Dawn of Worlds: We are as gooooods

Four of us gathered together with only a pdf of the Dawn of Worlds rules set and a leaf of 15x15 paper, blank but for this outline (or a close variation of it).

That is, if you're interested, a modified drawing of a methane sea on Titan. I'm fond of using interesting natural/extraterrestrial shapes as map outlines.

First things first. As we were supposed to be gods creating this world in our respective images, we thought we'd go a little bit beyond the scope of the rules and give ourselves some spheres of influence. How we came to these spheres was created and decided by the lot of us, and quite neat in my opinion.

Dawn of Worlds divides the timeline into three ages. The First Age is largely land form creation and tends to be very long, with each turn being approximately 500 years. The Second Age is the big time civilization period, with each turn being approximately 100 years. The Third Age is the recent timeline, each turn being anywhere from 1 to 25 years.

We decided that, for the First Age, we would each randomly roll for two spheres of influence. We decided on eight spheres that we thought of as universal enough to be the basis for budding, prehistoric gods.

Light

Darkness

Nature

Death

Wind

Earth

Fire

Water

The combinations were . . . interesting. These were:

Light and Water

Nature and Darkness

Earth and Wind

Death and Fire

I rather liked how this turned out. These are not typical combinations for most gods you find out there. They do, however, set the imagination a'going as to what kind of world this is gonna be. Nature and Darkness? Man. That right there told me that the natural world is probably going to be at least slightly hostile and twisted.   Earth and Sky gives me the image of an Earth Mother sorta goddess. Light and Water? Would not have seen that coming, either. And, of course, Death and Fire (which was rolled up by none other than lil' ole' me). That...that's just awesome. Oh, the mind churns all sorts of wonders that could arise from that!

We would each bear these two spheres for the first age, keeping in "character" with our decisions as we forged the earth. More on that later.

At the turn of the Second Age, we decided each god would, in turn, decide upon a new sphere to give to him/herself. We appraised our actions of the First Age, the results being:

Light and Water and Change

Nature and Darkness and Conquest

Earth and Wind and Strength/Endurance

Death and Fire and Conflict

...it was a mean First Age.

The (highly tumultuous) Second Age came to end, and we decided to add a final sphere to our portfolios. This time, however, the other three gods would decide amongst themselves as to what would be an appropriate sphere. 

Light and Water and Change and Pride

Nature and Darkness and Conquest and Corruption

Earth and Wind and Strength/Endurance and Vengeance

Death and Fire and Conflict and Fertility

...yeah, the rest of the game wasn't much nicer, actually.

Stay tuned for an abridged version of the actual game play, and how we each earned these appellation. Feel free to guess in the meantime.

An Experiment in Collaborative Creation

     I often say to my players that, "if you don't tell me what you like, I'll give you what I like, which may be completely at odds with anything you're remotely into." Left to my own devices, I'm prone making campaign settings filled with needless amounts of historical background, scads of the walking dead, and overwhelmingly gloomy . . . 'cause that's what I'm into. I'm a fan of horror, history, pulp and shlock.

     I've had people go into one of my games, voicing no opinions as to what they'd like to see, and then have them become disinterested and/or drop the game because it wasn't what they were looking for. 

     While I will continue drawing up fantasy worlds at the drop of a hat and for my own pleasure, I've been inspired recently to engage in acts of collaborative world creation with prospective players. The animus for such an idea came from the Dawn of Worlds game (found here) and by the excellent Dogs in the Vineyard (found here).

     To nutshell it, Dawn of Worlds is essentially a game of world creation. You get together some friends (preferably people who'll be playing in this setting), pretend to be gods for a few hours, and use a turn based point system to build a world up from a blank map outline to a thriving campaign setting. A campaign setting where the players all know the history of the world. A setting where the players themselves have an emotional investment because they built a good portion of it. Dogs mainly inspires me here by way of its "say yes or roll dice" philosophy. Don't stifle player creativity because it may not fit into your image of things. It's their game, too, after all.

     A few weeks ago (sorry for the lack of updates, O my public), I introduced members of my university geek club to the idea. They chomped at the bit for an opportunity to engage in the experiment. I'll be making a series of posts recalling the results and the findings of the experiment shortly.

The Origin of Species

In my mind, the idea of dozens of sentient species all sprouting up around each other on the same planet doesn't necessarily make a whole lot of sense. Look oat our own. Several precursors, several pretenders to our throne of dominance that we either ate or mated with, and we're the latter day result. Numerous racial divisions exist, but we are all homo sapiens. Bipedal, omnivorous mammals that have proven to be highly adaptable to whatever surroundings we happen to wander into. That's why humans are all over the damned map, even in otherwise uninhabitable areas. We're tough suckers with a stubborn streak a mile long. No other being on Earth comes close. Arts, crafts, language, thought, and society separate us from the beasts of the wild. We are alone on this blue marble.

Since we pretty much killed or humped our opposition into oblivion, it seems unlikely that other higher life forms would rise to the same level at the same time.  This also points to the idea that everyone "close" to doing so was of the same genus ( Homo erectus, Neanderthals, etc). Are "demi" humans just other homo species? That could make sense. Add magic to the mutation mix and I could see hominids splitting off into wild directions to match their environment. And that would explain why most look vaguely similar and why crossbreeding is possible. Using this idea, perhaps these could all come from the same planet and from the same common ancestor. 

But what of other sapients? Mind Flayers and aboleths and beholders and so on? Well, we can always make those bizarre aliens from deep space, no problem. Prehistorical monstrosities from beyond time and space make me happy, anyway.

Perhaps animal-human hybrids (like raven men (kenku), lizardfolk, frogfolk, etc) are the result of mad science. That would work. Again, it would explain why so many beast-men types are at least somewhat cosmetically similar to men. How many monsters are just 1/2 man and 1/2 other thing, anyway? Lots and lots and lots.

Still, in line with the likes of Conan, I like the idea that certain races are bizarre precursors, strange leftovers from a previous time. Ancient people who's civilizations are long fallen, who dwell in weird lands that eschew humanity. Yuan-ti and kuo-toa for a D&D example.

But, if the races are not so closely related, it would make sense if each races started on its own native world, where it evolved in just such a way to meet its own needs. Elfkin could hale from a light, airy world, low on gravity, clean, splendid, and bursting with magic. Dwarves could originate from a hostile high gravity world whose toxic surface forced them underground. The home world of the goliaths could be a vast, rocky land of thin air and unbelievably vast mountain peaks. Halflings could have originated on a small moon, fertile and forested, with enough bad things to encourage roaming and higher gravity to encourage short growth...or they're short to discourage giant beasties from eating them.

Halflings are the ewoks of D&D. Think about that.

I like both origin ideas. I like when things make some manner of logical sense, instead of "poof, a god did it." (Sure, I'm planning on creating such a setting with some people, but that's beside the point...) Sadly, both origins don't particularly work at the same time. Both explanations would, however, point a related campaign in a different direction, making for some interesting background material.

The first option (interrelatedness of humanoid sapients) leads me to think of an ancient, cosmopolitan world of super science. Ethics issues ("we've created all these beast folk and they're kinda pissed that we treat 'em badly...who knew?" "The warforged want rights again? Can't those jerks just be happy we give them jobs?"), religious issues ("If you made us, what is "god?") could arise. Truly ancient racial rivalries could arise, not unlike our own world.

Maybe civilization has risen only to fall again in a cycle so that the origins of each is shrouded in the annals a a lost Golden Age?

The second idea (otherworldly origins for all) points me towards a Star Wars like Spelljammer setting . . . or, perhaps the remnants of one. What are all these species doing on this one lonely planet? What happened to their home worlds? Did a doom of epic proportions befall the solar system? Did sudden competition for resources arise?

Both settings could have a Great Age. Both could just as easily lie in ruins. I do have a special fondness for ruining a perfectly good world . . . .

[RPG Blog Carnival] "What Inspires Your Games?"

From the very nice Campaign Mastery comes the titular topic of discussion.

Specifically, "what non-game media has inspired your game and how?"

While I can easily trot out any number of novels, fantasy and otherwise, or point to a  selection of films that I've filed free of their serial numbers, these don't have quite the depth of material to plumb as our world's own written history.

As a history major, I'm sure that I'm biased. However, the fact that our history is so chock full of madness, murder, and monstrosity, of political maneuvering, quid pro quo and backstabbing, that there is more than enough material to contribute to any number of campaigns from here to eternity.

Let no one tell you that history is boring. History is nuts. It's full of epic tales and heroes and villains, each one more brilliant or mad or zealous than the last.

Need a passionate leader to stir up the common man against rapacious nobility? Look no further than Father Hidalgo of old Mexico. I could probably put together an entire campaign from his history, changing only names and locations.

Need a setting? I like to mix various places from the past into a blender with another culture or a novel/film/lone idea and see what happens. For example, I had an idea that involved mixing Pre-Tzarist Russia and The Pirates of Dark Water. Instead of one vast rocky wilderness, break up the continent into a massive archipelago ruled by a horde of petty princes, where life is only worth a blood price, and replace the horsemen Mongol invaders with a massive fleet of pirates. Bam. Skeleton of an idea. Could be fun.

The plots and personalities of history can be skewed and reinvented in a practically infinite number of ways. I can and do appropriate history for settings, the people who live in those settings, their cultures, and the plots that drive them.

Formative Canon

My parents, bless 'em, were a lax sort in some ways. They didn't police my interests, religious views, or television/film viewing. They trusted me to see after myself in such things. Also, when I was a young fella, they were under the impression that, if something was animated, it was meant for kids. An idea which we of the Internet know is not remotely true.

Therefore, I was permitted to see and delve into a variety of strange things in my formative years that helped mold me into the goofily sardonic headcase that I am today.

Ralph Bakshi's Wizards is a far flung future Earth, millions of years after a nuclear holocaust. What remains of mankind are twisted abominations wracked with radiation. With mankind gone, the magical folk that ditched the scene after Technology won the world started waking up and engaging in lots of magical hippy activity. Two wizardly twin brothers are born, one a kind, handsome fellow, the other a hateful cadaver-lookin' sucker. Oddly enough, they end up wanting to kill each other. Happy bro turns to peace, love, and Magic, while Scary Spice turns to demons, Nazis, and Technology. That's right. Undead Nazis. I was watching undead Nazis kill elves and fairies and stuff at the age of three.

Hell yeah.

Sure, the underlying message is kinda head slapping, but the world is bizarre and captivating. It was an early example of walking dead folks, truly vile villains, and a rare fantasy world without humans mucking about.

The film version of The Last Unicorn was on a pretty constant rotation for me when I was a kid. I found the music catchy (because I dig 70s band America, apparently), and the animation was beautiful for the time. The company Lord Grade produced the film - they're mostly known for a bunch of holiday specials back in the day. They did their work in English, but they hired out Japanese animators. So this is some sort of quasi anime. Anyway, the all-star cast portray a fairy tale of the last remaining unicorn trying to find her sisters. She meets an incompetent wizard, Misses Lovette the witch, a sad ex-virgin, a handsome prince, and Christopher Lee being Christopher Lee. This one also features a sentient skeleton guarding a secret, demanding a bottle of wine before he'll give up his knowledge.

"But you're dead! You can't taste wine, can't smell it!"

"But I can remember . . . "

Ah, dead people.

It's a wistful, bittersweet film, and the novel is even more so. It is beautiful and sad - a world of crumbling magic and legends where "there are no happy endings, because nothing ever ends."

Ghostbusters. Film and cartoon. Dead people everywhere. The cartoon featured an Apocalypse episode and a Cthulhu episode (my first encounter with the big guy and one of my favorite episodes as a kid).

Add the Rankin and Bass animated version of the Hobbit and I think that about covers my formatives.

One of the greatest fantasy tales ever told, a bittersweet story about unicorns, a risque post apocalyptic fantasy, ghosts and snarky protagonists. Shows and films that I would watch over and over and over again.

On Fourth Edition and Girl Genius.

I didn't care for either when I first checked them out. However, time and circumstance has sent me back into the edition fray, and a lark brought me back to Girl Genius.

I've been doing this whole gaming thing for almost twenty years. I was leery about switching from my beloved AD&D 2nd edition and from the adored TSR in favor of those card pushing fancy boys over at Wizards of the Coast and their 3rd Edition. I remember standing in the local comic shop overhearing how higher AC was new nomenclature and being filled with righteous indignation. ( "No THAC0? What is this demonry!?" ) Feats? Double Bladed Orc axes? What is this crap?

I got over it. I got over it, adapted, blew the dust off of my Planescape Boxed set, picked up the fantastic Iron Kingdoms setting, and had many a good time rolling twenties and never shedding a tear for THAC0. Then . . . then 4e came out. Oh, the weeping and gnashing of teeth. Fortunately, I missed most of that nonsense. I don't think that the game somehow damages the role playing factor. Sure, the combat feels less like "this is my gentle slayer guy" and more like a a board game or, dare I say, HeroQuest, but everyone's more useful than before. I can't stand the new fluff, but that's easily remedied.

Besides the board game aspect, my biggest issue was the spirit of the PCs themselves.  The PC of 4e is set a world apart from the average person. Certainly, PCs in D&D have always been powerful, comparatively speaking, but the PC of 4e is downright superhuman. In 2nd edition, a 1st level mage was had only one spell per day and, after blowing that, was at the mercy of a lone kobold. Or a house cat. Or a stiff wind. Compared to earlier editions, the 1st level 4e wizard is a monster. At will powers that never go away, an encounter power that "refills" every encounter, AND a spell that can be cast every day. And a load of hit points to boot. The two just don't compare.

This, at first, was a turn off to me. Too much. Too much like World of Warcraft (cooldowns? the devil! harumph!), too much reliance on the map grid (slip sliding bollocks), too superhuman PCs.  The first two issues dissolved for me when I realized that, A, I use a map anyway and I should quit bitching, and (B), it's a different game. It's not 3.5. Things change. Don't be a conservative NeckBeard.  The superhuman problem, however, dangled over my sense of realism like that blasted blade that kept bothering that Damocles guy.

This is where Girl Genius comes in.

Girl Genius, if you aren't aware, is a delightful comic by the highly skilled Phil Foglio. He has created a wonderful world, parallel to our own, steeped in "Gaslamp Romance," which is similar to steampunk.  It's funny. It's weird. It's gold.  Now, how this ties in with 4e for me is that the power players of the world, called "Sparks," are, in every way, superior to the common man. They command respect.  They are ridiculously powerful. They have massive egos. They are also targets, both socially and politically. To the Powers that Be, they are problems. These are the people that would be kings. If there's a powerful Spark in town, the local lord is gonna be falling all over himself to cajole, control, or kill this upstart, because there's a good chance that the new guy is gonna wreck the local lord's shit. They are the Big Damn Heroes. Or Big Damn Villains, whatever the case may be.

Interesting. Immediately, since everything apparently comes back to gaming, 4e came to mind. This, to me, frames how I should be looking at Fourth Edition. The PC is the equivalent of a Spark. A Grecian Hero. A mover and a shaker who will, if he lives, soon have people wanting to be on his good side, sliding a knife into his back, or writing incredibly puffed up and ribald operas exploring his exploits.

Thanks for the idea, Mr. Foglio.

Seriously. Wherefore Elves?

The more I think about it, the monster races are so much more keen than the ye standards. I'd rather have a party of kobolds, kenku, lizardmen, half giants, and, of course, the walking dead than yet another enigmatic elven archer or a halfling burglar.   Or kender. Man, #$%^ a kender.

Think about it. You're a member of a race that has, since time immemorial, engaged in raids and counter raids with each other and other humanoids( I'm going with a Dungeoncraft-like assumption of fantasy being similar to the Grecian classical age, here. ). Not only that, but your defenses are routinely toppled not by armies, but by teams of five people. After a while, it might seem like a good idea to integrate with polite society. Society evolves, after all.

I think it'd be more interesting to integrate "monstrous" humanoids into the cosmopolitan society of the Prime Material Plane along with, even instead of, the standard races. Kobold families running combination donut shop and security kiosks. Minotaur bouncers. Gnoll woodsmen earning an honest living for once. Or maybe dishonest . . . just like everyone else.

Worked for Iron Kingdoms. Worked well, too. Sure, they kept elves and dwarves (and made them very rare on the mainland, might I add), but added goblins and their own versions of trolls and ogres. These guys face heavy prejudice and are often relegated to ghettos and specific job types. Interesting stuff. Could see integrating that into a game for other monsters. May give it a shot, soon.