have a singular figure as the source of evil in their domain, Arjenvís is both the source of evil and the domain itself. The majority of it’s native population, the smallfolk who worked the mines, filled the workhouses and toiled in the fields are now half-alive parodies of their former selves. They provide sustenance (of a sort) to the monstrous fiends that Arjenvís transformed it’s nobility into. Vampires can feed on them, and avoid starving, but they will not grow strong, nor feel the rush of life that they would when feeding on a mortal being with a soul.

The half-alive also are unable to die, even if their corpus is destroyed, or consumed, they will arise as flesh-and-blood from the depths of the Wliajenya Mine and return to their pantomime lives, until misfortune befalls them once more. The monsters are similarly trapped in this cycle of rebirth. Arjenvís never lets it’s people go.

Arjenvís trapped time itself. The same year in the city repeats itself over and over again in a monotonous churn. No new children are born (save for those born during this cursed year away) no one ages, no one dies. Even those who would have died of natural causes during the year find themselves reborn within the Wliajenya Mine.

The unholy hunger of Arjenvís will never be satisfied by the half-alive, or the monstrous aristocracy. The City of Miseries reaches out across the Cosmos and draws in mortal victims and ensnares them into it’s fog-shrouded and blood-drenched streets. Escaping Arjenvís is nearly impossible, approaching the city gates will inexplicably relocate the hostage to another canton within the city. The fugitive will turn a corner, and find themselves in another place, wandering the streets. Escaping on the Erixahn or Nozca Kreft rivers is similarly frustrating. The raft or boat clears a bend in the river and finds itself approaching Arjenvís again. If there are secret ways out, they either remain undiscovered or are jealously guarded by a scant few.

Dark Streets, Dark Hearts

Art by Kazitier

There are several centers of power within Arjenvís, The city is ruled by the Vlatza Juliusz Dzynis, each canton is governed by Boyars, the Vyara Zabor Church is ruled by the Arzykapwan (High Bishop) through their Praladt (Bishops) and their Kziadz (Priests). Even before the Black Burning Dawn, there were feuds and rivalries among the institutions and households in Arjenvís. The Curse has changed very little. The old hatreds have not died.

The Kolegium was responsible for the technological advancements in Arjenvís, Wegnvia Coal burns at temperatures which allow for the wonders of steam power and clockwork engines. The wonders of the Kolegium workshops have become steampunk terrors after the Black Burning Dawn. The Inżynierowie (Engineers) have been transformed in the same manner of the nobility and the church.

Life in Arjenvís is cheap and violent. Even death may not permit escape.

August 13, 2025
The Silver Princess

Adapting early D&D Adventures

One of my favorite old adventures for D&D is Palace of the Silver Princess by Jean Wells (and re-written by Tom Moldvay). I want to focus on Jean’s adventure, because it is really good and introduces a role-playing element that was missing for those first half-dozen years of D&D, a story.

The controversy surrounding this adventure deserves mention, and it has been the subject of a huge volume of articles and analysis over these past four and a half decades. I won’t rehash it here. It involves that mix of Satanic Panic, Sexual Panic, and Mysogyny that was sweeping the MidWest in 1980 and would consume the country for the next decade. It got Jean’s original published adventure pulled from shelves, then rewritten by tom with some controversial illustrations removed to appease the angry moralists (who wouldn’t ever play D&D because they got far more satisfaction from displaying Moral Fiber).

A cropped image of Illusion of the Decapus by Laura Roslof.

Art by Erol Otus. Soup’s on fam!

I can feel my “moral fiber” fraying at the ends… Again, if you want to explore this early controversy in D&D, there are a lot of very detailed and attributed articles out there.

The thing I like about Palace of the Silver Princess, and why I choose it to adapt it to 5th edition and run it for the new generation of gamers is what Jean Wells brought to D&D through it. Palace of the Silver Princess is a Fairy-Tale Romance. With a hidden valley, a lost princess and a bold knight all under a wicked curse that a group of heroes can break.

I also believe that this is what a woman’s perspective (in 1980, when beardy wargaming dudes were arguing over whether or not a Bec-de-Corbin was more effective against Field Plate than the Bohemian Ear Spoon) brought to role-playing games. The effort was both well appreciated by this blogger, and well punished by executives.

Getting to the Point

When I adapt these adventures to play in 5th edition D&D (but, these principles can be adapted to the game system you prefer) I start with the source material. Most of these old adventures can be found as pdfs for cheap all over the internet. What you’ll need most is a notebook or text file to jot down notes.

First, read through the adventure. For most of these early adventures it’s not much. 32 to 64 pages, anything longer would normally be called a “supermodule” even then, Temple of Elemental Evil is only 128 pages long. Read through the whole thing, take notes.

Next, compare the encounters to the resources in the rule set you want to convert to. Most adversaries have stat blocks in the rules you are using. Orcs, for example can be found in every edition of D&D (even the 2024 monster manual see my article about it). For most adventures, the balance of the encounters doesn’t change all that much in the context of the rules. If anything, many encounters get easier. Going back to Orcs for a moment, in first edition AD&D and BECMI, orcs are a hard fight for a first level party, one-to-one. They often have more hit points than most first level classes, and equal hit points to a fighter. They fight like a fighter, and have equivalent armor and weapons. By the time 3rd edition and later, the balance swings towards the player-characters. Same holds true for most other creatures in these early versions.

Adjust the encounters. after reading through the adventure and noting all the encounters as written, take a look in the context of the adventure’s plot. If it looks too hard, adjust some details to make it easier. If it looks too easy, beef it up a little. Don’t just consider the raw stat blocks, look at the context of the encounter. Is it an ambush? Is the adversary asleep, or distracted, or can they be easily fooled. All encounters are not toe-to-toe combats. Consider the encounter’s challenge in light of what it is supposed to do for the adventure. This is also your opportunity as Game Master to tailor the adventure that is published for a wide audience to your group of player characters.

Don’t be afraid to change things. Does one of the characters have a flaw that drives them to hate a monster type, but that monster doesn’t appear in the adventure? Add them in. It’s really easy to take an Orc encounter and make it a Hobgoblin encounter. Do your players not like fighting Zombies? Replace them with a construct of a similar CR. Does your setting not have flashy magic? Change that spell from fireball to a pot of flaming oil that drops in the same spot. Tailoring an otherwise generic adventure to your specific party of player-characters will make the adventure a lot more impactful and memorable.

Finally, take all these notes and make them easy for you to reference during game play. You don’t have to rewrite the whole thing. Just look at the notebook you wrote all these thoughts down on and put it on a format that will help you run the adventure at the table. Don’t rely on having the books at the table, then at the start of the encounter, flip back and forth. That will kill all the momentum that the adventure is building and frustrate both you and your players. My point here is to make it easy on yourself in the way that’s easiest for you to understand. If you are brand new and haven’t developed this skill, don’t worry. Use the format that is printed in the adventure as a guide. As you run more adventures in D&D, you’ll discover what works best for you.

Old Adventures are a Great Resource

There is now a fifty-year library of content for Dungeons and Dragons now. Not just Dungeons and Dragons published by Wizards of the Coast and TSR before that. There are adventures and content published by dozens (if not hundreds) of third-party companies going back to the beginning. There is an inexhaustible supply of adventures that we can choose from.

Lots of these early adventures were touchstones for the D&D community. Adventures like Keep on the Borderlands, Sinister Secret of Saltmarsh, Village of Hommlet, Slave Pits of the Undercity, Vault of the Drow and so many others were run and played at countless table, and it formed a common reference for players. It didn’t even matter that your table didn’t play in the supported campaign world, you could plug the adventure into your home setting and play it nearly out of the box. When you use these adventures at your table, for your players, who may have not even heard of it, you connect yourself to this legacy.

One More Thing

Converting these old adventures also teach you skills that can be used in your Game Master career. By reading and analyzing adventures, you are teaching yourself how they are designed. You can learn what elements of adventure design appeal to you and use these skills in creating your own adventures.

This is a technique taught to art students for centuries. Go to where the masters’ works are on display, bring your supplies and reproduce it. The student’s effort probably won’t look like the masterwork, but it will teach the student to apply the same techniques and learn skills that their instructor couldn’t teach.

Converting the early adventures for fantasy roleplaying into a modern system will improve your GM skills. They might even inspire you to design your own unique adventures.

August 5, 2025
Alignment and Personality

More Dezzy’s House Rules for D&D

Alignment is an artifact of the earliest days of D&D. According to legend, Gary Gygax adopted the mechanic after the players in those early campaigns kept lying, cheating, and murdering one another (and the nearby town) to get treasure and magic items. Alignment was also inspired by Moorcock’s Eternal Champion stories where cosmic forces of Law and Chaos struggled to shape the multiverse. Characters, like the Eternal Champions were agents of those forces. Alignment also served as shorthand, identifying friends and foes, “good-guys” and “bad-guys”. It worked fine for those early development from wargaming, but as players explored the game, it became a crutch, or worse, a straitjacket.

Alignment As Short-hand

How I run alignment currently is as a short-hand to help with character consistency. In a time when weeks or months can pass between game sessions, how we remember our characters drifts. A trait that was central to the character can become neglected, especially of the current multi-session adventure provides little opportunity to express that trait. Sometimes the motivation behind a characters actions looses it’s focus. Having a simple, evocative term to help ground the character has value.

As first edition AD&D defines Alignment, there are two axes that creates the term. One axis is a Law – Neutrality – Chaos (which is also the original Alignment spectrum), the other axis is Good- Neutrality – Evil. The combination of them tells us something about the character. Lawful characters are inclined to order and structure, Evil characters are self-serving and callous, Neutral characters have no strong associations with the poles of that axis.

There is a well known problem with the Good-Evil axis in this system. “Good” and “Evil” in the real world are generally considered subjective based on the consensus of the culture that one is acting within. (an admittedly crude definition, I’m no Philosophy major). In the context of Dungeons and Dragons, Good and Evil are objective and aligned with cosmic forces that reflect in the outer planes. In practical terms, what constitutes Good or Evil is in the hands of the Game Master and the Players in the campaign.

In these early editions, Alignment is restrictive towards what classes players may choose for their characters. Paladins, most famously, must be Lawful Good. Thieves cannot have Good as a component of their alignment, Druids must be “true” Neutral (meaning neutral on both axes). This often led to endless debates over what all that meant. Can a Thief really be Lawful Neutral? Their class abilities, especially Picking Pockets, Sneaking Around and that Back Stab attack are hardly reflective of a Lawful mindset. Are characters following a Chaotic Good Deity simply prevented from being Paladins? What about rebels fighting a tyrannical kingdom? Can they be Lawful and still fight the established order? Can they be Good and still support slavery because it’s legal? It was a murky pool to wade into.

5th ed Personal Characteristics

5th edition added more tools for character definition, Personal Characteristics. Four categories; Personality Traits, Ideals, Bonds and Flaws were one sentence or one phrase descriptors of a character’s persona. They were more detailed than just a simple two axis alignment and since the persona categories used sentences and phrases, players could define their characters much more precisely. They’re no longer simply “Chaotic Neutral”, 5th ed characters are Chaotic Neutral and Have Never Lost Their Child-like Sense of Wonder, Never Sticks to A Single Set of Rules, Does What They Can to Protect the Natural World, and Is Always Changing Their Mind.

The “Ideals” category often has alignment recommendations. Helping the player to choose an Ideal that compliments their Alignment choice.

Finally, ever since 3rd edition, alignment restrictions on classes have been removed, which has removed Alignment from being a requirement to make a character. In modern D&D Alignment has become nothing more than a soft statistic that shapes but not defines a character.

Personal Characteristics as Alignment Replacement

This is the mechanic I’ll be using in my D&D games going forward. The classic alignment axis system still exists, but only as an organizing framework for the outer planes and as shorthand for minions, NPCs and Monsters, not player characters.

For player characters there are three Personal Characteristics that serve the purpose that Alignment did.

Bonds: the connection the character has with others, family, companions, their home village, etc..

Ideals: the character’s motivations, why they continue pursuing adventure even after they experience setbacks and obstacles.

Flaws: those aspects of a character’s personality that hinder their own efforts.

At character creation, each personal characteristic is assigned a short statement that describes them. Each characteristic will reflect an alignment component; Good, Evil, Lawful, Chaotic, or Neutral. Bonds and Ideals cannot be in opposing alignments, one cannot be good, while the other is evil, or one cannot be lawful wile the other is chaotic. Neutral alignment is not considered in opposition with any other alignment. These two personal characteristics can have the statements that invoke the same alignment.

Flaws must invoke an alignment in opposition to at least one of the two other personal characteristics. In the case of Neutral Bonds or Ideals, the Flaw has to be non-neutral.

If the players play their personal characteristics appropriately and in a way that disadvantages the character by the choice, the Game Master may award them Heroic Inspiration, if the character already has Heroic Inspiration they may give it to another character who does not, and if everyone in the party has Heroic Inspiration, the player can increase their character’s Doom Die by 1 die type (maximum of d8)

Seasons change, and so did I

(with apologies to the Guess Who for the line)

Players may choose to change their character’s personal characteristics when the character gains a new Experience Level. They may add an additional Bond, Ideal, and Flaw when they advance to Tier 2, and again at Tiers 3 and 4. These changes and additions are optional to the player and can only be chosen upon gaining a new experience level.

Conclusion

This house rule for Alignment isn’t a straitjacket, and should not be enforced as such. These traits are intended to be tools for character development. Relating them to alignments helps to define a character’s morality and ethics. While the subjective terms “Good” and “Evil” are employed as components of this mechanic, I argue here that those terms, and we’ll thrown in Law, Chaos and Neutrality in there too, are intended for each group of gamers to determine for themselves and agree to amongst one another. These terms of moral and ethical philosophy can and will change for each of us over the course of our lives. Gods only know what I thought was “Good” and “Evil” when I first started playing Dungeons and Dragons four and a half decades ago are not the same as they are at the time I’m writing this, and will likely evolve some more before I’m finished playing D&D.

(If I get my wish, that will be another four and a half decades from now, I’m not eager to reach the end of this journey any time soon)

Point being, Dungeons and Dragons (and all tabletop roleplaying games) belong to everybody playing them and we’re allowed to define alignment and personality traits to suit our table just as much as we can decide whether or not Orcs have pig snouts or not. There is no wrong answer, there never was.

(Featured Art by Becky Peltier http://www.artofbeckypeltier.com)

July 29, 2025
I’m not crazy, I’m just a little unwell

I know, right now, you can’t tell

…with apologies to Matchbox 20 for using their lyrics in my title.

I was introduced to Call of Cthulhu right after Dungeons and Dragons. My friends and I had all sorts of those thin little boxed editions from Chaosium back in the 80s. The Sanity mechanic they pioneered was, if you’ll forgive me, mind-bending. Our characters weren’t just at risk of death that would remove them from play, they could lose their minds! The horrors of the Mythos could break them beyond the players’ ability to play them.

Over four, nearly five, decades that mechanic has evolved and has been adapted to the point where, “making a SAN check” or “lost some Sanity Points” is a part of our gaming language, beyond horror roleplaying or even tabletop gaming. We can even say it’s part of the fabric of gaming.

But things change…

Those terms; santiy, insanity, crazy, they’re all antiquated at best, and prejudiced at worst. They perpetuate a stigma towards real-world neurodivergent or traumatized people. I kinda get it, this is a game, make believe, there aren’t any Shoggoths, or Vampires, or Secret Math that breaks people’s mental and emotional stability.

There is real world trauma, though. People are subjected to all to real horrors, and just like the body can be injured, so can the mind. People can be born with physical impairments and people are also born with neuro-divergent conditions. These people play tabletop roleplaying games too. They want to portray aspects of themselves in their own stories too.

My change to terminology

I am renaming a lot of the terms in this mechanic going forward in my games. A characters replacement for their sanity pool I’m calling Stability. Damage and checks are re-termed as Stress. Effects of accumulated stress are re-termed as Trauma. Enforced behavior from Trauma I’m calling Compulsions.

The mechanic is the same as that found in all the editions of Call of Cthulhu, or Basic Roleplaying. It’s just the terminology that changes. Instead of making Sanity checks, the player makes Stability checks, they suffer Stress instead of Sanity Damage, and they develop Traumas instead of Insanity.

Delta Green

The Call of Cthulhu based game Delta Green by Arc Dream Publishing adds a new twist to this mechanic that I love. Agents in Delta Green all start with 5 bonds with NPCs, representing family, friends, lovers, contacts and peers. They can develop more through roleplaying during game play, and each bond has a score between 1 and their Charisma score. The higher the score, the stronger the bond is.

Bonds can be spent in place of reducing Stress. For every point of a Bond used in this manner the amount of Stress taken is reduced by the same amount. When a Bond’s score reaches zero, it’s broken, and the NPC is estranged from the Agent. I love how this simulates the toll that a horror campaign takes on the characters, stealing the people in their lives and isolating them. Agents in Delta Green, as they learn more and more secrets become less and less relatable until they are all alone in a dingy, empty room surrounded by corkboard and string.

I’ll be adding and adapting this mechanic to my future horror campaigns.

Conclusion

Tabletop gaming continues to evolve. There was a time, especially in the horror genre where consent was really not offered, and when it was asked for, the player was told (rather condescendingly) that “it’s just make believe, stop being so sensitive”. Shock horror techniques involving blood, gore, violations and over-the-top violence was common, and reflected the media era that tabletop evolved with. It didn’t matter if things like sexual assault or extreme violence harmed some players, it was expected that if you sat down at a table for a game of horror you as the player were agreeing to be exposed to these things.

We’ve come a rather long way in forty years. Consent is a large part of this progress. The recognition of a social contract at the gaming table is transforming our hobby to one of shared experience. I think this adjustment in terminology is a small step in pushing the appeal of gaming forward. If referring to a character’s mental state as being Stable and Stressed helps a player feel less judged for their own struggles, especially if they keep those struggles to themselves, this is a good thing. If everyone at the table is empowered to express what boundaries they have without fear of judgement prevents hurtful mistakes that invokes a trauma that affects the player, then we can tell better stories with one another.

Older gamers, elder nerds are no longer gatekeepers to the clubhouse, checking everyone’s tolerance and understanding of details. We have a responsibility to new and old players alike to use the experience we have earned at the table to make these games a fun escape for everyone who wants to join in.

July 22, 2025
Slavery in Swords & Sorcery

Veiling our crimes behind a smiling historical mask

I’m designing an Underdark adventure. It’s deep below the surface of the world, closer to the wicked empires of Dark Elves, Grey Dwarves, Mind Flayers and Kuo-Toa. In the setting for this adventure, there is a settlement. A small semi-permanent collection of structures and tents that’s grown up at a crossroads next to an underground lake.

And it has a slave market.

The institution in the Underdark

Within the adventure location there are bands of escaped slaves and posses of slave hunters playing cat-and-mouse in the lightless tunnels. There’s a party of death-worshiping drow more than willing to sacrifice anyone they capture to the Demon Prince of Undeath. Bad people making bad choices and doing bad things. It’s one of the dangers of the adventure that the characters need to overcome.

Slavery and the trafficking of people remain an evil. Simulating this evil in game doesn’t make it better. Worse, making the institution of slavery a part of a role-playing game can trivialize the impact of it.

It’s true that whole ethnicities of people were owned throughout history. The struggle for them to win their freedom is both centuries long and ongoing even today. Just because there’s no antebellum aristocrat in a smart white suit sipping bourbon on the front porch of his plantation, doesn’t mean that slavery remains very real, and remains an ethnically motivated practice.

As a middle-aged, masc presenting white person, it is cruel to pretend that slavery, even in game, is normalized. Especially if I have players at my table whose families may well have been enslaved in the not-to distant past. It is likewise cruel to place a player in the position of being a slave owner, appeaser of slavery as an institution or have their character be a slave without the player’s active consent.

Gaming and Consent

Since I mentioned consent, I should expound. Tabletop Role Playing is a communal experience. At least two people interacting to tell an improvised story about the Game Master’s adventure and the Player’s Original Character. Because of that, the players and Game Master need mutual, and active consent when playing.

This extends to most interactions in game. But where it runs into the question of humanity, that interaction is critical. If any party at the table doesn’t want to be confronted with dark or transgressive subject matter, those wishes need to be respected. This includes enslavement and institutional slavery.

Real World Institutions vs In-World Lore

For as long as I’ve been gaming, there has always been this loud, obnoxious, background noise advocating for more “Historical Realism” in Tabletop role-playing. Everything from disparaging Hit Points, to weapon space, and for the modern and future settings, the minutae of guns. I’ve seen hundreds of systems and house-rules. Most of them bogging down the game as the table comes to a screeching halt as we figure out what body-part just got hit by which attack.

The other historical rabbit-hole is environmental realism. Great Lords ruled over peasants, the aristocracy were allowed to do whatever they wanted because they were the rulers. Gods, after Braveheart roared through the community like so many screaming extras, the term Prima Noctis started cropping up everywhere. Of course, enslavement of every historical stripe has long been a yardstick by which “immersion” was measured. Lawful and Good alignments were construed to support the institution. It was deemed, “ok” and “natural” and because it was imaginary roleplay, wasn’t really real. Like I mentioned up in the consent section, if that’s what the table agrees to, then enjoy your game. I’m not trying to police your table.

But, when you hear my game in the FLGS, or play at my table at convention, don’t expect to go to the market and buy yourself a slave. I don’t have fun being a GM who plays the slaver, or the enslaved. I don’t care for “historical realism”. At best it’s whitewashed History, at worst it’s a power fantasy about owning people.

What about those Slavers hanging out in the Underdark?

I started this essay with the adventure and setting I’m designing. By having slavery as an institution in the background, I’m hoping to allow the tables who utilize my adventure some freedom to adjust it’s impact to suit their taste. There’s a group of escaped slaves and there’s a band of hunters chasing them, it’s up to the players and their characters to react to that set of encounters. It’s up to the Game Master to determine it’s importance. Slavers have made great antagonists in fiction for a very long time. One of the first series of adventures published for AD&D was the A-Series of modules, collectively known as “Against the Slave Lords”. One of the classic cues that there is something “bad” about a given realm is the presence or absence of legal slavery. I’m not saying “don’t use slavery at all in D&D”, I’m asking to put some thought into whether or not it contributes to the story that’s being made at your table.

And, for the Seven Heavens, don’t justify it behind the excuse of “slavery was common in 3rd Century Rome (or 16th century France, or choose your historical era here)”. Tabletop roleplaying isn’t about historical accuracy, it’s about having fun with your friends, and making new ones.

July 15, 2025
Money Makes the World Go ‘Round

The difference between Treasure and Money

Your characters have done it! You’ve journeyed deep into the earth below the ruined castle. Overcame traps and foes alike, solved ancient puzzles, and killed the Great Beast in it’s lair. Your characters gaze over the accumulated wealth of centuries, jewels and coin and gemstones. Your hirelings start scooping treasure into heavy sacks to carry to the surface, and then home. Everybody is rich!

Except you’re not, not yet.

Currency and taxation

This is getting a bit into the weeds with regards to worldbuilding. Where the adventurers find treasure can be important. Finding a centuries-old cache of coins leads to a problem,the realms that minted those coins may no longer exist. This leads to an issue when the characters try spending the coin back in town.

One reason currency is minted is to attest to its purity. Gold in particular is more valuable the more pure it is. 100% pure (24 karat) gold is worth more than 75% pure (18 karat) or 50% pure (12 karat) gold. When a realm stamps their mark on a coin it’s a guarantee of purity in the metal. Everyone who trades in the coin of the realm can be confident that the gold is of a minimum purity (usually 75% or 50%, depending on the wealth of the realm minting the coin). Coins from elsewhere don’t enjoy that confidence. Especially old coinage. Instead of valuing the coin based on it’s declared value, coins are valued on the weight and purity of the metal in the coin.

If the adventurers have their treasure appraised, they can either pay a fee (usually 10% of the value of coins appraised) to a Jeweler to value the coins based on the metal they contain. If the adventurers have access too and proficiency with Jeweler’s tools they may appraise their own treasure by making a Intelligence check with proficiency against a Difficulty class set by the Game Master. Adventurers who know the appraised value of their treasure have Advantage on Charisma checks when negotiating a sale of the coin.

Ancient coins from realms lost to history, can also be valued as historical or collectors’ pieces. To the right buyer, a box of 3,000 year old coin from an extinct empire might be worth far more than either the value of metal, or the declared value stamped on the coin. This can add detail and steps to cashing in on your treasure hoard that players may not be interested in. Not every player of Dungeons and Dragons enjoys haggling with money-changers over the relative value of copper. To keep things simple, and to minimize accounting, it’s recommended that the Game Master simply assign a percentage that treasure is worth in currency (usually between 50 and 80% .

The coins can be melted down and sold by weight. The price for precious metals will always be less than the currency value of the coin that can be minted or the jewelry that can be made from it and depends on the purity of the metal. Appraising the precious metal will give the adventurers Advantage on Charisma check when negotiating a sale.

Using Treasure to Pay for Goods and Services.

Sometimes, it’s unavoidable, treasure is the only resource that is available to pay for a room and meals at the roadside inn, or when purchasing a mule and cart from a local homestead. Or maybe the characters want to avoid entanglements with the local government. In this case, the characters need to persuade the merchant or inkeep to accept their coin. After all, gold is gold, even if it doesn’t carry the stamp of the ruling sovereign. This would be a Charisma (Persuasion) check against the NPC’s Intelligence (or Charisma, depending on the scene) bonus plus 10. Give Advantage if the characters know the value of what they’re trading (having someone appraise their treasure qualifies). Or Disadvantage if the source of the treasure has a bad reputation. No one wants to take cursed silver from the haunted halls.

At best, the treasure shouldn’t be worth more than their declared value, even on a natural 20. Otherwise, a successful Persuasion gives the characters their asking value, and a failed Persuasion gives them only half that. A natural 1 throws other complications into the transaction.

But bartering treasure isn’t like shopping at Ye Olde K-Marte. If a patron isn’t taking legitimate coin, they aren’t too keen on giving exact change in coin of the realm. Accepting illegitimate currency is a crime in most settled areas. At best, it’s just a minor crime and a fine will reconcile the legal issue. At worst, it’s counterfeiting, or espionage, and the characters face imprisonment, or the headsman’s axe.

Money as a Motivator

In the early days of D&D, characters earned experience points, in fact, most of their experience points from the gold piece value of the treasure they brought out of a dungeon. One gold piece = one experience point. Fighting monsters and ad hoc experience was at best one quarter or one third of your character’s experience total.

As Matt Colville once said, “how a game rewards it’s players is what the game is about.” In the case of early D&D, that meant getting treasure. Your characters advanced based on how much treasure they “won” or earned or stole. This led to players to scouring every inch of the adventure for every single coin or item of value. Later editions abandoned this experience point method, which is overall a good thing. Getting better at adventuring because you’re rich, or the instances where novice adventurers become superheroes because they found a treasure hoard worth more than a kingdom was kind of silly.

Still, moving the experience motivation away from treasure had a drawback. D&D rewarded encounters and combat, so that’s what players focused on, and that became rather boring. It also cut off one of the classic reasons that people take up adventuring in the first place. Finding treasure.

TANSTAAFL

Players should be motivated by something more than experience points. We’re in the year 2025, computer gaming can scratch that itch just fine if all the player wants is to level up their characters over and over.

During Session 0 of a campaign, the Game Master ant the Players should set expectations and define the role of treasure in the story. During this stage, you can establish the importance of money in the setting and in the campaign. There is a big difference between a band of dirt-poor adventurers doing everything necessary to scrape enough coin together to buy their next night at an inn and a court romance of aristocratic adventurers for whom money isn’t an issue, but treasure can buy prestige and power.

Once established, the role of money and treasure should be used. Don’t handwave the important expenses for the campaign. In the campaign where the characters are scraping for coins, charge the characters for every round of drink, and every transaction, no matter how trivial. The characters are struggling, and their players should be always aware of that fact. In the campaign of noble adventurers seeking status or glory, the minor costs, like buying a round for the house in the tavern to loosen tongues, or flipping the minstrel a couple of gold to (quite literally) sing their praises doesn’t need to be tracked. However, the value of treasure is of critical importance as well as the conspicuous consumption. Keeping up a Aristocratic Lifestyle, paying for an entourage, keeping up with courtly fashion (no one wants to be seen at this season’s ball wearing last years fashions!) the accounting may be different, but the fundamental is the same, Treasure is important, and will affect the characters’ advancements.

Money Is Money

Players sometimes only care about gold pieces, or platinum pieces. Silver, copper or electrum are simply not valuable enough to be bothered with. Just remember, most large amounts of treasure is not going to be neatly divided by coin. It takes time to sort through hundreds of coin to pick out all the gold or platinum, which are much rarer than copper or silver. Also, platinum and silver are pretty similar in color, and with the really poor lighting in dungeons separating the platinum from the silver would be s-l-o-w. In dungeon lighting conditions (such as those defined as “bright light” in the 5e rules, it will take 1 hour to sort through 500 coins. In dim light, that time doubles.

In a similar manner to the current change problem as described earlier, tossing around gold for every purchase is going to cause problems. Most communities smaller than cities don’t have enough coin to break gold and platinum down to lower value coin. When the tavern’s house ale cost 5 copper pieces for a pint, slapping a gold piece down, even for a round for the house is twenty pints. Consider this, if the local tavernkeep is selling fare for copper pieces, they’re not going to have an abundance of coin to make change.

But it’s Not All Taxes and Crime

Don’t go overboard with relieving the adventurers of their hard-won treasure. Part of the fun of finding mounds of treasure is spending it. Let the adventurers commission magic items, specialized armor, purchase noble title or church ranks. Large purchases like a stronghold, or ship can be planned and enhanced. Wizards need sanctuaries, Priests need temples, Warriors need fortresses and Thieves need hideouts.

July 9, 2025