Ye gods, I am so tired of D&D. From when I started playing D&D in 1976, it was obvious that this was a 1:1 tactical skirmish game. The original element to the game was that you played as a team (a ‘party’), against a series of bad guy teams, run by one person, the Dungeon Master or ‘DM’ (the clue is really in the name). Occasionally you ganged up on a single, more powerful, bad guy. Add to this that there was enough plot created by the DM to stitch the skirmishes together, and you could improve your figures over time. Campaigns consisted of a patron directing the party to take on a series of bad guy teams in a variety of environments. Again with enough plot to stitch it together. Back when I was sixteen that was so much fun. Between adventures ‘good’ DMs introduced players to shopping and opportunities for R&R. Some built political and religious structures to provide more patrons and plots. Non-Player Characters appeared, but just about every one of them was a cardboard cut-out. However, the basic paradigm stayed the same, and I sincerely wish it hadn’t.
When 5e came out, the core rules were pretty much the same, but there was some emphasis on generating a background for your figure. This gave me some hope, but then we started playing it and the traditional paradigm kicked in hard.
I must admit that for a lot of the time that I have DM’ed D&D, I also have been running tactical skirmish games with enough plot to stitch sessions together. This paradigm is difficult to break out of as so many players expect it and some do struggle if you veer off piste. One of the reasons for this is that most of them developed their characters to be capable when the tactical encounters inevitably occurred. I got through this by trying to create and run as many original tactical environments as I could. Some were successful and some were not. I have also tried to make many of my NPCs and even my monsters three-dimensional, so their interactions with the players have had more depth. Again sometimes this was successful and sometimes it was not. In many cases I have set timelines with multiple paths running simultaneously, so the players get a sense of depth and the need to engage. My main campaign centre, the city of Codai, has a six column chart that details the events that happen each day of the year, so the players can get a feel that they are not the centre of my universe. And… sometimes this is successful and sometime not. The core paradigm of D&D though is powerful and has half a century of player expectations driving it forwards. Perhaps I am a hopeless romantic with unrealistic expectations.
So, I shall continue to play D&D as most of my friends play, but I shall not be running D&D again. Instead I am working on a couple of RPG projects that do not rely on tactical encounters to offer interesting an satisfying play.
I am increasingly of the opinion that Darkvision should be got rid of for three main reasons.
The first is that darkness is a staple of medieval fantasy and horror. For in darkness dwells fear and monsters, both of which are necessary for a good game. Darkness is a key tool in a DM’s arsenal.
The second is that rather than being a racial advantage, it has become a significant disadvantage for just a few. It unbalances the races, making some of them all but useless in the dark.
Thirdly, in our own world, many creatures that live in perpetual darkness evolve to exist without eyes, developing other senses to compensate. Nocturnal creatures that may still have eyes, also evolve other senses, like a bat’s echolocation.
In a setting where no-one has Darkvision, then the characters will have to rely on other methods of producing light to guide them. Tools such as torches, candles, and lanterns become important once more. As does the duration of the light they provide.
We need to revisit just how effective each type is, because the current rules have each of them working like electric torches. The original writers of D&D understood this, which is why they put in different types of lanterns such as hooded and bullseye.
Those spellcasters that can provide temporary magical light sources will have a new and vital role to play.
Taking it a step further what do we do with creatures that do exist in perpetual darkness, until the characters disturb them?
Many beasts could have developed blindsight. Short-ranged to be sure, but certainly foils hiding in shadows.
Who doesn’t want to have goblins with big ears that give them bat echo-location (and bat wings if you are feeling particularly wicked).
Also those who dwell in darkness could have developed tactics to extinguish intruder’s light sources.
Small carvings on walls, where the natives will feel them, can be used as a signpost system to guide them, or warn them of traps. To the adventurers these are all but invisible.
Of course, you can use light and darkness to your advantage:
Imagine having phosphorescent fungi that gives off welcome light when the adventurer’s approach. What they don’t know is that the light is both an alarm system and a way of illuminating the adventurers so that they can be shot at.
Pockets of darkness can be used to conceal enemies, or to act as stepping off points for hit and run attacks.
The classic ten-foot pit trap becomes all but invisible, even to those with some form of light. You don’t always look where you step when also trying to spot enemies.
Place entrances in a cave or dungeon just above the range of the adventurer’s light source.
Darkness outdoors has a different set of challenges:
Moonlight is quite useful, and it is possible to travel, albeit carefully, using it.
Shadows will be deep and very good at concealing enemies and hazards. They will lengthen as the moon moves closer to the horizon.
Also, moonlight is highly directional. Having it at your back makes it very difficult to see what is at your feet.
Clear starlight can be used to see with once your eyes acclimatise. However, it is not easy to move under.
An overcast sky at night can make it so dark that you literally cannot see your hand in front of your face.
Anyone using a light source shall be visible from very long distances.
A campfire, unless carefully concealed, is easy to spot. Also, those in such a camp are functionally blind to their surroundings.
Practical experimentation
In my youth I often explored underground locations, including the old gold mine in the hills above my mother’s house. I generally used military style torches that could be attached to the front of my jacket to provide illumination. Despite that light, on more than one occasion I nearly stepped into a vertical shaft in the passage in front of me. So now I understand the usefulness of a ten-foot pole
Once, my torch just died (loose connection), and I was left in complete darkness. Fortunately, I knew where I was, but it was still a terrifying trip back to the entrance. I bumped my head on numerous occasions and fell more than once. After that I always carried some chemical stick lights, not just spare batteries, as back-up.
I have used an oil lantern, candles, and a flaming torch underground to see how they fared.
The lantern was pretty good, giving an all-round decent light radius of about fifteen feet (5m) maximum. It did fully take up one hand though and gave its best light when stationary.
The candles, and I am talking three-inch [7.5cm) diameter church-style wax candles here, were not bad, but only if you were not moving. If you tried to use them while walking, they would often just go out, or provide shaky light at best. Five foot (1.5m) of light is about all you could expect.
The torch was unwieldy, smoky, and frankly, dangerous. Outdoors, where you can hold it away from you, it is quite charming. In the confines of a mine (or I imagine, a dungeon), you spend more time concentrating on where you shall put it than using its illumination. It provided about ten foot of usable light. However, hit a pocket of methane gas and whoompf!
Something I had not realised until I actually tried using older forms of illumination, is that:
Gauging distances is quite difficult in flickering light,
Wet surfaces can give off strange reflections,
Your eyes are often drawn to the source of the illumination, and this can temporarily dazzle you,
Colours are very difficult to determine, and
The reflection of a rat’s eyes can be terrifying.
Then there is sound
In stone mine passages and caves sound carries for long distances. The dripping of water, movement of small animals and the stress sounds of the stone can be constant. At other times there is no sound whatsoever, which can be more disturbing.
Voices get bounced around and mangled by the angled, hard stone surfaces, and confused by the numerous echoes.
A fully equipped team of cavers produces a huge amount of sound, that echoes around the environment producing very confusing soundscapes. Now imagine a fully equipped and heavily armed party of adventurers… the natives will be able to hear them coming for miles. Remember the sound of that bucket falling in Moria in The Fellowship of the Ring? A foolish Took indeed. Suddenly the barefoot, halfling scout becomes a very valuable member of the party. Even though he will probably still need to carry a lantern…
As a DM I generally bring characters to the point of death for two main reasons: 1. The players were being unnecessarily negligent with their character’s lives. 2. It serves the story being told.
In the first case I shall try to make it an educational experience. You took a stupid or reckless risk and sadly you have paid for it. It generally has to be an act of spectacular dumb-fuckery by players for me to do this. Note that I said – to the point of death. Good, creative and redeeming play can turn this around.
In the second case I try to achieve a good death, an opportunity for the character to be a real hero. To kill a character for reasons of story is a very serious step to take. Where I have done this I have generally talked it through with the player before the session and got their cooperation. In a few cases we have plotted this arc together from the beginning. Such a death must be necessary for the story, though this may not be clear at that point to the other players. As the plot unfolds they may discover this later and it must make sense to them. A foretelling can also be a good way to manage this. The character has been given a slow-acting poison, or been cursed, or a seer/witch has foretold of their death, and the story follows the party’s journey trying to prevent, to understand or to avenge this.
There is a third path as well. Sometimes players will sacrifice their characters themselves. Such as the classic “I’ll hold them off for as long as I can to help you escape/succeed/survive”. This is a good death, a worthwhile death, and one they chose. Make your antagonists pay for the character’s death in blood and treasure, and make it memorable. I call this ‘being Horatio on the bridge’.
Killing a character just because you can, or because the dice rolled that way, or to darken the plot, or by introducing unknown enemy abilities by surprise, is not concluding that character’s story arc well. It is stealing the player’s enjoyment and reducing their commitment to your story.
Footnote: I have not discussed a situation where the party has either the ability or the resources to bring their comrade back from death. If they do have this then the character has not died, you have just used up some party resources. Well, you can be a bastard and deny them the body for story reasons. He tumbled into a deep chasm, she was disintegrated and the powder blew off into the wind, or the enemy’s minions dragged the body away. Thus the party has to work to restore their comrade to life, and we have a side quest. While they are at this, have a chat with the dead character’s player. Do they actually want the character to come back? The player might consider it to have been a satisfactory end for the character, and are willing to bring in a new one. After all, in game terms, the character’s spirit can refuse to be raised.
Anyone who has spent any amount of time underground, perhaps in caverns or mines, one of the most common features is water. Over the years I have noted that very few GMs actually feature this or use it to make their adventures more challenging. Here are some ideas for using water in your underground games.
Where did that come from? Two common sources of suddenly appearing water are tides and rainfall. Tides are very useful in coastal areas, especially sea caves, twice per day low-lying areas of a set of caverns or a dungeon could fill with water. These could trap the party in certain areas or even threaten them if the area they are in is below sea level. Note that this water may not just come through the passages that connect to the sea, but also bubble up through fissures in the ground. A tide may also give egress to sea creatures that might threaten the party, like sharks, eels, giant crabs and merpeople. Rainfall has long been the enemy of cavers and we often hear tales of daring rescues being carried out to rescue those trapped underground. In this case the water tends to flow down through fissures in the rock from above. For example, what may have been a rock-cut stair when the party entered, is now a waterfall. A third source is ground water and natural aquifers. In most mines pumps are deployed to prevent water seeping through very walls of the mine. If the pumps are not working then water shall once more find its own level, submerging entire mines.
The nature of Water itself Water is dense and, once it reaches your knees, it will seriously hamper movement, halving walking speeds and preventing running altogether. Water is cold, especially underwater. It will sap the strength of even the hardiest character quite quickly, inducing fatigue and causing hypothermia. Water is dark. Even with magical light it is hard to see clearly. Floodwater may be full of soil and debris, limiting vision even further. That obvious pit trap just became deadlier than before, especially to characters carrying a lot of weight or in heavy armour. Water is slippery. The nature of stone and rock changes when wet, often becoming very slippery reducing characters ability to climb or even walk on it. Water flows. Water is always seeking a way to reach its natural level, and once it starts moving it can be very powerful. It can push along debris and even characters, making walking into or across the flow difficult. If you are not careful you can be swept away.
Something touched my leg… A classic fear is being in waist deep dark water and something touches your leg. This could be any aquatic creature or monster, which is pretty awful, because the first thing they often do is try to drag you down under the water and into their domain. Tentacle are great fun, but my favourite is giant crabs. Another possibility, if you really don’t like your players is the undead. Zombies, wights etc., don’t need to breathe, so make great aquatic horrors. Remember that scene from the first Pirates of the Caribbean film? “Take a walk boys…” Imagine an underground lake with a pirate ship a ground in the centre, with open chests of treasure visible in the deck. Where are the crew?
I once had a Gelatinous Cube filling a corridor. The party attacked and despatched it with relative ease, not realising that it was acting as a plug and behind it were hundreds of thousands of litres of water. When it died it burst and collapsed… the word you are looking for is ‘flushed’.
I’ve been thinking about the D&D Initiative system. First consider that in 5e a round is supposed to be about six seconds long. Each active PC and opponent may each have up to one second to complete their actions. The more actors the less time they will each have to act as each initiative point is sequential and they all have to fit into about six seconds. Say your character has a full second, then in that time they can move twenty to thirty feet, and either make an attack, cast a spell, or use an item or skill. In the right circumstances they shall also be able to react on someone else’s initiative point as well, or carry out a bonus action. Anyone else geting a Jackie Chan fight running through their head, but at double speed? Then there is the restriction that your character must act at the same point of the round, every round, unless they hold an action and drop down the initiative order. I reckon that by now you know where I am going with this. Even given that this is heroic fantasy this is both illogical and ridiculous. Now, this nonsense is not new. It has been around in D&D since time immemorial and, although this abstraction has served us well enough, it really is no longer fit for purpose.
So how do we sequence an action turn? I think the first thing we must do is recognise that the six second rule is an unnecessary restriction and abandon it forthwith. Then we can look at other games which have developed alternate systems. Now I am not going to bring in dozens of examples, but just look at one. The idea being that you can go and find others yourself. The one I’d like to present is Zombicide. Yeah, it’s a board game, but it is a cooperative skirmish combat board game, which is pretty much what D&D combat is supposed to be. In Zombicide the heroes decide as team what each will do, then they do it. Once they are finished the monsters get to go. No initiative rolls or unrealistic time boundaries. I must admit that I’ve never been a fan of ‘I Go You Go’ wargames but, as I said before, this is Heroic Fantasy so, unless the monsters have the drop on the characters, why not? Once the sequence begins to roll, there are no rounds as such. And before you say that spell durations is an issue, you can solve that by just counting the number of the Heroes’ action turns since it was cast.
A system I have been toying with for a while is to use a pack of playing cards. Deal one card out to each player, and one for each opponent or small group of opponents. No-one is allowed to see anyone else’s cards. The turn begins with the DM revealing his highest card. Then players with higher ranked cards can choose to act before that card, or hold onto their cards. If more than one player chooses to act then they do so in card rank order Any player whose character has acted then places their card in the discard pile, and we move to the DM’s next highest card and repeat the process. If, after the last DM’s card is revealed, there are still players holding cards, then they should act now and in card rank order. A player may always choose not to act and simply discard their card. Thus the DM and players will have used all their cards, the turn ends, the DM shuffles the discard pile into the deck, and it all starts again. A possible complication to this card system is to give each player two cards, one for each of their usual Standard and/or Move Actions. Their opponents still only get one card and must perform both their actions on the same initiative point, because they are not the heroes. This may seem complex but I am sure that after a couple of turns everyone will get it. The advantage of such as system that although there is still a random element the players do have a measure of control of when they drop into the sequence. Note: I prefer having Aces High, and if there are two cards of identical face value then the card with the higher ranked suit goes first. From highest rank to lowest this is: Spades, Hearts, Clubs and Diamonds.
What I want from a roleplaying game is the following:
A core system that is quick to learn, and easy to manage.
A core system that does not get in the way of roleplaying.
Enough character creation choices that make each character unique, but does not fall into the trap that is enabling min-maxing.
An interesting and challenging setting.
A tool set for GMs that makes it easy to turn ideas into engaging scenarios and campaigns.
Not having to buy more than one book.
So, as an example let’s compare D&D 5e against my wish list?
D&D has never been easy to learn and although 5e is technically simpler than 3.5, it can be a ball ache to get new players through their first few sessions. After twenty years of 3.5 and three of 5e, I still regularly stumble over rules.
To a certain extent this depends on the DM’s style, but with a rule for nearly every situation, it does not help. Players end up ruleplaying through challenges rather than roleplaying.
5e is a min-maxers paradise, and is following the lead of 3.5 in the sheer number of supplementary volumes being produced. The speed of these releases means that the Wizards design team cannot have had the time to playtest each against existing material, and this shows.
D&D has settings, lots of them, and the problem with this is without constant vigilance by the GM there will be rules and content bleed between them, and opportunistic players happy to exploit it.
Yes, the GM has tools, but the temptation in as complex an offering as this is to rely on published settings and modules and let someone else do all the work. A major problem being that as fast as you write your own stuff, new releases can make it technically obsolete.
Hmm… one book eh? I cannot see Hasbro or Wizards liking that idea. Their bottom lines depend on a customer base addicted to the shiny. They want you to buy book after book, subscribe for more content, and buy the figures ranges and the merch.
Unfortunately it is a game I have to play as most of my friends are into it. I also have a group that steadfastly continues with the wreck that is D&D 3.5. Oh woe is me, but at least I am playing twice a week.
Right then, let’s go to the other end of the spectrum and look at the oddball, boutique fantasy RPG Mork Borg.
It took me five minutes to learn and a session not to have to use the reference sheet.
With so many situations deliberately not covered by the rules you absolutely have to roleplay.
Nope. Half a dozen initial choices, with some random tables added on for interest. The uniqueness of your character comes from how you choose to play them… oh the delicious horror.
Again, nope. This world is going to end soon and you are fighting over the scraps. Literally earning enough from each adventure to get drunk, stoned and bedded, until you run out of cash and start again. Brilliant premise.
Some random tables and few adventure hooks. It is up to you to bring some semblance of order to the chaos.
There is one slender A5 paperback book, and a few extras online.
My friend Dave is running this at the moment and it is an absolute hoot. The sort of game where a TPK is seen as a fine evening’s entertainment.
Now, I am the first to admit that I could be an outlier in the roleplaying community. A person who believes that less is more, which is why I have been writing my own rules for over thirty years in a quest to meet my own criteria. I’m still working on that, but I am getting closer.
I have also been DM’ing for the best part of forty ears with every system I could lay my hands upon, including every edition of D&D since its inception, except for 4th (I read the 4e PHB, then gave it away to someone I didn’t like).
In pretty much every roleplaying game there is a mechanic for representing being physically damaged. Many use the classic Hit Points system, where a character stays fully capable until that final hit puts them down and they begin to die. Even though I have played D&D since the seventies, that still irritates me.
A Healer by Carla Ortiz
In my Lamplight RPG I created a system that as the character is damaged their abilities degrade also. Some have questioned this, and the speed with which Lamplight characters can recover, so here is my rationale.
In this game we recognise that any significant wound could effectively incapacitate a person. Watching countless HEMA fights and modern medieval tournaments, the combatants often take multiple nasty hits yet keep on fighting. You can actually see when a hit has really hurt though, and some fighters yield immediately knowing that mercy is automatic in HEMA. However, a few muster the will to continue, though they are obviously no longer fully capable.
So, in Lamplight, when we say the character takes a ‘wound’ we mean a condition that reduces the character’s capability to continue effectively. This includes temporary effects like impact shock, winding, limb dislocation, sudden significant pain, and becoming dazed or disorientated. A few minutes of simple rest could allow the heroes to recover fully, but they don’t have the time as they are still in danger, so they soldier on, even if less capably. In this game the first time that a hero is wounded, this inflicts a -1 penalty on all subsequent task rolls. A second wound, while still suffering the effects of a first, is more serious and the effects more pronounced. This inflicts a -3 penalty on all subsequent task rolls. A third wound is potentially deadly, and incapacitates the hero entirely. Leaving them vulnerable to being killed by any further damage they may suffer.
Considering this approach, we must address the matter of the rapid recovery offered by the Healing Touch of an Apothecary, or the various chemical remedies. Apothecaries in Lamplight do not use magic to heal wounds. It is, after all, a low magic setting. Instead they are highly trained in muscular and skeletal manipulation and first aid. They counter the injuries by invoking production of the body’s own magic drug – adrenaline, relocating limbs, relieving pressure on muscles and organs, staunching blood loss, and hitting critical nerve clusters to stimulate recovery. Although it is called a Healing ‘Touch’, it is not as gentle as one might suppose. Watching an Apothecary work is brutal, with loud cracks and pops as bones are relocated, hard grunts as their hands penetrate joints and muscles, and cries of pain from the patient because all of this bloody well hurts. An alternative term for an Apothecary could be a ‘Combat Chiropractor’. Patients of this ‘gentle’ art will carry the bruises and aches for days. So, onto the chemicals… Wound Salves sting like all hell. When they are applied the herbs and chemical components stop blood loss, acid cauterise the wound, numb the pain, and deliver an amphetamine-like punch. They often leave a nasty scar. Of all the sources of healing, Aqua Vitae is the nearest to actual magic. A concoction of divine elements like orichalcum and the regenerative capability of Troll Bile surge through the body like fire. Pretty much every recipient emits an agonizing scream or significant bout of swearing loudly after they drink it. Both of these remedies are deliberately expensive, and become a measure of last resort.
A note on Incapacitation. Lamplight is fairly cinematic in style, as I feel that leads to more heroic play. So what is more cinematic than a cry from the back of the cave, as the goblin chieftain places a serrated dagger to the throat of one of your incapacitated comrades. “Put down your weapons!” it screams “or the dirty Halfling gets it!”. Capture and escape form a part of so many heroic narratives. It also allows you to capture enemies, take out sentries without murdering them, knock out opponents in a bar fight, and so on.
The low magic nature of Lamplight means that death is a very real consequence. The practitioners of the only way back from death, the Ebon Ritual, are so rare that it makes it very unlikely indeed. Healing may be rapid, but once you cross that threshold it is game over. I did this quite deliberately because without a clear sense of their character’s mortality, where does real heroism come from?
Having a relatively short track to failure and death, the significant degradation of capability as damage takes effect, yet the possibility of rapid healing, I have found changes the way players look at combat. Most seem to see it as something to avoid if possible, or only to deliberately take on if the they have done all they can to move their odds in their favour. Players become more tactical, and are aware that they must protect their Apothecary (if they have one) and anyone who becomes incapacitated.
Following on my last article, here are some examples of other regional or national cuisines that can be found on the city of Codai and a few other places across the province.
Vimallan
The elves of Vimalla have a particular cuisine that is very popular in Codai. It is a searingly hot and heavily spiced concoction which features leaves, fungi, nuts, insects and vegetables, and is served on fried delta rice. Meat or fish is never used in this cuisine.
Elves, and afficionados of this cuisine, use edible leaves to scoop up the food and eat it. Also when travelling, the food is carried in leaf wraps.
Elves drink nothing but water, but an astonishing variety of waters that are valued by their source, clarity, mineral content etc. An Elven Aquifer, the equivalent of a sommelier, should be able tell you the source, year and season of any water presented to them
Vimallan vegetable dish with red delta rice
Halflinga
From a tradition handed down through generations, the Halflinga are brewers and picklers.
Much of their food is transformed through these processes so it can be stored for lean times. They do eat fresh food, but not without adding some pickles, vinegary condiments and lots of salt.
They are also the only bakers in Codai, other than the Necorain, who add yeast to their bread dough. The yeast is a by-product of their brewing and fermenting processes. Many Codaini have come to like this risen bread and eat it on special occasions. It is much fluffier than Necorain bread, and more brioche in style.
Halflinga pickles
Halfinga brew a range of beers and ales to suit the needs of their customers, and make use of local materials. They use Ground Soral spice in their bitters.
They also, and often illegally, make Scheen. A clear and very strong spirit that will take the varnish off a door. They make this from waste fruit and vegetables so every batch is pretty much unique. It has been known to make drinkers blind, deaf, incontinent or unable to bear children. Also, the sweat of regular drinkers has been known to become inflammable. Oddly Halflinga never seem to suffer these unfortunate side-effects, possibly because they have three stomachs.
Gnomish
The Codaini Gnomes are voracious meat eaters, and the makers and purveyors of fine sausages. Recipes for sausages are handed down through generations, and competition is fierce to produce the best each year.
They are the primary growers of onions, leeks and garlic in the Province. Every gnomish windowsill and yard has containers with these plants in. It would not be a Gnomish sausage without one of these as a primary ingredient, alongside the pork or goat meat and offal.
There is a dark joke that if you want to get rid of a body, sell it to a gnome, and it will become twice its weight in sausages within a week.
A range of Gnomish sausages
Gnomes like dark, heavy breads, which they slice thinly and use with sausage and cheeses.
To drink, the Gnomes have become expert in producing soft fruit cordials/extracts and berry wines. Their citrus cordials are much welcomed by sailors and caravanners, who take them on their long journeys to ward off scurvy.
Montani
Flame-cooked meat with heavy sauces or glazes are at the core of the Montani diet. They regard Vimallan and Necorain cuisine as efféte, but they do love Gnomish sausages and, more recently, Halfinga pickles.
Lamb and goat are their favourite meats, though they will eat pretty much anything that walks or flies.
Many Montani are goat herders, and are famed for their hard cheeses. These are popular across the province and provide a steady income for them.
Mhor Cheeses
Seasonal ocean Salmon is a delicacy to them. They eat it raw with a ‘secret’ combination of mountain herbs. When the Salmon return to the rivers, many Montani families leave their Mhors (villages) to camp along the riverbanks and fish.
Their drink of choice is cider, made from the small, hard and sour, upland apples.
Necorain
In Necor it is all about the bread. The sheer variety of breads available in Necorain cuisine is mind-blowing. There are breads that are common across the Empire and then hundreds of regional, town and even village variations of these. All bread is leavened.
A Vimallan stuffed trencher
The standard bread is the hard crusted Trencher, which is sliced in half and used to serve the meat or fish on one side and vegetable, fruits and fungi on the other. By tradition, the meat and fish must not touch the vegetables.
Fish is served in salted, creamy sauces and meat in oily, often sweet, dressings.
Necorainis don’t like pepper or other ‘hot’ spices.
Everything is cut into bite-sized chunks before being placed on the trencher.
They use two-tine forks to pick the meat and vegetables from the bread. Once this is done they roll and eat the trencher which is soaked in the sauces or dressings applied to the food.
Necorain cuisine is also about the wine. Only the poorest drink water. Wine is drunk with all meals. Mostly it is quite weak, usually about 3%, with stronger wines reserved for evening meals and banquets. Children generally drink citrus fruit juices and milk until they reach puberty, then it is onto the wine.
The Necorain invented and have nurturedwine snobbery.
Dwarven
Fungus, crustacea and fish are the staples that have guided dwarven cuisine through the ages. If it cannot be found underground then the food is considered ‘nesh’, i.e. generally inedible. That said dwarves will eat local foods when above ground because they refuse to bring their native foods ‘under the sun’.
The variety of fungus, crustacea, and fish that can be found in the underground is a lot wider than many might think and the dwarves are experts in preparing it. Most food is boiled, often in geothermal pools or over volcanic vents, so it has a distinctly salty or sulphurous flavour.
There is a lot of ritual in dwarven cooking, much of it originally designed to rid the food of toxins, then handed down until it become almost religious in nature. Many dwarves no longer understand the original purpose but follow the traditional rituals because “It is custom”.
The only place you can get dwarven cuisine in Codai is in the feasting hall beneath the Temple of Urgu. Non-dwarves are only allowed in on Market days.
In my RPG campaign world of Kham-ra, specifically the province of Codai, there are many things that I have gone into some detail with. I consider this level of detail to be important, as it lays the foundations under the characters’ feet.
In a world of magic and fantasy there needs to be some consistency, customs and ways of doing things to create a certain level of immersion for the players. So here is an example: the staple crop of the Codaini people – the Soral bean.
Golden Soral
The Golden Soral bean is one of the two staple crops of Codai alongside Delta Red Rice.
It is believed that it was a gift from the god Trafan to the founder Coda.
Golden Soral beans are the size and general texture and flavour of butter beans.
The beans are cream coloured though their pods are bright yellow. This yellow can be extracted, fixed and turned into a lemon-coloured dye.
The stems can be used to make rope and fine cloth known as Weave.
Weave is very similar to linen and is a significant export item to the rest of the Empire.
The importance of the bean to the province led to the creation of the Bean Exchange, the premier trading floor in the city.
Ground Soral
There is a sub-type of Soral that is half the size of its cousin and its beans are very hard. They are dried and ground to produce a bitter spice. As a result the plant is called Ground Soral.
Many native Codaini use the powdered Ground Soral bean to produce an aromatic drink called Saf. Along the streets, courts and markets of Codai, traders called Safis sell Saf from barrels on their backs. They often sweeten the Saf with soral honey.
Ground Soral beans are also used to make beer bitter, and Codaini believe it makes better beer than Imperial Hops.
The stamens of the Ground Soral can be picked, dried and ground. They are used by apothecaries to produce a lotion that reduces inflammation and pain.
Honey
Bees that live on Golden Soral and Ground Soral blooms produce a honey that can prevent wound blight.
There are thousands of bee hives along the edges of the soral fields.
They also produce a fine, sweet mead from Golden Soral and a dry mead from the Ground Soral.
Traditions
In a Codaini home the Soral pot is never taken from by the fire, and never cleaned (on the inside). A pot may well last generations and is always full of a bubbling Soral stew. Whatever meat and vegetables are seasonably available are added to the pot to make meals.
Workers leave the house with a two part clay pot containing their lunch. In the bottom is today’s Soral stew, and in the top is unleavened bread to eat it with.
The only differences between the Soral stew served in noble and commoner households is the quality of the ingredients and who tends the pot. In ordinary Codaini households the honour of keeping the pot ‘alive’ goes to a elder member of the family which might equally be a grandfather of grandmother. In noble households they have servants for that.
A common wedding gift is a brand new Soral pot, with a first stew already in it.
Travellers who have been without stew because of their travels are invited in the share their host’s stew. It is tradition that they clear their first bowl without speaking.
Conclusion
As you can see from just one plant we have seven different uses, all of which are vital for daily life in the province.
So, how can we use this in our games?
Imagine that a vengeful druid and his circle decide to try and punish the Codaini for some ancient insult, by blighting their crops, and the Governor needs a party to stop them.
Soral Linen is quite valuable once woven, and merchants always need people to escort the caravans.
Speculators are trying to make a killing in the Bean Market by attacking the Bean stores of their rivals. The Head of the Bean market may need adventurers to deal with the arsonists and track down who is paying them.
A necromancer is mixing gave dust with powdered Ground Soral and selling it at a discount to Saf sellers. Some people are getting sick and even dying. Their corpses will then rise from the grave and serve their master…
Back in the day, my friends and I were keen readers of the early White Dwarf magazine (issues 01-820). We even contributed adventures and creatures to it. Well this morning I came across a forum where a fine chap known only as’Garnfellow’ had taken the time list all the D&D scenarios and creatures in those magazines.
If you look below you will see a number of contributions from my good friends Mark Byng (now a board game designer and Simon Miller (author of the To the Strongest! wargames series) and myself:
WD 24 (April/May 1981),“The Lair of Maldred the Mighty”: Morghiss (Mark Byng), Doombat (Mark Byng), Guardian Skeleton (Mark Byng). WD 28 (Dec 1981/Jan 1982), “Fiend Factory: Out of the Woods”: Whispering Tongue (Simon Miller), Driver Ant (Albie Fiore), Birch Spirit (C. N. Cartmell), Chameliad (R. D. Bowes), Black Unicorn (Alan Howcroft/Anthony Howcroft). WD 46 (Oct 1983), “Fiend Factory: Death in Green – Mini-Scenario for medium high level party of 4-8 adventurers”: Ivyix (Dale Hueber), Crimson Carpet (Mark Byng), Acrophid (John Gordon), Puffball Plant, The (Mark Byng), Vily (Dale Bartlett), Dame Verte (Ed Dovey).
Dead Simple Roleplaying 