Body Snatchers (d12)
1. Astral Searcher
2. Doppelganger
3. Enveloper
4. Ghost
5. Haunt
6. Imorph
7. Intellect Devourer
8. Magic Jarred by evil wizard
9. Magnesium Spirit
10. Vagabond
11. Yellow Musk Creeper
12. Zygom
Sinners in the Hands of an Angry DM (d8)
1. Bookworm
2. Crypt Thing
3. Disenchanter
4. Gremlinb
5. Hound of Ill Omen
6. Little Blue Bolts of Lightning shooting directly at characters' heads
7. Nilbog
8. Rust Monster
Ooze Rainbow (d30)
1. Black Pudding
2. Black Slimea
3. Black Were-Ooze (Fool's Banea)
4. Blue Slimea
5. Brown Mold
6. Brown Pudding
7. Crumblera
8. Crystal Ooze
9. Denzelian
10. Dun Pudding
11. Emerald Oozea
12. Gelatinous Cube
13. Gibbering Mouther
14. Glafta
15. Gold Slimea
16. Gray Ooze
17. Green Slime
18. Lava Oozeb
19. Mustard Jelly
20. Ocher Were-Jellya
21. Ochre Jelly
22. Olive Slime
23. Russet Mold
24. Silver Slimea
25. Slithering Tracker
26. Stunjelly
27. Symbiotic Jelly
28. White Pudding
29. White Slimea
30. Yellow Mold
The Walls Have XP (2d8)
2. Protein Polymorph ("They may
imitate anything from a pile of treasure to small-sized room, to a party
of half dozen humans or a dozen kobolds.")
3. Cloaker ("Black
eyespots cover its back like buttons on a cloak, and when the tail is
hidden it is almost impossible to distinguish from a real cloak.")
4. Living Statueb (Amusingly, the Rules Compendium hints, "Not
every statue in a campaign should be a living statue. If every statue in
a campaign is a living statue, PCs will know that any statue they see
can attack them.")
5. Stunjelly
6. Gold Bug
7. Bowler
8. Lurker Above
9. Mimic
10. Trapper
11. Piercer
12. Kampfult ("[A]ppearing to be ropes or a net, the monster surprises the unwary.")
13. Roper ("These monsters can stand upright in order to resemble a pillar or stalagmite or flatten themselves at full length upon the floor so as to look like nothing more than a hump." A hump of ropes...?)
14. Free-roaming animated object (e.g. broom, table, dagger...or rope. Look, you just shouldn't trust ropes is all.)
15. Storoper ("appears to be a small statue of a roper," lol.)
16. Wandering Pit
a: Arduin
b: BECMI
Showing posts with label funny?. Show all posts
Showing posts with label funny?. Show all posts
Saturday, October 4, 2014
Thursday, April 1, 2010
Digby the Toematurge
Something foolish for April, originally written for the sadly moribund Lexicon of Vanth.
Ptolemy "Digby" Digicarpus (1245-1321 Blackhawk Municipal Calendar) was a master warlock, champion speed-walker and the sole inventor of the toematurgical arts. Though he is considered a somewhat pedestrian figure by most modern historians of magic, the "Ten Toes of Digby" are still widely circulated and invoked by practicing warlocks.
A brief review of his career in toto shows Digby's treadmarks all across the lands of Vanth. Quite literally, in fact, as Digby is generally considered to be the only person to circumnavigate known Vanth by walking (a feat which is now highly improbable due to the collapse of the Great Salt Bridge into what is now known as the Salty Bay). In the months after his return to the City of Blackhawk, bedridden with crippling calluses, Digby researched the telemorphic spell Big Step, a variation of The Walking Boots of Sinotroan Nine Zed designed for long-distance locomotion.
Once his calluses healed, an incognito Digby shoehorned his way into a band of adventurers intent on digging up the bones of the dracotyrannoid Parathraxus Rex. Sadly, the paleontological raiding party fell afoul of the giant Klawfoot Kloot, and none but Digby returned from the journey. He devoted himself thereafter to spell research and Blackhawk's underground extreme speed-walking leagues. Ostensibly retired from adventuring, Digby was still a fixture at the annual Blackhawk Dungeon Crawl, Walk or Run, competing in the Ten Level division to the last.
For all his accomplishments, Digby came to an ignominious end. Invited to a charity dance contest, the septuagenarian warlock instead found himself in a disco duel with the henchmen of the sinister duckoid psi-knight Quincunx du Mallard. Too proud to admit defeat, Digby matched every move of Sheikh LeFreak and Deney 3PO,1 but sprained his ankle attempting a reverse gravity electric slide. Exhausted and lamed, Digby was trapped in a mirror mind globe by the black-brained du Mallard and forced to dance himself to death.
Simon Blotto, Scribe of the Grand Library of Morgendorgen
1. Additional henchmen of Quincunx du Mallard include Vinnie Mallardino, Cha-Ka Khan & the Fever Knight.
Ptolemy "Digby" Digicarpus (1245-1321 Blackhawk Municipal Calendar) was a master warlock, champion speed-walker and the sole inventor of the toematurgical arts. Though he is considered a somewhat pedestrian figure by most modern historians of magic, the "Ten Toes of Digby" are still widely circulated and invoked by practicing warlocks.
A brief review of his career in toto shows Digby's treadmarks all across the lands of Vanth. Quite literally, in fact, as Digby is generally considered to be the only person to circumnavigate known Vanth by walking (a feat which is now highly improbable due to the collapse of the Great Salt Bridge into what is now known as the Salty Bay). In the months after his return to the City of Blackhawk, bedridden with crippling calluses, Digby researched the telemorphic spell Big Step, a variation of The Walking Boots of Sinotroan Nine Zed designed for long-distance locomotion.
Once his calluses healed, an incognito Digby shoehorned his way into a band of adventurers intent on digging up the bones of the dracotyrannoid Parathraxus Rex. Sadly, the paleontological raiding party fell afoul of the giant Klawfoot Kloot, and none but Digby returned from the journey. He devoted himself thereafter to spell research and Blackhawk's underground extreme speed-walking leagues. Ostensibly retired from adventuring, Digby was still a fixture at the annual Blackhawk Dungeon Crawl, Walk or Run, competing in the Ten Level division to the last.
For all his accomplishments, Digby came to an ignominious end. Invited to a charity dance contest, the septuagenarian warlock instead found himself in a disco duel with the henchmen of the sinister duckoid psi-knight Quincunx du Mallard. Too proud to admit defeat, Digby matched every move of Sheikh LeFreak and Deney 3PO,1 but sprained his ankle attempting a reverse gravity electric slide. Exhausted and lamed, Digby was trapped in a mirror mind globe by the black-brained du Mallard and forced to dance himself to death.
Simon Blotto, Scribe of the Grand Library of Morgendorgen
1. Additional henchmen of Quincunx du Mallard include Vinnie Mallardino, Cha-Ka Khan & the Fever Knight.
Friday, May 1, 2009
My Brain Hurts A Lot
So, I've been listening mostly to Bowie while drawing dungeon maps this week. This morning I got to wondering if I shouldn't throw a magician called Niddala Zane in there or something. Idly pondering the words "Ziggy Stardust...."
...led me to think about Ziggy....
...and Zardoz...
...which is what led to this:
MP3: The Moog Cookbook,Ziggy Stardust (Compact Disc - Download)
...led me to think about Ziggy....
...and Zardoz...
...which is what led to this:
MP3: The Moog Cookbook,
Monday, April 27, 2009
Friday, February 27, 2009
Frog & Toad Are Fiends: An Amphibious Top 10
When he wasn't pretending to pop out an eyeball and eat it, my dad used to recite, in tones of solemn gravitas belied by the glee in his eyes, the following poem:
Walkin' down the roadSo if I grew up warped it was nurture, not nature.
Saw a big fat toad
Guts layin' all over the tar
Musta been hit by a big ol' car
10. Firetoad It's a giant toad that spits fireballs. Pedestrian.
9. Blindheim It's a man-toad with high beams. Peculiar.
8. Grippli Tree frog men, because D&D never tires of piling on more intelligent humanoids! I mix these guys up in my head with the fiddling grigs featured on the same page of the Monster Manual II, resulting in musical frogs whose piping song lulls and confuses travelers.
7. Muckdweller It's a salamander that squirts a blinding stream of muddy water. Pah-tooey! They are lawful evil, and sometimes consort with generally neutral lizard men. I imagine them as sinister tempters, encouraging the lizard men's hunger for human flesh...
6. Type II Demon (Hezrou) The toad demon is iconic to be sure, but it’s nowhere near as memorable as Types I and III-VI. It lacks pizazz.
5. Ice Toad I was ready to plunk these down at 9 or so: giant toad, blast of cold, OK, OK. But what’s this? "The ice toads have their own weird language?" Now I wonder what they’re up to, croaking and ribbiting in the eldritch glow of the northern lights...
4. Killer Frog Froggie went a killin’ and he did ride, hey hey. And, please note, they are "specially bred mutants. Only their cannibalistic habits keep them from becoming common and thus a real threat."
3. Bullywug It’s the name, really. Say it out loud three or four times and it’ll have you grinning. It’s like a novelty song from the 50s. At the same time, imagine the fracas a squad of these guys could cause, marching out of a bog in a frigging frog phalanx, with spearmen hopping over the shield wall to attack the party’s backline. Not the Hully Gully, not the Frug – good golly it’s the Bullywug!
2. Slaad The slaadi might make it onto my actual, not joking around top ten monster list. When I write that up maybe I’ll have something more intellectual to say. But honestly, one reason why I liked them so much as a kid? They’re freaky froggin’ bad asses! Spell abilities out the croakhole! Two-handed magic swords! One of them lays eggs in you! One of them has claws like Wolverine!
1. Froghemoth The slaadi might have the real ultimate power of the toad monster world, but the froghemoth has Zowie. Gygaxian naturalism is a beautiful thing, to be sure. But sometimes you have to tell naturalism of any stripe to take a flying leap into the phantasmagorical, as Gygax himself demonstrated with this beautiful monstrosity.
Saturday, November 29, 2008
A month since my last post...
...and I get inspired by Scott at WOD&D to stat up a sleazebag, drug-addled, disease ridden squirrel? My muse, she is a strange one.
Todd T Squirrel:
Drug runner (3),
Handy with a shank (3),
Frikkin' awesome van (3),
STD vector (2).
Hook: Death wish
(With apologies to Chris Onstad)
Thursday, October 30, 2008
Carcosa Revised. Again.
The fires raging over Geoffrey McKinney's Carcosa have mostly died out, aside from a few pyros still stoking flames here and there. I haven't yet gotten a copy myself, so I won't comment on its content aside from saying that the cool parts sound cool and the squicky parts sound squicky.
Part of my hesitation is indecision. I'm not sure which version to get. There's the original and its blasphemous rituals, as well as a forthcoming revision which redacts the grisly details of Carcosan sorcery. And just this morning I learned about yet another version:
A Bold New Take on the World of Carcosa
First came the controversial original. Then came The Expurgation. But now comes the most shocking Carcosa yet. Can you survive the horror, the madness, the hours of fun and laughter that is....
"Summon the Adjective Ones: This number-hour ritual can be completed only on a adjective related to weather night. The sorcerer must obtain the kind of food found only in ruined kind of shop, plural of the Snake-Men. The sacrifice is a noun number years old with noun. The sorcerer, after partaking of the kind of food, must verb the sacrifice number times, afterwards verb-ing it with its own noun. As it verb-s, 10-100 of the Adjective Ones will verb out of the mists."
(I accept all blame, but this post is probably where I got the idea.)
Part of my hesitation is indecision. I'm not sure which version to get. There's the original and its blasphemous rituals, as well as a forthcoming revision which redacts the grisly details of Carcosan sorcery. And just this morning I learned about yet another version:
A Bold New Take on the World of Carcosa
First came the controversial original. Then came The Expurgation. But now comes the most shocking Carcosa yet. Can you survive the horror, the madness, the hours of fun and laughter that is....
Carcosa Mad Libs
"Summon the Adjective Ones: This number-hour ritual can be completed only on a adjective related to weather night. The sorcerer must obtain the kind of food found only in ruined kind of shop, plural of the Snake-Men. The sacrifice is a noun number years old with noun. The sorcerer, after partaking of the kind of food, must verb the sacrifice number times, afterwards verb-ing it with its own noun. As it verb-s, 10-100 of the Adjective Ones will verb out of the mists."
(I accept all blame, but this post is probably where I got the idea.)
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
As close to political as I'll ever get...
In the wake of Sarah Palin's stumbling interview with Katy Couric, the McCain camp accused Couric of "trap door" questions.
I'd be more confident in a Vice Presidential candidate that had the sense to pack a ten foot pole.
I'd be more confident in a Vice Presidential candidate that had the sense to pack a ten foot pole.
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Dire Shark Week: Luchadorodon Carcharias
Don't blame me. I don't pretend to be any great shakes as an artist. But when an idea like this gets stuck in my head, who else is going to draw it? It's crowded enough in here without shark luchadores doing back flips all up in my dome.
At least this time I get to share the blame, since this was entirely inspired by gremlin curator Berin Kinsman. Not only is it Dire Shark Week at Uncle Bear, but he's recently commented on the lack of wrestlers in Encounter Critical. And thus El Sharko was born. He's not here to make friends, chum, and if you act fishy he'll school ya.
And hey, why shouldn't Encounter Critical have wrestlers? Let's take care of that right now. Never let it be said that I don't put the bomp in the bomp-shoo-bomp:
The Wrestler Subclass
Wrestler is the class of grapplers, heels, prettyboys, luchadores and hookers (the ones that aren't doxies, that is). They are specialized in unarmed fighting and working a crowd. They are the same as Warriors save the following differences:
They do not receive a bonus to ranged attacks, and cannot wear armor. The wrestler uses the standard melee attack bonus usually only to unarmed attacks, or for improvised weapons such as chairs, tables and heavy championship belts. They get a bonus to hit points equal to their level. They also get a bonus to their Saving Throws of double their level representing dodging ability and toughness. Finally they receive 5 percentile points per level to distribute among Crowd Manipulate, Great Feat, Lesser Feat, Mistaken ID, Restore Courage, Survival and Saving Throw.
A wrestler's greatest ability is his or her Finisher skill. This is a special attack percentile for the wrestler's signature move, such as a spinning back fist, pile driver, leaping flip kick and so on. (The wrestler character should create a unique name for each Finisher move.) If successful the Finisher attack scores double damage, but if it misses the wrestler loses his or her next attack. Finisher chances are 30% at first level and increase by 5% per level thereafter.
At least this time I get to share the blame, since this was entirely inspired by gremlin curator Berin Kinsman. Not only is it Dire Shark Week at Uncle Bear, but he's recently commented on the lack of wrestlers in Encounter Critical. And thus El Sharko was born. He's not here to make friends, chum, and if you act fishy he'll school ya.
And hey, why shouldn't Encounter Critical have wrestlers? Let's take care of that right now. Never let it be said that I don't put the bomp in the bomp-shoo-bomp:
The Wrestler Subclass
Wrestler is the class of grapplers, heels, prettyboys, luchadores and hookers (the ones that aren't doxies, that is). They are specialized in unarmed fighting and working a crowd. They are the same as Warriors save the following differences:
They do not receive a bonus to ranged attacks, and cannot wear armor. The wrestler uses the standard melee attack bonus usually only to unarmed attacks, or for improvised weapons such as chairs, tables and heavy championship belts. They get a bonus to hit points equal to their level. They also get a bonus to their Saving Throws of double their level representing dodging ability and toughness. Finally they receive 5 percentile points per level to distribute among Crowd Manipulate, Great Feat, Lesser Feat, Mistaken ID, Restore Courage, Survival and Saving Throw.
A wrestler's greatest ability is his or her Finisher skill. This is a special attack percentile for the wrestler's signature move, such as a spinning back fist, pile driver, leaping flip kick and so on. (The wrestler character should create a unique name for each Finisher move.) If successful the Finisher attack scores double damage, but if it misses the wrestler loses his or her next attack. Finisher chances are 30% at first level and increase by 5% per level thereafter.
Thursday, August 21, 2008
Gaming out the Earholes
Been a little quiet this month at Malevolent & Benign. Can't help but feel a little guilty (how vain, right?) but I guess that's what RSS feeds are for.
Truth is, my muse has deserted me. She was all like "You don't appreciate me" and I was all "Is this about that thing with Calliope? We were drunk, and nothing happened" and she was all, "Well Melpomene has a different story" and I was all like "I need to work on my writing" and she was "Oooh, your writing? You mean your blog? The Diary of a Mad Geekboy?" and I was "I can't believe you said that" and she was "Damn right I said it. You think you're Gary damn Gygax or something?" and I was "I need my space" and then she totally went off on me in Greek and moved out to stay with her sisters.
Well, no, nothing like that really. Just too busy with gaming stuff to write much about gaming stuff:
...and you know what? It's awesome. I feel like a real live gamer.
P.S. I just won a copy of Arduin Grimoire #1 this afternoon, literally (and by literally I don't mean figuratively) in the last 10 seconds of the auction! Rawk!
Truth is, my muse has deserted me. She was all like "You don't appreciate me" and I was all "Is this about that thing with Calliope? We were drunk, and nothing happened" and she was all, "Well Melpomene has a different story" and I was all like "I need to work on my writing" and she was "Oooh, your writing? You mean your blog? The Diary of a Mad Geekboy?" and I was "I can't believe you said that" and she was "Damn right I said it. You think you're Gary damn Gygax or something?" and I was "I need my space" and then she totally went off on me in Greek and moved out to stay with her sisters.
Well, no, nothing like that really. Just too busy with gaming stuff to write much about gaming stuff:
- Playing in a semi-biweekly 3.whatever cum Pathfinder game (character: Runt, obese half-orc wizard with a 5 Strength). Fun, if a bit loosey goosey, but...
- ...the DM just invited me to his main group, playing a 1st through 3rd edition hybrid, starting this weekend. I'm pretty excited about that.
- In addition, I'm in the excellent PbP game Scott/Driver's been writing about at Wilderlands OD&D (character: Wiskbat Tinker, stinky goat-footed elf)
- And just today I took over an Encounter Critical PbP we've been trying to start up. The Journey Master has been incommunicado for a week, so I did as Thrazar would, seizing the game by the lapels and lashing myself to the reins. Into the great blue yonder, wahooo!
...and you know what? It's awesome. I feel like a real live gamer.
P.S. I just won a copy of Arduin Grimoire #1 this afternoon, literally (and by literally I don't mean figuratively) in the last 10 seconds of the auction! Rawk!
Friday, August 15, 2008
A Useless Post
Blogging on a Friday afternoon is pretty useless, especially the weekend of GenCon. But hey nonny nonny and what the hell. Storyteller of Beneath the Screen posted notes on a not-quite-cursed magical garment, the Robe of Useless Items. Cursed magical treasures seem to have faded from the official versions of D&D in the last couple editions, and that's a shame. Pranking players with tricky magical items is a great way to mess with their expectations. So I salute the spirit of Storyteller's post.
He asked for suggestions for a Greater Robe of Useless Items, and I'm happy to oblige:
Bottomless Inkpot and Stylus, filled, naturally, with invisible ink and requiring some unreasonably rare, costly and/or dangerous substance to reveal the writing.
Bronze Dog: When commanded to Sit, this bronze statuette animates into an enormous mastiff. The dog is untrained, and gentle as a kitten. Any efforts at training the creature as a mount or war dog will be doomed as it reverts to bronze each evening and forgets all it learned. It can be taught basic tricks like rolling over, begging or shaking hands -- but not fetch.
Nesting-Box of Holding: A simple metal coffer which is entirely filled up by a slightly smaller Box of Holding, which contains a still smaller Box, and so forth. Each box collapses with a loud clatter on removal of the box within.
Strumpet Trumpet: When sounded, this serpentine horn plays a lewd wah-wah ditty, summoning 2-5 ladies of ill repute (or hustlers of unwholesome habit, as you like it) who will loudly proposition all and sundry, insulting those who refuse their advances (and rolling those who yield to them for all the coin they have). Repeated soundings of the horn or any assault on the strumpets summons their pander, a fearsome efreet.
Xeno's Rope, a coil of sturdy rope capable of extending to just short of whatever length is needed.
He asked for suggestions for a Greater Robe of Useless Items, and I'm happy to oblige:
Bottomless Inkpot and Stylus, filled, naturally, with invisible ink and requiring some unreasonably rare, costly and/or dangerous substance to reveal the writing.
Bronze Dog: When commanded to Sit, this bronze statuette animates into an enormous mastiff. The dog is untrained, and gentle as a kitten. Any efforts at training the creature as a mount or war dog will be doomed as it reverts to bronze each evening and forgets all it learned. It can be taught basic tricks like rolling over, begging or shaking hands -- but not fetch.
Nesting-Box of Holding: A simple metal coffer which is entirely filled up by a slightly smaller Box of Holding, which contains a still smaller Box, and so forth. Each box collapses with a loud clatter on removal of the box within.
Strumpet Trumpet: When sounded, this serpentine horn plays a lewd wah-wah ditty, summoning 2-5 ladies of ill repute (or hustlers of unwholesome habit, as you like it) who will loudly proposition all and sundry, insulting those who refuse their advances (and rolling those who yield to them for all the coin they have). Repeated soundings of the horn or any assault on the strumpets summons their pander, a fearsome efreet.
Xeno's Rope, a coil of sturdy rope capable of extending to just short of whatever length is needed.
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
My Life as an Axe and Other Tales from the Sixth Grade
Noisms of Monsters & Manuals and SirLarkins of RPG Corner have both posted today about the dearth of truly excellent RPG fiction. I have nothing to add to that conversation -- aside from one Dragonlance book and the odd short story in Dragon I haven't read any fiction with direct RPG connections (though once or twice in my feverish youth I wrote my own game inspired short stories).
However, on the subject of the campaign background stories he wrote as a teenager, Noisms commented, "Most of them involved lots of severed limbs, blood...if I remember correctly." That sounds awful familiar. Only my stories weren't written for gaming purposes. No, they were for the creative writing unit in my 6th grade class at St. Joseph Elementary. I'm proud to say that with the stirring tale "My Life as an Axe" I single-handedly kick-started a fad among my classmates for violent splatter-gore. For a few weeks a classroom full of Catholic kids in tasteful uniforms was churning out head-chopping, vein-ripping, blood-spraying mayhem like we were auditioning for Fangoria. That we got to read our two page murderfests aloud in formal presentations only spurred us on.
To her credit our teacher handled it with utter composure. Never once was she ruffled, not even when the chirpy Summer (or was it her twin sister Daydream?) read aloud a tale that featured an unlucky time traveler getting bitten in half by a tyrannosaurus (I was extremely annoyed that the T. rex picked up its meal with its forearms before chomping it. I'm certain you will sympathize.). No, the late Mrs. Matasky tolerated our grade school Grand Guignol with mild amusement and a deflating unflappability. If she was shocked or disgusted by us she was far too stern and savvy to let on, and put the whole craze to a stop one afternoon by calmly instructing us to find a different subject. We did; we knew better than to test her patience.
However, on the subject of the campaign background stories he wrote as a teenager, Noisms commented, "Most of them involved lots of severed limbs, blood...if I remember correctly." That sounds awful familiar. Only my stories weren't written for gaming purposes. No, they were for the creative writing unit in my 6th grade class at St. Joseph Elementary. I'm proud to say that with the stirring tale "My Life as an Axe" I single-handedly kick-started a fad among my classmates for violent splatter-gore. For a few weeks a classroom full of Catholic kids in tasteful uniforms was churning out head-chopping, vein-ripping, blood-spraying mayhem like we were auditioning for Fangoria. That we got to read our two page murderfests aloud in formal presentations only spurred us on.
To her credit our teacher handled it with utter composure. Never once was she ruffled, not even when the chirpy Summer (or was it her twin sister Daydream?) read aloud a tale that featured an unlucky time traveler getting bitten in half by a tyrannosaurus (I was extremely annoyed that the T. rex picked up its meal with its forearms before chomping it. I'm certain you will sympathize.). No, the late Mrs. Matasky tolerated our grade school Grand Guignol with mild amusement and a deflating unflappability. If she was shocked or disgusted by us she was far too stern and savvy to let on, and put the whole craze to a stop one afternoon by calmly instructing us to find a different subject. We did; we knew better than to test her patience.
Saturday, July 12, 2008
Ten Sides of Crusty
Got crappy dice? Maybe you got one that's old and rolled out, or the dog chewed on it, or it dropped behind the radiator never to be seen again till you got the carpets cleaned before moving out of that one apartment with the ant problem. Maybe it sat in a damp basement for a few years while you pursued a more "normal" hobby like bowling or fantasy baseball.
Well, now you can trade 'em in. Got a hankering to win a booby prize stolen from an old stoner's bedroom? Check out Rondo's Fugly Dice Contest. Maybe you'll win a thirty year old copy of Penthouse Digest, or a groovy poster of that one poem about heroin. Maybe an out of date Rockford Fosgate catalog or a bandanna with a hole burned in it where a hot ember broke off a stick of incense. Fantastic prizes can be had from any damn contest, but only Rondo guarantees the sort of crap you wouldn't pay a quarter for at a yard sale. So check it out!
Well, now you can trade 'em in. Got a hankering to win a booby prize stolen from an old stoner's bedroom? Check out Rondo's Fugly Dice Contest. Maybe you'll win a thirty year old copy of Penthouse Digest, or a groovy poster of that one poem about heroin. Maybe an out of date Rockford Fosgate catalog or a bandanna with a hole burned in it where a hot ember broke off a stick of incense. Fantastic prizes can be had from any damn contest, but only Rondo guarantees the sort of crap you wouldn't pay a quarter for at a yard sale. So check it out!
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
Sneak Preview: D&D 4e Monster Building and Customization
One of the highly touted aspects of the new edition of D&D is the ease with which DMs will be able to create and customize monsters to challenge their players. In fact, I just learned the DMs will be able build monsters on the fly, using just a few rolls of a trusty twenty-sider:
| 1 | black | blade | brute |
| 2 | blood | blood | creeper |
| 3 | bone | bond/bound | delver |
| 4 | death | claw | fiend |
| 5 | demon | cloak/cloaked | filcher |
| 6 | doom | doom | foamer |
| 7 | dread | fang | gnasher |
| 8 | flame | fiend | horde/hordling |
| 9 | ghost | fire | howler |
| 10 | grim | gaunt | hulk |
| 11 | ice | haunt | lasher |
| 12 | iron | horn | leaper |
| 13 | night | maw | racer |
| 14 | poison | rake | reaver |
| 15 | razor | scale | ripper |
| 16 | spell | spike | scourge |
| 17 | stone | tusk | sneak |
| 18 | storm | warp/warped | swarm |
| 19 | thunder | wing | titan |
| 20 | wind | wrack | wurm |
With attacks and abilities built right into the name, spelled out in ubiquitous damned adjectival compound nouns, a DM need only decide the creature's level range and role, and let 'er rip.
EDIT [in response to James Mishler]: The beauty of 4e is scalabilty, to wit
| 21 | acid | crawl | bloodbeast |
Actual Play: Papers & Paychecks
Today's game...what a brutal grind. The rest of the party fell victim to a Critical Failure on the Interaction chart and spent much of the session griping and sniping about an absent player's many perceived failings. Meanwhile the GM mostly huddled over his notes, trying to make sense of it all.
For my part, I missed several crucial Productivity checks at the start of the day, so my character spent much of the session idle. On the other hand I rolled well enough on the Current Accounts charts that my overall earnings were high. But keeping my head down and trusting the dice isn't very satisfying.
And we're scheduled to play every day this week. I'm actually glad to be missing Friday's session...
For my part, I missed several crucial Productivity checks at the start of the day, so my character spent much of the session idle. On the other hand I rolled well enough on the Current Accounts charts that my overall earnings were high. But keeping my head down and trusting the dice isn't very satisfying.
And we're scheduled to play every day this week. I'm actually glad to be missing Friday's session...
Saturday, May 3, 2008
lo, a poem
lo, daddy-o,
the air is smoke and ashen
in the dread dim coffeeshops of america.
lo, hepcat,
take rest from your wild nights' travels,
slake your crazed desert thirst.
lo! baby, lo,
the bitter blood runs black,
the premium beans percolate,
don't be late, don't wait.
outside, the winds blow, blow, blow. lo, the darkness, the darkness, the cold freezes the heart, the sacred heart, the venerated heart of our Savior "Jesus, it's cold," say the brittle broken bums of the world, "Can you spare a dime?" but there will always be poor. and it is best to render unto Caesar as you would have him render unto you. lo, the Golden Rule, the Golden Rule. the winds, the winds, the winds blow, outside.
lo, brother,
have a long lungful of choke-grey smoke.
lo, sister,
your tea grows cold in the pot.
lo, hot momma,
why must you stare, so sad and long,
at oedipus?
[neo-faux-beatnik, ca. 1995]
Thursday, May 1, 2008
Die 20
It's been a contentious couple of days in our growing circle of grognards, old school OG's, tabletop Tories and faux-retro futurists. In the mock spirit of things I offer this short scene, a golden polyhedron from Eris' dicebag:
ye Grognarde: Yon sprats, they have it too easy! We've moddlecollied them so much they can't even read a variable number spread without their little d6 or d8 what tells them how to roll. Gone is the respect for 3-12 and 4-24! Lo, in this fallen age they roll 3d4 and 4d6. The problem-solving spirit of yesterday is fading, alack and woe. These youngsters wouldn't know how to solve a puzzle like 3-9 or 8-11 if they had feat in arithmetic!
Johnny Come Lately: 3-9? Go to bed, old man! What's the point? Oh, right, cause it's sooo fun to back engineer a monster's Strength bonus! Look, mathlete SWAT team dungeoncrawls just aren't my thing. I want a game that's streamlined for maximum cinematic action. Shoot, man, if only I didn't have to roll dice at all. Hell, no dice, no table, no players at all, just non-stop fun action...
DD-iBot: IN THE FUTURE DICE ROLLS WILL BE BEAMED FROM CENTRAL PROCESSING DIRECTLY INTO YOUR BRAIN.
ye Grognarde: (sputters, dies)
FIN
MP3: Robyn Hitchcock,Young People Scream
MP3: Frank Sinatra,The September of My Years
ye Grognarde: Yon sprats, they have it too easy! We've moddlecollied them so much they can't even read a variable number spread without their little d6 or d8 what tells them how to roll. Gone is the respect for 3-12 and 4-24! Lo, in this fallen age they roll 3d4 and 4d6. The problem-solving spirit of yesterday is fading, alack and woe. These youngsters wouldn't know how to solve a puzzle like 3-9 or 8-11 if they had feat in arithmetic!
Johnny Come Lately: 3-9? Go to bed, old man! What's the point? Oh, right, cause it's sooo fun to back engineer a monster's Strength bonus! Look, mathlete SWAT team dungeoncrawls just aren't my thing. I want a game that's streamlined for maximum cinematic action. Shoot, man, if only I didn't have to roll dice at all. Hell, no dice, no table, no players at all, just non-stop fun action...
DD-iBot: IN THE FUTURE DICE ROLLS WILL BE BEAMED FROM CENTRAL PROCESSING DIRECTLY INTO YOUR BRAIN.
ye Grognarde: (sputters, dies)
FIN
MP3: Robyn Hitchcock,
MP3: Frank Sinatra,
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
We'll eat you up, we love you so
Ending of the unpublished sequel to Where the Wild Things Are, in which a teenage Max, having sailed once again to visit the monsters who were once his friends and subjects, meets a grisly end -- hormonal changes brought on by puberty drive the beasts wild with hunger and he is swiftly dismembered and greedily devoured:
...the blood ran out over earth
and in and out of stones
and through the grass
and into the pile of his very own bones
where they had made a supper of him
and it was still hot.
...the blood ran out over earth
and in and out of stones
and through the grass
and into the pile of his very own bones
where they had made a supper of him
and it was still hot.
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