Cursing in Elvish Volume III, Number 2

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Editors Note: Well met again folks and welcome to issue number two of Volume III of Cursing in Elvish™. I had hoped that I could get this ‘zine out on a quarterly basis with this new edition, but it wasn’t to be but 6(ish!) months between issues is not TOO bad!?. As you all know, 3rd Edition is well and truly with us now and I definitely believe it is a vast improvement over the old system. The new Realms Handbook is not half bad either. I know that I’m still a little bit rusty with a rule every now and then (as we all are, I think) but beyond a few teething problems, I think the game has gone fairly well. What do you guys think? Anyway, another exciting, bumper issue of CIE for you to enjoy. My thanks to Cyril, Jim, Colum and Paul for their contributions this time around. As always, if there is any form of article you wish to write and/or letters you or one of your characters wishes to submit to the letters page, then please provide me with same whenever you like and I will have them for future issues. Needless to say, (constructive) criticisms of my campaign (criticisms of my campaign?, never!? ) will also be taken on board and problems will be resolved where practicable. Anyway, as far as this issue goes, inside you will find the ever interesting and controversial letters page (well, maybe), some great articles, some great stories and, most importantly, as always, a Fantasy/Realms(ish) crossword. You may have noticed that the “prize” of one year’s free drink for the character of your choice in a Tavern of your choice, sponsored by Chaos Cola, has been removed from the crossword page in the new edition of CIE. Arle, CEO of Chaos Cola, has informed me that the prize has been removed because of a perceived lack of interest from the CIE readership re the crossword (due to the small amount of correct entries reaching the editor’s desk here at CIE) and has nothing to do with the rumoured financial difficulties being experienced by that Company. Anyway, hope you all enjoy the crossword and, for that matter, the entire issue of Cursing in Elvish™, Volume III, No. 2. Until next time…. May all your threats be criticals…… Mel Dungeon Master and Editor. 1379 (Yr of the Portal)

Contact the Editor of Cursing in Elvish by e-mail: Brunswick@eircom.net

Just when you thought it was safe……… it’s the return of the return of the letters page…………

……RETURNS Hello All. Just heard that “the Blackstaff” has finally admitted that he is a Lord of Waterdeep and also that he has formally resigned as a Lord – Is this for real? Jasmine Heller Mage about Town. Ed: Maybe there is a vacancy for a smart and sophisticated editor now? : ) Greetings Editor. I am a long time reader (been here since Volume I) and really miss your old cartoon strips – I mean, whatever happened to good ould Grish and Snarf. They were excellently drawn and very funny. Ed: The cartoon strip was indeed good, but, unfortunately, Grish and Snarf will not be re-appearing in CIE for some time. To the Concerned Citizen of the City of Splendours (from last issue) Tell me where you live so this swaggering hero can shove the mysterious fog up yer a**. Angry adventurer from the City of Splendours. Russell, Its OK, I have enough for next time – cheers, sweetie! ‘ganna

Tales From Another Dimension By the “Ghost Writer” (aka Jim Lucas)

There are stories told of travellers who have come worlds and places other than Toril and indeed of denizens of Faerun who have travelled beyond these fair lands. It is rumoured that the great Elminster himself has frequently travelled beyond the boundaries that surround our world. In my travels, I have heard tales of ships that traverse far beyond Toril and indeed have reached other different planets. There are tales of a world where dragons are not the mysterious creatures that inhabit the Spine of the World as here but are part of the every day life of the people. What a world that must be. There is another world, a great desert world where they say that metal and water are more precious than gold and jewels. There is supposed to be a world very similar to ours where all the nations have just been at war with each other and there has been great tragedy. What lessons we could learn from this. I have heard tales also of those who have travelled beyond the Prime Plane to planes occupied by demons and other vile creatures. I listened to the ramblings of an old drunk in a tavern who told me he was born in a city at the centre of the multiverse, home to demons, celestials, humans, demi-humans and creatures beyond my wildest dreams. I would scarcely have paid him the time of day were it not for his cloven feet which he showed me to back up his tale. It cost me a few silver pieces and a bottle of wine or two but his tales were good. As I have travelled the Realms, I have heard stories and passed them on to those willing to listen. Some of my stories have even been about my own exploits. One of my travelling companions is a man raised from the dead and one that some would consider evil. Perhaps he was and maybe still is but he is my friend and I hope to see him redeemed some day. But it is by way of speaking of the recently dead that my tale for today begins. My companions and I were exploring some caves a few days north of Waterdeep in the months towards the end of last year. Winter was scant weeks away and we hoped to find something we could trade to pay for our winter billet back in the city. My friends had their ‘guildhouse’ to stay in and I could always rely on my singing to put a roof over my head and a warm meal in my stomach but we still needed hard cash for the other creature comforts. What we found was a lot more astounding. On entering the main cave we saw something man-shaped sitting by a fire. It was huddled over the fire with a blanket of some kind drawn over its head. The cave had a heavy odour and not just the smoke from the fire. I was fairly certain that it come from our friend. We approached with caution when suddenly he threw off the blanket and spun around pointing a small metal object at us. It was a man after all but strangely garbed. He spoke in a language I had never heard before. I tried to appeal to him that we were not his enemies but it was clear that he no more understood me than I him. Then a

very loud noise erupted followed by two or three more in very quick succession. I felt my body take a hit as if struck by an arrow or bolt but there was none. I could see blood oozing from my right shoulder and the pain was such that I dropped the sword I was carrying. My two companions had also been hit by these magical missiles and we were all now weaponless. That seemed to be enough for our ‘friend’ for now. He gestured that we move forward and away from our weapons. We did as he asked. Then he began to take an interest in our backpacks, which we handed over. He hastily ransacked my pack taking my rations. After examining the food he proceeded to devour it. I then offered him my canteen and he snatched it from me and drank heavily from it. I now tried to communicate with him again. He seemed calmer by now and less agitated. I repeated my name to him over and over and eventually I got his name, Billy, Billy Williams. I remembered an old spell I had picked up and never used before and began to sing. I could not play my lute, as the pain in my shoulder was getting intense. Both my companions were also hurt and bleeding. Billy started to look at me strangely as I sang. “What the hell are you singing for?” “Just that”, I replied, “Now we can understand each other.” “Are you some sort of huckster?” “No. I’m what’s called a bard, a wandering minstrel, a teller of stories and a singer of songs.” “I’ve come across your lot in the saloons and cathouses out west. You stay over there, girly man.” “What? No I’m nothing like that. You’ve got the wrong idea.” “Look all I know you and your friends, you come in here, swords drawn, you’re dressed funny. Wheres your rods for Pete’s sake?” “I don’t have a rod, I’m not a mage. Neither are my friends. And who is this Pete?” Then one of my companions spoke up. “We don’t like mages, the last one we knew killed me.” Billy looked straight at him. “You’re dead? No. I can’t sense anything from you; you must have great control over your manitou. Only Ab… I mean the Ghost has ever shown anything like that.” “No,” he said. “I’m not dead. Not anymore. My friends here arranged for me to be raised.” With that Billy grabbed him by the wrist. “A pulse? You are alive. Who did this? I must find them.”

“We can take you but our friend is hurt and so are we.” Then our new companion took bandages from his own pack and heated a large dagger-sized blade, but strangely shaped, in the fire. When it was very hot he began to use the blade to cut into our wounds and remove small metal objects he called bullets.

Whatever they were, they had not been fired by any sling I knew of. He told us that his weapons were called guns and they used a powder to project the metal at great speed. I had heard tales of such explosive powder in faraway Kara-Tur but never of it being so powerful. By now, we had learned that Billy had chased a creature into someplace called the Hunting Grounds. He eventually killed his prey but found himself totally lost. He had wandered for days and his supplies long run out when he came across the portal that brought him here to these caves. At first he had assumed that he was still on his world or as he strangely said, “Not in Kansas, anymore.” With our wounds treated, we were feeling a bit more comfortable. Luckily, I had a few potions, which we used to build our strength back up. From Billy’s story I knew he had come from a very strange world indeed. At first I thought he was describing Maztica but it soon became obvious that there were a lot of differences between his place of birth and Toril’s recently discovered continent. America was a continent being fought over by two powerful factions, something Billy called the Union and the other the Confederacy. The war had been going on for over a decade with neither side making any great headway against the other. While the war was going on on the eastern side of the continent, (Billy was able to show us a rough map) out in the even more uncivilised west, strange things were happening. Billy, himself had been a soldier but had given up the war to head west where he became a lawman in a small frontier town for awhile. Then about three years or so ago, he was shot dead by another gunman. Sometime later, he awoke and climbed out of his grave. An evil spirit had inhabited his body but somehow he had fought it and was in control. His ‘life’ since then has been a constant struggle. He told us that people like him were called harrowed. Most harrowed spent most, if not all, of their time possessed by their demons, only the strong-willed were capable of suppressing them for any length of time. He also said that right now his manitou was very quiet. He reckoned that it was cut off from its masters, the Reckoners, and was willing to let Billy take charge and keep them both alive. Billy told us about his life since being ‘reborn’. Obviously he could not return to his former life as most people assumed him dead. He had spent the last few years travelling the ‘Weird West’ as he called it with a few companions, fighting the Reckoners and their minions. He told us that only a handful of people really knew what was going on out west and it was best to keep it that way. The more people

knew, the more fear spread. And fear was the Reckoners best weapon. They thrived on it, the more fear, the stronger they got.

Billy and people like him took care of things as quietly as possible. He told us about secret organisations within each government, Union and Confederate, and how their agenda had less to do with the war and more to stopping the Reckoners. To the Rangers, people like Billy were not to be trusted and were to be killed on sight. While the Agency had a similar official policy, there were certain leniencies and exceptions, Billy included. Thus it was while on a job for the agency that Billy ended up in the Hunting Grounds, the home to the Reckoners and their manitou minions. He had left his companions behind in a place called Arizona, feeling that as a harrowed he had a better chance at surviving there and they did. As I said earlier, he had succeeded in tracking and killing his prey but had gotten hopelessly lost. Eventually he found a portal that looked like the one he had came through and ended up in Fearun. Now his fear was that he might have led the Reckoners here. But he had a plan. Knowing that there existed on our world, the ability to raise the dead, Billy reckoned that such a power might restore his life-force and force the manitou to leave him. That should kill the demon and reduce the risk that it might make its masters aware of Toril. Then Billy wanted to reopen the portal and enter it sealing it from the other side so that his nemeses could never find their way here. Whether he succeeded or not is a tale for another night. And now my friends, if you please, a round of ales for Devlin the Bard and his companions, Trellis and Salamal.

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Another issue of CIE and another article on Alignment!!! By Cyril Dent

I think, after all these years of playing AD&D and seeing as how our characters are starting out in the new 3rd Ed rules, I feel that something is lacking with our character backgrounds. Generally, I think this lies in the alignment we play and the concepts we build for ourselves based on those alignments. It would be true to say that not everyone will agree with each other's definition of what each alignment should be. Which is good, because our alignment should not rule what our actions are but our actions should reflect our alignment. Personally, I would like something to help me define my character more and help guide me in role-playing the character. To this end, I have found one or two articles on the net that I have found useful and which I hope you will too. The first article "Alignment Breakdown" is a quick and easy way to give some depth to your character and a chance to give others an idea of their personality.

Editors Note: I have only printed ONE of the Articles on Alignment submitted by Cyril, this time. The rest will follow in future issues. However, I did put in the excellent extract (on the following page) from one of the other articles, at Cyril’s request. Totally agreeing with its sentiments myself, I felt that I just had to stick it in. Webmasters Note: Due to Cyril’s blatant plagiarism I have had to remove his pieces from the fanzine to avoid any possible copyright infringement.

Now and Clem Part Two

By Colum Mc Cormac

The smoke filled tavern air smelt sweet as meadow flowers. Crossing the wooden floor with confidence, Clem took a seat at the bar. Sitting side to the counter with back to a wall he could survey the inn as a whole. There were the usual local types. Mostly middle aged men playing various games of dice or strategy on wooden boards. A group of younger men engaged in some more serious looking conversation were gathered around two tables displaying a number of empty tankards. An old couple in the corner playing battered instruments supplied a gentle background music. Gathered around the fire were a band of mismatched travellers eating from what looked like a large pot of stew suspended over the flames. They were six in total. Pretty standard types found in many inns on the road. Their profession was clear from the weapons visible on belts and leaning against chairs. Their ragtag appearance confirmed them as independents rather than a militia or guard group. Anyway, one of them at least was never going to be mistaken for a guard. Fine golden red curls framed a small sunbrowned face of a truly beautiful girl. Clem could not help his stare. She was also looking around the room and her eyes glanced at him once but did not stay. He, however, could not keep his away. ''What can I get you then young sir'' said a voice from his left side. Clem looked around quickly into the face of a sixtyish, balding man behind the bar. His broad smile showed from under an impressive bushy moustache and sideburns. He wore a white apron over a brown workshirt along with a large ring of gold in his ear. He leaned across the bar to Clem and whispered ''Gods she's pretty alright, fancy your chances do you?'' He leaned back and laughed lou d and deep. ''Well then ale, wine, spirit or food. Perhaps some of all. You look 'alf starved lad. Show your coin and I'll feed ye till ye burst.'' ''Ale, eh yes ale...and brandy.'' Clem glanced back at the girl by the fire but she was facing away from him now, absorbed in conversation with her companions. ''Sorry lad, show me show some coin first or I can nowt 'elp ye.'' Clem slowly placed a gold coin on the bar. ''I'll be wanting change,'' he said tapping the gold crown to re-enforce his meaning. ''Ye may change your mind on that after ye've tasted me ales and spirits lad. I brew it all meself ye see and there's none finer to be had for many a mile.'' ''Just serve, and leave me to judge the quality for myself.'' said Clem still staring at the woman by the fire. ''As ye please,'' said the barman as started pulling an ale but smiling all the same. A frothing tankard appeared on the the bar and in two long pulls Clem emptied it. ''Same again and bring some food this time.'' he called. He glanced around again and savoured the smell of the brandy the barkeep had placed by his hand before tossing his head back and sending it on the same road as the ale. He could feel the ache in his rear start to melt. It would take some time to get used to hor seback but it sure beat walking. Looking back towards the fire once more he was disappointed that the girl was still facing away from him. The barman arrived with his food, a plate piled high with steaming potatoes and generous slices of bacon. At the smell his stomach growled in response. Slices of cheese and onion were laid on an adjacent plate along with two thick slices of a dark bread. Clem began to eat. He ate slowly to enjoy the feeling. The second tankard of ale he also drank slowly and found that the barman's boast had been true. He was contemplating making a stay of a number of days or even a week when the barman returned. ''Well then, I was right was I not. Ye'll not be finding better fare than that in these parts I think you'll agree.''

''That may be so but I'll still be wanting change,'' said Clem as he slid the gold coin across the bar top. ''But fill another tankard and take for the night's lodging also.'' ''I've only one room available and that's got two beds. How does that suit ye. That group over yonder's taken the other three.'' ''That will be fine. Just ensure the bed is warmed before I retire.'' ''I thought ye were planning on giving that particular task to the wee red haired one over beyond.'' The barman laughed loudly again and headed for the fire with a tray of drinks. Clem scowled and continued drinking. The comfortable feeling spreading from his stomach to his head and limbs, fired by the ale and brandy, was reaching his loins. He looked over at the girl again. She was laughing at some joke shared with her companions. Her hair fell gloriously around her shoulders and as she tossed it back with one hand he caught the sight of her pale, slender neck and his heart rate almost doubled. ''More brandy'' he shouted to the far end of the room where the barman was studying a gaming board over the shoulder of another customer. A number of plans were mulling in Clem's mind regarding the object of his lust but none had solidified to anything he could work on when the door opened and a tall figure dressed in black stepped into the inn. Clem felt a strange feeling of premonition at that moment but could not decide if it was good or bad. Only then it struck him that someone might recognize the clothes and equipment he now s ported. He hoped that rider had come from a long way before dying on the back of his horse. For some reason Clem was impressed. The man entering was not so different to look at but his manner and bearing spoke a confidence of it's own. As he walked to the bar Clem could not help but notice that his red haired favourite watched the newcomer with an open stare. She quickly recovered and turned her attention back to her friends. Clem continued to examine the man who was now approaching the bar with a steady and sure stride. He had an atmosphere about him almost like an aura yet it was in a quiet manner that he spoke to the barman and then turned to sit on a stool facing the room with his elbows leaning on the counter behind him. He had shoulder length b lack hair and a well trimmed beard. His face was not handsome but angular and his eyes were as morning mist, grey and deep. His clothes were of good quality but not new and his boots were well worn and travelled. Resting on the floor beside him was a backpack and a small lute case. The barman returned with a plate of food and turning his back on the room the man began to eat hungrily. Clem glanced at the fireside group. They were all, the girl included, involved in their own matters. On an impulse he moved down the bar and sat beside the stranger. ''Do you mind if I sit with you,'' he inquired. The man smiled slightly at him and waved his hand in a gesture of consent, then continued eating. He finished his meal unhurriedly and belched once. ''My mother always warned me to beware of strange men in taverns,'' he said as he pushed the plate away and reached for a full tankard. He turned around to face Clem and grinned. ''However I have learned that not all men in taverns are strange, so, to your health.'' He raised the tankard and drained it in one. Turning his back to the bar once more he surveyed the room in some detail. Clem couldn't but notice that his eyes paused longest on the girl by the fire. Clem's eyes were drawn to her also. He felt the blood warm his face while he admired her body and the long fine hair falling down her back. He felt an urge to just walk over and place his hands under that hair and caress the smooth skin of her neck. The room felt suddenly warm and a little oppress ive. ''Well then, that brandy of yours is looking more than a little neglected. If you would allow me to ask our good innkeeper to replenish your cup I would be happy to join you in one of the same.'' Clem looked at the man beside him. His voice had an unusual, quiet yet strong timbre. He spoke in a lilting way with an accent Clem had not heard before but his words were precise and clear. Looking directly into his face and particularly those almost shining grey eyes he could once more feel that presence the man exuded. His age was hard to judge being somewhere between thirty and fifty years though his skin showed no lines nor his hair any grey. His nose was narrow and straight, cheekbones high and he had fine eyebrows almost like a woman's. One hand delving into his waistcoat pocket he was speaking to the barman ordering two more brandies.

''I'd be glad to take your offer,'' said Clem ''but it's my turn next.'' The man smiled and nodded. ''That's a fair deal then.'' The barman placed two clay cups on the counter and moved off. ''Luthian Fairways is what they call me and with good reason as that's my name.'' Raising a cup towards Clem, he grinned. ''Clem of Middleton is how I am named but I have been called worse.'' Clem too picked up his cup from the counter. ''To all of the truly beautiful things of this world'' Luthian toasted ''Well met Clem of Middleton.'' As he spoke his eyes strayed again to the fireplace and the red haired girl. Clem's eyes followed. Brandy cup to lips he reviewed the group across the room. The girl was accompanied by a troupe of mixed appearance. They numbered five in all. Two were still wearing the under paddings of armored men having removed the protective outer equipment only. Both were tall but one had close cropped dark hair and an older face while one was more youthful and sported a long pony tail of brown hair braided down his back. This one's hand was resting on the back of the girl's chair in a pose set to look casual but Clem knew the real intent. The ma n's leg was leaning towards the girl also and his conversation was mostly in her direction. The other two members were more difficult to read. One was leaning back twisting his long and thick mustaches into upward pointing ends. He was going bald and ca rried a little weight but his clothes were fine made and expensive looking. He seemed somehow out of place with the others sharing the fire. The last was small in stature and approaching middle age but had an athletic looking frame noticeable due to ti ght fitting breeches and tunic. He wore soft doeskin boots and a belt on which could be seen both a dirk and quite a large dagger. His sleeves, rolled back to the elbow revealed tightly muscled forearms that were marked in a number of places with scars some appearing to be burn or scald marks rather than blades. His left wrist was encircled by a tattoo the exact nature of which Clem could not distinguish. A white scar ran from his temple down his cheek bone into the stubble on his chin. A tough looking , streetwise appearance, popular with many tavern regulars, did not look out of place on him. Examining the girl's clothing rather than trying simply to see through it Clem could see she was no milkmaid either. Her leather trousers were tied for horse riding and her footwear was strong and practical. Tucked into the right hand boot was a small dagger betrayed by the bulge it made and the two fingers of hilt that were protruding. She also wore a tight fitting, sleeveless leather jerkin laced up the side over a brown linen shirt. Clem was surprised to see she wore no rings or jewellery of any kind and her hands looked if anything a little large but it must have been her only fault as the rest of her was stunning. Long golden locks curled over a shapely figure and creamy pale skin that looked, to Clem, out of place in this setting. He felt the tightness of a wonderful tension across his lower belly and down to his groin. There was a sudden draft of air as the door opened and another three customers ent ered. Obviously locals they called greetings to various others around the room and seated themselves at a vacant table. The barman brought out three tankards of ale without waiting to be asked and pulled a seat over to sit with the three. Soon they were all laughing, the barman probably loudest of all. Clem stood and looked around needing to relive himself of those first ales. Luthian glanced at him and pointed to the back of the room. ''Beside the door to the kitchens'' was all he said. Urinating against a wall that had a channel running out to the back and a cess pit, Clem felt pleased with himself. He had coin in his pouch, a full stomach and a healthy glow about him emanating from the fine ale and brandy he had consumed. Finishing his busine ss he began to retie the lacings of his new leggings just as the two taller men entered. Paying no attention to him they continued their own conversation. ''Melcior, I'll get her tonight, I know it. I can feel it.'' The long haired one had his hand on the shoulder of the other and a wide grin on his face. ''Yeah, an' you've been saying that these five nights past. Give it a good shake when you're finished and say goodnight. That's all the action you'll be having unless you want to go and visit old twinkle fingers Randen later on. He's dreamt of a midnight visit from yerself for too long now. He's been watching you making out on that lass all night and I swear that if he twists that moustache once more the thing will come off in 'is fingers.''

The short haired man called Melcior laughed and proceeded to relieve himself against the wall. ''Believe me Tormen, You've met one who won't fall for that horse tail down yer back or that ferret you keep in yer trousers. You're wasting yer time lad and by the way the next round is yours so make mine an ale charged with brandy and don't skimp on it either.'' Clem finished his lacings and headed back to the bar. It seemed that the group had not been so long together and possibly the girl was not so committed to them as she might have been. The one called Tormen was only starting his approaches and was not doing all that well it seemed. As Clem walked back out into the bar his mind was plotting again. ''Two more brandies if you please'' he called out heartily to the barman and sat down beside Luthian once more. He smiled to himself and began watching the group at the fire carefully, not staring, stealing glances when he could, but taking all in.

To Be Continued…

THE GREAT CURSING IN ELVISH CROSSWORD

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15

16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34

Clues can be found on the next page

CROSSWORD CLUES ACROSS

1. Many headed snake (5) 8. The famous 3rd level wizard bolt spell (9) 9. This alignment is generally for those who like to sit on the fence (1) 10. Assassins training ground or to walk fast? (3) 11. Weapon for lopping trees? (3) 13. What you will do in Ten Towns with no protection? (6) 16. It is the ---- of the Portal at the moment (4) 18. Another name for Hill (3) 19. What we do with D&D (4)

21. An ancient Race (6) 23. Somewhat of a ‘mad’ alignment (1,1) 24. A character with low hps, hit by a fireball, might be reduced to this? (3) 25. The Stephen King novel with Pennywise in it (2) 26. What we do with D&D in and around 7pm on Saturday (3) 27. A tall adventurer entering a low dungeon must do this (5) 29. The famous half elf from Rivendell in Lord of the Rings (6) 31. Arrr! A favourite drink for pirates (3)

32. In the Realms, its known as Highsun (4) 34. Famous Lady, from Troy (5)

DOWN

1. The singing bird-like monster (5) 2. A lion’s lair or a group of thieves? (3) 3. The Christian name of one of the Sendant brothers (4) 4. The area most affected by a ghost attack on a character? (3) 5. See also 6 down. An infamous bunch of PCs from Tethyr (4,4). 6. See also 5 down. An infamous bunch of PCs from Tethyr (4,4). 7. This large monster is likely to Gore you?? (4) 11. A large amount of soldiers, gathered together (4) 12. A two headed version of 7 down (5) 13. The cause of the effect described at 4 down (6) 14. Speak friend and ? (5) 15. A famous text only adventure game for early computers (4) 17. An old unit of measurement (3) 19. Gary Gygax’s favourite weapon type? (7) 20. This Magic ‘Land’ card is particularly powerful with artifact decks, Tolarian ?

(7) 22. Basically, a large snake (7) 23. This would describe the ‘whole’ religion of a deity (6) 28. Another name for a barrel (3) 30. What would likely happen to an adventurer if s/he fought a dragon in 3rd Ed? (3) 33. A pleasant version of the words a player might say when his character just

died. Definitely not Ho Ho (2)

Third Ed. & D20. How did we get here? by Jim Lucas. Well, boys and girls, its time for a history lesson. This game, Dungeons & Dragons, D&D, AD&D, call it what you like, but it has a long and interesting history. And in case you don’t know it, I’m going to enlighten you. Even if you do know the history (or think you do) I’d still urge to read on as you might just find out something you didn’t know. The two men credited with starting the whole are E. Gary Gygax and Dave Arneson. They started off as tabletop war gamers, you know the guys, they rerun the battles of Waterloo and Gettysburg and wherever. Well these guys favourite era was the medieval era. So you could imagine them replaying Agincourt or Hastings or parts of the Crusades. Anyway, Gygax, in conjunction with a few others devised a set of rules for running combat, both at group and individual level. Working out of his basement, these rules were published as the Chainmail game in 1969. 32 years later the new version of Chainmail is due to be released by Wizards Of The Coast so you could say we’ve come full circle. The legend says that, influenced by an episode of Star Trek, Dave Arneson introduced an element of fantasy to their game. What started as specialised military units with wizards soon developed further. Where each player played a ruler sending out armies, diplomacy and intrigue were added to the mix. This led to sending out individuals, wizards and heroes to perform specialised missions. The players soon discovered they liked playing single characters better than military units. At that time, Gen Con was a gathering of tabletop gamers run by the Lake Geneva Tactical Studies Association of which Gygax and Arneson were members. The name Gen Con, by the way, was ‘nicked’ from the better-known Geneva Convention. When Arneson ran a scenario he had writte n for individual heroes at Gen Con 4 in 1971 in which Gygax played, the two decided they had the beginnings of a new game and decided to develop it further. They came up with the concept of character advancement by experience and gaining proficiency as he does. The new game, then called The Fantasy Game was touted by the pair to several companies who all rejected it; mainly on the grounds it had no ending or ways to win. Undaunted and now joined by Don Kaye and Brian Blume, they formed their own company, Tactical Studies Rules (again nicking the name from their local club), to market the “Fantasy wargame to be played with paper and pencil”. The game by now was named Dungeons & Dragons and had a selected availability during 1973; the original play testers so to speak. The official limited print run of 1,000 (the “white boxes”) in January 1974 sold out within the year. The boxed set had three books, Men & Magic, Monsters & Treasures, and Wilderness & Dungeon Adventures. They also recommended that players got a copy of Chainmail. The rules were obviously far more basic than these days, with three classes, Fighting Man, Magic-User and Cleric, four races, human, dwarf, elf and hobbit. The hobbit was later renamed halfling after legal threats by the Tolkien estate. Halflings and dwarves were limited to being fighters and in levels, while elves could switch between fighter and mage but only at the start of an adventure. Humans could be any class and any level. They borrowed from two other authors, using Jack Vance’s works to base their magic system on and Michael Moorcock’s works for their alignment ideas. The magic system is still essentially the same today, i.e., the mage must memorise each spell daily and then forgets it once cast. The alignment was originally just three, Law, Neutral & Chaos. The intention was that Law was good and Chaos evil. By now both Gygax and Arneson were running their own campaigns and as the game’s popularity grew they decided they publish material from them. First came Greyhawk, which introduced the Thief class among other things, followed by Blackmoor, which brought with it the Monk and Assassin classes and had the first module, Temple Of The Frog. Others followed which brought Druids, Psionics and several pantheons of Gods. There were also two magazines, The Strategic Review and The Dragon.

In 1975 Don Kaye passed on and Gygax and Arneson split up. Kaye’s widow decide to divide up the company leaving Gygax and Blume to set up TSR Hobbies Inc. By now the rules were spread across several books and Gygax himself had compiled a lot more unpublished material. They decided to release a new edition of the game. And here’s where it all got complicated. While continuing to publish Dungeons & Dragons (now called Basic D & D), they devised not a second edition but something they called Advanced Dungeons & Dragons. They released the Monster Manual in 1977, the Player’s Handbook in 1978 and the Dungeon Master’s Guide in 1979. All the time the basic game was in print, apparently because of legal disputes over royalty rights with Arneson. This was eventually settled out of court in 1981. The intention was that D&D would be the game that people would play and could modify with ‘house rules’ and add or drop bits as they saw fit. The AD&D rules were to be the standard official rules that would apply to tournaments. By 1980, TSR had also set up in the UK and the RPGA had been formed. The World of Greyhawk for AD&D was also released. AD&D exploded. By 1982 they had passed the 20 million sales mark and were published in several languages. It was probably around this time that I began to hear about the game. My dabblings led to the little shop just off Grafton St called The Diceman. It was there I first came across the famous ‘red box’ or the Basic D&D set. It seemed much easier to buy that than three different hardcover books that looked like daunting reads. Having combed through both books in the box several times I eventually persuaded a few fools to try out this new game with me. Once they were hooked, so was I and I made many more trips to that little shop including picking up those hardcover books eventually. But I wasn’t alone, AD&D was huge and TSR (the Hobbies by now dropped) pumped out sourcebooks and modules to beat the band. Most of the mo dules were set in Greyhawk, Gygax’s own campaign setting. TSR were also trying other genres, spies, westerns, sci-fi, even Marvel Super Heroes, but it was the fantasy genre where the bucks where. Other companies set up in competition and soon there were various RPGs on the shelves; some good, some bad, some still around today, others long gone. Then in 1984, came Dragonlance, 12 adventure modules linked by an overall storyline. While I never played them, I did buy and read the novels that accompanied them and again I wasn’t alone as the books topped the New York Times best-sellers lists. Not content, with the worlds of Greyhawk and Dragonlance, 1986 saw the release of Forgotten Realms, the campaign world of Ed Greenwood. By now the company had grown way beyond Gygax and he was on the way out so I suppose someone wanted to have something not connected with EGG. That was also the year that saw the new management buy out all the stock. The 80s were an incredible growth period for the company, changing its name yet again along the way to TSR Inc. Anyway, once again with the Realms, TSR had another hit on their hands. And once again, TSR found it had a game with its rules spread across several books and decided to revise the game. Thus was born AD&D 2nd Edition (technically the 3rd of course). Taking two years with a large creative team, 2nd Ed. was released in 1989 to a massive reception. Over the next few years, TSR expanded at an astonishing rate with new products. There were new settings for AD&D such as Ravenloft, Spelljammer, Planescape, Birthright, etc. They launched collectible Trading Cards, more novels and Gen Con was having record attendances. They revised and republished the core books (not a new edition). When CCGs became popular in the mid 90s they launched two of their own, Spellfire and Blood Wars. Of course, what happened was inevitable and they over -stretched themselves. Then, gasp; shock, horror, in 1997, they were bought out by the new kids on the block, Wizards Of The Coast. From Seattle, the company that sold more bits of cardboard than McDonalds had just acquired the granddaddy of fantasy gaming companies. At the time there was no doubt but RPGs were in decline and CCGs were everywhere. Three years later that was all to change. A lot of people in Wizards were gamers and despite being the supremos of the CCG game, a lot of them had a soft spot for RPGs especially AD&D. It was because TSR were in such financial straits and a number of Wizards’ people were desperate to save the game that Wizards actually bought out TSR.

A team were set up to begin that rescue. That’s where Ryan Dancey came in. For those old-timers who worship at the altars of Gygax and Greenwood, I think in time, Dancey will be up there with them. He borrowed a concept from the computer industry called the Open Software Foundation and touted the idea to WotC of the Open Gaming Foundation, which he set up. Ostensibly his idea was that, even in the bad old days towards the end of TSR, the core books were cash cows. While other stuff rotted in warehouses, the DMG, PHB, etc. sold. So he asked himself why. The reason was simple you needed them whether you played Realms, Greyhawk, Planescape, whatever. So instead of spending money supporting all their settings, why not allow other companies to use your core books. If their stuff sells you sell your books, if it doesn’t you haven’t lost anything. Thus was born the D20 System. By making the core of D&D ‘Open’, it encouraged other companies to support that system rather than develop competitive systems. It meant WotC did not have to devote as much resources developing supporting material themselves. The principle was that when the sales of RPGs expands, as the market leader, D&D would expand with it. It took some convincing of hardene d businessmen to give up something for free but since the launch of Dungeons & Dragons Third Edition last year, so far, Dancey has been proved right. RPGs are back with a vengeance and Wizards of the Coast leads the way. So where are we now? Wizards have committed to supporting the Forgotten Realms setting. As they are also using Greyhawk as the ‘default’ setting for their own non-specific publications, technically they’re supporting that. For example, the names of the Gods or place names used in the core books or supplements are all from Greyhawk. The basic ‘core’ modules they are producing are also set in Greyhawk as per the place names again. They’ve also updated the Temple of Elemental Evil, that’s another Greyhawk piece of history. And finally the RPGA support that setting with their Living Greyhawk campaign. It would seem that Gary Gygax’s place in history is secure. As for Mr Greenwood’s Realms setting well this too is going to be well supported with 4 publications so far and more announced. So what about the rest? Well learning from how it influenced the world of CCGs, Wizards know the importance of the internet, so all their old settings have been handed over to the fans to do with as they will on the ‘Net; the exception being Ravenloft, which was s old to White Wolf. All the others have their officially approved sites and there are plenty more unofficial ones. See my website for links to all these if you’re interested. Looking at what Wizards have produced so far and what they have on their schedule s, there seems to be a few areas that they’re concentrating in. They have the core books obviously, the PHB, the DMG, and the MM. They have supplementary books for Psionics and the various class groups with new feats, skills, prestige classes, etc. To date they have a fighters & monks book, a clerics & paladins book and a wizards & sorcerors book. On their schedule, there’s a rogues & bards book and a rangers & druids book. They have the ‘core’ adventures (8 published or announced so far), which can bring PCs from 1st level all the way up to high levels. They have the Realms setting and supplementary material exclusive for that, so far a monster book and a campaign setting book; Magic of Faerun coming soon. They have the ‘Return To’ series, which began with 2nd Ed. And they also have a few standalone pieces and Computer game tie-ins. All in all I don’t expect WotC to publish module after module in the hope that a few sell. They’re leaving that to the other publishers. Interestingly, they have announced a Manual Of the Planes, which will not be Planescape per se and also an Oriental Adventures book in which the default setting will be Rokugan (from L5R fame) rather than Kara-Tur. With the Open Gaming Licence and its various associated documents, the path is clear for other companies to fill the gaps left by WotC and there are plenty willing to do it. You can find everything from adventure modules to complete campaigns to specific source books. Names from the past including Gygax himself have been lured back to start writing for D&D again. Gygax even has a column in WotC’s own Dragon magazine again. D20 has encouraged a lot of new company set -ups and no doubt that, like the dot coms, some will fail while others will succeed. The same thing happened with the CCGs a few years back but while the implosion in that genre left many gamers with crates of

cards from games that they would never play again, at least with this current boom, everyone is playing the same game so, for example, you play D&D using products and a campaign world from JFL Games and they go out of business you can always keep playing substituting products from another company. You’re not left with a pile of useless material. But an abundance of printed D&D material is not all that the OGL (Open Gaming Licence) gives us. The Internet is also another great place to find so much stuff for D&D as fans can publish what they like as long as they don’t infringe the OGL. I’m not getting into the legal technicalities but essentially you’ve a free hand to publish scenarios, campaign settings, prestige classes, feats, skills, convert D20 to other genres, convert other RPGs to D20, etc. You can change the rules as you much as you want to and publish them but, if you do, you cannot prevent anyone else from doing the same to what you published. D20 has brought us full circle to where Gygax and co. started off. The object of their original game was to allow other gamers to adjust the game to their own liking. The idea was that you could pick and choose at home but if you played in tournaments then the standard rules applied. Over the years as TSR and then WotC published more and more rules, the standard rules replaced house rules more and more. In a way reminiscent of how the variations on the Magic rules disappeared as tournaments became the main outlet. One end result of reliance on standard or published rules was that we ended up with that clichéd gamer, the “rules lawyer”, the guy who had memorised everything ever published. It also gave us the “power gamer”, the guy who pored over the rulebooks looking for the ‘broken’ rule so that he could exploit it. With D20, every group who play have the choice to follow the books exactly, as they did with 2 nd Ed. and 1st Ed., or they can decide to change stuff around. The DM is free to say, “we’re not using that rule” to the lawyer or “we’re playing that rule differently” to the power gamer. One of the things I’ve noticed as I read fan material and postings around the ‘net is the numbers of different styles of play people have adopted. There’s everything from powerful PCs to rare magic to adapting Warhammer FRP to D20. There are campaign worlds using modified Greyhawk or Realms settings and there are new unique settings. The Open Gaming concept has encouraged these peo ple to be creative and put their stuff on the ‘net. It may lead to them being published in print someday; it may not but it is an outlet for their creativity. D20 means that the DM is no longer tied to “it says in the book”. Anything a player wants to try is capable of being adjudicated by a d20 roll, just come up with a DC. “You want to climb Mt. Everest, with a 10’ rope and two dinner forks? You’re wearing a t -shirt and jeans. OK the DC is 199 and to can add your Con, Str & Dex bonuses to your Climbing Skill. What’d you get? 29? Ok you fall down 170’? How many hps have you? Ooh, not near enough.” So is this D20 here to stay? Probably. Does this mean that there will never be another version of D&D? I’m pretty sure there will be; after all they will want us to buy a few more Core Books some day. In the meantime, we can sit back and enjoy the biggest boost the RPG scene has had since there was an RPG scene. Roll them bones there boys.

Generating a Character Background

An Example By Paul Harraghy

Ed: Enthusing about the generation of character backgrounds as I do, I was particularly interested when Paul submitted the following background that he wrote for a game about 1 year ago. Although the background was obviously done for a character higher than 1st Level (e.g. the character casts Hold Person in the background), it goes to show the kind of interesting and stirring backgrounds players can generate when they put in a bit of effort and imagination. Enjoy!

Dragonlance Character Intro – Castor’s Lament

Characters: Ser Robyrt – Solamnic Knight of the Sword. Gunther – Human fighter from Solace. Sharalla – Qualinesti Wizard of the White Robes. Castor – Human bard from Caergoth. Loral – Human Priest of Mishakal. Silence descended on the clearing as Ser Robyrt’s lament trailed into the night. I placed a comforting hand upon his armoured shoulder, but if he noticed my presence he gave no sign. From where I stood I could see tears well up in his eyes as he gazed upon the small cairn we had hastily erected. “Castor would not have cared to see you mourn him like this, he would prefer us to toast his memory and sing songs of his deeds” yet Sharalla’s voice trembled as she spoke, betraying her emotions. “Aye my child that he would, and I’m sure that tonight he will feast at Paladine’s table and hear the golden voice of Branchala retell his deeds.” So saying, I turned around to face the others who had seated themselves beneath the outstretched arms of the ancient oak and forced a dry smile upon my face for their sakes. Sharalla poured ale from a flask into Gunther’s battered tankard before proffering the rest to me. “Not for me Shar, tonight I will keep vigil with Robyrt over Castor’s grave, perhaps we be graced with a glimpse of his last journey.” Then I returned to the cairn side and knelt by its head. Clasping my burnished Medallion of Faith tightly in my hands I began to intone the Lady’s High Prayer. As the familiar words pervaded my thoughts, Gunther’s faint sob’s faded from my consciousness. Some time later, I’m not sure how long had passed, I opened my eyes to find Sharalla and Gunther sleeping against the tree trunk. It took me a few moments to locate Ser Robyrt, who stood silhouetted against the hillside keeping watch over the trail, which ran up to our site. In the sky above, Kiri-Jolith’s threat to the Queen of Darkness seemed less potent and the end of his constellation appeared tinged with crimson. Whispering another prayer to Mishakal, I found a tree to huddle under and ran over the day’s events again in my mind… The morning had been as unremarkable as any other in our journey so far. We were three days out of Solanthus en-route to Palanthus and making good speed along the northern road. Robyrt, as always, led the way along the road on his proud charger and beside him Sharalla sat gracefully as ever on her slender mount, her white robes

blending seamlessly against the flank of the mare. Castor was whistling beside me, as always; every so often he would break into a few bars of a song he was working on. I used to think he only did that to annoy me; now that I know I will never hear his melodic voice sing again, I feel pangs of guilt at berating him about his indulgences. Behind us, Gunther whittled away at a misshapen stick and mumbled along to Castor’s song. Suddenly, a shrill cry pierced the air and my mount shifted nervously under me. Ahead of us, the road entered a wooded glen nestled between two grey crowned hills and the cries issued from within. Ser Robyrt was the first to react and with a yell he spurred his horse onwards. Gunther’s blocky steed charged up the road after him. A wild grin spread across Castor’s face as he drew his slender sword and turned to me “A fair maid in distress no doubt, at last a deed worthy of song Loral!” So saying, he raced after the others. Gathering my wits, I hastened after them with Sharalla at my side. The trees blurred into a pastiche of brown and green as we surged further into the forest and I prayed to Mishakal that my steed would encounter no furrow or rabbit-hole. When I reached the source of the cries, battle had already been joined and my mind raced to take it all in: A brightly coloured caravan occupied the middle of the forest road, its canvas covering slashed in many places. Two of the team of horses were dead or dying on the path whilst the other pair thrashed around violently, still restrained by the harnesses. On the caravan itself, a middle-aged man swung a staff frantically at a swarthy green skinned humanoid, which was trying to clamber onto the seat. Around the wagon a dozen or so more of the things (hobgoblins I now realise) were doing battle with my comrades and one other footman, a caravan guard it seemed. Robyrt and Gunther had charged a number of the creatures and around them they forged a deadly circle of steel. Gunther’s heavy axe caved in the skull of one of the goblins and he leaned back in his saddle as it slid free with a sickening popping sound. Robyrt wielded his ancestral broadsword with ease and it traced a graceful arc in the air before striking home into unarmoured flesh. His charger Storm added to the carnage, thundering his mighty iron-shod hooves into the body of another hobgoblin. From within the caravan came a high-pitched cry and Castor sprang from his horse through the flapping canvas and disappeared within. Three of the creatures moved to surround Robyrt whilst two more charged towards Sharalla and myself. Clasping my medallion, I began to utter the sacred words to the Litany of Holding knowing full too well that I would be too late, the swords of the goblins were sure to find their mark in us before I had completed the recital. Suddenly Sharalla’s clear elven voice cut the air and a vibrant stream of multicoloured light sprang forth from her outstretched palm. When the light cleared the hobgoblins lay prostrate of the ground, their taloned hands clawing desperately at their unseeing eyes. Thankfully, I had continued the ancient words, more out of habit than presence of mind, and directing my will towards the creatures moving to outflank Robyrt and Gunther, I released the Lady’s power. To others eyes nothing visible happened, yet I felt the wave of divine power issue forth from the medallion and swiftly roll across the leafy road to envelop the goblins. For a brief moment I thought that the spell had failed but then all three of the creatures froze in place like a puppeteer’s lifeless mannequin. Now only four of the goblins remained and they knew the tide had turned heavily against them. Instead of a frightened old trader and a middle-aged bodyguard they faced a well-armed group led by an armoured knight whose mail gleamed in the mid-day sun and by his side a hulking axe wielding giant of a man. They turned to flee from the road and one of them actually made it; the others fell to Robyrt’s sword, Gunther’s axe and a thrown knife from the aged bodyguard.

For a moment relief washed over me as none of my companions seemed to have been seriously hurt, but then a dark shape leapt from the caravan interior and sped into the tree line. Over the pumping of my blood I could now hear cries coming from within the caravan and as one our group rushed to pull back the hanging canvas. Within we found Castor’s bloody body lying across that of a young woman. He had obviously been stabbed a number of times in his efforts to protect her from his murderer. His slender blade was clasped tightly in his right hand and a thin line of green blood coated its edge. Gunther leaned forward and gently lifted him off the terrified girl and as he did so a rasping breath came from Castor. “Finish my s..song for me Gunther” he gasped. I hastened to lay my hands upon him and offer up a prayer of supplication to Mishakal but even as I did so I knew that his wounds were too grave for my skills and I could but shake my head as I met Gunther’s imploring eyes. Gunther sank to his knees and held Castor’s corpse as the rest of us saw to the merchant and his daughter. Thankfully, none of the others were seriously injured and I quickly prepared healing unguent from my herb packs as Robyrt and the guard (Edwin) heaped the hobgoblin corpses at the roadside. They were almost finished the task when the sound of horses could be heard coming down the road. Preparing ourselves in case of another attack we peered up the trail at whoever might be headed our way. Thankfully the gods had decided not to try us further at that time and from ahead we could see a small group of mounted Solamnic Knights hurrying towards us. Ser Robyrt stepped forward and bowed low to their leader and proceeded to relate the events of the past hour to him… I shook my head to stay awake as drowsiness threatened to send me into a deep slumber. Slowly I got to my feet and gazed over at Castor’s cairn “Sleep well my friend, I will make sure that Gunther finishes your song off.” For a moment I thought that I could hear an echo of Castor’s whistling echo through the glade and a breeze ruffled my long unkempt hair. “Aye, I too pledge to see his song finished, and a tale shall be told of his sacrifice” I turned to see Robyrt standing behind me, his expression unreadable but I could see the tracks of tears on his face “By my honour I will”. I let a small smile touch the corners of my mouth as I tuned back to my vigil – truly heroes never die, as long as Song and Tale exist, they live forever.

FINAL NOTE Well, the end of another issue already. As always, its been a fun experience for me to edit this ‘zine and to read the stories and articles submitted from you guys. If you didn’t submit something for this issue, shame on you. No seriously, if you didn’t then please consider submitting something for the third issue – I feel it makes the whole thing more enjoyable for all when more players contribute. Again though, I can’t make you submit something I suppose (in the same way I can’t make you provide me with character backgrounds – sorry, couldn’t resist). Thanks again toJim,Cyril, Colum and Paul for submitting stuff for this issue and whether you did or didn’t submit stuff, I hope you all enjoyed what you read anyway – you know what to do if you didn’t like something : ) See ya…. Mel Editor.

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