Friday, November 29, 2024

Spirits & Spookiness: BECMI Boxed Sets (1977-1991)

BECMI (1977-1991)

The first of the two parallel branches of 20th century D&D we'll be looking at is Basic D&D and all its rules expansions, which I will collectively refer to as BECMI for consistency's sake. This post will not cover shamans found in individual first-party products outside of the core boxed sets; those will receive their own respective posts later.

BECMI is the closer of the two editions to the Original D&D compared to Advanced D&D, owing to such mainstays as race-as-class, the use of a combined to-hit table instead of THAC0 for individual classes, and avoidance of the 9-point alignment chart. But it quickly distinguished itself with changes and additions that turned it into its own unique beast, including some that have to do with how shamans were implemented and portrayed.

Basic Sets (1977, 1981, 1983)

Holmes, Moldvay, and Mentzer editions of Basic.

There are technically 3 different versions of Basic D&D released over a span of 6 years, each with subtle differences between them. But none of those differences impact the (admittedly niche and hyper-specific) focus of this project, so I'm going to treat the editions as more-or-less interchangeable.

Basic D&D continued the use of character level titles started in OD&D, but dropped the Anti-Cleric distinction in favor of letting a regular cleric be any of the 3 alignments (or any of the 4 extremes out of the 5 in Holmes' edition).¹ ² ³  As such, there were no more 3rd level shamans running around doing dark, culty stuff. Shamans do not appear at all in Holmes’ Basic, nor Moldvay's or Mentzer's.

Alas, its reign was brief and weird.

To get to the next instance of shamans we have to go forward in time to 1981 when Thomas Moldvay wrote his version of Basic, followed quickly thereafter by the Expert set edited by David Cook and Stephen Marsh (with Mentzer once again hot on their heels).

Expert Sets (1981, 1983)

Cook & Marsh and Mentzer editions of Expert.

To get to the shamans in the Expert rules, we have to skip past all the player character information and head straight to the monsters chapter. This section lists several humans whom players might come into violent or peaceful contact with, including your standard brigands and pirates, nomads, merchants, and an uncomfortably holy war-y group of desert-dwelling “dervishes”.

Then there are the natives.

Natives are tribal jungle- or island-dwelling people who are explicitly described as “primitive”. Some of them are warlike cannibals, some are peaceful, and some (1 person in 50% of every village with at least 100 people) are shamans. Shamans in this context are clerics or magic-users of at least 5h level, with nothing more than their primitive culture given to distinguish them from other members of the same class.⁴ ⁵

It is in the native shamans that we see the first appearance of one of the primary kinds of shaman in D&D: the shaman-as-tribal-cleric. Although it is rather unique that a single-classed magic-user can also be classified as a shaman in the case of native shamans- we won’t be seeing much of that again in our survey. But the shaman as a functionally standard priest whose primary distinction is the culture they come from and the tribal aesthetics of that culture will be a recurring idea in D&D going forward.

This art from the 1983 edition helps illustrate the vague mix of Polynesian and Austronesian coding the natives were written with. Humans and shamanism don’t mix very often in old D&D relative to other species, but when they do they tend to rely upon real-world, non-Western racial stereotypes to inform their flavor. We have more of that in store for us as we continue our journey.

Including in this very same boxed set, actually.

X1: The Isle of Dread

The Cook & Marsh edition of the Expert boxed set included a copy of module X1: The Isle of Dread, also by Cook (as well as Moldvay). It's an introductory wilderness exploration, lost world adventure, and treasure hunt full of pirates, dinosaurs, and raccoon-monkeys. The module takes place in and around the eponymous Isle of Dread, which was located in the Thanegioth Archipelago, placed south of Karameikos in the Mystara campaign setting, which was brand-new at the time. The island has moved around between editions and remakes since then, including Greyhawk and the Plane of Water at one point.

It's one of the most widely played modules in D&D history thanks to its inclusion in the boxed set, and there are entire posts worth of things to say about it and its contributions to the history of D&D. Posts that I'm not going to write, because I'm busy enough as it is. So I'll try to keep its inclusion brief:

The adventurers make landfall near the native village of Tanoroa/Tanaroa (spelling varies throughout the book) and soon visit others as they expand across the jungle. Rory Barbarosa, the dead explorer whose ship's log entry kicks off the adventure, speculates the natives once had a more advanced civilization that they have since declined from (just in case we forget these folks are written to scream "primitive").⁶ Some are complex societies with urban planning, large stone architecture, and a matriarchal political system, while others are little more than hunter camps in the jungle.

Along the way the party encounters several religious leaders and spellcasters among the natives who are variously identified as shamans, native clerics, and in one instance a witchdoctor. One, Umlat, is a priest of a specific god (Oloron, Lord of the Skies) in the same vein as many traditional henotheistic D&D clerics, while other shamans belong to a necromantic zombie laborer cult, venerate what seem to be ancestral idols, and/or practice a form of animal totemism.⁷ ⁸

Other natives worship more vague "gods" that are ultimately revealed to be the Lovecraftian Deep One-esque kopru. The kopru are malicious amphibian creatures who once ruled the island and seek to do so again through mind control and manipulation of the locals (and any adventurers who fall into their slimy clutches).⁹ The native shamans are never shown to be knowingly complicit in the kopru plot so they don't appear to be examples of the shaman-as-charlatan archetype, but they're still depicted with more variety in implied beliefs and cultural practices than I was expecting when I first looked through the module.

The book is still full of colonialist tropes like headhunting, cannibalism, and large numbers of superstitious natives obediently acting as guides and porters for the party of enterprising military-adventurists who just waltzed in, and that always bears pointing out. But the natives' internal diversity—and thus the variety of their shamans—is also notable for the time, especially considering how new and experimental modules and their approaches to lore and worldbuilding still were.

Companion Set (1984)

You may have sensed the common theme here and guessed that there are no playable shamans in the Companion rules, but the druid class appears here for the first time since OD&D’s Supplement III. In this rendition, the druid is the result of a Neutral-aligned cleric who reaches 9th level and, instead of founding a stronghold and becoming a landholding ruler, retreats into the wilderness and learns the ways of nature under a tutor before officially becoming a druid.¹⁰

This is similar to how fighters of the same level can become Paladins, questing Knights, or Avengers depending on if they are Lawful, Neutral, or Chaotic in alignment and if they fulfill other specific requirements.¹¹ It’s a little bit like a precursor to the Prestige Classes, Paragon Paths, and Subclasses of later editions, but handled differently (and frankly, better) than say the Bard class of AD&D 1E.

I bring this up to show that while the designers didn’t seem to have plans for other types of cleric specialties at this stage of D&D (since the druid is alone among cleric types, unlike the aforementioned fighters), they were equipped with a way in which they could have slotted them into the existing rules with relatively little fuss. I wonder what D&D might have been like had they continued to use and refine this branching class system rather than dumping the idea until 4E. Maybe they might have even made a PC shaman option.

I should tinker with that idea one of these days when I return to writing Destige Class posts.

Druids in BECMI are broadly similar to their OD&D precursors in that they are nature-oriented divine spellcasters. But curiously they lack several iconic features that they had previously been printed with, including animal shapeshifting, proficiency with spears or crescent-shaped blades like sickles and scimitars, and resistance to spell effects from fey and other creatures of nature. It's odd seeing the class briefly bend back toward its clerical parent so soon after branching off of it.

I guess it's one of the few elements of Basic D&D that strove to be truly "basic" in its density of rules.

Master Set (1985)

Once again there are no playable shamans in this piece of BECMI, but NPC shamans do get expanded in scope, in ways that would greatly shape how they were portrayed throughout the remainder of the BECMI/AD&D split. No longer was shamanism limited to humans stereotyped as tribal and primitive; now they could belong to any species stereotyped as tribal and primitive!

The defining characteristic of the NPC shaman in the Master D&D set is that they are a cleric of a non-human, most often humanoid tribe. The position of shaman is overtly political, more so than the mere implied political power of player clerics who wander the land serving their god’s interests. In fact, humanoid shamans are often deeply intertwined with tribal governance.¹²

Speaking generally, what you’ll often see in monster writeups after this point throughout BECMI is that any given humanoid settlement with a large-enough population will sport at least 1 shaman who acts as advisor to the chieftain, perhaps with an apprentice or two in tow. Sometimes their religious leadership will exist in harmony with the secular power of the chieftain or war leader, and sometimes the chief may be in danger of getting usurped by a shaman with their own power base, allowing them to take full control of the tribe. It often depends on the species of humanoid in question.

Humanoid. I’ve been throwing that word around a lot without explaining its nuances.

For everyone who didn’t play D&D in the late 20th century, “humanoid” has a different and somewhat more specific meaning than it does in 3rd, 4th, and 5th editions. It refers to all roughly human-shaped, bipedal, intelligent or semi-intelligent creatures, up to and including giants, who are not members of the typical player species. Meanwhile, non-human player species with their own class are typically called demi-humans.

Thus an orc or a goblin is humanoid, but an elf or dwarf is demi-human, and humans themselves are neither; just humans, the mechanical gold standard and center of the universe. There’s something of a brutish, primitive, antagonistic connotation to the category of humanoid in early editions, so the older association of shamans with evil still holds true in a lot of cases in this era, albeit in a roundabout way unlike the shaman = chaotic cleric rule of old.

That isn't to say the humanoid association with evil is universally true, of course; there are exceptions depending on the species or, when the plot permits, the individual. Additionally, exceptions would slowly become more and more common over the years, right up until the modern era where alignment and species are very close to being fully decoupled, but just aren't all the way there yet.

As with the shamans of human natives, there are few mechanical distinctions between non-human shamans and other clerics. One is that non-human shamans have a limited selection of spells drawn from the cleric list, as well as generally low clerical spellcasting level limits, which ensure that shamans will never be as good at divine magic as human clerics. This is in contrast to how flashy they are when they cast that magic: shamanic magic is full of strange gestures, rituals, howling, and waving around sacred items where a human cleric might simply hold out their holy symbol. Shamans are also barred from some magic items normally available to clerics, mostly scrolls, which might be meant to imply illiteracy or at least a cultural aliteracy.

The other notable difference exists thanks to the Companion set. Because the druid was reimplemented as a character class, there are actually two different divine spell lists available. Shamans may cast either the limited cleric spells I already noted, or anything from the druid list, depending on the species (and implicitly, the unique magico-religious tradition) they hail from. Thus a hobgoblin shaman casts from the cleric spell list, while a centaur shaman casts from the druid spell list. This gives us the first, faintest hint of the shaman-as-druid archetype that we will see much more of in the future, while also setting shamanism up as a sort of spectrum located in between clerical and druidic magic.

Opposite the shaman sits another NPC spellcasting class called the Wicca.

As the name that gestures vaguely at the notion of witchy things indicates, the wicca uses limited arcane magic drawn from the magic-user spell list. But beyond this mechanical distinction, there isn't a lot that separates wiccas and shamans. Humanoids are stereotyped as fearful and ignorant of magic, so the two classes often rise to similar positions of power within their tribes to fulfill the same functions. 

Further blurring the line between the two is the fact that some spellcasters can be both shaman and wicca, albeit at 1/2 the max levels of each. These shaman/wicca are essentially multiclassing in a system where that mechanic doesn't normally exist- another thing we'll see more of as we dive into the specific books of BECMI.

It's not enough to warrant calling the wicca a shaman-as-wizard in my opinion, but it adds to that hint of a rich and complex spectrum of approaches to magic within humanoid societies that can't be found among more "civilized" species with their stricter arcane/divine binary. I find that both amusing and compelling.

Immortals Set (1986)

There are no shamans of any sort anywhere in the Immortal boxed set, since it's chiefly concerned with how to run and challenge characters that have ascended to godhood in all but name. This entry is just here for completeness' sake, and also to show off the weird cavity in the cover art dude's six-pack.


He reminds me of an action figure I had as a kid, whose belly had a weird squishy guts window that you could poke inside. Eventually the guts part popped out from wear and tear (or maybe me just deliberately prying it out), leaving behind a cavity quite like this.

Anyway, let's wrap up this step of our survey.

Rules Cyclopedia (1991)

The Rules Cyclopedia was the last of the Basic remakes, synthesizing everything from the Basic to Master boxed sets together into a single cohesive text that dispensed with most of the godhood simulation rules of Immortals. It made several minor changes throughout, such as making the druid a standalone optional class decoupled from the 9th-level options/subclasses of the cleric.¹³

The cyclopedia also continued the tradition of monstrous spellcasters, with shamans and wiccas returning. Only, they're not wiccas anymore. Beginning in 1990 with Mystara's Hollow World Campaign Setting (which we'll get to eventually), all instances of the wicca class were changed to "wokan", plural wokani.¹⁴

At first I thought this change could be chalked up to the power of the early Wiccan lobby, but I think the real reason behind this change is that it was the latest in a series of PR name-changes for a different sort of butt-covering. It was the ‘90s, but the Satanic Panic was still having far-reaching impacts on popular culture and media. Wicca was one of the last remaining words in a TSR product that could in some way be misconstrued as Satanic, and I think they just kind of forgot about it until they were editing these books.

Just like when they changed demons and devils to Tanar’ri and Baatezu in AD&D 2E a year earlier in order to assuage the reactionary twits who were gripped by moral panic, I think TSR filed the serial numbers off of something vaguely witchy but left it mechanically unchanged, figuring it'd give them plausible deniability where useful and that nobody else who'd notice would care.

Interestingly, the BECMI shaman didn’t share that fate. Perhaps ‘shaman’ was generic-enough a word by now not to suggest a connection to black magic, Satanism, kids harming themselves in particularly deranged Chick Tracts, and all that stuff.

Or perhaps shaman was more distant and exotic, still having clear connotations but none of them negative or strong enough to elicit the same response in some readers. Clearly, something about the public perception of the word shaman and the ideas associated with it were different than those associated with witches and Wicca.

Again, this is just my speculation. I could be completely wrong.

The monstrous spellcaster section also treats us to a cyclops wokan and a pair of returning native humans together in an illustration of, uh... whatever this is.

I'm with Insensitive Caricature #1 on the left over there. I can't believe this shit either.

BECMI and all its permutations stayed in print right up until Wizards of the Coast's acquisition of D&D and the development of 3rd edition, which was a pretty decent run of over 20 years all told. In that time, BECMI would experiment with new ideas that further distinguished itself from AD&D, but also left it as anything but "basic" by comparison. Over the next few posts we'll dive into specific sourcebooks for a cross-section of these innovations and how they relate to the ways shamans were conceived of, written, and at long last, played as viable PC options.


Next time we'll start looking through the Mystaran Gazetteers.

Or you can click here to return to the Shamans in D&D archive.


¹ Holmes, Eric. Dungeons & Dragons Basic Set. 1977. P. 11.

² Moldvay, Tom. Dungeons & Dragons Basic Rulebook. 1981. P. B8.

³ Mentzer, Frank. Dungeons & Dragons Set 1: Basic Rules. 1983. P. 24.

⁴ Mentzer, Frank. Dungeons & Dragons Expert Rulebook.. 1983. P. 31.

⁵ Cook, David, Tom Moldvay. Dungeon Module X1: The Isle of Dread. 1981. P. 29.

The Isle of Dread. P. 4.

⁷ Ibid. P. 7, 22-23.

⁸ Totemism is a whole other can of worms that we will be cracking open, but not quite yet. I don't have the room for it in this post. Fortunately there is no shortage of shaman classes that in some way involve totems, totem animals, spirit animals, spirit guides, or some other permutation of one of those loosely associated terms. You can probably look forward to that midway through our look at the Gazetteer series.

The Isle of Dread. P. 23-24, 26.

¹⁰ Mentzer, Frank. Dungeons & Dragons Players Companion: Book One. 1984. P. 14.

¹¹ Players Companion: Book One. P. 17-18.

¹² Mentzer, Frank. Dungeons & Dragons Dungeon Masters' Book. 1985. P. 21-22.

¹³ Allston, Aaron. Dungeons & Dragons Rules Cyclopedia. Edit. Pickens, Jon, Steven E. Schend, Dori Jean Watry. 1991. P. 28-29.

¹⁴ Rules Cyclopedia. P. 215-216.

Spirits & Spookiness Interlude: Basic & Advanced D&D Split (1977)

Admittedly this post isn't actually going to be about shaman classes, but it is valuable connective tissue in the history of D&D that I didn't feel right about skipping entirely. So bear with Uncle Furt as he bumbles through regaling you with an ancient past that he himself never lived through.

When 1977 rolled around, D&D had been selling extremely well for several years, especially considering its original $2,000 budget and the “whatever our friends and family can doodle on a napkin” style of art direction. It sold tens of thousands of copies and made millions of dollars; well enough that its publisher, TSR, wanted more products to sell, and to a wider audience this time. To accomplish this, the ruleset of OD&D was rewritten and cleaned up by a guy named John Eric Holmes to make it more accessible to newbies and people from outside of the tabletop hobbyist scene. It also excised copyright-sensitive words like "hobbit" or "balrog" from the text.

This new edition of D&D—for that's what it was, even if it was never numbered like one—was given a lower character level cap and an explicit endpoint: when you played all that you could in this Basic edition of D&D, it was time to move up to the shiny new Advanced D&D compiled by Gygax.¹

Once graduated, you'd hang out with Gary and all the other big boys, and you'd get to enjoy more options, more monsters, and more spells, not to mention tournaments and other big, prestigious things that necessitated having a lager body of codified rules to be able to referee objectively. Essentially, Basic was what you'd play at home with your friend group to get a taste, and AD&D was what you'd go to a big fancy convention to play (and pay).²

Thus the Basic and Advanced split was one of the first big “rulings vs rules” philosophical divides the hobby would see, and from where I'm standing it was entirely motivated by sales, marketing, and a desire to expand what this nascent market was even capable of.

I also can’t pass up the opportunity to remind everyone that AD&D was also meant to be legally distinct enough from OD&D that TSR didn’t have to pay Arneson royalties for any of its sales, despite Dave being a co-creator of the original game. According to Gary, Arneson only ever sent him notes from the Blackmoor game he was running using Gygax's Chainmail rules, which Gary then consulted while writing D&D mostly by himself.

This wasn't the first time they fought like this; there was an episode in 1976 where TSR tried to lay claim to all of Arneson and other writers' personal creations written during or even after their employment at TSR through a revised contract, ³ like some kind of tabletop Disney Vault with (hopefully) far fewer smut illustrations locked away in its depths.

That incident led to Dave quitting, but that was far from the end of their disputes. Arneson took his removal from the royalties to court in 1979 in a series of lawsuits that would drag on until 1981. This kerfuffle would come to be known as the "Great War", in Arneson's own dramatic words.

According to Dave, he provided much of the raw basis for D&D which was later edited and prettied up by certain other people he didn't care to name. But he further asserted that he and his Blackmoor group had never been all that focused on the mechanical side of gameplay to begin with. Instead, he emphasized his role in developing fundamental but less material components of play. The big example of this was "roleplaying", which was still a novel concept at the time. His contribution then, was to the sense of wonder and creativity that gave meaning and purpose to the pile of rules; animating the physical game with its own spirit.

This protracted legal battle led to the genesis of the somewhat artificial “Arnesonian” style of game design, which then proliferated within tabletop communities. The court of public opinion was as much a battlefield as the courtroom, and Dave and TSR slung countless printed articles and interviews back and forth over who should be thought of as the True father of D&D. All of this just so Dave could argue his case in court and get the money he believed TSR owed him (and rightly so, in my opinion).

Not to disparage the guy, but the free-wheeling and rules-lite style of play attributed to him doesn't exactly line up with the sometimes very chunky and simulationist rules he wrote. This is especially evident in the rules of his own books post-TSR, many of which he claimed to have wanted for D&D if it weren't for Gygax's role in cowriting it.⁴

Eventually they settled out of court and Arneson got his royalties on AD&D products, ⁵ but by then the bifurcation of D&D was complete.

Imagine reshaping the trajectory of an entire hobby just to stiff your business partner.

Anyway, the two-pronged approach to D&D emphasizing two parallel newbie/veteran systems ended up not lasting all that long. What ended up happening is that Basic and Advanced D&D each followed their own trajectory independent of one another. AD&D eventually released a 2nd edition, while Basic D&D gradually got a bunch of rules expansions that raised the max level and added more stuff to do while remaining more-or-less the same edition it started off as. By the time Basic was joined by Expert, Companion, Master, and Immortal rules (completing the BECMI series we know today), the rules were arguably as complex as those in AD&D, and the level cap was a staggering 36.

Has anyone here ever gotten a character even close to that from level 1? What was that campaign like? I’d like to know.

Speaking of BECMI, now’s a good time to bring up a bit of a faux pas you’ll run into in my writing. I almost always refer to all versions of Basic collectively as BECMI, rather than differentiating between B/X as a stand-alone entity and BECMI as something else that came later, or further specifying Holmes vs Moldvay vs Mentzer, etc. I know some folks will chafe at that, but I do this for simplicity’s sake, and because it’s the lens I learned about Basic through.

These two branches of D&D ran separate-yet-parallel for over twenty years before Wizards of the Coast bought D&D and either merged the branches back together, cut one of them off, or just grew an entirely different tree, depending on your point of view.

More important to our story is that from both these branches, several shaman-shaped fruit grew over the years.

As I said, Basic and Advanced ran concurrently, but we’ll look at the full lifespan of one edition before the other in the following entries, again just for simplicity’s sake.


Begin the delve into BECMI.

Or return to the Shamans in D&D archive.


¹ Gygax, Gary, & Dave Arneson. Dungeons & Dragons. TSR. 1977. Edit. Eric Holmes. P. 2.

² Schick, Lawrence. Heroic Worlds: A History and Guide to Role-Playing Games. 1991. P. 130–131.

³ Jon Peterson. Game Wizards: The Epic Battle For Dungeons & Dragons. 2021. P. 114. (At least those are the page numbers on the EPUB converted to a PDF that I have access to at the moment.)

⁴ I often think back to the Lich van Winkle article pointing out a formula that includes a "Players Intelligence" statistic in Arneson & Snider's Adventures in Fantasy (1979), among other game design arcana.

⁵ Game Wizards. P. 170.

Saturday, November 9, 2024

Ride Ze Shoopuf? (TROIKA! Background & Creature)

Shoopuf Driver

You are one of the froglike Hypello, clammy and laidback in the extreme. So laidback in fact, that when the river decided to change its course during a routine cruise and dump you and your elephantine mount across the hump-backed sky, you didn't fret. You just hopped back up on top of your shoopuf, picked a direction, and started walking.

Wherever you go, you're sure it will all be Shmooth Shailing.

Possessions

  • Shoopuf Mount with Howdah
  • 1d6 Preserved Moonlilies
  • A Stack of Moonflow River Tour Brochures (Soggy)
  • Bottle of Shoopuf Milk (Not Yet Fermented)
  • An extremely Lackadaisical Disposition


Advanced Skills

4 Swim (Shwim good, yesh?)
3 Shoopuf Riding (All aboards!)
2 Awareness (For inveshtitagating dangerous waters)
2 Etiquette (Befriend ebullibody!)
1 Blitzball (When you feels like it)


Special

You are amphibious. You can breathe water and take no penalty to your Swim skill for item slots filled, but you are torpid and slow on dry land, moving at half the speed you otherwise would.

Addishunally, you finds it imposhibibble to loshe your akshent.


Shoopuf card from Mobius Final Fantasy


Shoopuf

SKILL: 4

STAMINA: 16

INITIATIVE: 1

ARMOUR: 2

DAMAGE: Proboscis Slap (As Large Beast)

A placid leviathan of the Moonflow, normally found wading its depths and snorkeling up food with its long trunk-like appendage. Often tamed by the Hypello and saddled with enormous howdahs befitting their great size and strength. Despite this, they are typically very gentle creatures, willing to help pilgrims cross the river free of charge- so long as no drunken Blitzballers mistake them for fiends and start swinging at their ankles.

SPECIAL

Anyone successfully hit by a Shoopuf's proboscis must Test their Luck (or Skill for Enemies) or become Grappled as it winds back up around them like a party horn.

MIEN

1

Gentle

2

Timid

3

Filter Feeding

4

Curious

5

Splashing Around

6

Amok


Monday, November 4, 2024

The One Where Furt Reads a Second Dragonlance Novel in as Many Years to Quell the Gnashing Anxiety in the Back of His Head and Then Ends up Summarizing it Again

Late last year I wrote at length about my experiences trying to read a book for the first time in ages. In typical Furtive fashion I laid bare all my worries and neuroses and then just did a bunch of word-vomit about a thing that interests me.

This time, I've decided there's going to be a 'this time', and it's going to have less of the former but just as much of the latter. Because I'm invested in Jean Rabe's Stonetellers trilogy now, and I feel compelled to see it through to the end. Plus this year has been unnerving in the extreme, and I could use another distraction from my slowly growing age and shrinking bank balance.

At the time of publication we've just finished our two weeks of real autumn before all the leaves die and a long, damp pre-winter settles in. Something about the wind and the leaves reminds me of the schoolyear, which invariably leads to a series of panic attacks as I think back to that period of my life.

Can homework legitimately trigger PTSD? Asking for a me.

Another thing that this time of year fills me with is brief moments of swelling inspiration to do... something? Anything? Oftentimes the urge takes the form of something vaguely scholastic, like reading or writing or discussing a topic with passionate others. It echoes back to the feeling of walking my high school or college campuses in the rare moments when I wasn't quite so rushed or scared and I could imagine what a better being in my shoes would have accomplished by now. 

I don't know why I get these moments, but I've experienced them for a long time. I think it comes down to some deep subconscious association from my youth. When the light hits the trees just right and I look out over the admittedly beautiful land that the Hudson River School romanticized and propagandized so effectively from a place just across the creek from me, I feel it. I get it. I am consumed by that licentious poison of the soul that we call the sublime, and I am moved to propagate or harness the feeling in some way. It's like somebody's beaming one of those silly academia aesthetic playlists directly into my lizard brain.

Invariably, the feeling deflates a second later as I remember why I can't do anything smart or academic or vaguely gesturing toward the notion of personal growth or learning because of reasons X, Y, and Z.

But this time I remembered my incredibly low-stakes struggle with these books, and where I left off.

... I said there would be less neurosis this time, didn't I?

-

To simplify greatly, the first book in the series, The Rebellion, is about a group of enslaved goblin miners on the Dragonlance world of Krynn who rise up against their Dark Knight masters during a massive earthquake. They then endure the volcanic brutality of the Khalkist Mountains of Neraka, the world capital of Evil. They are led through much fiery death and bloody dismemberment by the begrudging hobgoblin foreman Direfang and the auguries of the self-interested geomantic shaman Mudwort. Along the way they team up with (and enslave) some of the knights who enslaved them, most notably the half-elf wizard Grallik N'sera.

The ragtag bunch survives long enough to stumble into the ruins of Godshome, where most of the gods of Krynn once schmoozed together with their followers before they punished the many for the sins of the few and nuked the planet from orbit. Here, Mudwort and the other Stonetellers of the goblin refugee army scried the entirety of the continent of Ansalon and glimpsed a prospective home for a new goblin nation far away in the forests of Qualinesti. They then set off on the long road south, unwittingly leaving behind them the still-warm corpse of Moon-eye, the first of many goblins about to get shanked in the back as power-hungry clan leaders throughout the army plot Direfang's overthrow.

Simple, right?

The sequel, Death March, focuses on that grueling journey southwest to Qualinesti, and all the challenges and intrigues the goblins are sure to face along the way.

It's also pretty metal as far as DL covers go.

Speaking of Qualinesti, I want to touch on something that I don't think I gave enough attention to at the end of my first post.

The Rebellion began somewhere in Neraka, close to the city of Jelek that actually gets placed on maps on occasion. The exact location of Godshome changes from map to map over the years, but we can confidently say it's within the same neck of the woods. So let's say they ended the book somewhere within this area, using an excerpt from the map that appears in the 1992 Tales of the Lance boxed set that happens to be pretty detailed and accessible.

At the beginning of the book the goblin refugee column is over 1,000 strong. By the end, through a combination of attrition and smaller bands splitting off from the main body, that number is reduced to less than 500. Let's zoom out a little, and see how much farther they have to go with those numbers.

As you can see here, the refugees have quite a ways to go before they reach the-

Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't zoom out far enough. Silly me.

There we go.

They've lost over half their number traveling less than 50 miles of what is conservatively a 400+ mile journey, and that's if you measure in a straight line as the crow flies, through some of the most hostile territories on the planet. If things keep going at this rate, these folks are screwed!

I mean, obviously not entirely screwed since there is a third book in the series and I'm pretty sure I saw trees on the cover when I downloaded an image of it. But I still don't have high hopes for anyone besides the named protagonists reaching their destination- heck, not even that will save them, considering how quickly the list of named goblins got chewed through in the first book.

I guess we shall see. Let's get this show on the road.