GM Notes - Morgansfort Session 3

Here continues the adventure of the Old Island Fortress where our party has just escaped a chamber of gray ooze.

Adventure Recap/Synopsis:

The party finds itself on the other side of a hidden door safely cut off from the ooze in the previous dungeon chamber. The passage runs north ahead of them at least 60 feet trailing off into darkness, but also splits off into a side passage to the east, ten feet ahead of them. Pater scouts the corridor straight ahead. Just beyond the reach of the torch light of the group he sees a small child shaking up ahead speaking in a language he can’t understand. The child is motioning for Pater to stay away and to not come near him. Pater reports back to the group. Mel attempt to talk to the strange child next, but after getting closer the child begins convulsing and blood begins to stream out of its orifices dissolving into a pulpy mess that evaporates into the air. No trace is left of the apparition.

Another child’s voice is heard asking for help from the side passage to the east, this time the language is in the common tongue. After some discussion the group heads down the side passage to the east. This corridor opens up after 30 feet into a dark 20’ x 20’ room with a corridor open to the south. A small figure is curled up in the fetal position weeping on a wedge-shaped platform next to a large chest in the northeast corner. Several nooses hang from the high ceilings above. The party engage the “child” who suddenly stops weeping and rises to reveal itself to be a 7’ tall, slender being. Its head is like an elongated sheep’s skull with a spiky mane of hair on top. Its flesh is a translucent syrup color with its black bones and liquid organs seen underneath. It speaks a wry welcome.

The party attacks, but blows that should cause damage seem to have no effect. The creature says, “Let’s play a game, shall we?” It proposes a deal. It explains that the way ahead as well as the way back all end in dead ends. “There are nothing but dead ends down here.” It proposes a game. It will ask the party three riddles. If they get one right, it will show them the way out. If they fail to guess one answer correctly, it will eat them. With little recourse, they submit.

Riddle 1:

I have a bad reputation,
Yet I have freed slaves,
Helped battered wives escape,
Sometimes I admit
I’ll get a killer out of jail,
But I have been known
To help the mad and sick.
Kings too,
More than a few, I have released from jams.
I will never discriminate
And the darker things seem
The closer I will be.

(Taken from Fire On The Velvet Horizon, by Patrick Stuart and Scrap Princess.)

The party guesses death. It’s a near miss. The creature informs them the answer is “suicide” and counts one for his column.

Riddle 2:

I will wait
For those who left me here
Where the path divides
Between heaven and earth.
I went up, but
I won’t come down again.
The crow knows me.

(Taken from Fire On The Velvet Horizon, by Patrick Stuart and Scrap Princess.)

The party guesses a hanged man, the correct answer. The creature seems delighted and promises to show them the way out, but asks if they will indulge him in one more riddle since he rarely gets to talk to people.

Riddle 3:

My makers hate me
Though
I am a neat small size
And take less work to make.
They give me what they loved,
I keep it safe.
They visit all the time,
But hate coming.
I make them cry.

(Taken from Fire On The Velvet Horizon, by Patrick Stuart and Scrap Princess.)

Again, the party guesses correctly, “a child’s grave.” The creature signals for the party to follow it down the south passage. After 60’ the passage ends in an old stone wall. The beast entreats them to walk through the wall which when pushed reveals itself a cloth tapestry painted convincingly as a wall. The party walk through and the beast leaves them to return to its lair.

GNS Musings

I first encountered Ron Edwards' GNS theory of role-playing through watching videos by YouTubers IvanMike1968 and Runeslinger. While I was AWOL from gaming the past few decades I missed what were apparently some stupendous flame wars in and about Edwards' DIY indie gaming site, The Forge. I don't pretend to have more than a passing knowledge of Mr. Edwards or his theory so I don't proclaim myself as any expert on any of it.

From what I understand the theory goes something like this: RPG gamers are divided into three camps, gamists, narrativists, and the simulationists. Each camp has their own creative agenda when they come to the table, or more plainly, they're all looking for a different experience when they game. In broad strokes, the gamist wants to compete "to win," the narrativist considers the creation of a player-driven story to be most important, and the simulationist most values immersion in their character. At least that's what I think I've been able to ascertain.

Whether or not you agree with this system of classification, it's worthwhile to acknowledge that not everyone has the same motivations for why they like to play RPGs. We all have our own ideas about where the fun lies in these games. When people with different goals game together it can be problematic. But does it have to be?

I ask myself this because I'm generally an introspective person and I'm naturally curious what camp I would fall into. Strangely, I'm not sure. There are aspects of each that at least, on the surface, seem compelling. However many proponents of this theory argue these agendas are mutually exclusive. I don't know how I feel about that. Human beings are perfectly capable of holding conflicting, even contradictory, motives or beliefs. It's part of what makes us such interesting, complex creatures. Also, I wonder if my goals would be the same as a player and a GM, or if I would have different agendas depending on what side of the table I'm sitting on.

I don't think I fit into narrativism. I like creating a good story, but I'm not driving towards some preconceived idea of a satisfying narrative. I want to play to find out what happens, even if that doesn't make a particularly compelling story. I don't particularly care for the actor-turned-author stance where a character's story arc is more important than the dice. Again, at least as far as I'm able to understand this agenda.

I think I would have characterized my younger self as a gamist, not only because I was interested in seeing my character advance in levels, but additionally because I wanted, as a player, to cleverly figure things out and to be rewarded for playing well. I had little use for in-character role-play, usually favoring first-person exposition over direct dialogue. Now, I find myself drawn more towards simulationism, where playing a role well is its own reward regardless of how much XP or GPs are involved. That said, I think I can still have fun even if I'm not fully immersed. What's interesting are the questions, can our creative agendas expand or even change over time, or do our perceptions of our true motivations change?

I've also begun trying to analyze where the players at my current table fit into this theory and how compatible their motivations may be with my own. So far, we've all had a good time during the games I've run, but I have noticed a little strain. One of my friends would definitely be a gamist as a player. His level of fun seems directly related to how well his character is doing in-game. If he's killing a lot of monsters and accomplishing tasks, he's happy. If his character is on his last couple of hit points and having a hard time hitting anything, he gets mopey. He begged to play a Paladin despite my initial suggestion we stick to the four core classes. He wanted the extra powers, but later mock-complained about needing more XP than everyone else to level up.

Interestingly enough, this friend has run a couple of games I've played in (4e and DCC), and he had a very railroad-y approach to the game. He wrote his adventures out as a series of story scenes that the PCs had to hit. His satisfaction depended on the players running through the story as he designed it. Once I heard about the GNS model, I recognized pretty quickly how different our play styles were once I had the vocabulary to articulate it. The question remains, is there enough overlap between us to play together? Or does the fact that we're very good, old friends smooth over any of the potential sticking points?

I guess what I try to focus on are the places where our play styles do overlap. Despite driving "to win," my friend is an excellent role-player, very comfortable with in-character dialogue and eager to play through a scene versus waiting to roll dice. He also enjoys when he can become immersed and is nonplussed if another player upon hearing the description of a creature says, "Oh, it's Stirges." There are also shared preferences outside of creative agendas where we can find common ground - for instance genre, session pacing, and tone (mix of gravitas and humor). We've been able to find a happy medium somewhere in the middle. Whether or not that continues to be the case once his character dies remains to be seen.

The GNS theory is an interesting idea and can be a good shorthand way to figure out if you're on the same wavelength as someone else, possibly saving yourself time and headaches playing with people who aren't looking for the same experience as you. At the same time, I don't think it's the end-all, be-all. These kinds of divisions, whether natural or contrived, tend make people breaks into antagonistic tribes, claiming their way is better than any other.

RPGs already bring out an inner defensiveness in their practitioners possibly due to how vulnerable players are while role-playing. Good role-playing involves a certain amount of trust and openness between players which leave them exposed to criticism, prone to feeling silly. In light of this vulnerability, it can be easy for players to be defensive and insecure of whether they are "doing it right." Sure, RPGs have rules (sometimes lots of them), but in the end, what we're doing is pretty squishy and open to interpretation. That's part of the magic.

I'm not sure if I'll ever make peace with this theory, but if nothing else, it's an interesting exercise which hopefully helps us be honest with ourselves about what we're really after in playing these games.

GM Notes - Morgansfort Session 2

This second session took place a month after the first which became our normal schedule. I had started running this module as a one-shot, or least intending it to only last a game or two, before we moved onto something of my own. Instead this has turned into a campaign which, after all, is the intention. The open-ended design makes this pretty easy. What follows are my notes as remembered to the best of my ability. There was a lot of role-playing in this session which the party didn't re-enter the dungeon until late into the game. They were only a little way through the actually underground adventure when we had to break for our three-hour hard stop. Like the first recap, I've used the present tense to allow the reader to follow along more easily in their own mind.

Adventure Recap/Synopsis:

The party emerges into mid-afternoon daylight from the dungeon underneath the Old Island Fortress. After a brief discussion, they decide to go back into the dungeon to retrieve the two desiccated bodies found in the room across the hall from the stirges’ nests. They portage the small boat to the other side of the river and find a quiet place to bury the bodies up the hill from Grelda’s cottage.

As they start on the road back to the fort, they spot the same pretty blond girl who was loitering outside the herbalist shop that morning quickly dart into the cottage. Pater attempts to sneak up to the house and listen. The front door opens and the girl asks Pater who he is and what he wants. The rest of the party announce themselves, ask her name, and inquire if Grelda is home. The girl is Jyni. Grelda is her aunt and is out for the moment. She assures the party that she is fine by herself. The party bid her leave and make a pretense of returning back to Morgansfort. Once out of sight of the cottage, the group circle back and hide in a copse of trees behind Grelda’s and wait.

A few hours pass and the group eat, rest, and recuperate from their recent bloody excursion. Mel and Nyphus take it easy in particular. Just as dusk arrives, so too does Grelda. She returns from out of the sky, flying low astride her garden plow. She enters the small cottage and shortly after Jyni exits heading back up the road to the fort.

The party follow Jyni at a distance in the deepening gloom to make sure of her safety. At the gate the adventures are asked if they have any treasure to claim as there is a 10% tax on all treasure returned to the fort from the area. The tax pays for the upkeep of the fort’s military garrison which protects the local farms from bandits and any threat of invasion from evil humanoids. The punishment for shirking the tax by hiding treasure is public flogging. Renik tells the clerk at the gate that any treasure they bring came with them when they first arrived at the fort.

Dinner is had in the tavern and the party heads off for rest. Pater goes to bed early, but wakes in the middle of the night to have a look around. The square is lit up outside from an unseen, omnidirectional light source. Pater sees a man knock and get let into the building next to the tavern. Following the other’s example, Pater knocks and is questioned at the door by a large surly man. He is almost turned away when a voice from inside says, “Oh Bargus, let him in.” Pater enters what appears to be a normal residence, but is lead down a hallway where a bookcase masks a hidden door leading downstairs into a basement. The room is immediately recognizable as an illicit gambling hall (gambling is strictly forbidden in Morgansfort). There is a bar against the right wall and several table where games of chance are being played. Pater sidles up to the bar and asks for a drink. His neighbor on his left tells the barkeep to put it on his tab. That neighbor turns out to be the Baronet Halden Rathwynn. After a short conversation Pater mentions the nightmares of his party members which seems to spook the Baronet who quickly leaves. The barkeep mentions to Pater that the Baronet is a regular who has a bit of a gambling addiction. Pater tries his hand at games with some off-duty soldiers and loses money.

The next day Renik goes to the bank and gets the jewelry the party took out of Island Fortress appraised. The teller questions him where he got them and Renik gruffly mentions something about family heirlooms. He leaves without liquidating the goods.

The party spend the next few days rest up and healing, and prepare to return to the Island Fortress. No nightmares occur. The party enter the dungeon with the intent on dispatching the foul ape-with-a-crow-head, Ghazold. When they reach his octagonal antechamber they see nothing but his empty chains and shackles hanging from the ceiling. Having gone westwards previously, this time the party goes down the east passage which quickly ends with a stuck door. Pater finds no traps on the door itself, but once opened, a trap in the floor immediately opens and Nyphus and Renik fall in 20 feet down taking damage. Pater and Mel spike a rope down, but not before surveying the room above. It is only an empty banquet hall covered in dust. Mel and Pater head down too where they find themselves trapped in the east end of a large, though odd-shaped, room with a gray ooze creeping towards them. Pater scouts the other end of the room and finds no way out. There is a small room off this one separated by bars – bars too close for even small Pater to slip through. Within the small room is a bench with three ceramic flasks and a crate, another door on the north wall. The party engages in combat with the ooze, but to no avail. Arrows and sling stones dissolve on contact and the torch thrown at it sputters, dies out and is absorbed into the mass. The party retreats to the rope, but the trapdoor above them is now shut. Luckily Mel finds a secret door leading out of the room close to where they fell in.

The party finds themselves in a new passage which leads north with another passage heading east 10 feet up. Here we leave our heroes until next session...

A Recommitment to the Blog

Seeing as how it's been a couple of months since my last post, I wanted to give a quick update before posting anything new. I've been doing a lot of reading, thinking about, and actual playing of RPGs the past couple of months. The game I started in September is still going and we've had a blast. I've bought a bunch more OSRs as well as some of the old TSR modules I've never owned. I watched hours of other people playing or discussing different rules or game mechanics and I've done a lot of thinking about my own preferences and biases as it relates to role-playing.

I'm still really enjoying Basic Fantasy, but some of my old reservations from D&D remain around the game. As simple and basic of game as it is, I'm still craving something a little leaner. I've found that as I've gotten older, I need (or want) the rules less and less. So, hopefully without jinxing anything, I'm planning on putting my own rules set together. This is something I intentionally set out not to do when I started gaming again. I didn't want to reinvent the wheel. However, I think it would be nice to have a hard copy of the game as I like to play it. I'd like to self-publish it through Lulu or CreateSpace if nothing more than to have a physical copy for myself and to be able to share with others looking for something similar.

I don't want to dive into what the system will entail just yet. I'll need some more time to think, write, and play test it all. In the meantime, Basic Fantasy is still my game and I plan to develop and submit a couple of adventures I've been working on to the BF workshop forums. Whether or not they get published isn't really important. It's more about getting some feedback on my writing and ideas as well as go through the exercise of making an RPG adventure.

Stay tuned for more game synopses and random thoughts about RPGs in general.

Bards: Nope.

I expect this post to be poorly received (if it's received by anyone at all). Regardless of what I say in this post, I think everyone should play the game that they have fun with and not feel bad about it. That said, I hate Bards.

At least I hate them as a PC class. As a non-magical, jack-of-all-trades NPC? Fine. But for me and my game, the spellcasting, multiple-attacking, healer and rogue known as the Bard has no appeal. It is as ridiculous to me as it would be if there were a player class for sports team mascots in a fantasy milieu. I find them obnoxious and silly. They tend to appeal to players who were high school drama club kids, open-mic comedians, hack local musicians, and power gamers.

The Bard class has a troubled history in the game. In 1e AD&D, Bards were relegated to the back of the PHB as an optional class at the DM's discretion. There was even a caveat that most DMs didn't allow them. I think that, in itself, says it all. It's like Gary knew that he was introducing something silly and shameful so he hid it at the back. He also made it very difficult to become a Bard. The Bard needed scores of at least 15 in Strength, Wisdom, Dexterity, and Charisma, and minimum scores of 12 in Intelligence and 10 in Constitution. Almost no character is so blessed. They also started as a Fighter from 1st to 5th level, then continued as a Thief starting sometime prior to 8th level, before pursuing Druidic studies sometime before 9th. Only then would they become a 1st-level Bard. With all those hoops to jump through it's as if Gary was saying, just don't do it.

Oh, how times have changed. Bards are currently regarded as one of the more powerful (and therefore "best") classes in modern D&D. Discussions about how to min/max your bard to be the ultimate badass, cool guy abound in forums. The class is also seen as the consummate party member by using lots of buff and de-buff abilities to enhance the play of their fellow PCs. As I alluded to at the top of this post, I realize I'm in the minority here. Most people like the flexibility and customizable application of skills, feats, and abilities on offer. I just can't relate. Not just to this class, but to the tone and setting of any game that uses this class. The image of some doink in a leather jerkin and a feather in their cap bringing a lute down into the dark places of the earth to jam out some riffs to aid the party in felling a red dragon completely turns the game into a joke for me.

I recently came across a Web DM video on Bards (see below). I like these guys and I think they have a lot to offer current gamers, but when I listen to them say that 5e finally got Bards right, reeling off dipping options, level paths, and maxing out combinations of abilities I can't help but laugh. Not just because of how ridiculous it all sounds, but because I realize this is how most people play the game. In modern D&D every class is a jack-of-all-trades, master of all. Everyone can fight, cast spells, heal, pick pockets, etc. It's a game where every day is your birthday with a constant stream of presents and every kind of cake and honestly it bores me to tears. But hey, do what makes you happy. I'm not here to tell you (and nearly 90% of all other role-players) that your fun is wrong. Just get off my lawn. 😀

So, could I ever envision allowing a Bard PC in my Basic Fantasy game? Maybe, but I don't think I would even use the Bard as given in the BF Quasi-Classes supplement. It's still a little too silly. I think I'd be okay allowing a base-class Fighter or a Thief to become a character with Decipher, Listen, Lore, Tumble, Influence, and extra languages. Starting at second level I'd give them one orison every other level until 10th. I'd also keep all of BF's prerequisites, which although tough, aren't as high of a bar as Gary set. They could carry an instrument if they wished, but it would mostly be for flavor, or to use as a known secondary skill if an adventure required it (i.e. Death Frost Doom). That seems like reasonable Bard class to me although I'm willing to bet no one would want to play it.

One last thought here, and it doesn't strictly pertain to my thoughts about Bards. From time to time in this blog I might rant about newfangled RPGs and why I like something else more. People get very sensitive when they feel you are telling them that they're doing it wrong - no matter what "it" is, but particular when "it" is role-playing. Well, I just want to say, stop sweating it. There's plenty of real things to feel anxiety about. Your hobby shouldn't be one of them. If people say they don't like the game you play or how you play it, that's fine. Let it go. If someone reads this and calls me a crusty old Grognard who plays an inferior, overly simplistic version of the game, so be it. I don't care. And I don't care if the version of the game that I like dies out because no one else wants to play it. If that's the way it is, that's how it goes. Tough cookies for me. Likewise, if I say something you like is silly, learn to brush it off. For those of you who like to play Bards, the more power to you.

OSR Deadliness and 3d6 Straight Down

I've seen some recent discussion in forums about the deadliness of OSR games, both from a positive and a negative perspective. Critics of the OSR claim that the inherent deadliness of these games are a barrier to immersive play since it is hard to get attached or bond with your character knowing any random encounter could take them out. Another argument goes even further, maintaining that systems like this are inherently antagonistic towards players, turning them into grist for the GM's murder mill, meat on an adventure conveyor belt of the GM's design. Such systems, it is said, strip away player agency and rob them of a chance to build the epic stories they wish to partake in.

Of course, while it's possible for bad GM's to run their OSR games this way, I don't think it's inherent in the systems or psychologies of OSR games themselves. For me, as a GM or a player, I like the feeling and flavor of terror. Not terror in the cheap, slapstick horror movie manner, but terror in the sense of life or death stakes. I want to feel unnerved and not fully in control of the story or the outcome of the adventure. If I feel that my player is always going to survive, I'm not going to be as invested because the stakes aren't very high.

I realize my take on this is not the majority opinion. It seems like a lot of players are simply looking for a stage to express themselves through the avatar of their player. That's a completely valid way to play; it's just not for me. However, because a lot of people don't want to feel that sense of terror that I like, the very idea of a game that threatens the lives of their characters automatically becomes something antagonistic.

Modern gaming's solve for this perceived anti-player bias has been a carefully designed system of balanced encounter challenge ratings, and quick character level-advancement with escalating power bloat. This gives only the very fool-hardiest of player a real chance to die by never pitting PCs against something stronger than themselves and giving them an arsenal of special abilities and video game-like combos to defeat the enemy. I could (and still may, someday) write an article on the OSR's combat-as-war versus the New School's combat-as-sport. Instead, what I wanted to focus on here is that first-step in character generation: the rolling of ability scores.

Ability scores are more than just stat blocks that help determine success or failure in encounters. Theyare the foundational pillars of what defines a character. In some ways there is no more effective spring board for character background than the ability scores. They also have a lot influence over a character's chance of survival at low levels before a character gains a lot of special abilities, spells, skills, feats, or magical items. With this in mind, how these scores are generated matter.

In Old School D&D (Basic Fantasy, in my case), ability scores are generated by rolling 3d6 straight-down the line: Strength, Intelligence, Wisdom, Dexterity, Constitution, and Charisma, giving scores ranging between 3-18. Simple right? Well, even in the rules of the old game, there are a host of secondary options all of which have an effect for how strong, smart, wise, agile, etc. your character is. Some of the popular options include rolling 4d6 and dropping the lowest die, rolling six columns of six stats and picking the best, or starting with a base of 8 in every stat and allotting a pool of points wherever desired. There are also methods and rules for freely arranging the scores, evenly swapping a certain number of scores, or dropping one score by two to bump another up by one. All of these methods are usually employed to boost the numbers of player's scores. They don't guarantee superpowered characters, but they greatly decrease the likelihood of truly low scores (but it's possible).

In my current Basic Fantasy campaign I'm running pretty close to RaW. I had my player roll 3d6 straight down and I allowed them to swap a pair of scores as long as one those scores was an intended prerequisite. If the player rolled below 9 in all of the first four (Str, Int, Wis, Dex) I had them re-roll because they wouldn't technically qualify for any class. Also, if the net of their modifiers was negative, they could also re-roll. I like Chris Gonnerman's fix for this, which is to subtract all the scores from 21 which turns the negatives to positives and still creates a balanced character.

I'm pretty happy with this method given my GM style, but something caught my eye when I was perusing my old copy of the original AD&D PHB. On page 9 it mentions that characters without at least two ability scores above 15 risk a low chance of survival. This gave me pause for a couple reasons. First, because I never remembered this from back in the day; and second, because this statement implied that it was recommended (in fact, Gary uses the word "essential") to use a method of generating ability scores that would produce at least two exceptional stats. The deadliness of Old School all of the sudden seemed not so deadly. I finally understood why my PCs were never as studly as the pre-gens in the old modules. A quick scan of the scores of magic items handed out in those adventures also makes those Old School slug-fests not as scary.

I guess what I've decided is for now I will stick with my 3d6 method and my rare magic item games while understanding that my players will need to be extra careful in combat and run often early on if they hope to live. This also means fewer monsters beaten which means fewer XP, which in turn means a longer time before they level up and gain more power. I've hit upon a good XP method that not only rewards for combat and treasure, but also for exploration, clever play, and role-playing. But that's for another post.

GM Notes - Morgansfort Session 1

I just ran my first role-playing game as a DM in 25 years last Saturday night. The four players came to the table with a mix of gaming experience, most of which involved modern systems like Pathfinder and newer editions of D&D (3.5 to 5). I ran Basic Fantasy’s Western Lands campaign from the Morgansfort module. It was a decent-length session, about five hours.

Since these players were new to old school gaming I started the session off by going over the rules and setting some expectations. I explained character generation, the combat sequence, and how to expect non-combat actions and checks to work in the absence of skills and feats. One of the biggest hurdles for them was getting used to not having a central, core mechanic of rolling-over a target number on a d20. OSR gaming’s mixture of roll-over and roll-under mechanics across different dice makes a lot of sense to me because it’s how I learned, but it admittedly isn’t intuitive for newcomers.

I had everyone roll up four new first-level characters, 3d6 straight down for ability scores with one swap allowed as long as one of the scores was the intended prime requisite. It was an adjustment for them to accept a few low scores along with their high ones. I did my best to tell them not to worry about it too much. Everyone’s characters met a minimum viability of a net modifier of zero or higher. I gave everyone max hit points for their race and class without Constitution modifiers. It took longer for them to draw up the characters than I would have liked, but it was a new experience for them and likely was much quicker than what they were used to.

*** If any of my players are reading this, stop now or you will spoil the fun. ***

For anyone unfamiliar with Morgansfort (most people, I imagine), it’s one of the multi-adventure modules published by Basic Fantasy. It follows a familiar military outpost on the edge of civilization setting like Keep on the Borderlands, but the Olde Island Fortress is pretty different than the Caves of Chaos (BF does an homage to that in their Chaotic Caves).  The Olde Island Fortress is the dungeon to the first adventure and is the setting for the Introduction Story featured at the beginning of different sections of the core rulebook.

I made several changes to the adventure, both at the fort and in the island dungeon. I used the NPCs in the fort itself, but just fleshed out their stories, their relationships to each other, and what they want. I did add one NPC, Grelda, a witch currently living at a boathouse I placed on the bank of the river across from the island. For the dungeon, I created an entire ground level floor plan leading down into the dungeon. I also placed an invented monster in the first room, Ghazold, a one-of-a-kind creation of a magic user as mix of a hairy ape with the head of a balding crow. The carnivorous apes in the second level are leftovers from the magician's experiments. Ghazold is hanging upside down chained to the ceiling and may answer PC questions if they ask the right ones. On the whole I stripped out a ton of the monsters from the dungeon including all of the random monster encounters. The dungeon is ultra-deadly with the amount of monsters in there; and I personally feel it’s a bit overpacked for what I wanted to do storywise. I always need to feel like I can justify why the creatures are there and how they coexist with each other. I think the module is intended to be tough and not cleared out all in one shot. The first line of the Introduction Story (and the first line in the core book, period) mentions it was the group’s third trip to the dungeon. I also took out a lot of the treasure and magic items out too. I’m not a big proponent of bags and chests of jewels and gold coins just sitting in basements all over the realm. I want to make magic items a little more rare and special as well.

The biggest change was the background storyline I added. The backstory is that the fortress was a former temple of ancient evil powered through child sacrifice. Years later, after the original Urdish empire conquered the land and then fell, a barbarian clan scoured it and built a huge 60’ wall around the temple to keep out the great plague ravaging the land. Cooped up in their new haunted fortress, the barbarians lost their minds and began sacrificing their children and eating them. The children’s spirits haunt the entire region. People who sleep at the fort (including the PCs) have apocalyptic nightmares about the children unless they go to daily service at the Chapel of St. Basil’s where the head cleric, Father Thelbain, casts a spell over the congregation to shield them from the effects of the haunted spirits. Grelda has been freeing the spirits from the material plane through an arcane ritual which separates them from and collects the essence chaining them to the real world. She uses this essence to charge her garden plow with the power of flight. She does this instead of using the blood of living children. She is sister to Maien Brai, the herbalist at Morgansfort, and aunt to Jyni, Maien’s beautiful 13-year-old daughter who seems to be preternaturally gifted in magic, even at her young age. Jyni is lusted after by Lorynn, the sleazy innkeeper. I also included the beginnings of a plot of a secret cult called the Green Mark, who seek to re-ignite the ancient pre-imperial evil in the region.

I never ran modules as written back in the day. I first approached this one as maybe just a one-shot, but once I started planning for it I got invested in it. Eventually I’ll create my own campaign world, but this is a nice way back into the game. It felt good to GM again. There wasn’t as much rust as I expected. The night ended up great. The PCs didn’t make it far in the dungeon before having to return to the fort to heal, but there was tons of role-playing and everyone began to invest in their characters with brief sketches of backstories. Folks were tired by the end so we decided to start a little earlier next time. One player who has only played 5e D&D really liked the simplicity of the game. He had even bought the Basic Fantasy rule book that week. Hopefully I’ll keep the momentum going. We’ve got a game in another week. I’m keeping my fingers crossed.

                                                                                                                        

Adventure Recap/Synopsis:

Our four characters are Renic the Dwarven Fighter, Pater the Halfling Thief, Melinthil the Elven Cleric, and Nyphus the Human Paladin. Renic is a Dwarven noble who has squandered most of his family’s fortune. Pater is a mischievous trickster. Melinthil has left her elven homeland to go out into the world as her deities Demeter & Persephone would approve. Nymphus is a middle-aged former slave who has risen to rank of a paladin of Poseidon. They know each other through Jochim Kellborn, an escaped-slave smuggler in Slateholm. The party of four left Slateholm heads south for Morgansfort, a military outpost on the borders of the wilderness, on the recommendation of Joachim. Honest work has been hard to come by with a recent influx of escaped slaves working for lower wages, so the characters must turn to adventuring to make their way.

After a few days the group reaches Morgansfort in the late afternoon, at the beginning of autumn. They announce themselves to the clerk at the gate, and pay the monthly tax of 1 sp each (courtesy of Renic). Melinthil acquires accommodations (two rooms) at the Iron Helm Inn for two nights to get settled and pray. The innkeeper, Lorynn, is an older, desperate letch who gives Mel a deal on the rooms despite her mentioning her three “bodyguards.”

The remaining party members enter the Toothless Dragon Tavern next door for a drink and try to start up a game of chance with the locals. The crowd is quiet and reserved (farmers, merchants, soldiers). The barkeep, Garnoth, tells the party that gambling is forbidden in Morgansfort. A round for the house is bought on Renic’s dime to smooth things over and Halden Rathwynn, the Baronet of Morgansfort, introduces himself. When asked for a recommendation for adventuring in the area, he mentions the Olde Island Fortress a mile away towards the river’s opening to the sea. However, he warns them it’s a bit dangerous. He leaves as Mel joins her comrades. They observe the staff of the tavern, Garnoth, his wife Lianna (Lorynn’s sister), and the two serving maids who appear to be their daughters.

That night both Mel and Nyphus have horrible nightmares of children in agonizing pain screaming for their mothers and fathers. Upon waking they consult their deities who indicate that the island fortress they heard about the previous night is the origin of these visions and that the threat there has ancient origins. After telling Pater and Renic about their dreams, they decide to embark for the fortress.

They stop and question Garnoth who is a little less surly with them than the previous night and warns them to stay away from that place (“Are you guys really going down there?”). Renic packs and prepares their supplies; Mel and Nyphus visit the Chapel of St. Queril to speak with Father Thelbain about the visions; and Pater poses as a beggar outside the church. Father Thelbain is patient and helpful to a point, telling the party that others had experienced visions like theirs, but it was rare. Generally these dreams occur to adventurers like themselves, although the old Baron’s (Morgan) wife, Halden’s mother, suffered from such dreams a number of years ago and driving her mad, resulting in her death.

Pater is unlucky in collecting cash as mostly soldiers pass by, as the church sits just outside the fort’s barracks and training grounds. On their way, they observe other fort inhabitants including a pretty girl of about 13 outside an herbalist shop, a smith whose hammer can be heard throughout the horseshoe-shaped square, the stableman and his helpers, storehouse labors, and a mix of local farmers and merchants setting up shop for the day. A different clerk, older, sits in the gatehouse.

Leaving the fort, the party encounters and greets two men in black robes with their cowls raised. The response is curt and perfunctory, bordering on rude. Mel intuits that one of them may be taking a vow of silence. The short 45 minutes journey to the river through the grasslands is uneventful. At the river they find a small house with three docks and three boats in the side yard. A woman exiting the house to work in the garden introduces herself as Grelda. Grelda is perhaps 50, slightly gray, with intelligent eyes. She explains she’s been living in the house for the past several months, but she doesn’t own it. It was just abandoned. The boats aren’t hers either, but she warns the party that if they take a boat to the other shore she will retrieve it at dusk if they haven’t returned. She’s slightly cagey as to why, but she indicates that there are some nasty types who might use the stray boat to cross to her side, and she can’t have that. Not that she couldn’t handle herself, she mentions.

The party crosses the river by boat and portages the small craft up the 45-degree hill and hides it in the underbrush to keep Grelda from finding it, so they don’t get trapped. The group makes a perimeter check. The imposing structure has 60-ft high walls made of huge timbers and petrified clay with one aperture at the front (a 20-ft high and wide arch) facing south. They can see natural light on the other end of the portal 20-ft deep, indicating an open space. As they enter Pater check for traps and find none. Renic makes an architecture check and determines the construction is old and solid throughout, no hollow walls. Nyphus checks to sense if evil is present and finds the entire place radiating evil.

Stepping into the fortress the group is presented with a long and wide colonnade terminating in a ziggurat topped with a stone altar. Classically sculpted columns, fountains, and marble benches filled the central arcade. This area down the middle of the fortress stands in stark contrast to the areas on the right and left which are burned-out, broken-down ruins of wooden structures, mostly cabins and lodges. All of it is old, but the two different styles are obviously of two different eras, the latter being newer.

A small trench runs around the extended, finger-shaped center area, the bottom of which is stained with dark, ancient blood. The basin of the fountain and the ridges of the ziggurat are marked with similar stains. Nyphus inspects the top of the altar, some 45 or 50 feet up. No signs of restraints remain if any ever existed. Searching around the base of the ziggurat, Pater finds an open stairway at the back leading down into the earth. At the top of the stairs a green smudge marks the right-hand stone wall.

The party enters. The stairs go down 10’ to a corridor moving south for about 100’ before turning into a clockwise stairway going down 40’ with landings every 10’. The end of the last staircase opens into a large, diamond-shaped chamber with 30’ ceilings and open passageways to the east, south, and west. Signs of traffic lead to the western passage.

Ghazold

Chains rattle from the ceiling above and a creature comes into view. He is a man-sized hairy ape with the head of a balding crow and cruel, hungry eyes. He is hanging upside down, shackled to the ceiling by his ankles and wrists. He questions the party about who they are. They question him and ask if knows about children who might need help. The creature says that his name is Ghazold and he’s been here for who knows how long (could be years) – ever since that magician left him there. He asks the party, “Which children? There have always been children coming in and out of here.” He then asks if they have any children with them that he could eat. The party moves on westward towards the tracks as Ghazold whines for them to keep their eyes out for the magician’s key to set him free. “He said there was a key to let me out. What’s a key?”

Ten feet down the corridor Pater finds a possible trap on the floor of a new 10’ x 10’ intersection that continues west, as well as open passages to the north and south. The party skirt the middle area and move south. In 10’ the passage opens up into a new 20’ x 20’ chamber. The room is filled with rubble, scraps of cloth and fur, and two dead human bodies which look like they have been desiccated of all blood and fluid. Upon close inspection, a large gaping hole is found on each victim’s neck. The bodies have no treasure.

The party leaves to inspect the passage north. Again, after 10’ the passage opens up into another 20’ x 20’ room. Mewling and dry flapping sounds are heard as they approach. Within the room the party discovers large nests built against the far wall at eye-level. Five bird-like creatures with long, pointed proboscises sleepily crawl out of the nests. Mel kills one. Two of the creatures latch on to the necks of Mel and Nyphus and begin to drain blood. Renic sprays oil in an arc across the floor of the room using Pater’s dropped torch on the floor to ignite it. Two creatures drop from fire damage. Mel and Nyphus kill their attackers before they suck any more blood. Pater hits the last one and it flies off. The fire spreads to the far wall where hatchlings fall out of the nest and die sizzling in the flames.

The party puts out the fire and search the room. They find two identical silver necklaces in amongst the mess. They pick up some of the dead carcasses to give to Ghazold on the way out. They find him bug-eyed with his mouthful of the last creature as it tried to escape. The party leaves the dungeon to heal up and decide what to do next.

UPDATE: For anyone interested, here is a map of my ground level of the Old Island Fortress and a document of keyed text.

Ground Level Map

Ground Level Text