Hundreds of years before the dawn of history
Lived a strange race of people… the Druids
No one knows who they were, or… what they were doing

— “Stonehenge” Spinal Tap

We’re four posts into this series and I’ve not yet managed to elevate the discussion about encounter tables beyond their basic die-roll-encounter-type form.

But I think the extra time was worth it. At the very least, by now you should have enough information to make decisions about when to use a nested table or when to rely on a bell curve vs. an equal-weight distribution. And, hey, I’ve learned some math, too. Win-win.

Dynamic Encounters

My model for dynamic encounter tables is inspired by Noisms over at Monsters And Manuals. It’s a “noun-verb-object” format that notes what you encounter, what they’re doing, and what they’re doing it to. It’s a scant treatment, but that’s rather the point: As Noisms puts it, the format forces the GM to come up with a narrative to connect the pieces together.

Aside from the extra detail this format provides, the “forced” creativity is what makes the table truly useful. In that spirit, I’d like to try another route to the same destination.

Here’s the Insect (Crawler) sub-table from before; roll separate d6s for each of the additional columns:

Bugs Plus!

Wants (noun)
This is whatever the Subject is after. It’s always a noun, but it could be anything that makes sense in your setting. You can create sub-tables of nouns to drill down from vague (e.g., [Food] or [Treasure]) to specific (e.g., “Carrots” or “The Egg of Mantumbi“).

In all cases, the Subject utilises his most effective tools to get what he wants—cunning, stealth, diplomacy, tricks, magic, or brute force—whatever is most expedient. It does not mean he is unnecessarily rash and incautious. Unless perhaps hindered by a Complication (see below), the Subject works to the best of his ability.

Complication (adjective)
This is something that colours the encounter, and it can apply to the Subject, the thing it Wants, the environment, or the circumstances under which the encounter occurs. It is always an adjective, but again, could be anything that makes sense in your setting, and also again, you can also create sub-tables to whatever level of detail you desire (e.g., general complications like [Wounded] or [Insane] , or specifics like “Bleeding” or “Delusional”) .

At its core, the Complication is simply a way to nuance the encounter and make it more interesting and challenging for the players than just a roll for initiative—that’s why it’s a complication. Feel free to ignore or re-roll as you see fit.

Interpreting Results

This is the fun part: piecing the words together to make up a decent encounter. Just off the top of my head, how about:

5, 4, 5: Hunting Spider wants Shiny Things complicated by Supernatural
There are silvery nuggets woven into the spider’s web, and they have magical properties.

6, 1, 4: Swarm wants Food complicated by Controlled
A locust swarm is sent by a sorcerer to plague the insubordinate villagers he rules.

3, 2, 3: Tiger Beetle wants a Mate complicated by Insanity
Clearly, this bug is cuckoo for copulation—best stay out of its way!

Tips

I recommend you start with the nested encounter tables and drill down normally. Use the format above when you get to the last sub-table. This lets you customise the options to fit the encounter type. In other words, humans and bugs have different Wants and Complications—this is a great way to illustrate those differences.

That said, you can fill in the Wants and Complications columns with any words you want . Naturally, this gives you an excellent opportunity to customise the setting via your choice of things and descriptors.

If you’re stuck for nouns and adjectives, check out the tools at WordGenerator.net. The only drawback is that you get your words one at a time, so you may have to do a lot of clicking before you find something you can use.

Final Words

I like the Wants/Complication approach because it’s very open-ended, though that can sometimes require more brain-effort from the GM. Like Noisms’ format, this approach does let you tweak the possible results as your setting develops. In that respect, these are truly dynamic tables.

So, simple question: what are your thoughts, and how would you improve it?

By the way, I apologise for my posting infrequency lately—while work is busy and interesting, it’s taken up a lot of time. I don’t think the work load will abate anytime soon, but neither is this site going away. Thanks for your patience.

Because I’m a super-current and on top of things, here are my responses to Zak’s thought-provoking questions. I’d like to say that my delayed entry is due to careful consideration of each answer. But no. In fact, my “delayed entry” is because I’m experiencing not-insignificant time management challenges as work grows super-crazy-busy. If only corporate America would realise that there’s more to life than web property management…

1. If you had to pick a single invention in a game you were most proud of what would it be?
Wand of Tears for Fears: This is a white ivory bar with raised black stripes. The wand is activated by a command word, which is the title of any Tears for Fear song. The effect is implied by the title, with details described by the player (subject to GM approval, with damage or duration limits based on the wielder’s level). Targets are allowed a saving throw to avoid the wand’s effects, but if the player sings any of the song’s lyrics or the complete chorus, effects are halved even if the save is made. The wand does not use charges; instead, each command word works only once. When all titles have been exhausted, the wand transforms into 2d4 pearl-like Orzaballs, which, if individually consumed, grant a +1 to reaction rolls, but at the cost of acrimony from party members for 1 round per Orzaball created.

2. When was the last time you GMed?
About a year ago, playtesting Chimera 3.0. I want to get a regular online game via ScreenMonkey or possibly Google+, but no joy yet on that front.

3. When was the last time you played?
Sometime in 2000. It was Call of C’thulhu and I ran a dilettante named Major Lord Trevor Percy Von Bottomton III, Esq.

4. Give us a one-sentence pitch for an adventure you haven’t run but would like to.
Baron Karhonnen offers gold and titles to any who help him retake the Lost City of Morssk from the Skeleptron sub-men and resurrect it to its former glory.

5. What do you do while you wait for players to do things?
Depends on my mood. If I’m annoyed with them for prolonged and pointless argument, I roll copiously for wandering monsters and describe threatening things. If their confusion amuses me, I try to spin as many simultaneous d10s as I possibly can.

6. What, if anything, do you eat while you play?
The trick is having something you can (1) eat with one hand, (2) doesn’t leave a mess on your fingers, and (3) can be consumed in 3 bites or less. This includes peanut M&Ms, Sour Patch Kids, Ritz crackers with Easy Cheese, cocktail weenies, and Bagel Bites. Also, there must be nachos.

7. Do you find GMing physically exhausting?
Just the opposite – it’s energetic socialising with dice.

8. What was the last interesting (to you, anyway) thing you remember a PC you were running doing?
Trying to hire an assassin in a really seedy corner of an unfriendly city, and not knowing how to ask without making more enemies, Scabbous walks into the tavern, stabs the bar with his dagger, and asks the innkeeper, “Do you know anyone who knows how to use this?” At least it got the conversation rolling…

9. Do your players take your serious setting and make it unserious? Vice versa? Neither?
Depends on our mood. The setting has elements of both, so there’s opportunity for serious things for when we want grave storytelling, and silly things when we want to blow off steam.

10. What do you do with goblins?
They are the guerrilla fodder of Chaos, and they harass the crap out of PCs. Goblins attack to wound, never engage in a stand-up fight, and are found in every environment. They’re easily startled but always come back in greater numbers.

11. What was the last non-RPG thing you saw that you converted into game material (background, setting, trap, etc.)?
A map of the NYC subway system. Three words: Five-Borough Megadungeon. [1]

12. What’s the funniest table moment you can remember right now?
We tried a rule where you only got monster XP for landing the death blow. Rick the Druid ran around attacking any foe who was down to 10hp or less, basically poaching the XP from the PC who did all the work. He would yell “POACHED!” when he did this, and then came up with variations like “POICHED!” “PACHED!” “PEACHED!” and PO-ACHED!” After the 3rd or 4th time, the rest of the party turned on him. Ironic End: during the battle, Black Dangle the thief couldn’t resist temptation, did a backstab, and yelled “PUCHED!” (with a “K” sound) as he stole the XP from the other PCs. And so it goes…

Why not?

13. What was the last game book you looked at–aside from things you referenced in a game–why were you looking at it?
Avalon Hill’s Eldarad: The Lost City. I love the concept of an entire city in ruins; settled by bandits, monsters, and other riff-raff; and being slowly reclaimed by adventurers and their red-shirted allies hired by greedy nobles.

(I’m surprised to learn that Eldarad is so apparently reviled by the Runequest community—I look forward to using it as a model for a new Chimera island mini-setting I want to launch.)

14. Who’s your idea of the perfect RPG illustrator?
Probably the nostalgia talking, but I have to go with Erol Otis. Possibly Holloway, who I realise has a completely different style.

15. Does your game ever make your players genuinely afraid?
I don’t think genuinely afraid. But sometimes definitely anxious that there’s a TPK on the immediate horizon. Heh.

16. What was the best time you ever had running an adventure you didn’t write? (If ever)
Keep on the Borderlands with my college group in the early 90s. Re-skinned for Greyhawk and AD&D…the PCs cleared out everything—my girlfriend at the time (playing a ranger) was genuinely upset about what to do with the orc babies.

17. What would be the ideal physical set up to run a game in?
I have this fantasy about re-doing the attic with lots of bookshelves, an entire wall devoted to displaying minis, a projection table, sound system, mood lights, and comfy chairs with swing-out writing surfaces and built-in (felt-lined) dice rolling troughs. Possibly wood paneling or shag carpet for just a touch of 70s.

18. If you had to think of the two most disparate games or game products that you like what would they be?
I’m sure there are lots, but looking at my bookshelf, I’d say Moldvay Basic and Savage Worlds. Such different approaches to infinite options…

19. If you had to think of the most disparate influences overall on your game, what would they be?
Moorcock’s Elric saga and Aqua Teen Hunger Force. [2] Though, while the genres are quite disparate, it’s true that they both thrive on “random.”

20. As a GM, what kind of player do you want at your table?
One who’s willing to take risks. I realise that (subconsciously, perhaps) I tend to reward risk-takers more often than not. Maybe because they make the game more entertaining? Or maybe I’m just more amused at the desperate and cloying nonsense that inevitably results…

21. What’s a real life experience you’ve translated into game terms?
In my Boy Scout days, I was very much into camping, hiking, wilderness survival, and making fire out of eyeglass lenses and orange peels. These things tend to colour my hex crawls…

22. Is there an RPG product that you wish existed but doesn’t?
Why isn’t there a version of HyperCard specifically for RPGs? I mean, yes, I know there are lots of software packages for campaign management, character generation, combat tracking, treasure and encounter creation, etc. But they’re all separate, too specialised, and they don’t talk with each other. I want a single platform that’s easy to extend, with any media type, a simple scripting language, and portability so we can all write and share in the same format.

23. Is there anyone you know who you talk about RPGs with who doesn’t play? How do those conversations go?
My wife, who recognises  (and supports the fact) that I get a lot out of the hobby, but doesn’t necessarily understand the attraction. When I talk about it, she very patiently pats my head and says, “That’s nice, dear.” Occasionally, she makes a face, but hey, I love her still.

_______________

1. Transport to and from Staten Island via teleport only.
2. The episode with the “Belt of Foreigner” inspired the Wand of Tears for Fears.

“…the dice are your tools. Learn to use them properly, and they will serve you well.”

- Gary Gygax, 1st Ed. Dungeon Master’s Guide,1979

The last post dealt with the difference between the frequency and probability of items on a random encounter table, and introduced a simple bell-curve table using 1d4+1d6. We’ve gotten far afield from creating and populating a mini-setting, but the discussion about tables and die rolls is worth having, so I’d like to spend one last post talking about some other (ahem) facets of the dice that may help you as a GM.

Dice Basics

Some of this is no doubt familiar, but I’m hoping that even the most experienced among you can grab a few bits of value.

When rolling a single die, the number of possible results [R] equals the number of sides [S]. The probability of rolling any single result (as a percentage chance) equals [1 / S]. Thus, when rolling 1d6, there is a 16.7% chance of getting a 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, or 6.

When rolling multiple dice, the number of possible results [R] equals the highest possible value [H] minus the lowest [L], plus 1 [(H - L) + 1]. Thus, when rolling 2d6, there are 11 possible results (2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, and 12).

The mean value of any die roll (regardless of how many dice you’re rolling) is the highest value plus the lowest, divided by 2 [(H + L) / 2]. Thus, the mean of a 2d6 roll is 7; the mean of 1d4+1d6 is 6; the mean of 5d4 is 12.5, etc.

Bell Curves

When rolling multiple dice, you automatically skew the results along a bell curve, where the values around the mean have a higher chance of occurring than values at the high and low extremes.

This is because when you add the result of each die, there are more combinations that sum to median values. Conversely, there are fewer die combinations that add to values at the high and low ends. This is well-known to most gamers, who are used to rolling 3d6 for ability scores. When you roll 3d6, for example, there is only dice combination that gives a 3 {1,1,1} or an 18 {6,6,6}, but there are 27 dice combinations that add up to a score of 10.

The total number of dice combinations for any roll is the product of the highest value of each die. Thus, 1d6 provides 6 combinations; 2d6 provides 36; 3d6 provides 216 combinations, 1d4+1d6 provides 24 combinations, etc.

The probability of rolling a particular value equals the number of combinations that add up to that value divided by the total number of combinations possible. Thus, when rolling a 3d6, the chance of rolling a 3 is [1 / 216] or 0.5%; the chance of rolling a 10 is [27 / 216] or 12.5%. Chronicler Isiah over at The Dark Fortress has a great set of 3d6 probability charts illustrating this familiar curve.

Calculating the Odds

You may have seen tables that lay out the value and probability of die results. The problem is figuring out how many dice combinations add up to each value—it’s time consuming, can be error prone, and all sorts of dull. [1]

Good news is that it’s very easy to create your own probability tables for rolling a pair of dice, which I daresay is sufficient for most encounter tables. I say this for one simple reason: the more dice you roll, the more results your table will produce, which means the more “slots” you have to populate.

Back in the day, TSR provided an encounter table template using 1d8+1d12, granting a range of 2-20. It has a nice curve, but it means you have to supply 19 results. If you’re using nested encounter tables, that can be too beaucoup. Better (says I) to stick with smaller ranges, like the 1d4+1d6 combo I suggested earlier (wherein only 9 results are required, which is just faster and easier to work with).

But, the topic here is figuring out the probabilities associated with the dice combination you want. Note that this only works for 2d-something. If you’re rolling 3d6, 4d5, or 10d8+9d3, the guidelines below won’t work and you’ll have to do more math. And I think we all know how I feel about that…

Let’s start with a basic 2d6 toss. We know that there are 36 possible roll combinations (e.g. {1,1} {1,2} {1,3}, etc.). Here’s a quick way to figure out the curve.

Start by creating a table, with columns for Values, Combinations, and Probability. Second step is to list the Values. For 2d6, they look like this:

2d6 (I)

Determining combinations is key, but it’s easier than you might think. The secret is this: at the roll’s mean value, the number of combinations equals the highest value on the lowest die rolled. For 2d6, the mean value is 7, and there are 6 combinations that get you there. This is the high point of the curve, and the number of combinations gets lower on either side, until you get to 1 combination on each of the highest and lowest values.

In the Combinations column, enter 1 for the first row (i.e., there is 1 combination that grants a value of 2). Enter 2 in the second, 3 in the third, etc, until until you reach the median value.
Then, reverse it, so that your table looks like this:

2d6 (II)

Finally, determine probability by dividing the combination figure by the total number of combinations. For 2d6, the total combinations possible is 36, so do some math and fill in your table like so:

2d6 (III)

But what if you’re doing something funky like 1d8+1d12? It’s the same procedure, with a slight twist:

1. There are 96 roll combinations (8 * 12 = 96)
2. The result range is 2-20
3. The median value is 11 [(2 + 20 = 22) / 2 = 11]
4. There are 8 combinations that garner the median value (8 equals the highest value on the lowest die rolled)

Create your table as above, filling in results from 2-20. Enter your combinations the same way, starting with 1 and progressing to 8. However, you’ll note the progression doesn’t go all they way to 11—it stops at 9, like so:

1d8+1d12 (I)

Now what?

Here’s what: Start filling in the combinations at the other end of the result set, like this:

1d8+1d12 (II)

What to do with results 10, 11, and 12? Well, not surprisingly, they also have 8 combinations each. It’s a quirky bit of math that occurs because you’re using different die types. As a result, the curve peaks at several points, but still along the median value, which in this case is 11.

Fill in those bits, and your final table looks like this (I’ve included the actual combinations as proof of the system):

1d8+1d12 (III)

Final Words

OK, some stupid dice tricks that I hope are useful to you. Remember that the bell curve probability method described above only works for 2d-something combos.

I think this wraps up all that I want to say about die rolls and probabilities. Next post, I promise we’ll get back to actual encounter tables.
_______________

1. Or, you can ignore all of this nonsense and get on over to AnyDice.com, which will spit out the probability table of any die combination you want. Thanks again to Roger for bringing this to my (our) attention.

First off, I’m really happy that last week’s post was helpful. However, I do want to apologise for my math error, and for my disdain of bell curves. So let’s set things aright…

Frequency vs. Probability

Last week, I proposed breaking down encounter tables by frequency: 40% common, 30% uncommon, 20% rare, and 10% very rare. I went on to say that you didn’t have to limit your table results to four entries. If you were building a 1d10 table, for example, you could split up the 1-4 Common range  to populate your table with more than one Common entry.

However, as Roger correctly points out, this alters the probability of Common results when you make your 1d10 roll. My math-deficient brain had to puzzle over this a few times, but Roger is right, and I want point out my error in the hopes that others won’t make (or continue to believe in) the same mistake I did. I’ll use the same example as in my reply to Roger:

Let’s assume I have a 1d10 table of spells, like this:

1: hold portal (1st-level)
2: light (1st-level)
3: magic missile (1st-level)
4: read magic (1st-level)
5: knock (2nd-level)
6-7: web (2nd-level)
8: dispel magic (3rd-level)
9: fireball (3rd-level)
0: wizard eye (4th-level)

Strictly speaking–looking at the table only–40% of the results give a 1st-level spell, 30% of the results give a 2nd-level spell, 20% give a 3rd-level spell, and 10% give a 4th-level spell. That’s frequency.

However, each 1st-level spell has a 1-in-10 chance of coming up; this is no different than the chance of rolling up a 4th-level spell (i.e., 1-in-10). That’s probability.

Thanks for bearing with me on that one, and thanks to Roger for patiently pointing it out my mistake in a helpful way.

Bell Curves

(1d4 + 1d6)

I suggested (and continue to suggest) using straight-up 1d10, 1d20, or 1d100 tables. They’re easier to create, chiefly because it’s easier to calculate the frequency and probability ranges you want. That said, there is something to be said for a mixed-die roll that creates a bell curve.

One possibility is rolling 1d6 + 1d4. This presents nine results in a range of 2-10, so the frequency of each result represents roughly 11.1% of the available numerical values on the table.

However, when you roll 1d6 + 1d4, there are 24 possible die combinations. Certain values on the table can result from more than one die combination. As a result, the probability of each result is quite different, as shown below:

Put another way, this curve gives the following probabilities of encounter frequency:

• Common: 12/24 (50%; Chimera guideline is 40%)
• Uncommon: 6/24 (25%; Chimera guideline is 30%)
• Rare: 4/24 (17%; Chimera guideline is 20%)
• Very Rare: 2/24 (8%; Chimera guideline is 10%)

So while this isn’t as “neat” as the straight-up 1d10 table, it does provide a workable equivalent. I haven’t decided if I want to use this, but thought it might be a good alternative, particular for “end-line” encounter tables that don’t have sub-tables (assuming you want to keep weighted probability in the mix).

Final Words

While this isn’t what I wanted to talk about this week, I think it’s important to get all the table math and formatting out of the way. Trust me, it’ll make the next step of turning your encounter tables to 11 that much easier.

I’ve decided that January is “Make Your Own Island” month. This started out as me puttering about with some encounter tables, but things escalated quickly, and I decided to turn it into a fully-organic, quick-and-dirty summary of how you can create a little campaign setting. In last week’s post, I ended up creating an island map and broached the concept of nested encounter tables. More on that below, but first…

Some Housekeeping

Minocra (1 hex=5 miles)

To provide a sense of scale, I added the Regional Hex template as an overlay to the MapGen2 map of Minocra. Last week’s version used the CC3 version of the template, but before this exercise is over, I’ll want to place some symbols on it, add some labels, and embed notes. All these things will be easier in Hexographer, so in keeping with the quick-and-dirty approach I’m after, the map at right is rendered with the Hexographer version of the Regional Hex template. The map itself is semi-transparent, so the colours don’t “pop” as much, but it’s a trade-off between making the map or the hex overlay visible. You can’t make out the hex numbers, but you still get an idea of what’s what.

Added bonus: this paves the way for creating a true hex-only map, which may or may not materialise—all depends on how jiggy I get with it. Now, back to the business at hand…

Nested Encounter Tables

As suggested in last week’s post, the best encounter table is one that you customise for your setting and your group. In other words, you’re defining the setting by the encounters in it, but with a particular eye for what challenges your players and keeps them interested. Put that way, an encounter table is more than just a roster of what the PCs might meet 1-in-6 times every few hours—it’s really more of a blueprint for who lives in the setting and what they do there.

I like nested tables, which requires a multi-roll, drill-down approach to determining encounters. One of my favourite models is from the Rules Cyclopedia, which provides a chart for each terrain type, and the results lead to sub-tables of different monster types—not, as might be expected, actual monsters. For example, if you wanted an encounter for grasslands, you’d roll on the “Plains” table, which might give you a result of “Insect” or “Human.” Then you go to the appropriate sub-table, where you roll again to see what Insect or Human actually shows up.

This is where the format becomes useful. Instead of interpreting “Insect” as an actual monster, think of it as an encounter type. Now the Insect sub-table can include any manner of bug-related stuff.

With that in mind, the last tweak is weighting the table to reflect the odds of one encounter occurring over another. The original RC encounter tables were equal-distribution—there were 8 results, and you rolled 1d8 to determine which one you got, meaning that each entry had a 12.5% chance of coming up. This is fine if you want equal odds, but I suggest you weigh your top-level encounter tables because it makes it easier to devise encounter types.

Chimera provides some guidelines for monster frequency, suggesting Common (40%), Uncommon (30%), Rare (20%), and Very Rare (10%). You can apply these frequencies in general terms and create tables using 1d10 or 1d20, like this:

Note that your table need not be limited to 4 results: don’t confuse frequency (as a percentage) with roll result (as a single number). What’s important to remember is that Common encounters occur 40% of the time represent 40% of the table’s composition.  That means, on a 1d10 table, 4 out of 10 results must be Common. This could be a single Common encounter in the 1-4 range, giving you a 4-in10 chance of a Common result when you check the table.

If you need more “slots” on the table, you might split that 4-in-10 chance into roll results 1-2 and 3-4, or even 1-3 and 4. It really doesn’t matter how you arrange the table entries, so long as Common entries don’t occupy more than 40% of the possible roll results. However, doing this changes the probability of those results coming up (e.g., 1-2 equals 20%, 1-3 equals 30%, 4 equals 10%). So while your table’s composition is 40% Common, the probability of getting a Common result might be less than that (thanks to Roger for pointing this out).

Alternatively, you can accomplish similar wizardry by rolling multiple dice and adding the results. This forms a bell curve, familiar to many gamers the world over, where results in the middle of the range occur more frequently than results on the extreme upper and lower ends. It works, and involves more math (albeit not very difficult math), but it can be time-consuming. You can get clever and use 2d6, 1d4+1d6, 3d10, whatever combination you want, but each combination offers up a different set of probabilities, and very few are going to be as tidy as the model shown above. My advice is to keep things quick and easy to create and maintain by sticking with 1d10 or 1d20 (or, if you’re into big tables with lots of results, 1d100).

Thus, our revised sub-tropical jungle table from the last instalment might end up like this:

From this, you would generate sub-tables for each Encounter Type. When you make sub-tables, the frequency variation is up to you. My rule of thumb is this: if the table has a sub-table, I use the distribution above. But if the table is final (i.e., there are no sub-tables), I use equal-odds distribution. Continuing with our example, if I get a 3 on the table above, I roll on the Insect sub-table:

Again, I’m creating encounter types, though they’re limited to categories of insects. Because there are more sub-tables, I use a weighted distribution on the Insect table. But the remaining sub-tables Crawler, Flyer, Burrower, and Parasite) are the end of the line, so I’ll use an equal-odds distribution for each. Here’s the Crawlers sub-table, which uses 1d6:

Final Words

We’re just touching the tip of the encounter table iceberg, and there are a few more details I’d like to add to the mix in the next instalment.

As a side note, my apologies for missing last Wednesday’s post. These are busy times, and I’ve been heads-down ramping up my new Chimera RPG offering, which will happen by the end of the month.

I had an unexpectedly productive bit of campaign development last weekend. I was tinkering with the MapGen2 tool, and thought about creating a quick little Chimera setting. Then I thought maybe I should add some random encounters to that map. And then, having grown tired of typing on my computer, I grabbed a pencil, notebook paper, a roster of wilderness beasties from an long-done campaign, and I headed to the kitchen counter to bang out some custom encounter tables.

Which I hadn’t done in a long, long time. Years, really, I think. Custom encounter tables, I’m saying. Not someone else’s tables for someone else’s setting. And with a pencil. Colour me 1986—a pencil!

Anyway, it was an oddly satisfying exercise rife (it turns out) with lessons for the Busy GM. So let’s call January “Make Your Own Island Month,” and I’ll kick it off with some basics.

Getting Your Island

This is a bit of a side-trek, but it’s the easy part.

Go to the MapGen2 Tool and create an island. Play with the random seed and cycle through a few until you find something you like. For scaling purposes, I’m planning to put this onto a Regional Hex template, so the end result will be a square 125 miles to a side (15,625 square miles).

Isle of Minocra (1 hex=5 miles)

I like the “2D slopes” view for being pretty, the “Biomes” view for better terrain definition, and the “Polygons” view for reasons I cannot yet explain (the irregular hexes might have unanticipated use). Anyway, capture the image, via screenshot or Snagit or whatever you use and save it as a PNG.

I got clever and popped it into a CC3 version of the Regional Hex template (shown at right—as always, click to embiggen). You could do the same with the Hexographer version of the template—just select the PNG as your “Import” map and the Regional Hex template as your “Load” map. [1]

If all you had was the PDF version of the template, you could save the PDF as a PNG, then load up the MapGen2 PNG in Photoshop or even Fractal Mapper, adding the template as a semi-transparent layer. But that’s going to be more work, and I haven’t the skills, so more talented cartographers than I will have to weigh in on that one.

Initial Planning

Now that you have your map done, we can get back to the encounter tables. You’ll need to give your map about 2-3 Earth minutes of thought: basically, what’s the climate and what’s going on there (i.e., why would PCs be there?). Here’s a quick table to get you thinking:

In this case, I’ve named the place the Minocra, which is a sub-tropical island that the mainland kingdom wishes to colonise. But there will be opposing natives, dangerous creatures, and (natch) some ruins to explore.

Encounter Tables

Alright, this is what started off this little jaunt: encounters.

Let’s begin with an important fact: the only good encounter table is the one you create yourself, for your campaign, with your gaming group in mind. While most rulebooks include “stock” encounter tables, they tend to include every monster in the rules, even the ones unsuitable for a random encounter in your setting (because they’re too rare and powerful to show up randomly, or because they don’t live in your setting, or because, like the flumph of old, they’re stupid and useless).

Custom tables, on the other hand, omit things your campaign doesn’t have and let you dictate the frequency of what’s left (which turns out to be important because there are few things worse than relying on a random roll for inspiration only to get a result you don’t like).

I recommend a series of hierarchical tables and sub-tables (more on exactly how next instalment). This structure is inspired by the Rules Cyclopedia, which provides a single table for each terrain type (forest, desert, mountain, etc.) with a group of high-level, broadly defined encounter types. The detail of these types is contained within various sub-tables. While the Rules Cyclopedia goes only two levels deep, the potential exists for infinite nesting, which means you can get as detailed as you like.

Starting with the ultra-basic “details” I’ve established about Minocra, we know that the island is in a sub-tropical climate. Looking at the map, we can pick out some terrain features. Let’s start with jungle and, using the guidelines above, we might customise a two-level structure like this:

Sub-tropical Jungle Encounters

1. Human
1. Patrol
2. Savages
3. Pirate
4. NPC party
2. Insect
1. Ant, giant
2. Spider, giant
3. Insect swarm
4. Mudwasp
3. Animal
1. Monkey
2. Jaguar
3. Python
4. Tapir
4. Unusual
1. Blood on the trail
2. Animal snare set by savages
3. Kong-sized footprint
4. Burial cairn (d6: 1-4 ruined and collapsed; 5-6 untouched)

In this case, you’d roll 1d4 to determine encounter type, then a second 1d4 to identify the actual encounter.

There some improvements we can make to the actual table (tune in next week), but for now, I just want to illustrate the whole table/sub-table bit, because it’s a surprisingly powerful tool.

Final Words

The goal (well, one of the goals) of this exercise is to get comfortable making custom encounter tables. These help define your campaign better than anything you’ll find in a rulebook. Which is not to say that you can’t use whatever random tables the rulebook offers, but do so as a starting point—picking and choosing the things you want in your setting, adjusting the odds of those things appearing, and essentially discarding the rest.

Doing so also helps stimulate the imagination—as you craft your tables, you’ll sub-consciously start to create trends and define distinct areas of the setting. By placing certain encounters in different places, you’re forced to think about who’s in your setting and what they’re doing there. Naturally, you’ll then need to figure out the “why,” which of course comes in handy when you’re planning adventures or even running a hex crawl for your group.

Finally, all this gives you an opportunity to create connections between encounters that might otherwise be ignored, and these can form adventure hooks, or just good setting detail.

Next week, I’ll take a stab at a quick-and-dirty encounter table format that should have you populating your setting in record time.

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1. These templates are available for download on the Hex Templates page.

The Babbling Bane shared his comments about mounts. I offered kobolds mounted on battle lobsters. Then, thinking about it in Chimera terms, I opted for newtlings on giant crayfish:

Newtling (Lvl 0)
Movement Rate: 8±1d4 (swim 12±1d4)
Wound Limit: 2 (S)
Defence: 1 (+2)
Abilities: Fight +0, Shoot +1, Sneak +2
Attacks: 1 javelin +1(IM +1, Dmg 1d4; Rng (2”)); 1 bite +0 (IM +1, Dmg 1d4)
Special: Nimble, Wallwalker, Venom✝
Resistance: +0
Surprised: 8
Morale: 16
Alignment: Neutral
Frequency: Uncommon (4d6)

Newtlings are 2’ tall, bipedal salamanders who dwell in humid caves or rainy jungles. Newtlings make basic tools for hunting and defence; they fashion armour from the leathery shells of reptile eggs, which they steal for food and to reduce competition whenever possible. In battle, their bite can inject a mild toxin (RR: TN 8 or Dmg 1d4), though against non-animal foes, they wield miniature javelins, which they can hurl at opponents or carry into melee. Newtlings undergo the life stages common to amphibians; there may be species variations based on red efts, spotted salamanders, or others.

Battle Lobster

Battle Lobster (Lvl 2)
Movement Rate: 12±1d6 (8±1d4 while mounted)
Wound Limit: 3 (M)
Defence: 3 (+1)
Abilities: Athletics +2
Attacks: 2 pincers +2 (IM +0, Dmg 1d6)
Special: Grip✝
Resistance: +2
Surprised: 10
Morale: 14 (12 while mounted)
Alignment: n/a
Frequency: Rare (1d4+1)

Battle lobsters are giant crayfish bred by newtlings as mounts. They are habitually poked and half-starved to keep them aggressive. In battle, newtlings use the lobsters’ long antennae as reins and thus maintain tight control over movement and direction. When confronted, a mounted battle lobster brandishes its pincers to keep an enemy at bay, giving the rider an opportunity to hurls javelins at various targets whilst being protected from frontal melee attacks (a battle lobster carries 1d4 loads of javelins in quivers lashed to its carapace).

As point of fact, these were created in just a few minutes with the Chimera Create-A-Beastie guidelines.

Other News

My head is down, but not in shame. I’ve been working hard on a new way of doing Chimera that I think will be useful for both you and me. I don’t want to reveal too much, for fear of being scooped by my many industry rivals [1], but suffice to say that it will allow me to release material much faster, allow you to edit what I release, and give both of us the flexibility to customise the game to our little d20-shaped hearts’ content.

The downside, if any, is that this will appeal more to those who use their laptops at the gaming table, though dead-tree versions are certainly possible. Personally, I do like dead trees at the table, but only for encounter notes and jotting down bits of information here and there. We’ve seen rule systems grow from hard-bound tomes to PDFs. But the trend toward electronic will continue to the point that it becomes the default format, growing beyond PDFs with the option of self-editing and the question of printing left to the consumer (who may use a Lulu, Staples, the colour printer at the office, or the ol’ reliable deskjet at home).

Anyway, this is my Alvin Toffler moment, and we’ll see what happens. Bottom line, however, is that it’ll be easier for me and useful for all; truth be told, that’s a good starting point for any publisher. Expect this to blow your mind in early January 2012.

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1. Even my tombstone will be sarcastic…

More random thoughts that may or may not warrant exploration, expansion, discussion, or even middling attention.

On Being Trained Up
I don’t like negative modifiers to die rolls. I think it’s because I add faster than I subtract. To remedy one area where this annoys me, I’ve decided that when you attempt an untrained Ability in Chimera, instead of taking a -4 penalty to your 1d20 roll, you just make the Action Roll with a 1d12.

Now, I realise that, maximum result-wise, that’s a difference of 8 points, which seems twice as bad as the existing -4 penalty in the Chimera Basic rulebook. But, no subtraction. Mechanically, all it means is that the only way you can succeed, untrained, at a Difficult or harder action (TN 13+) is with the aid of situational advantages. Done.

You like-a the sauce?

Embarking from the Foreign Quarter
Assuming your fantasy campaign is as xenophobic as medieval Europe was, then the foreign quarters of its cities will be unpleasant places. By “foreign,” I mean anyone who’s not (1) a native son or (2) rich (i.e., most adventurers). For clarity, the Foreign Quarter is not where diplomats live and work—that’s the Diplomats’ Quarter—it’s where immigrants are settled because they’re heretical, disease-ridden, hard to understand, and bad cooks. [1]

Inhabitants are more likely to take the law into their own hands, provided it involves other foreigners, mostly because city authorities are more interested in the non-Foreign Quarters. Inside, local coinage may not be accepted, though there will be many things to buy, wondrous to see. Rumours abound, especially those dealing with far-away places that locals have only heard about. Common goods may be of lower quality (for lack of decent raw materials), though certain foreign wares—unavailable anywhere else—will be top notch. This is how you might get a bunch of retainers armed with scimitars instead of short swords, or a character with actual Greek Fire instead of crappy lamp oil.

Odd Dream featuring Zak S.
This happened back in August. Normally, I’d say it was my subconscious mulling over something I read on Zak’s blog. But the synopsis of my recollection (and what I wrote down upon waking) doesn’t really bear that out. To whit:

• I took a NY subway to Zak’s house (not sure which train)
• His yard was filled with lots of people, each with their own handshake (I placed my left-hand pinky in the wrong position, and the guy said “That’s how the girls do it.” I apologised, and he smiled, saying “That’s cool.”).
• Zak and I exchanged Dr. Benway quotes in his backyard
• There was a big flying beetle in the yard, like two-and-a-half inches long, and it flew onto my hand, biting my thumb (right by the fingernail; I could feel this in the dream, like my thumb was asleep). I swatted it away and the beetle snapped off, with the head and mandibles still embedded in my thumb. Zak said something like, “That beetle only had 2hp.”
• Then Zak wanted to show me other bugs he had in the yard. There was a radish-sized beetle with a lumpy shell that was twice as high as the beetle was long. The shell could match the colour and shape of whatever leaf was nearest.
• There was also a basin of aquatic slugs. They were about a half-dozen in the basin, all submerged. Zak went to feed them meat from an eyedropper, and when he approached, the slugs reached their mouths—vertical, serrated slits—out of the water, like little C’thulhu koi in a pond.

I have no idea what most (any) of this means.

This took 1 click

Island Mapping Tool
MapGen2 – Generates islands and tiny archipelagos. Likes: random, creates rivers and mountain lakes, nice Polygon and 3D Slopes views. You can even export to XML, if you’re one of those freaks. Dislikes: Flash, the fact that it’s hosted on a university server (hint: get it before it goes away). That said, the author’s blog does seem current.

Also nice: there’s no scale, AND the map is rendered in a square window. So you could easily generate a nice-looking island and pop it into an Atlas or Regional hex template.

GM Life Stages
Start with published modules -> Tweak and customise those modules -> Write your own modules -> Write notes -> Show up with random tables and run the game on the fly. Thoughts?

Who Makes a Dungeon?
Maybe I have creative inertia, but lately I can’t justify dungeons. Small crypts, tombs, natural cave complexes, city sewers, catacombs, prisons, abandoned mines—all these are fine (in moderation).

But big dungeons? What for PCs to run amok in? I was embarrassed to admit this until Bane revealed similar consternation. I could see a few of the examples above, even multi-levelled, but they are easily over-used—like, there might be one (ONE) mad wizard who dug crazy tunnels under his tower, but that’s about it. Who builds  dungeons in your campaign, and why?

C'mpalla the Axe

Unfinished Projects
Let’s see, there’s 69 Villages and C’mpalla’s Saga. I haven’t forgotten, but other stuff does get in the way. For 69 villages, I’m working up some Inspiration Pad Pro tables to automate the process (almost done—just have to figure out the freeholder populations). The tables spit out slightly different results from what you get from the Medieval Demographics Tool, but it’s worth the effort. On the plus side, quick-and-dirty villages. On the downside, not much point in continuing the project once it’s done, because you’ll be able to make your own villages faster than I can post them. Though, continued application will suggest improvements…

C’mpalla’s Saga is actually done and written out—it’s a text file in my Chimera folder. I’m not sure whether to write it up as an after action report or annotate with Chimera-mechanics so you can see the dice behind the results. If the former, it’s pretty much just a story, which I think will be boring. If it’s the latter, then it’s a boring story with distracting annotations. Preferences?

Smale’s Laws of Roleplaying Games
Discuss:

1. Realism is inversely proportional to playability
2. Stat block size is inversely proportional to system flexibility
3. Character sheet presentation is a barometer of system complexity
4. The quantity of house rules is proportional to the game’s age

S&W Phase
I’m coming off my Swords & Wizardry phase. Now, please don’t take that as a shot against S&W. Every now and then—particularly as I’m cultivating  Chimera—it’s nice to work in a familiar landscape. And—quelle surprise—I finally realised that I can play more than one RPG without betraying the others.

I’ll continue to putter about with S&W, as there are many hacks house variants I have in mind. These will make their way into The Bastard’s Blade, a blog that covers a (highly) fictionalised Dark Age Christian Europe. I’ll be binge-posting there, so I can’t say when I’ll make updates, but when I do, they’ll be copious. And staggeringly brilliant.

Wither Chimera?
As S&W wanes, so waxes Chimera. I’ve been busy in Chimera-land: in the very (VERY) near future, you’ll be able to get your grubbies on a new electronic version that lets you make your own edits, add your own material, and manage your Chimera kit digitally. Suffice to say that I can release more material faster if I’m not jerking around with PDF layout. Hint: this project involves NBOS.

Release details will be posted to forum and newsletter subscribers.

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1. It should go without saying that this is not my view of immigrants, but instead the broad view of foreigners held by the Western European establishment during the Middle Ages.

Feature or Bug?—The monster list in Chimera Basic is scant.

I wanted to include more monsters but in truth, neither space nor available time were on my side. Which is an excuse, not an explanation. Monster books are well-nigh indispensable for the busy GM, particularly for those creating their own campaigns. Who am I to stand in the way of needful tradition?

Still, it’s very easy to create monsters for Chimera. The Basic rulebook provides examples and a few high-level guidelines, but you’ll probably need a few tries before it feels second-nature. You have to get your head around not only what the stats mean, but where you can (and should) improvise.

The step-by-step below is a (very) methodical approach, designed to take you the long way round the process. But it’s not the only way, and once you get familiar with the process, you’ll be able to churn our beasties without all this formality.

Creating Monsters in Chimera

Assuming you have an idea in your head about what the monster is and does, the step-by-step instructions below should get your bestiary stocked pretty quickly.

You can make these

1. Monster Size
When you’re making a monster, size matters. Assign a size from the Base Stats table (CB/21). If the size-based stats don’t fit your vision of the monster, stick with the size you’ve chosen and alter the stats with Perks, Flaws, Adaptations, and Level Bonuses below.

2. Name & Level
What’s the monster called and what’s his level? Remember that “level” in Chimera doesn’t equate to combat ability—it indicates overall capability. As such, it affects resistance rolls, surprise, morale, power effects, and a host of other game aspects. As a guideline, consider the following:

3. Wound Limit
Assign the WL value from the Base Stats table (CB/21). I usually record the monster’s Size code next to WL, but that’s just a hold-over from my Rules Cyclopedia days…

4. Defence & Parry
If the monster wears armour or carries a shield, consult the Armour table in the basic rulebook (CB/15) for DF and Parry.

Otherwise, use the following guidelines for base DF values:

For base Parry, use the greater of the following:

1. The size-based Initiative Modifier, but only if it’s +1 or more
2. If the monster has a multiple attack mode (e.g., 2 pincers, 8 tentacles, etc.), increase Parry by [# attacks - 1].

5. Abilities
Select whatever Abilities (CB/10) the monster possesses. Base AR values indicate how much experience or capability the monster has in each, as suggested below:

Note that “Nil” capability provides AR +0, meaning that monsters ignore the standard “untrained” penalty of AR -4 (CB/10). This is partially for ease of bookkeeping during an encounter and partially to give monsters a bit of an edge over characters (who have plenty of other advantages). If the monster is notably bad at something, don’t bother assessing a penalty–just rule that a given attempt succeeds only a Critical Success.

6) Attacks
Determine the monster’s mode of attack, either by weapon or via natural defences (claws, bite, tail whipping, projectile spines, whatever). Attack AR equals the monster’s Fight or Shoot modifier. For natural defences, the Attack AR equals the monster’s Athletics modifier; if the monster wields weapons, use the Fight or Shoot modifier. Base Initiative Modifier and Damage are based on monster Size.

If the monster has multiple natural attacks, make each slightly different. For instance a single bite might do size-based damage, while 2 claws might be faster or do 1 damage die smaller (e.g., 1 bite (Dmg 1d8) or 2 claws (Dmg 1d6)).

7. Resistance
Equal to level, possibly adjusted by Perks, Flaws, or Adaptations.

8. Surprised
This is the Sneak TN opponents need to surprise the monster, equal to [TN 8 + Level + Observe AR].

9. Morale
This is the Target Number the monster needs to succeed at a Morale check (CB/18), equal to [TN 16 - Level - Mettle AR].

10. Special
Assign any desired Perks, Flaws, or Adaptations (CB/11,21). Do this now, toward the end of the process, because your choices can adjust the base values already determined. There’s no limit to how many you might  pick—simply assign (or invent) whatever you need for the monster to do what it does or improve whatever stats you think need a boost. Remember that new Perks, Flaws, and Adaptations may be useful for other monsters (or even characters), so while it might be easier to just throw a couple of modifiers here and there, it’s smarter to give some thought to reusability.

11. Alignment
Assign based on GM preference. If the monster is an animal, plant, or non-sentient being, you can assign “n/a” to indicate that it has no real moral concerns and instead makes decisions based on instinct (or programming) alone. Alignment choice probably won’t affect game mechanics, but it might influence how you run the monster during an encounter.

12. Frequency & Number
Again, this is GM preference. Frequency is really only important when populating encounter tables, as suggested by the percentages in the Basic rules (CB/22).

Number, however, will dictate how many of the monsters characters will face during an encounter or in the monster’s lair. Note that frequency and number are unrelated—you could easily have a rare monster that appears in high numbers (meaning that it doesn’t show up often on an encounter table, but that when it does, there are a lot of ‘em).

13. Level Bonus (optional)
Distribute 1 point per level among the following stats, at your discretion: Movement Rate, Wound Limit, Defence, or Initiative Modifier (per attack). This represents “intangible” improvements to such aspects as a result of experience and being kick-ass. You may expand the list of improvable stats to include Resistance, Surprised, and Morale, but level is already included in these, so be careful about double-dipping.

14. Description
This is really a matter of available time and comfort level when running encounters. If you have a good handle on the monster’s appearance, habits, tactics, and ecology, and your memory is iron-clad, then skip this. Otherwise, make a few notes about these things. At minimum, include some combat details to guide you during a fight.

I recommend including at least one or two details about ecology, like “Scentipedes hunt only at night,” or “Dick Cheney derives energy from the souls of those who trust him.” These bits might not be evident during an encounter, but they may inform other GM decisions, like the layout of the monster’s lair, the monster’s priorities (and morale), and how the monster might respond to external threats.

Final Words

Here’s a quick example, made with the method above:

White horned ape

Ape, white horned (Lvl 3)
Movement Rate: 12±1d8
Wound Limit: 5 (L)
Defence: 3 (+1)
Abilities: Athletics +4, Fight +2, Sneak +1
Attacks: 1 horn +4 (IM -1, Dmg 1d8); 2 fists +4 (IM +0, Dmg 1d6)
Special: Charge (w/horn), Resilient, Tough
Resistance: +3
Surprised: 11
Morale: 13
Alignment: Neutral
Frequency: Rare (1d4+1)

White horned apes dwell in remote hills and caves. They attack intruders on sight, initially charging with their horn (Dmg 2d8), then pummeling foes with their mighty fists. Most victims are torn up and eaten, though some (10%) are kept as “pets,” forced into a life of docility as they are force-fed, tended, and groomed. White horned apes are brutish and dumb, hunted almost to extinction on some worlds, for their horn has a variety of uses (d6: 1 aphrodisiac; 2 improves Conjuration powers; 3 used to make gun lubricant; 4 promotes hair growth; 5 preserves shellfish; 6 weak magnetic properties).

My wife has an uncanny ability to make staggeringly good Netflix choices. I’ve learned to trust her judgement in this. I mean, I’m responsible for bringing Knowing into our home, so my credibility is highly suspect.

The Descent (2005)

Last week’s pick was The Descent (2005). Never heard of it. It’s about 6 chicks in a cave. It’s dark and they freak out. Sounds iffy, but there’s a cave, so that’s cool.

About 40 minutes in, the movie turns into a dungeon crawl. Very cool, and I’m now watching with my Chimera Goggles. My wife triumphs again.

All GMs must see this because it shows you what scampering about in a cave is really like. It’s dark. It’s cramped. It’s wet and slimy. Did I mention that it’s dark? There are cliffs, pits, deadfalls, pools of stagnant disgusting water. There are bones. Not one gold piece. Just an old rusted helmet left behind by some poor sod who presumably never made it back to the surface.

Ever run a group of characters through a cavern? They’re swinging swords, have all the rope in the world, and probably didn’t bother to mention that they’re lighting like 20 torches because otherwise they can’t see a damn thing. Plus, if they’re wounded, they don’t worry about stuff like climbing, crouching, irregular floors, and bones protruding out of their shins.

But in terms of cave geography, The Descent does a good job of conveying the claustrophobic conditions. There are a few large caverns, but most of the shots are narrow and very irregular passages where walking upright is not an option. Check this to see what I mean:

Oh, yeah. Did you see that creepy dude at 1:20? Just your bog-standard caveman adapted to living two miles underground. They’re called crawlers, and they do awful things to the party. If you were playing Chimera, they’d look something like this:

Crawlers

Crawler

Crawler (Lvl 1)
Movement Rate: 12±1d6
Wound Limit: 3
Defence: 0 (+2)
Abilities: Athletics +2, Fight +1, Observe +2, Sneak +4, Spelunking +4
Attacks: 1 bite +1 (IM +1, Dmg 1d6); 2 claws +1 (IM +1, Dmg 1d6)
Special: Hypersensitive, Imp. Nimble, Quick Draw, Wallwalker
Resistance: +1
Surprised: 9
Morale: 15
Alignment: Chaotic
Frequency: Rare (1d10+10)

Crawlers are a race of caveman fully adapted to life underground. They possess animal intelligence and communicate to each other via throat clicks and grunts; these convey only rudimentary messages (e.g., attack, food, danger, time to mate, etc.). Hairless and devoid of pigmentation, crawlers are entirely blind and have a poor sense of smell, though they can “see” via echolocation, much like a bat; they are highly sensitive to sound and are surprised only if an opponent’s Sneak roll is a Critical Success.

Crawlers live in small clans within labyrinthine cavern networks, occasionally venturing to the surface at night to hunt. In their element, crawlers are able trackers (via Spelunking Ability) and will attempt to split up intruders and “herd” individuals into ambush sites. For this purpose, crawlers can traverse vertical or inverted surfaces at their full movement rate. All clan members fight, and there is always one dominant male who leads by force (stats as above, save WL 4, DF 1 (+2), and Fight +2).

The race is rare and found only in isolated wilderness areas. It’s supposed that they are remnants of early humans whose development lead them deep underground, where they evolved into degenerate animals. Crawlers neither use nor fashion tools of any sort—no armour, no weapons, no simple machines, not even fire. They possess nothing of value save for what might lie discarded among the bones in their refuse pits.

Some Other Cave Notes

When your character is in a cave, the GM will tell you if you have room to stand or not. If not, then movement is limited to your creeping rate. Movement is further restricted by armour bulk: Medium armour is MR -1 and Heavy armour is MR -2. In combat, any shield or weapon-based parry bonus is negated and attacks are limited to unarmed or Small weapons only.

Narrow passages are difficult to traverse, and at the GM’s option, you may need an Athletics roll to get through them (at best, consider them Difficult (TN 12) for such purposes, penalized by armour bulk as above). Failure indicates that you can’t proceed; a Critical Failure means you’re stuck and require the aid of comrades to get free (or perhaps another Athletics roll with a Critical Success if you’re on your own). A Spelunking roll may be substituted for characters who are good at caving.

Visibility is severely limited. In a narrow passage, any light source penetrates no more than 1″ in any direction (a successful Observe roll doubles this, while a Spelunking roll quadruples it, though the twisting nature of a given passage might block line of sight). Unless you’re checking the route ahead, you run the risk of falling in any pit, chasm, or pool that may be in your path. Avoiding these almost always requires gear (rope, pitons, spikes, etc.), so the GM must enforce gear checks for both light sources and caving equipment (qualified characters may make gear checks with the Spelunking Ability).

Brendan over at Untimately revealed Tuesday that he is actually a True Neutral Human Rogue. He comes by this knowledge via Easydamus’ What Kind of D&D Character Would You Be? quiz.

Having pondered this exact question since 1983, I visit the Oracle at Easydamus, who subjects me to a battery of questions. Piercing inquiries that necessitate introspection. Would I betray a friend? Would I give to the poor? Would I rather be smart or strong? Like Conan, I am asked what’s best in life.

I answer truthfully, keeping mental track of where each question is leading. Given my frail limbs, lack of coordination, and bookish nature, I strongly suspect I am a magic-user of some sort. Neutral to Good. Definitely a human.

So you can imagine the purity of my WTF moment when I’m assigned this:

I Am A: Chaotic Neutral Halfling Ranger (5th Level)

Ability Scores:

Strength-9

Dexterity-13

Constitution-10

Intelligence-15

Wisdom-12

Charisma-14

Alignment:
Chaotic Neutral A chaotic neutral character follows his whims. He is an individualist first and last. He values his own liberty but doesn’t strive to protect others’ freedom. He avoids authority, resents restrictions, and challenges traditions. A chaotic neutral character does not intentionally disrupt organizations as part of a campaign of anarchy. To do so, he would have to be motivated either by good (and a desire to liberate others) or evil (and a desire to make those different from himself suffer). A chaotic neutral character may be unpredictable, but his behavior is not totally random. He is not as likely to jump off a bridge as to cross it. Chaotic neutral is the best alignment you can be because it represents true freedom from both society’s restrictions and a do-gooder’s zeal. However, chaotic neutral can be a dangerous alignment when it seeks to eliminate all authority, harmony, and order in society.

Race:
Halflings are clever, capable and resourceful survivors. They are notoriously curious and show a daring that many larger people can’t match. They can be lured by wealth but tend to spend rather than hoard. They prefer practical clothing and would rather wear a comfortable shirt than jewelry. Halflings stand about 3 feet tall and commonly live to see 150.

Class:
Rangers are skilled stalkers and hunters who make their home in the woods. Their martial skill is nearly the equal of the fighter, but they lack the latter’s dedication to the craft of fighting. Instead, the ranger focuses his skills and training on a specific enemy a type of creature he bears a vengeful grudge against and hunts above all others. Rangers often accept the role of protector, aiding those who live in or travel through the woods. His skills allow him to move quietly and stick to the shadows, especially in natural settings, and he also has special knowledge of certain types of creatures. Finally, an experienced ranger has such a tie to nature that he can actually draw on natural power to cast divine spells, much as a druid does, and like a druid he is often accompanied by animal companions. A ranger’s Wisdom score should be high, as this determines the maximum spell level that he can cast.

Find out What Kind of Dungeons and Dragons Character Would You Be?, courtesy of Easydamus (e-mail)

Detailed Results:

Alignment:
Lawful Good ----- XXXXXXXXXXXXXX (14)
Neutral Good ---- XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX (19)
Chaotic Good ---- XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX (20)
Lawful Neutral -- XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX (16)
True Neutral ---- XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX (21)
Chaotic Neutral - XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX (22)
Lawful Evil ----- XXXXXX (6)
Neutral Evil ---- XXXXXXXXXXX (11)
Chaotic Evil ---- XXXXXXXXXXXX (12)

Law & Chaos:
Law ----- XXXX (4)
Neutral - XXXXXXXXX (9)
Chaos --- XXXXXXXXXX (10)

Good & Evil:
Good ---- XXXXXXXXXX (10)
Neutral - XXXXXXXXXXXX (12)
Evil ---- XX (2)

Race:
Human ---- XXXXXXXXXXXXX (13)
Dwarf ---- XXXXXX (6)
Elf ------ XXXXXXXXXX (10)
Gnome ---- XXXXXXXXXX (10)
Halfling - XXXXXXXXXXXXXX (14)
Half-Elf - XXXXXXXX (8)
Half-Orc - XX (2)

Class:
Barbarian - (-4)
Bard ------ (-4)
Cleric ---- (-2)
Druid ----- (-2)
Fighter --- XX (2)
Monk ------ (-17)
Paladin --- (-25)
Ranger ---- XXXXXX (6)
Rogue ----- (0)
Sorcerer -- XXXX (4)
Wizard ---- (0)

Aside from the fact that I’m wiser than 12 (and probably weaker than 9)…a halfling? As in Bilbo? I mean, I like a sweater vest and my pipe as much as the next guy, but that came out of nowhere. “In a hole in the ground, there lived…me?” Not bloody likely.

I am Sam

BUT, if you think of a halfling as just a short human who likes a slice of pie and a cup of tea while reading by the fire and wearing driving gloves and a Harris tweed suit when he goes a-motoring with Mr. Toad on pleasant Saturdays, then OK, I’m a halfling. Except I really am taller than 3’ and the doors in my house are rectangular. Still, I am daring in a way that larger people can’t match. That’s for damn sure. And—I confess it—I much prefer a comfortable shirt over bling…

The Chaotic Neutral thing was unexpected, too. But it makes sense in an odd sort of logic. As the do-whatever-you-want alignment, CN always struck me as the lazy approach to ethos. Like, “I can’t be labelled, man.”

But given that sentiment, how would a CN person think of himself? Definitely not evil, and probably with some realization of his middle-of-the-road tendencies. In other words, Neutral Good. Which is what I predicted. So the lesson here is that unless you’re a polar extreme (like a paladin, for which I rated “-25”), you probably think you’re a better alignment than you really are. Put another way, I didn’t realize I was Chaotic Neutral because I’m Chaotic Neutral.

Now, the ranger thing is completely inexplicable. Looking at the class scores, Sorcerer “4” is on the right track. Wizard “0” is disappointing (though I realize that I do not understand the distinction between these two magic-user-sounding professions). Likewise, Fighter “2” makes sense, in that it’s a low score. But ranger “6”?

Easydamus is has mistaken me for Aragorn. It is true that I’m an Eagle Scout. I’m also a Vigil member in the Order of the Arrow (which, if you’re not familiar, is like the SS of the Boy Scouts). I can survive in the woods with an orange, an egg, a single match, and a pocket knife. I have eaten raw meat in a shelter made of ferns.

But the only scene Aragorn and I have in common is smoking a pipe in a dark corner of a crowded inn. Watching people and looking mysterious. Which I can definitely do. But I am absolutely sure that I cannot fight ringwraiths with torches, nor is it likely that I can command an undead army. While I could probably find a medicinal herb in the forest, there is no way on this or any other Earth that I can track orc raiders halfway across the continent. Vengeful grudge? If I had to choose, it would be against Christopher Columbus.

But there it is. Confidently, Easydamus tells me that I’m a pipe-smoking woodsman dressed like a Kenneth Grahame character who doesn’t give a toss about anything. Which sounds unlikely until you also see that I’m 5th-level at it, which means that I’m quite good. Or at least that there’s some future in it.

Bonus: I went to the Hobbit Name Generator to top this one off. You may now refer to me as “Till Maggot of Loamsdown.”

Here’s the 4th village for the 69 villages project, the second of in the “random results only” format that’s designed to save me time and give GMs more flexibility.

Good news is that I’ve gotten “production” time down to 30 minutes, including the map. Bad news is that I’m seeing a not-great trend with certain random results. Check the overview below and see if you can spot the same trend I’m seeing.

Village Overview

Kash
Population 250; Chaotic with few laws

Kash (1 hex = 50')

Ruled by House Ikrogri

• Matriarch is middle-aged and savvy (AL Neutral)
• Medium household of 13 members
• Average influence with appreciable holdings (18 regional hexes)
• Recently achieved Pyrrhic military victory
• Currently acquiring land supporting a special feature
• Secretly harbours a band of foreign spies

First Impressions

• People here are known for their potentcy
• Crime Rate: 4d6 [roll each week: every "1" indicates a crime; PCs are victims if the 4d6 roll exceeds total party level]
• Spending Limit:
• Recent Events: Disaster caused by disease
• Worth Checking Out: Plagued by flocks of beady-eyed carrion birds

Population Breakdown

• Ruling House: 13
• Officers: 4
• Clergy: 2 [lesser priests]
• Freeholders: 19 [1 charcoaler, 2 cobblers, 2 furriers, 1 glassworkers, 1 jeweler, 1 litigant, 1 metalsmith, 2 millers, 2 tailors, 1 tanner, 1 tavern, 1 vintner, 1 weaponcrafter, 1 weaver, 1 woodcrafter]
• Citizens: 211 [1 hireling]
• Buildings: 70 [1 mansion, 1 church, 23 businesses, 1 municipal, 44 homes]

Final Words

Have you identified the mystery trend that I don’t like? If you said, “The freeholder list is starting to look the same for every village,” then you get a gold star.

On one hand, this makes sense: given the populations required to support certain freeholders, the results are going to be fairly identical for any settlement with a population of 50-300 people.

But it’s not terribly exciting, and after a few villages, it’ll start to become boring (perhaps even predictable). This suggests that I might want an alternative to the Medieval Demographics Online tool for population generation (gasp!). Less drastically, I think I’ll tinker with how population breakdown is calculated. More to come on that front—suggestions welcome.