Friday, February 3, 2023

New System, New Face: Harping on about HARP

I should finished this post last year when I first built a character for the system. But after I fell off of the series somewhat, and now that most of my memories of the event have faded, I have decided to go back in for a refresher course. I hope this slightly less new system, not as new face is still an entertaining read- and I hope readers are buoyed by the fact that I have a climactic endpoint for this series in sight- just not yet.

Game/Context

High Adventure Roleplaying or HARP is another skill-based d100 system published by Iron Crown Enterprises, because I have a problem and need someone's help weening me off of this newfound drug. It was first published in late 2003, with a revised edition following soon after in 2004 to clean up a number of messy rules. There are two differently flavored rulesets for HARP; Fantasy and Science Fiction, or SF. Naturally, I went with fantasy.

HARP is to ICE's MERP what MERP was to original Rolemaster: the same core system, but considerably more streamlined than the last. HARP more-or-less replaced MERP after ICE lost the license to continue publishing Tolkien material, though I would have liked to see some sort of rework of the latter using the former. Maybe in an alternate timeline somewhere, there's a heartbreaker called MARP.

HARP also took some cues from the d20 system, since D&D 3.5E had just dropped earlier that year and the world was fast-approaching critical spinoff popularity mass. I'm sure there are grognards out there who can articulate the similarities exactly, but this influence was most evident to me in the ability to multiclass, as well as the Talent system, which is like a less limited Feat system from 3E. I also saw it in the way you can acquire a small pool of Fate Points that you can burn to provide bonuses to rolls in emergencies- D&D's Action or Hero Points, essentially.

Other than that, HARP is still very Rolemastery. You create a character from a combination of starting profession, species, childhood experiences, and cultural background. You build them up from there in a loosely guided, very granular manner using the Development Points you're rewarded on level-up. Pretty much everything you do is covered by skills which are in turn grouped under and governed by the eight statistics- Strength, Constitution, Agility, Quickness, Self Discipline, Reasoning, Insight, and Presence.

The HARP core rulebook provides everything you need to play, as well as some implied setting lore, mostly through species and cultures. But for a more explicit campaign setting (and the crunchy rules options that go along with it) we can look to the HARP products detailing Mithra--also called Gryphon World--and its main focus, the continent of Cyradon.

Cyradon

Cyradon is billed as having the key word "fun", according to its own overview and marketing blurbs. While the idea of being marketed as "fun" in detached quotes always manages to get a snicker out of me, I understand what they were getting at. It's meant to be a high fantasy, swashbuckling setting where even low-level characters (whom the first Cyradon book is designed around) can help reshape the world. There's big adventure to be had, and little narrative grimness to muck through despite the world having just survived another major cataclysm.

Humans went extinct on Cyradon long ago, and for centuries it was mostly barren and empty with few, unfriendly nations far apart. But all of that is changing as waves of refugees from other, more on-fire parts of the world arrive en masse through portals to the ruined city of Belynar, which just so happens to be under the care of a small gryphon community.

Mithra is also known as Gryphon World because of the major role that gryphons play in it. They're an ancient and wise people, second only to the dragons that have been around since the birth of the world. In the long background of Mithra, the winged and quadrupedal gryphons cast off enslavement and developed an advanced civilization that pops up time and again. You can actually play a gryphon in-game, helping to guide the newcomers and upstarts in Belynar and beyond.

Gryphons are playable alongside the other species that were either translated wholesale or tweaked and adapted from the base game. These include the brand-new human immigrants to Cyradon, the Sithi (elves), Mablung (dwarves), Rhona (gnomes), Arali (elves again except haughtier), Nagazi (lizardfolk), and the Gryx. You can also play a character of mixed heritage from any combination of the humanoid species above by purchasing Lesser or Greater Blood talents.

The Gryx are nomads who once hailed from the far eastern steppe of the supercontinent Anias. An unknown tragedy drove them from their ancestral home in great, migrating tribes that traveled or settled all across the world. Their attempted genocide at the hands of a xenophobic theocracy led to them being driven away again, and now many Gryx have wound up in Cyradon with all the other global refugees. Their autonym is G'Shul, meaning "the homeless" in their heavily glottal, clicking language of Taloc.

Gryx are basically the setting's stand-in for orcs, though with a far more peaceable temperament than most other turn-of-the-century depictions. They even lack the overtly martial warrior culture that other, more heroic orcs often have, in favor of being private, pastoral, perhaps a little dour, but above all wishing to avoid trouble.

Unfortunately for the Gryx, trouble tends to find them, in part because of their "monstrous" appearance. They are huge and musclebound as a rule, so much so that they have a racial penalty to swimming because of how dense and prone to sinking their bodies are. They are endowed with prominent brows, blotchy skin, tusks, flat noses, and everything else that orcs tend to get depicted with. Many of them also possess forehead ridges of protruding bone, giving them more than a passing resemblance to the Orsimer of later The Elder Scrolls installments, or particularly pointy Klingons.

Every step of the way out of their lost homeland, the G'Shul left totems planted in the ground. Each totem possesses a unique but fierce visage often likened to a monster or demon face by outsiders. They are all erected facing east, toward their ancient homeland. No one knows why they do this and the G'Shul don't speak of such things, but the most popular theory is that they raise them in defiance of whatever evil drove them out- or perhaps as an apotropaic ward to keep it from spreading.

This is 200% my jimmy-jams, so that's what I'm picking.

Streamlined, but not quite Svelte

Instead of MERP's 10-step character creation process that requires you to flip back and forth throughout the book, we get a slightly smoother and more straightforward 6.

  1. Choose a Profession
  2. Generate Statistics
  3. Choose a Race & Culture
  4. Buy Skills & Talents
  5. Purchasing Equipment
  6. Final Touches

There are a lot of professions to choose from in HARP, owing to their relative simplicity. Each profession is essentially a bundle of free skill ranks, a list of relevant skill categories you have to pay less to improve, and one unique ability. For example Fighters get a few free general and athletic skills, a bunch of physical and combat skills, cheaper future purchases in all four of those skill categories, and then finally a bonus to combat skill rolls that scales with level. As with previous skill-focused games, your starting profession does not set a hard limit on how you choose to build and grow your character.

I have been neglecting magic for my entire stay in d100 land thus far, so I think it's finally time to remedy that by picking a spell-caster. That doesn't narrow the list down as much as you might expect, though.

There are 9 professions in the core book, and of them 5 have native spellcasting- Cleric, Harper, Mage, Ranger, and Warrior Mage. Mage gets subdivided into 5 different specialties in the College of Magics supplement; the generalist Magician, Elementalist, Necromancer, Thaumaturge, and Vivamancer. There are also the Adventurer, Mystic, Shadowblade, and Druid presented in The Codex, each of which has a spell sphere. There's a scattering of another half-dozen professions across HARP's other publications, including the Harper's Bazaar series that ran from 2004 to 2008, some of which have been reprinted elsewhere in more official forms. There would be even more to choose from, but I don't have a copy of HARP's dedicated religion book, Beyond the Veil.

Professional Indecision

To help narrow things down, I need to hone my concept a little more. I personally like that a single idea can be mechanically executed in multiple ways, and would rather have that than the opposite problem, though I understand why some might find the redundancy undesirable in a system.

Gryx aren't very prominent magicians or priests in the lore of Mithra- none of the religious or magical orders described in the books are founded by or have a significant Gryx component. Paradoxically, they are noted as being very pious, sometimes superstitious people who venerate many deities- they were even instrumental in revitalizing worship of the so-called Shrine Gods of the Juras Mountains that they just sort of picked up and took with them during their flight from the steppes. The dispersed nature of the gryx tribes probably lends quite a bit of internal diversity and syncretism to their practices, though that's just my reasoning.

What does seem consistent about Gryxian religion across the board is that it is deeply animistic, and many of their gods such as the aforementioned mountain gods might actually be yazatas- powerful nature spirits that gryphon scholars hold to be different from deities. They might technically be correct, but that isn't a great concern for the Gryx who already venerate nature.

The Shaman from HARPer's Bazaar Issue 06 ends up looking like my best choice, as they directly interact with spirits and totems on a regular basis. Shocking for me to pick a shaman, I know. Just go ahead and ignore the time in this same series where I already made an orc shaman. It's totally different this time, I promise.

Now that I've settled on a profession, I need to choose the Mana source for my magic. I also need to choose a couple of Spell Focus Styles- the techniques or gestures you use during casting.

Mana, everybody's favorite misunderstood Polynesian concept, returns in HARP as the power source for all magic. It is latent in pretty much all things in the world, and comes in the flavors of Personal, Ambient, Granted, or Fixed Mana. Personal mana is what you've got in your own body, Ambient mana is plucked right out of the land and air around you, Granted mana is gifted to you by a higher power source like a god, and Fixed mana is sucked out of magically potent spell components like prepared herbs, gems, or animal parts. There's another type called Pure Mana, but that's only accessible around leylines when you're mucking about with big, dangerous High Magic stuff.

Each type of mana tapping has different advantages and disadvantages, and requires a talent to use. Fortunately every new character receives one tap talent for free.

Because I'm picking Shaman, the responsibility of building an entire Gryxian religious order with membership benefits, structure, and dogma is taken out of my hands- as is access to Granted mana, which is the cleric's whole schtick. Personal mana is the most common type of tap in the world, basically amounting to a personal magic bar that you can deplete. It has a secular connotation though, which I don't think fits my Gryx.

I'm left choosing between Ambient and Fixed mana, both of which feel equally valid for an animistic expression of magic. At first I was tempted to go with Fixed mana because my shaman would always try to have plenty of ingredients for traditional alchemy or charmcraft on hand- but then I got to thinking about it and decided that might be too much dependency on finite resources, and so opted to pick Ambient. There are mana-poor areas that make casting harder, but that's a tradeoff I'm more comfortable with than being caught with no means at all, especially at low and money-starved levels.

Now to decide on my two free Spell Focus Styles. Each Spell Focus dictates the way you weave magic sigils. When you use your technique properly, you get a small roll bonus; if you can't use it, you risk massive penalties and even fumbles. Not all magic needs to be cast using Somatic components in HARP, although that absolutely is one option.

Besides Somatic, there are Gestural (only need one hand but you don't get the potential bonus Somatic offers), Song/Music (a la bards and the like), Trance (monkly micro-meditations), Verbal (exactly what it sounds like), and various focus items like wands or a warrior mage's weapon. I will pick Gestural because it is the easiest requirement to meet on the fly, as well as Trance because while it may have been written with martial artists in mind, trances and other altered states of consciousness are often important in shamanic traditions.

And there we have it! Step 1 done in a paltry... 800 words. I promise it'll go quicker than this.

Generating Statistics

There are three ways to generate your 8 main stats: make percentile rolls until every result is at least 40 and assign as you like, use a 550 point-buy system where stat costs start to ramp up at 91, or use a 500 point-buy plus 10d10. After some consideration I decided to go with method 1 and roll everything. I thought it might inject some fun and interesting decisions into what would otherwise be a very safe, evenly spread array.

That's what I thought.

But then I started thinking that my interpretation of the rules-as-written might be a little off. In retrospect, I should have listened to that instinct. "Make 8 percentile rolls until all results are at least 40 or higher" reads to me like I'm supposed to throw the entire set out if a single result is 39 or below. This means each set of 8 has a 0.01917073 probability of being legal. I should have just quit and rolled individually until I had 8 qualifying rolls, but as evidenced by this series and the continued existence of this entire blog, I am committed to my bad ideas.

A few hours later, I finally came up with this:

Perfectly serviceable. Very slightly better on average than if I had taken the 550, and without any negative modifiers besides. Almost boring, in fact.

Unlike the casting professions from the core rulebook, the HARPer's Bazaar zines never actually stated what stats the Shaman uses to cast its spells- my guess is that was a bit of writer/editor oversight. But following convention of classes using a combination of Self Discipline and one other pertinent stat, I've gone ahead and picked Insight for the shaman- in many ways it is like Wisdom in a d20 system.

With that in mind, I will arrange my stats as follows: 50 Strength / 54 Constitution / 62 Agility / 67 Quickness / 95 Self Discipline / 69 Reasoning / 97 Insight / 68 Presence.

Converted into actual modifiers and then added to Gryxian adjustments, that array takes the shape of: +4 St / +4 Co / +3 Ag / +4 Qu / +11 SD / +4 Re / +10 In / +4 Pr.

Presence isn't really listed as an important stat for the Shaman, but I expect I'd want to be at least a little bit diplomatic with spirits or members of my Gryx's tribe whenever possible. Shamans have as much social responsibility as they do spiritual, and often the two are inextricably linked.

A gripe I had with MERP was that after rolling your stats and adjusting for your species modifiers, you pretty much never use the raw numbers ever again except in extremely rare circumstances, making them kind of pointless. I'm pleased to say that issue isn't in HARP, because you can continue to increase your stats (and thus your stat modifiers) throughout your character's career. I still think it's kind of an extra step that could be simplified by cutting them out and only bothering with modifiers, but that's the nature of the system I chose to play with.

A point in the system's favor is that they really streamlined this part in the revised edition of the game. Once upon a time, the number of Development Points (DPs) you'd get with every level-up was dependent upon each of your statistic scores, swinging wildly between zero or minimum point rewards and significant progress depending on how big the numbers are. But you can invest DPs into raising your statistics even higher, therefore getting even more DPs the next time you level up.

This system rewarded a "spiral" of continual reinvestment at the expense of every other dimension of character development, resulting in very boring designs, uneven group dynamics, and in the long-term, characters that have grossly swollen beyond intended game balance. On the other end of the spectrum, was even possible for someone to roll so poorly on character generation that they were incapable of earning DPs!

Nowadays, you get a flat number every level.

I'm glad I only spent a couple of hours spreadsheeting optimal stat cutoff points before I learned about the revised edition.

Race & Culture

Gryx and Nomad. Boom. Next question.

Skills & Talents

Here's another crunchy section. Pretty much the entire game is skill-driven, so this is where my character's rough outline gets sharpened into definition. I have several free skill ranks from my profession and culture, plus 100 DPs to spend at 1st level. Skills in my profession's favored categories (General, Mystical, Outdoors, and Physical) cost 2 points a rank, while everything else costs 4 points. Max ranks in a single skill are calculated using the formula (3 x Level) + 3. At level 1 the maximum is 6; at level 30 it rises to 93.

You can also receive a discount on skill ranks by purchasing a Training Package. Training Packages are almost like prestige classes in a way. Each represents a specialized role or membership in an in-universe organization that your character has to be a member of, or join over the course of a campaign. Each package is a bundle of skills that represent the experience your character has gained from serving that organization or guild.

For example, if you want to be an Arcurias Bowman, you have to be a Sithi elf or descended from one. The package gives you ranks in Armor, Stalk & Hide, Sniping, Bows and one other Weapon Skill for a ~25% discount depending on how the favored categories line up- just the sort of thing a defender of the Sithi homelands needs.

The Gryx of Mithra have a few nice, flavorful packages that I want to shout out, even though I won't be using them yet. The G'Shul Rover is a hunter and scout who keeps the G'Shul tribes and their herds safe and fed during the migrations, while the Osh'Tahl Herbalist is a traditional healer skilled in herblore. My Gryx might pick up Osh'Tahl Herbalist someday to represent his increased attention to alchemy, but for now he's starting with the Traditionalist Mage package.

The Traditionalist Mage is a healer, soothsayer, and/or wise one for isolated settlements and nomadic tribes- perfect for a Gryxian shaman. The package gives 20 ranks in Cantrips, Divination, Healing, Herbcraft, Fauna or Flora Lore, Perception, Power Point (PP) Development, and Spell Casting, with Cantrips/Healing/Spell Casting optionally replaceable for Alchemy and/or Charmcraft. My shaman is going to want literally all of these eventually, so I'll gladly take the early investment now.

As part of the Nomad culture, he also gets free ranks in Animal Handling, Armor, Endurance, Herbcraft, Local Region Lore, Navigation, Perception, Riding, Stalking & Hiding, Swimming, Tracking, and one Missile and one Melee Weapon.

After a lot of tabulation, my final skills look like this:

It helps a lot if you get a spreadsheet for all of this.
You can find one and a few other resources on the ICE forums.

My desire to always have one rank in every skill I could possibly want in order to get that initial bonus before focusing on building important ones up came through pretty strong here. Untrained skills receive a -25 penalty, and that can be pretty crushing at low levels.

I left a few DPs unspent for minor stat boosts- mostly to bump up stats that were already right on the edge of the next modifier increase. It's that same kind of compulsion that you might get from staring at a bunch of odd-numbered ability scores in d20.

I decided not to go for any talents, beyond what was given to me by default. Talents, which as I mentioned earlier act a little like d20 feats, cost anywhere from 5 to 50 DPs depending on power. They can give you a new profession, expand your spellcasting abilities, give you a stacking bonus to a skill or set of skills that is a little more efficient per DP spent than if you bought ranks outright, or radically improve your survivability or utility in other ways.

Purchasing Equipment

The standard fantasy RPG arrangement of 1 gold piece = 10 silver pieces = 100 copper pieces is in place in HARP. Unlike D&D, copper and silver pieces are the most common coins you'll be dealing in day-to-day, so most prices are listed in cp or sp. Even so, new adventurers in Cyradon begin with 10+1d10 gold pieces. I rolled a pretty lucky 9, giving my Gryx almost maximum funds to play around with.

The first thing I wanted to buy was a Gryxian war fork. They adapted these babies from simple pitchforks used to tend to their mounts and herd animals. It's basically a seven foot-tall, bladed bident with a knob on the butt that can be used with either the Staves or the Pole Arms weapon skill. It can also be used to deal a medium amount of slashing, crushing, or puncture damage without penalty. It's so versatile as to be a little busted early on, and I want one. I'll also get a shortbow and quiver of 20 arrows, mostly for hunting.

Next is armor, which I'll be far more austere about. The heavier the armor, the harder and more expensive it is to cast any magic. A full suit of soft leather armor offers some protection without too much of a drain, and feels most appropriate for someone whose culture probably makes extensive use of animal hide clothing.

The single biggest purchase he'll make is a mount to bear him across the steppes and beyond. Since he's already kind of heavy (well over 200 lbs. before equipment) I opted for a medium horse with a carrying capacity of up to 500 lbs. It should be able to carry any extra gear or maybe an ailing companion, while sacrificing no speed and only a little maneuverability- and it's not like my Gryx is about to pick up horse archery.

He'll call his mare Tlakhi. I've decided the "tl" is a palatal click consonant (not that I'm any good at pronouncing those).

After that comes an assortment of doses of Cyradon's native herbs to treat minor injuries and ailments out on the road. Orudin for helping fractures mend faster, sarpal for frostbite, halin to improve rest from a full night's sleep, and seras tea as an impromptu healing potion for emergencies.

Final Touches

I've sort of been doing this last step the entire time by adding little bits of characterization here and there, but there's still more to take care of! The book tells us to consider things like appearance, attitude, and motivation, to make this character more than a lifeless pile of stats.

Also, he probably needs a name. I feel like maybe I should have led with that. Let's go with R'Shoq. The ' represents a glottal stop, and the 'q' is voiced from somewhere down by the tonsils.

R'Shoq only has three rows of head flanges, unlike the usual four or five. As a result he has a fuller head of hair, but he lacks the "washboard" forehead that many of his people find conventionally attractive.

This is what peak G'Shul performance looks like.

R'Shoq wears his dark brown hair in several braids to keep it back while he's chanting or hunched over a pestle. He is of average height, and not as muscular as most Gryx- not that that's saying much. His eyes are brown, in defiance of the common trope of magic users having fancy or unusual eye colors- but they do always look like he's just seen a ghost.

Speaking of ghosts, he talks to them semi-regularly. The Gryx's gods know what's up with the homeland and why they had to flee, but due to some meddling by a malicious third party, they can only communicate with their people in the most obtuse, vague prophesies. R'Shoq is following one of those prophesies right now, trying to weave together some of the disparate threads that have been left to his people on their journey west.

His tribe was one of the most mobile at first, stopping the least often and pushing the edges of their known world. As a result he acquired a smattering of knowledge about other cultures that they passed by- but only a surface-level understanding of them. As a result, he can be a bit awkward in his dealings with outsiders. While trying to be affable with strangers, he might be hundreds of miles off on a turn of phrase he thinks they might relate to.

Wrapping Up

I think this is the first d100 system I'd want to play more than a one-off with. I feel like I have more freedom with it than I did MERP, and more of an illusion of safety and control than Warhammer permits. I don't know how the numbers break down for mid-to-high-level play or whether anything starts to fall apart at that point, but I could see a low-level romp being crunchy and satisfying. The world is detailed, but also light enough on metaplot that neither me nor my nomad would feel totally lost during play.

Sunday, January 15, 2023

Living & Adventuring in the Earthen Vaults


The Earthen Vaults

The Children of Earth and Stone live in a dozen or so air-filled, cavernous vaults deep below the surface. These vaults lie on top of fault lines connecting to the Elemental Plane of Earth. How close a vault lies to the plane varies, with deeper vaults having a far more primordial nature than those relatively closer to the surface. Some undiscovered vaults are said to lie on the other side of the rifts, their denizens strange, time-lost, and far more elemental than mortal.

Tribal myths disagree on whether the vaults already existed when the Children were spawned, or if their divine creators sculpted the caves specifically to house them. This question is of little importance in day-to-day life, because the Stonebloods know for a fact that they are integral to the continued existence of their beloved homes.

Each vault contains an ecosystem of plants, animals, fungi, and small numbers of elemental creatures. These ecosystems are delicately balanced with hardly any energy or resources for the cycle of life to spare, so the Stonebloods take sustainability gravely seriously.

The Children do not consider themselves wardens of their vaults, however. Their place in the world is no lower or higher than that of other animals, and they are dearly aware of how sensitive they are to the effects of systemic collapse.

A typical vault is several dozen miles across, and several hundred feet high. It contains anywhere from one to a half- dozen tribes, each varying in size from smallish to only a single extended family. The vault normally has the resources needed to support the existing population.

Many vaults have a ceiling of dimly glowing crystals that provide a level of illumination similar to twilight or moonlight. This light is constant, with no analogous day/night cycle like surface-dwellers are used to having. Time is better told using simple timekeeping devices, or the tide and flow of a vault’s subterranean lakes and rivers.

All known vaults are connected to one another by a network of tunnels known as the Veins. Trade and travel between the Stonebloods, in however small a capacity it exists, is completely dependent upon these tunnels. They are also the most permeable sites to incursion from the World Beyond, making them a vital yet dangerous place in Stoneblood culture.

Shale Moot

The vault of Shale Moot lies at the center of a small web of Veins somewhere beneath southern Earthroot in eastern Faerûn. It is so-named for the prominence that dominates much of the vault’s center, and the tribal assembly building which stands atop it. It is an otherwise typical Stoneblood vault.

Points of interest in Shale Moot include...

Makha’s Hearth. The largest settlement in Shale Moot. It is home to a temple dedicated to Luthic and Grumbar, as well as one of the only metalworking forges in the vault.

Luthic’s Bosom. A small quarry where precious stones and ores are carefully hewn out in accordance with religious law. Most quartz in the vault originates here.

Brightforest. A forest of giant, bioluminescent mushrooms where much of the tribes' food and 'wood' are grown. Dead Stoneblood orcs are ‘given back to the earth’ and buried here as fertilizer.

Hurosh’s Dens. A population of dire bears lives in the caves along one face of the vault. They and the Children mostly leave one another alone, but shamans and rangers are known to take their cubs as animal companions.

The Moot. The eponymous meeting place is an island carved out of the center of an old riverbed. The moot serves as a court for disputes between tribes and constituent clans, as well as a triennial gathering of all tribes from adjacent vaults known as the Cairn. The isle is presided over by an elder shaman and her clanless disciples, who act as a neutral third party in all events.

Mudbubble. Geothermal hot springs make this place a cross between a sacred house of healing and a public bath. Most non-Stonebloods find the water too hot and rich in minerals to enjoy.

Gnashing Teeth. The low, damp ceiling here has created a vast field of staggered stalactites and stalactites resembling rows of long teeth.

The Gyre. A large, circular pit occupying one corner of the vault. It descends an unknown depth into the darkness, and all are forbidden to approach it. Sacrifices of quartz and bear meat are made to quiet the rumbling that rises up out of its depths every few years, just in case.

Woeful Cairn. The site of an old battle between tribes that resulted in a near-total massacre of all combatants, as well as the subsequent establishment of Shale Moot to prevent future tragedies.



Adventure Seeds

Contact with the outside world was, for many generations, considered at once unthinkable and impossible. Yet in recent months that belief was tested and found wanting. The Shining Ones, so named for their debilitating dependence upon torches and other bright lights, have finally plumbed the Underdark deep enough to stumble upon the Stonebloods completely by accident while hunting for an Illithid thrall cell.

These Shining Ones, or “adventurers” as they call themselves, brought flesh to the ancient rumors of an upper world. It threw the tribes into a disarray that they are scarcely recovering from now, and it has thrown open the yawning and uncertain doors of possibility for the Children.

Some are interested in venturing beyond their ancestral vaults in search of the world that had been denied to their kind for so many generations. The possibility of new land is also immensely tempting. While conquest is not high on any Stoneblood’s list of priorities, the idea of taking some of the pressure off of their home vault is highly desirable. The idea of meeting new peoples, new cultures, and truly understanding the world they live at the heart of is an equally seductive thought to many youths.

Other Stonebloods instead choose to recoil from the world at large. They believe that they had been sequestered for a good reason, and that contacting the outside world is in defiance of the gods, as well as their better nature. Their attitude mirrors the clannish hostility of near-surface Luthic worshipers, emphasizing xenophobic defensiveness that appeals to many staunch traditionalists.

Most others are somewhere in the middle, or are entirely apathetic to the discovery or the idea of being discovered: they will endure whatever ephemeral changes have been wrought, just as they always have.

But even in the coziest vaults, among the staunchest homebodies, there have been found sprouts of that most hated and prolific weed: adventure.

20 Adventures in the Vaults

1. A strange new disease is ravaging a vault’s rothé herds. The tribes—and the whole ecosystem—may collapse.
2. The crystals lighting the vault’s ceiling are winking out one by one, plunging it into darkness.
3. A breathless messenger stumbles out of the Veins saying their tribe has been attacked by slavers.
4. Two clans threaten to go to war over the deaths of a pair of youths, each blaming the other and demanding justice.
5. The vault’s river ran dry for several days. Now the water is flowing again, but it is befouled and poisonous.
6. One of the Veins collapsed in a recent earthquake. The neighboring vault is stranded, and monsters now infest the tunnels.
7. A Stoneblood adventurer lost their ancestral quartz amulet in the Underdark, and face shame back home if they don’t find it.
8. A Stoneblood shaman had a vision of an imminent natural disaster and claims the only way to avert it is to appease the spirits of the Elemental Plane of Earth.
9. A group of Shining Ones formerly under a chief’s protection has been imprisoned and accused of corrupting the youth with tales of the World Beyond.
10. The vault’s sacred quartz mine was defaced and ransacked, its keepers murdered.
11. Near-surface orcs have made contact with a vault. The Stonebloods hope diplomacy has a chance.
12. A clandestine Gruumsh-worshiping cult has started to gain influence over a tribe’s warriors.
13. A community of Svirfneblin desperately need a type of ore that can only be found in a nearby vault.
14. Enterprising traders from the Veins wish to acquire rare and exotic surface goods for the vaults.
15. A newborn Stoneblood is rumored to have come out of the womb already covered in thick lithoderms- a startling omen in need of answers.
16. Some curse or sickness has rendered a vault’s venerated cave bears mindlessly aggressive.
17. Travelers have found a vault completely abandoned and empty, with no sign of the local tribes.
18. An ambitious and charismatic young chieftain believes the
Stonebloods must face the world as a people united... under a single ruler.
19. Swarms of starving xorns were pushed out of their habitat, and are tearing the vault apart for food.
20. The tribe moot draws near, and preparations for the proceedings must be made.

Stoneblood Orcs

“BLOOD OF THE MOTHER, BONES OF THE EARTH.” Chanted the wizened old shaman as she lifted her hand up high over the newborn, sprinkling bloody earth over their head and shoulders. She then took a cord of woven rothé hair and draped it around the child’s neck. From it dangled a small crystal of pale, glowing quartz- the same sort of quartz which warriors defended with their lives, and which mates exchanged during marriage vows. At that moment the other orcs assembled before the shaman gave a great shout, echoing her words through the cavernous halls. In this way they welcomed the newest member of their tribe into the deep, dark world.
— Merhoon Hresh, Planar Peculiarities Vol. IX

There are a people who live between a literal rock and a hard place. Down, deep down below the earth, below the warrens of kobolds and the holds of dwarves, below the clamorous warcamps of even the deepest orogs, lies a place of transience. In that long-forgotten corner of the Underdark, the barrier between the Prime Material Plane and the Elemental Plane of Earth has grown thin in some places, and broken down completely in others.

Here, the Children of Blood and Stone dwell. They are orcs, or at least akin to them. But they have been radically altered by a genesis of betrayal and passion, and an existence of seclusion and solitude. Divine accidents, they had been content to hide away for generations. Now, they venture beyond their cavernous homes, steady and cautious in a world that has never known them, and knows not what to do with them.

Blood of the Mother

The Stoneblood are orcs born of exposure to the Plane of Earth. They remain superficially similar to orcs, being broad and muscular with tusked jaws and flat, wide features that more prejudiced humans might regard as primitive or even simian.

The similarities peter out from there. Stoneblood orcs possess tough hides and stony protrusions not unlike a goliath’s lithoderms, but on a more extreme scale. Pieces of crystal are known to grow from their heads and shoulders, and their tusks are angular and faceted like pieces of quartz. Their unique biology is divinely inspired, but maintained through more mundane means. When a Stoneblood is born, they are soft and almost smooth-skinned. As they mature and eat the mineral-rich food available in their earthen vaults, their bodies process the minerals into stone and crystal formations. One effect of sickness or old age is for these structures to grow weak and brittle.

Stonebloods are not as tall as orcs closer to the surface, but no less powerfully built. Skin tones range from dark green, to grey-blue, to a foggy amethyst color. Eye color can be as varied as the gemstones found in their vaulted homes. Hair tends to be dark, black, or silvery. They dress conservatively, in drab and muted tones unlike the lurid colors and garish pelts of near-surface orcs. The only spots of color most wear are a necklace of white or yellow quartz, and the occasional tattoo of blue-black or red pigment etched and dyed into their stony skin.

Bones of the Earth

Stoneblood orcs live in cavernous vaults adjacent to the Plane of Earth. They organize themselves into small tribes linked by blood or constructed lineage. These tribes can be highly regimented, and are generally oriented around a mildly matriarchal council of notables advised by a senior shaman. 

Stonebloods survive by hunting the earthy beasts of their home, and by farming a few hardy plants and fungi imported from the Underdark. They also harvest the abundant mineral wealth of their vaults to make tools, as well as works of art. Their skill in stonework is not as technically impressive or as lavish as dwarf engineering, but it possesses its own subtle sophistication and beauty. Where a natural earth vault ends and where Stoneblood artifice begins can be hard for even trained eyes to see- not that many outsiders have ever seen them.

For long, slow centuries the orcs kept to themselves, only periodically interacting with other tribes to trade, socialize, or settle disputes. Tribes typically cooperate through representatives who are sent to a “great council” hosted on neutral ground, often under the auspices of an elder shaman. Warfare of any scale is startlingly uncommon among the Stoneblood orcs, and it is quickly quashed. When differences get out of hand, warchiefs are selected to lead bands of warriors in small-scale ritual battles, or act as champions for their tribe in one-on-one trials by combat. Stoneblood orcs simply don't have the numbers, reproductive ability, or wild abandon that their upper cousins rely upon to lead them to victory in battle. Stonebloods believe that glory means little when so many are left dead, maimed, or starving.

Spawn of the Great Indiscretion

The divine parents of the Stoneblood orcs are Luthic, orcish goddess of caves and motherhood, and Grumbar, the Primordial of Earth. The gods conceived them by accident during one of their many trysts in the depths of the earth, but decided against destroying the misbegotten, soulless facsimiles on the spot.

Luthic still feared that their existence would alert her mate Gruumsh to her dalliances, so she hid them away underground, and Grumbar gave them a place at the far edge of his realm. Luthic later stole a magic orb of quartz from her mate and gifted it to Grumbar. He shattered the orb in his fist, and the shards rained down upon the Stonebloods, piercing them and imbuing them with souls and wills. Together the deities have protected the Stoneblood orcs ever since, through a combination of misdirection and tactical negligence.

Free of the bloodlust that Gruumsh has instilled in most other orcs, the Stonebloods have developed in a way that is far removed from their kin. They are temperate, thoughtful, and patient on an almost geological scale. Where exactly Gruumsh’s lack of influence ends and Grumbar’s influence begins is a matter of debate, but it is a question of huge import to the future of the orcish peoples.

Despite the absence of significant intervention in their lives, the Children of Blood and Stone still venerate their divine parents through quartz and prayer. For even if they do not directly speak to or intercede on behalf of their children, the presence of Luthic and Grumbar is evident in the land itself, and how it challenges yet provides for their children.

Most unusual about the distant-yet-present faith of the Stoneblood orcs is that it still appears to afford them spiritual power. While many shamans are druids of some kind, enough of them claim to be clerics of Luthic to bring into question just how much attention the Cave Mother really is affording her sheltered children, and by what means.

Isolated and Concealed

The Stoneblood orcs have been separated from most other sapient species for centuries. Any
relationships or grudges they have tend to be directed at each other, rather than at the people of the World Beyond. Nevertheless, they have had enough dealings with outsiders for some trends to develop.

Orcs. The “favored” children of Gruumsh see their sheltered kin as weak and misbegotten. If given the opportunity, their more warlike cousins would either destroy the Stonebloods, or subjugate them in the name of the One-Eyed God.

Genasi. The planetouched are a mixed bag for Stonebloods: they are ambivalent toward fire and water, standoffish and distrusting of the capricious air, and distantly friendly toward their earthy fellows.

Dwarves, Elves, Humans, etc. The Stonebloods have never meant any of these peoples any ill will, but those who have been raided by orcs for ages are reluctant to trust the word of another orc, no matter how crystalline and craggy they may be.

Stoneblood Orc Names

Stoneblood orcs tend to have unisex names drawn from a mixture of orc names and auspicious Terran words. Stoneblood orcs lack family names. They refer to other members of the same tribe by their given name plus the name of their mother with the prefix ken-, i.e., Doaarun the son of Makha would be Doaarun ken-Makha. Tribe names are derived from ancient totems, shared female ancestors (real or legendary), and famous landmarks.

Names: Arong, Bheldez, Guldre, Kulro, Mish’kha, Narhosh, Toron, Uurtch, Wa’marag, Zamaa.
Tribe Names: Beryl Fist, Krenka’s Tor, Rust River, Tsaagat’s Hollow, Xorn-Claw.

Stoneblood Orc Traits

Ability Score Increase. Your Strength score increases by 2, and your Wisdom score increases by 1.

Age. Stoneblood orcs mature and age slower than surface orcs. They reach adulthood at 15 and live up to 80 years.

Alignment. Stoneblood orcs inherited clannish rigidity from their mother, and dispassionate steadiness from their father. They tend toward lawful and neutral alignments. A few are lawful evil, preaching xenophobia against all outsiders, including other orcs.

Size. Stoneblood orcs are stockier than their softer kin, averaging less than 6 feet in height while remaining just as heavy. Your size is Medium.

Speed. Your base walking speed is 30 feet.

Darkvision. You can see in dim light within 60 feet of you as if it were bright light, and in darkness as if it were dim light. You can't discern color in darkness, only shades of gray.

Powerful Build. Your back is broad, and your bones are dense. You count as one size larger when determining your carrying capacity and the weight you can push, drag, or lift.

Blood of Stone. Your dark blood runs like tar, clotting quickly and affording you some limited protection. You have advantage on saving throws against conditions that cause bleeding, and you have resistance to damage related to blood loss.

Skin of Shale. Your body is covered in stony plates and protrusions that can turn away a blow. When you aren't wearing armor, your AC is 13 + your Dexterity modifier. You also have advantage on Dexterity (stealth) checks to hide in rocky terrain.

Cave Born. Your kind are born of the cavernous womb of the earth. You know the Mold Earth cantrip. Wisdom is your spellcasting modifier for it. You also never get lost underground.

Endurant. Expanding and surviving in the vaults of your treacherous and elemental home plane has made your people resourceful. You are proficient in Survival.

Tool Proficiency. You gain proficiency with the artisan’s tool of your choice: mason’s tools, or jeweler’s tools.

Languages. You can speak, read and write Common, Orc, and Primordial (Terran). The Stoneblood orc dialect contains many loanwords from Primordial. It features heavy agglutination and slight vowel harmony, and is said to have the cadence of a stone tumbling down a steep hill.

Children of Blood & Stone: Because I'd rather not use the DMs Guild

About a year-and-a-half ago I started to seriously consider writing my own short supplements for sale on WotC's DMs Guild. The store was still new and shiny (to me at least), and I figured that literally any cut of money from a $1 PDF was better than the zero I was presently enjoying.

So I settled on putting a pretty modest spin on orcs, got to work, and in a couple of weeks I slapped together what felt like a fairly decent D&D 5th edition ancestry. I also came up with some fun world-building inspired by a deep lore pull from a 4th edition transitionary novel that I'm almost certain nobody ever read, including me. I even got some lovely art to furnish the piece with.

Of course, Furtive being furtive, I stalled out toward the end. Anxiety over getting the product reviewed and edited, let alone getting it approved by the store and releasing it for sale, kept me from getting any farther than creating an account for the site. And so the mini-supplement sat on my Google Drive for over a year, collecting dust next to some spreadsheets and the desiccated corpse of an old Goblin Watch episode.

In retrospect, I'm kind of glad for that.

The recent OGL scandal is pretty bad, but it's only one of a number of things I'm not super fond of WotC for. Corporations are not our friends, after all. Also, since I've become increasingly involved in indie projects over the past year or so, it just doesn't feel personally appropriate to do something like I was originally planning.

So instead of doing any amount of business with the DMs Guild or risking a stern email by selling it on itch.io or some such, I opted to just scribble out the logo and release the whole thing here for free, both in janky-but-mostly-finished PDF form, and divided up into two blog posts accessible below.

If you like my stuff enough to want to support me, you can always go to my Ko-fi instead.

Also, check out the other stuff made by the artist, Coleen! She's a long-time patron of the blog who made my banner and avatar way back when. I wouldn't have made this without her help.


Children of Blood & Stone:




Friday, January 13, 2023

So I've been working on another book.

For those of my little readership who have wisely hopped off of Twitter in recent weeks, I have an announcement that may not yet have reached you.

I've been working with The Lawful Neutral and David Schirduan over at Technical Grimoire to make a new RPG book titled Bridgetown!


What started as a random jam session with John over weird old medieval architecture last year led to us slowly cobbling together an entire campaign setting for the Troika! RPG, but you can use it for just about anything weird and wacky.

Bridgetown is a pastoral liminal setting, as we've taken to calling it. The whole world is a single massive Bridge suspended in nothingness between the endless Sky and the murky Under. On this infinite Bridge, there are countless weirdos and colorful characters to be found, inspired in part by the denizens of old fairytales, old school British fantasy, and our own bizarre collective sense of humor.

Imagine the Three Billy Goats Gruff as painted by Hieronymus Bosch, and you're basically there.

Bridgetown is a game of travel and exploration, even as the world tries to do everything it can to stop you from doing both: Tyrannical turnpike guilds erect massive gatehouses to divide the Bridge up into fiefs and rule them, creatures made of rarified reality bubble up from the Under like curious but extremely dangerous children, and the Bridge itself is slowly crumbling away into nothingness.

But until then, your bridge punk has plenty to do.

The book sports dozens of locations, NPCs, original spells and character backgrounds, a gigantic and wonderfully weird random "Weather" table, and referee advice on where and how to start in an infinite world like this.

We're nearing completion, and you'll have a way to purchase the finished (and damn beautiful, thanks to David and Charlie) hardcover in the near future.

The best place to go for updates is the official Bridgetown link up above, but you can also keep abreast by following us on any of our various social medias. 

I really need to figure out how to start a tumblr soon...

Friday, December 23, 2022

3E OdditE: Archive

I think I've gone on record enough by now, talking about how I grew up on 3rd edition D&D. I've never actually played much of it or Pathfinder 1E, but it's the ruleset I spent the most time with, and through which I discovered my fondness for the character building process. But I don't have any illusions that 3E wasn't an extremely lopsided system prone to bloat and breakage.

It was, or at least tried to be, granular and simulationist with certain facets of play, mostly combat. But it was pretty abstract and vague in a lot of other areas. Or, where hard numbers were given, it's apparent they weren't given the greatest scrutiny during playtesting- a few examples are economics, item weights, and the way the skill system tends to get out of hand and devolve into big dumb numbers (dumbers, if you will) at medium-to-high levels.

In my opinion the biggest gulf in direction, ambition, and quality exists in prestige classes published in core, splatbooks, and the Dragon or more rarely Dungeon magazines. They brought a flavor of player character jank to the biggest tabletop RPG on the market that hadn't really existed outside of the smaller d100 market before then, to my knowledge. Don't get me wrong, I know 2E AD&D kits could be wild sometimes. But you were typically limited to one at a time back then, whereas 3E players were mechanically incentivized to cherry-pick levels from a huge range of base and prestige classes to get the kind of character they wanted, as long as they met qualifications and the table allowed it.

This system and design philosophy allowed prestige classes to be hyper-focused in terms of flavor and abilities, to the point that many were considered really only for use by NPCs, which were built the exact same way as PCs. But PCs could still use them if they were on the table. There was nothing stopping them from tearing open those flavor packets and dumping some or all of their contents into the gooey mélange that was their character gumbo, except maybe the knowledge that it wasn't necessarily a good idea to do so.

All of this is rambling preamble to me exploring some of the quirkiest character options 3E had to offer, dealing mostly but not exclusively with PrCs published through splats and Drag Mag. I know for a fact that dozens, probably hundreds of other people have already written similar-but-better things across blogs and message boards over the past two decades, but it seems fun.

I don't mean to rag on any particular creation for its failings, except in instances where I very clearly am trying to trash something into oblivion. But otherwise, I love and celebrate this kinda junk. It was a weird, new time for writing player-facing material, and it wasn't an easy job.

I'll be pulling most of my information from the "complete" edit of the 3.5E SRD, or by digging into my old collections of books when the material hasn't been added yet. When possible I'll just link to the entry and make reference to it, and if you want to you can read along, to save space reposting entire tables or other minutia word-for-word.

OdditE's so far:


Official Splatbooks

Ambient Tempest (Bestiary of Krynn, 2004)

Hexer (Masters of the Wild, 2002)

Dragon/Dungeon Magazines

Branch Dancer (Dragon #310)

Dvati (Dragon #271/Dragon Compendium)

Githyanki Prestige Classes (Dungeon #100)

Urban Druid (Dragon #317/Dragon Compendium)

3E OdditE: Branch Dancer (Dragon #310, August 2003)

Click here to return to the OdditE archive.


Branch Dancer

The Branch Dancer feels like a logical conclusion of the shallow, "tree-hugging" elf stereotype that D&D products regularly dip in and out of, though notably the class isn't limited to elves or half-elves. You just have to be non-evil, possess a handful of low skill and feat requisites, prove your arboreal heroism to a treant, and get another Branch Dancer to train you.

The Branch Dancer is a 5-level prestige class written by Michael Merls and/or Jeff Quick in the "Rogue and Dagger" section of Dragon #310. It's a class that wants to be a woodland warrior who has grown so close to the forest's trees that they can use them defensively and offensively. The cinematic potential for this is obvious; dodging in between tree trunks to avoid blows, ambushing invaders from the safety of boughs and canopies, knocking someone flat with a wound-up sapling like it's a slapstick skit, etc.

A demonstration by Belkar, of all people.

But in its execution, it uses one of the inexplicably funniest sentences I've ever read in D&D:

"The character essentially gains "tree" as an exotic weapon proficiency."

That line comes from the 1st level ability Branch Fighting (Ex), which does exactly what it says. It lets you use branches as 1d8 damage weapons or double weapons while you're within 5 feet of a tree. At 4th level they go up to 1d10 and count as +1 weapons. Notably, these are branches still attached to the tree- not broken off.

The ability accomplishes what the class sets out to do, but it does so in a way that highlights the goofy steps you have to take to conform to 3E's rules in order to make things work, while still leaving frustrating holes elsewhere for you to interpret. By RAW, you only need to be next to a living tree, but it doesn't say anything about tree size or reach, so that redwood or Vallenwood tree serves perfectly well even if you're standing hundreds of feet below its actual branches. Branch Fighting also grants cover, which means even a sapling is potentially as good as a tower shield.

All of the class' other abilities are similarly tree-reliant. They can speak to trees, spider climb across wooden surfaces like a 10th-level sorcerer, and tree stride as a 9th-level druid, though they can only use each of these twice a day. Developers were leery of giving martial characters "too many" magical or supernatural abilities up until very late in 3rd edition, and it's illustrated here.

I don't know if that feeling was felt by most writers involved with D&D at the time, or if it was something only shared by the editors and project leads who had final say in the matter. I should look into that. Regardless, if the dancer could do all of those at-will they'd fill their modest niche pretty well. But outside of those minute-long increments they feel a little like a ranger deprived of their favored terrain- and most of their other class features.

An unexpected break from this trend can be found in the 3rd level ability Skill Mastery (Ex). It's an extremely simple ability that lets the dancer Take 10 on any climb, balance, jump, move silently, or survival check regardless of circumstances, even when distracted or in danger. It's... not amazing, but just kinda nice to have? You get it much earlier than a rogue would have the opportunity to select their own version of Skill Mastery, and it would be nice if more mundane characters got something similar early on. Or maybe it would have only caused the skill optimization dumbers game to be that much worse for half a decade. Who knows?

One other ability I want to focus on is Instant Fletching (Su). At 2nd level the dancer gains the ability to magically pluck wooden arrows from trees as a free action like they're giant free-range quivers. The arrows are normal in all respects, can be hoarded because unlike similar abilities they don't have a limited duration, and also they upgrade to +1 at 4th level. But it's the back half of the ability's text that interests me:

"Each 20 arrows drawn from a tree reduces its age by one year. Trees generally do not mind this, but the ability can kill a sapling or weaken a young tree with repeated use, so it is generally reserved for mature trees (usually of Huge size or larger)."

It doesn't reduce a tree's lifespan by 1 year, it de-ages it. That's an effect that is pretty rare across 3E rules outside of higher-level magic spells. Sure, it only affects trees, but there are still so many unintended implications and possibilities opened up by this weird wording.

Imagine a dancer pulling a functionally infinite number of arrows out of the forest and giving them to the surrounding communities as a more sustainable source of not just arrows, but everything else a bunch of feet-long wooden sticks can be made into. Trees that bloom or bear fruit only once every few years could be made to provide them regularly, meaning a deep forest village could survive entirely on silviculture as long as the local fey are permissive. Some ancient magical tree somewhere could be reaching the end of its lifespan, and only a group of branch dancers can revitalize it to avert a local catastrophe. Etc. What starts as a bit of shenanigans could ultimately lead to some real emergent gameplay.

The Branch Dancer is not a strong class, not even within the niche it aspires to. It probably is best left as an "NPC PrC", or maybe as a thematic quest reward at the end of a character arc. But it's still interesting to look at and think about. And I think that might be what really matters in the end- it gives me something to write about here, after all.