Forbidden Lands – Artefacts, Encounters and Adventure Sites

The potential spoilers come think and fast in the last three chapters of the Gamemasters’ Guide. And so, we come to the last instalment of my “Where I Read…”

There is hardly anything I can say about the artefacts chapter without spoiling anything. Eighteen artefacts are described, potential sites of discovery suggested in each description. But the authors stress that’s its entirely up to you, where your players actually find these things. Unlike the demons in the bestiary, there is nothing randomly generated I can get excited about (Though there is a d66 table if you want to randomly decide which of the 18 artefacts your players discover). If you want to know more you’ll have to get out there, exploring the Forbidden Lands. Or volunteer to be GM.

The Encounters chapter starts with a table, cross-referencing d66 with terrain type, to provide a number between zero and 43. Zero means nothing happens, each of the other 43 encounters are subsequently described, with stats where required, or pointing you to stats elsewhere in the book. These encounters are not just wandering monsters. They could become adventure hooks. Some are repeatable, but others, once played through, couldn’t really happen to the same party twice. That’s not a problem though, if you had nots about what happened last time, and one of the NPC survived, you could continue the story, or take inspiration from the encounter but change the details, or simply re-roll. There are some intriguing references to SIMPLE, VALUABLE and PRECIOUS finds, suggesting, a random treasure table.

And indeed, in the final chapter, Adventure Sites, we discover a number of such tables, beginning on page 186. There are d66 tables for Simple, Valuable and Precious Carried Finds, and Finds in a Lair. Each lists the item, it’s value in coin, and its encumbrance. The items range from coin (the most common result – a few coppers in simple carried finds, to gold silver and copper in precious finds in the lair) to, on a roll of 66 on the precious lair table, an artefact, which explains the random artefact table in the chapter. When the encumbrance column shows a number rather that usual light, normal or heavy, that’s the number of people required to carry it. There’s a supplementary table of oddities, which modifies the items you rolled in other tables: it might be bent, burned or have bite marks in it, for example, each of which halves the value. Or it might turn out to be twice as valuable to a dwarf.

All these tables though are preceded by extensive tables for creating a random adventure site. The chapter starts off with a very important note, which applies to both the pre-written sites, and the ones you may generate.

An adventure site is not a scenario in the traditional sense. It has locations, NPCs and events – but it does not provide a pre-determined narrative for the adventurers to follow. Instead, they can interact with an adventure site in many different ways

In fact there may well be more than one narrative opportunity at each site. It’s up the players, and the GM to make the site into a narrative of their very own. Over them, the player character actions might well change sites so that when they return, other narrative opportunities are on offer.

You start off creating a new site by defining it as a village, dungeon or castle. In play this may well be prompted by what’s on the map, but if you want, for example if there are ruins marked on the map, you can roll randomly. a village is then defined by its size (population) and age, before moving on to how it’s ruled. You can roll twice on a d66 to create a bickering Rust Brother or Brutal council, for example.

Other d66 roles give the village:

  • a problem, including widespread drunkenness or Bandits;
  • a claim to fame, delicious bread or strange disappearances; and
  • an oddity like inbreeding or a Old Burial Site

Then depending on the size of the village you roll for between zero and eleven “institutions” such as inns, stables, militia etc. There are an inn generator too, with randomly rolled names like The Rumping Druid or The Singing Jar. A few more rolls provide each inn with an oddity, speciality and special guest. So you might see a singing sister serve blood soup to a secretive spellbinder (shouldn’t that be “Sorcerer”? Ed.).

Your Dungeon on the other hand can be anything between d6 and over 1,100 years old. With between d6 and 6d6+50 rooms. It could have had one of seven original uses, one of ten builders, elves to a demon (with ten motivations, vengeance to passion) or developed naturally. You can discover one of ten fates for those original builders too. It might nave have between one and three different inhabitants (or groups) from a choice of 24, and one of 36 oddities. There are seventeen different types of entrance (shades of #D&Dgate).

There is even a dungeon room generator, that allows you to create a dungeon on the fly, with treasure and traps, as the players are exploring it! (Or in advance if you prefer)

Similarly, Castles can be defined with random rolls to determine:

  • Type and size;
  • Age;
  • Original purpose;
  • Founder (and the founder’s Reputation)n
  • Condition;
  • History;
  • Inhabitants (including an “Is it really empty?” table or a “Who has moved in?” table);
  • It’s Oddity of course (gotta have an oddity); and,
  • It’s name.

But wait! We’re not done with the random generation. There are stat blocks here for typical NPC, and else where of course for other kin and followers of religious orders. But here too is the table for discovering a their occupation, defining characteristic (from eye patch to unkempt eyebrows, which on reflection doesn’t seem far enough for a “from … to” example) and a personal quirk.

Reading though the adventure sites themselves, you can imagine them being created by rolling on these tables (well maybe not for Inn names), and they demonstrate what a powerful tool set this is. Part of me really wants to run a totally emergent story, relying on dice and the imagination of the players to create the narrative. With just a little note taking after each session, a savvy GM would quickly work out when to forgo a dice roll in favour of reintroducing a NPC or developing situation from a previous adventure.

So this is the last of my posts in this “Where I read…” and I have to say, I am very excited for this game. We played an adventure already (and recorded it, so you will soon have the opportunity to hear us groking the rules), and o think we all love it. It was meant to be a one-off, to fill a gap in our schedule, but my players already want another session and are growing into their randomly generated characters.

All hail the return of the dice!

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Forbidden Lands – Bestiary

At the end of this chapter there are lists of normal animals, from Bear to Crocodile, and Dog to Scorpion. I am a bit disappointed that there are not more exotic mounts – the lists include only Horse and Warhorse as obvious mounts. I hope we might get some more when the cards are published. For now though, I have let my goblin ride a wolf, and my Elf a Stag. But you don’t want to read about those. You want monsters.

Now we are getting into spoiler territory. I am going to keep my notes on Monsters to a minimum, because such creatures, their abilities, behaviours and weaknesses are things that players should discover in play.

But to begin with it’s worth talking about rules for monsters, or rather, how the rules are different for monsters. You generally can’t parry, grapple, or feint monsters, and being xxxxxxxx, they are immune to xxxx attacks (actually that last might count as a spoiler, so redacted). You can disarm and shove some monsters but you will need multiple successes to do so, depending on their strength. The key difference is that they Strength rating behaves more like traditional hit points. Unlike player-characters they don’t get less effective as they take more damage.

Although actually their melee attacks are not based on strength anyway – one of the coolest features of the bestiary is that each monster has six monster attacks. Six, so that you can choose to roll randomly, although if you prefer your monsters to be more tactically astute, you can choose which attack to you. Each attack tells you how many dice to roll, and how much damage a single success does. Extra successes each add one more point of damage.

As I said, I am going to keep most of the monsters secret from any players who might be reading. But by way of example, let’s imagine you see a huge figure with a bulls head approaching, carrying a two-handed axe. This isn’t a monster unique to the system, but a Minotaur. the creatures monster attacks range from Bull Fist (using eight base dice to deliver at least one point of damage and blunt force crits) to:

STOMPING ATTACK! The Minotaur jumps high in the air, landing hard on top of the adventurer. The victim is felled to the ground if hit. The attack is performed using twelve Base Dice and Weapon Damage 1 (blunt force).

A demon, but probably not the one you are going to meet…

My favourite monsters though are Demons, and I can tell you a little bit more without spoiling your players’ fun, because Demons are randomly generated! Five tables, each d66, with some results asking for a further random roll, means you are unlikely to meet the Demon I just created. It looks human, but when it opens its eyes or mouth it in filled with a blinding inner light (Fear attack, 9 base dice). It’s fingers are calcified into fearsome claws (7 base dice, 2 damage) but it also carries a trident. Don’t let it touch you or it could take you over (works like Rank 3 Puppeteer spell). Only music will drive it away so make sure you have perform skill.

Forbidden Lands – Kin

This is a meaty chapter, but already I find it more accessible than the earlier history. Why? Because it’s about geography. It starts with a double page spread, showing a version of the map with labels indicating the distribution of kin. We learn that there is a notional division between East and West, with most human communities in the East under the protection of the Shardmaiden, while those in the West look towards the Rust Brothers and Zytera. We learn indeed that the Shardmaiden, Rust and Heme are more vital to everyday life, and that Wyrm, Wail, Flow and Clay are regarded as “the old gods”.

The traditional Congregation of the Serpent can be found everywhere, but often keeps its head down so as to not challenge the newer faiths.

Alderlanders, Aislanders and Aslenes are lumped together with half-elves (both Frailers and Elvenspring) and the Misgrown as “Humans” in this chapter. Each culture though gets a summary of its origins, history, aesthetics and attitudes and a “typical” stat-block.

So if half elves count as human, the elves themselves must be pretty homogenised, right? No so, even other kin recognise there are two types: Stillelves – normally those who have lived a long time, and now spend years “lying under an oak tree to observe the changing seasons of the year or the slow withering of a rock”; and The Unruly – more active elves which the authors hope players will choose to be, because they haven’t written any mechanics for watching rocks erode. But within the Stillelves and The Unruly there are other groupings of elfkin, druids of The Golden Bough; observant Melders and violent and arrogant Redrunners.

The Stillelves lovingly tolerate this rage, saying that all elves tend to go through a few centuries as Unruly while they are young. Wisdom comes with age.

Which somewhat contradicts the Players’ Handbook where, on page 31 it says “Elves don’t age in the normal sense of the word. Technically, they all count as adult.” Reading that book, I had thought that all elves appeared when the red star dropped its rubies on the world, and the only “young” they had were half-elves. This chapter does reveal though, a method by which a Stillelf might be broken apart to create more new elves. It’s important to note that elves are not the elegant pointy eared bodies we see, but the ruby crystals they have for hearts. Stillelves may choose to meld they hearts with trees to become ents. Or just hang around as rubies in a temple chatting (silently) with each other. It’s said that even if their body is totally destroyed, the ruby can grow a new one.

There is an interesting thread running through these cultures that reveal an awareness of the cosmos. The Elves understand the Redrunner as s shooting star or comet, the Dwarves understand the Earth as a sphere, and the sun as the nearest star. When they have built the earth big enough to reach the sun, they expect to reach beyond that to the more distant “hearths”.

They do not think of themselves as miners as we imagine them, quarrying stone with which to build, but creators of stone. And given some of the spells in the Players Handbook it seems likely that they are. For the first time we hear of “massive ruins across the Forbidden Lands, seemingly useless constructions the dwarves claim are the foundation for the next layer of the world.”

The Dwarves are organised into clans, who argue with each other about “how to perform their great work and where they will be seated at the god’s table in the next world and the next.” The Beldarrians consider themselves the royal clan, and the Meromannians the ones who have most conflict with humans. The Canides or Iron Hounds though are the ones who someday most time on the surface world, and are darker skinned that their very pales cousins. They fought alongside the Meromannians when the humans invaded. I the impromptu game I ran at the weekend, I gave Andy’s goblin rider a Canide Warhound. I see I shall have to fix that in the next session. The final clan named are the reclusive Crombes. There is also a mention of Dwelvers, who Dwarves regard as their forefathers.

Ogres are the dependents of dwarf/human half breeds, and very much a law unto themselves:

Ogres love their freedom and celebrate life and are as erratic as they are curious. They are also brutal beasts who take whatever they want using brute strength. For entertainment, they might rip the arms of a prisoner, let him go free, and then wager stolen kegs of beer on how far the unarmed prisoner can run before bleeding to death.

However, as has been hinted at before, not all dwarf/human hybrids behave this way. Without naming them, the text refers to the Valondians who stay with the dwarves as blacksmiths and craftsmen. I begin to get how Fria Ligan works with these little unexplained mentions – perhaps the Valondians will feature in Ravens Purge.

I have a lot of love for the Orc story here, because they are slave race, righteous in their anger at how they have been treated. What I like in particular are how some of the popular (post-Tolkien) tropes of Orcs in games and media, are given reason in this imaginary society. I like their matriarchal leadership, because only one in eight Orcs are born female, and only half the males survive to adulthood. Half of those survivors, any who show fear and will not fight, are enslaved by the others. There is no dishonour in losing a fight, though winners are of course the highest ranking.

There are some contradictions. Though clans are run by the females, they do so though the most dominant male Orc. So, for example the Urhur, or purple, clan “is ruled by the self-proclaimed Emperor Hroka the First and the Greatest.” Hroka’s imperial ambitions mean this is the most outgoing, “civilised” clan. General Archa’s Roka clan are the most militaristic, but it’s the Isir clan who hate the other kin the most. The Viraga are the glue that hold the clans together. A group of female Orcs who are dedicated to increasing the knowledge and power of the Orc kin. So far, in my read-through, it’s the write up of the Orcs that has inspired the most thought of stories I might add to the campaign, or characters I might want to play. But there is a bit missing piece of the Orc story – do they worship gods?

The Wolfkin worship Heme, and like the Rust Bothers, were somewhat immune to the terrors of the Blood Mist, and do their is some affinity between the two groups. They are despised by pretty much everyone else, many of whom consider them to be some failed experiment of the Sorcerer Zygofer. The of course take exception to such slurs.

They despise civilization intensely and believe they have found their way back to nature and the original form of their ancestors, away from the weakening and destructive ways that caused the human kin to lose their fur and distort the land.

The marsh dwelling Saurians use crocodile as beasts of burden, and trade with the other kin for metal tools which they can not make themselves. Whiners are a sentient kin, hunted by both Orcs and humans for their “sweet meat” and for their ability to grow gold when it inserted under their skin. I think, to be honest, this just shows us how unlikeable the humans of the Forbidden Lands are. The entry on halflings and goblins teaches us very little new, except that goblins have night vision, and suffer one point of damage to agility every quarter day if daylight, which players of goblin characters might want to know.

Forbidden Lands – Gods

Are the gods of Forbidden Lands real within this world? Or are they just old stories, told and retold until they take of different meanings, different names even?

We know the icons of the Third Horizon in Coriolis are real, because if you pray to them you are rewarded with an increased chance of success. But in the Forbidden Lands, characters find the strength to succeed within themselves. That said, characters with a stronghold can gain willpower if they have a shrine…

One thing I like about the pantheon of gods described here is the idea that a number of the gods are not a pantheon at all, but rather a different understanding of, or name for, a god who may or may not exist. When things are going badly, it natural to desire, or to ascribe your survival to, a Protector God, and so it is for the humans of the Forbidden Lands. They all agree that such a god exists, but they can not agree on its naming or shape.

According to legend, he flew before the ships in the form of a raven with a snake in his claws.

The first schism is over which of these two creatures is the actual god. Was it the snake, Wyrm, carried by a holy but not divine bird? Or was it Raven, who carried the mother of snakes and words across the oceans to prepare the land for humankind?

So two human churches are pitted against one another: The Congregation of the Serpent regards the Raven Church as heretics, and their persecution of the Raven Sisters drove the first human, or Ailander, settlement in the Forbidden Lands. That migration caused the Raven church itself to split – an offshoot cult, the Reapenters or Blackwings, believe that they must rid the Forbidden Lands of humankind, by killing themselves only after they have killed every other human in Ravenland.

A more enlightened school of thought might suggest that perhaps Raven and Snake are aspects of the same divinity. As such a school does exist. However, they use different names. Believing the bird made of iron, and the snake wood, they think it is the materials themselves, not the animals that are divine, and call them Rust and Heme.

But so far we are talking only about the god(s) of humans. The kin who lived here before Wyrm (or the Raven, or Rust and Heme) led humankind here have their own gods, and the Dwarven god is Huge.

That’s his name.

The dwarves have their own creation myth, which gives them a task of building the world big enough to reach Huge’s Hearth, the sun. I note with interest that they are charged with “expanding the Earth” – note that capital E, does this suggest we are playing in some far future or aeons old version of our own planet? Theirs seems a fascinating religion, which I want to know more about. They believe in reincarnation, but also “in a parallel spirit world, where their soles rest and are trained by Huge for their next work shift in the world.” This of all the new takes on the “standard fantasy” racial types is the one that intrigued me most.

“Clay is the god who shaped the world at the Protector’s behest,” worshipped by the Elvensping, but only also by “many elves”. Which suggests that though Clay is a product of elven society (Elvenspring are half-elves from elven culture remember), some elves may have grown beyond worship. That said “all elves” honour Wail. Wail is, according to the Raven Sisters, the wife of the Raven, who carries him and all other birds through the sky. So, Wail is the wind, and weather, and Flow is the water goddess “worshipped by elves, Elvenspring, and villagers.” Maybe the elves are not as enlightened as I thought they might be.

The Nightwalker is the oldest of all the gods. “Normal people do not worship him but may seek to appease him to avoid bad luck and disaster, sometimes by blood sacrifice.” I like that, “normal people,” implying that there may well be weird psychopaths who definitely do worship him.

The final god named is Horn, brought to the Ravenland by the Aslene. Or rather, since Horn is a volcano in their homelands, they have brought the worship of him, as a god of fire.

I like this pantheon. I like it enough to wish there was a mechanic, like prayer in Coriolis, that encourages characters to demonstrate their devotion to one or more of them. But I also like the gritty, direct cost of re-rolls in this system.

You can’t have everything.

Forbidden Lands – History

Up front, I have to admit, I hate chronologies. Despite working in heritage for … wow … for a long time, I am not a fan of “this happened and then this happened”. In fact, at school I much preferred Geography to History. And I’m remembering that I have already said pretty much is same thing in one of the earliest posts on this blog. So I will shut up about that now.

Now, many of you readers will love a chronology, but I have to be honest, when I looked at the the second chapter of the Gamemaster’s Guide History, my heart sank. I knew I was in for a chronology. I did get a pleasant surprise though. The whole thing is set out in about a page and a half of text. And if you like chronology as much as me, you will be heartened by the paragraph that follows that brief summary:

The text above explains the Forbidden Lands’s history in broad strokes, enough for you as GM to run the game and understand the connection between the places and people of the Forbidden Lands.

So, you only need to read the rest of the chapter is you want more detail. Or maybe you can flip back to the chapter when you want more detail about some legend the PCs have heard, or something they come across in an adventure. If I wasn’t doing a “where I read…” I could, and would, skip the rest.

But I am. And I can’t.

It’s taken me a while to get through. I simply can’t be bothered to read it for long before finding something else to do. Chronologies aren’t written like novels you see, they don’t entice you but dangling questions in front of you that would hope will be answered later. Reading a novel, you find you self asking “why?”, reading a chronology, all you get is because.

And while I was reading, I realised there’s another problem with writing this post. How much can I reveal here without spoiling it for players?

I can say this though. There are no goodies and baddies in this story. Well, there are no goodies anyhow. Every bad thing that happens in this story can be pinned on somebody being, well, selfish. The most blameless of all the peoples in this history are the Ailanders, and their rivals for that position are the Orcs. Which should tell you everything you need to know about pretty much everyone else. No everyone though … I have only just realised that the chapter doesn’t mention the Wolfkin, at all. The only time the word is mentioned is in the short bit of introductory fiction that starts every chapter.

Round the beggar from Varassa all sat in a ring, and by the campfire they sat and heard his song. And about walkers and wolfkin and every terrible thing, and of his fear he sang to them all night long

Well, the beggar from Varassa might sing about “walkers and Wolfkin” but the authors of this chapter don’t. The omissions go both ways though. The players guide introduced us to half-elves and more about their origins in explained more here, but the history also tells us about half-Dwarfs, which are not mentioned in the players handbook. Most of these are ogres, which I guess will feature in a creatures chapter. But, there is also an enticing mention that some human-dwarf hybrids were “called Valondians and were highly regarded in the forges and workshops.” What happened to them I wonder?

I could argue that the history focuses too much on personalities, and smacks of “great men” history rather than “history from below” or psychogeography, but great men is how history has been written for centuries in the real world, so why should this be any different. Anyhow, most of the action takes place in the ninth century, and involves a good deal of allies turning against each other and the rise of a Frailer (a half -Elf of humanocentric culture) into what we might call a “Dark Lord” although, by the end of the history he is no longer a “Lord” … or even a “He”. Then comes the blood mist, and three centuries of isolation. The history reveals a fascinating aspect of the blood mist, which I dare not reveal because … spoilers.

I will reveal these three secrets however, with as little context as I can, just because I like how the words come together. If you don’t want to see them, look away now:

Soon oddly twisted beings, completely or partly from other worlds, moved throughout Harga.

and

The messenger returned with a living pig head attached to his shoulders.

and finally

When Zytera stepped in front of Alderstone’s Misgrown and half-demons for the first time, it was hailed as a horrible god.

Forbidden Lands – The Gamemaster

This has to be one of the best opening chapters to a GMs book (or nowadays, GMs section) that I have ever read. Let me tell you what I particularly like. First of all the authors take a leaf out of Powered by the Apocalypse games and set out the Principles of the Game, from the second page of the chapter. These principles are maybe not as tight as many PbtA games, maybe a little wordier, but they do try and define what makes this game different, and how the GM should make it feel different. For example the first principle is: “1. THE WORLD LIES BEFORE YOU” and the text beneath it says (among other things):

Place the large map in the middle of the table and allow the players to ponder and discuss where they want to go. Don’t steer them; instead, answer questions and inspire them.

In fact, I can’t do any harm, and I won’t spoil the game if I just share the other six principles, with some of the text that inspires me, and that should inspire you to want to play this game.

2. THE LAND IS FULL OF LEGENDS … Every monster, every artifact, every adventure site and every character of importance in campaign modules like Raven’s Purge have their own legend. All of these are available to download as player material that you can present to the players when they get to hear or read the legends in their travels…

3. THE ADVENTURERS MAKE THEIR OWN FATE … As GM this means that you have to listen to the players and build on the story of the game based on their choices and actions…

4. NOTHING IS FOR FREE … Life is hard in the Forbidden Lands. The adventurers will have to struggle for the bare necessities like food, water and a roof over their heads. Hold back on the treasures and rewards…

5. THEM THAT’S GOT SHALL LOSE

6. DEATH IS PART OF THE STORY …The rules are written so that it’s relatively easy to become Broken, but rather difficult for a player character to die… Yet, sooner or later, player characters will still die. Allow it to happen – the players need to be reminded now and then that their adventurers aren’t immortal…

7. THE END IS NEVER SET … Never decide how the story should end ahead of time.

Then, there is some really good advice for GMs particularly so because it stresses the difference between the first session and subsequent ones. The advice eases the GM into the role gently, saying things like “Don’t plan too much. Don’t devise a grand intrigue for the first session. It will emerge later. Keep an open mind.” I love this bit in particular:

Let it be tentative. During the first session, the players feel out their characters. Let it take its time. Listen more than you talk. Use random encounters to advance the story, but don’t rush. Ask questions. Make notes. See the first session as a prologue, before the real story begins.

Don’t rush, they say, you might not even get to the adventure site you chose for their first encounter. They might only have played through the random encounter they suggest your prepare “if you want.” Which is exactly how every session one should be played, no matter how extensive the session zero prep work has been. There is really good advice for handling consumables later in the chapter, that makes it clear that in this game, PCs should find mere survival a challenge. Perhaps the first session is an opportunity to this those mechanics a real test. But later on, “when the focus lies elsewhere” you should allow the characters to get hold of Food more easily.

Subsequent sessions should be built on the events on the previous one, of course. If they are still heading for the adventure site you chose previously, great. If not, give them access to another couple of Legends, so they they have a choice about what to seek out next. But most importantly:

Avoid preparing too much – the risk is that your plans may become difficult to adapt to the players’ actions. 15–30 minutes of preparation is plenty most of the time.

There is great advice on handling NPCs too, including a reminder that your players will break, but likely not kill some of their enemies, and that these survivors should return in a later context. My favourite bit of advice is not to let your player characters get to an important enemy to easily. Because we all know that if it is an important NPC, they will kill it. They suggest that , otherwise the game is quite a balanced, that you don’t need to work about an antagonist’s “challenge rating” or anything. If they players are winning conflicts too easily spend a little will power on your NPC. If they are finding the conflict too difficult, don’t spend the willpower.

Finally, the chapter finishes of with the stronghold events table. To be honest, this feels a little misplaced in this very first chapter, considering that it will take a while for the players to acquire a stronghold. But perhaps there was no-where else it could go.

Forbidden Lands – Backstories

I am going come right out and say this. I love creating Forbidden Lands characters randomly. Before moving on to read the GMs’ Guide, I am reading the first half of the Legends and Adventurers booklet. Only the first half mind you, I will return to read about random legends and monster creation after I have read about the pre-created ones in the GMs’ Guide. I will admit, this is another thing that I read in beta, quickly rolling some dice and creating a Druid a couple of months back. It went well enough, I thought to myself that I wouldn’t normally choose to play a Druid, but I could get into it.

This time though, I imagined myself as a group of five, sitting round a table creating their party. The rules here are very simple and clear, with a checklist at the front to explain the process. First “we” rolled our Kin. It’s a d66 table, with results weighted towards humans: eight results get you an Alderlander; five, an Aslene; three, an Ailander, so sixteen chances of being human. Compare that with three chances each to be a half-elf, halfling or orc; four of being a goblin, and just two to become a Wolfkin; Dwarf or Elf. So, though I feel I am going to be trying to persuade all my players to roll characters this way, I might relent when it comes to Kin. If your player is desperate to play a Wolfkin, then I wouldn’t make him roll on this table. I should say that many of the steps say “Roll or choose”, so giving players the choice is Rules As Written, I am VERY tempted no make them roll though… Am I evil?

However my imaginary party turned out to be quite diverse. Player one rolled 54, an Orc and player two got 65, and Elf! Players three and four two got 21, and 16, making them both Alderlander Humans. Then 56 got player five another Orc.

Next you write down you Kin talent, from the Players’ Handbook and then return to the Legends and Adventurers booklet to roll your background. This is one of the few roles where RAW says you don’t get a choice. There is a table for each Kin, and it’s short and sweet, requiring only a d6. Player one’s Orc turned out to be brought up as a minstrel. Only the tiniest double take from me, before I remembered thinking, aged 17 how the Pogues’ Wildcats of Kilkenny sounded like music Orcs would play. The Elf was a fighter. The first Alderlander was a Hard Studier, the other one a vagabond. The other Orc was brought up a Loner. Remember, as we will see, these are NOT predictors of profession. But they do give you your attributes (totalling 15 points) and six points of skills. Some upbringings are more rounded than others – the Minstrel Orc for example got just four skills, including rank three in performance.

Then, you roll (or choose (but roll dammit, ROLL!)) your profession, followed swift,y by your professional talent. Player one’s stagestruck Orc became a fighter, the fighting Elf became a rogue. They got the Path of the Blade and the Path of the Face talents, respectively. The studious Alderlander became a Hunter, with Path of the Forest (already you can see him or her being one of those nature obsessed kids, growing up to become a ranger). The vagabond became a minstrel, and I my head I saw both his player, and player one, scowling at each other and complaining that the system isn’t fair. It’s worth pointing at that at this stage, the Orc Fighter has perform rank three, and the Human Minstrel has no Perform at all. I am also imagining the Orc player scoffing that Humans have no sense of rhythm. The loner Orc becomes a Sorcerer in the Path of Stone.

Formative events come next, with a roll (not a choice) on a table for your profession. It’s a d6. The orc Fighter became a scout, the Elf joined a gang of robbers. The hunter tamed a horse, and his fellow Alderlander wrote a popular song. The orc Sorcerer, true to his loner roots sought out a secluded location to study magic. Each formative event gives you two points of skills, a talent and some equipment. So for example, that sorcerer, living off nature’s bounty, got a point in survival, and the Quartermaster talent, a tent and cauldron and one rank in the Lore skill. The human minstrel got one point in performance, a point in manipulation and the lucky talent. Also ink, quill and a parchment – which, the orc fighter insists, is just as well, because it doesn’t make a noise.

And so the group, and the relationships, begin to form. I chose to stop there, with all the characters young. But if you want to become an adult you roll another formative event and drop one point from one of your attributes. If you want to start out old, you roll a third formative event, and drop another point from an attribute. When you have chosen how old you want to start, you can reassign one attribute point of your choice. I feel my orc fighter might take one of his Empathy, reducing it to two, to add to his strength, making it four. As an orc fighter, where Strength is a key attribute for both Kin and profession, some of this compatriots might have strength six, so four doesn’t make him massively strong.

Finally (almost) all one one player rolls on the How did you meet table. The orc fighter the Elf rogue, and the hunter all met on the run from the Rust Brothers. The two humans are bound by a shipwreck, and I imagine that together the players might suggest that it happened when they were very young, and though brought us as Alderlanders, they might share an unknown origin. That player rolls 14, suggesting he had been ambushed and saved by the Orc Sorcerer. But I imagine the two players agreeing that perhaps it was the Orc who was saved by the rest of the party.

God I love everything in this system. Do it. Don’t choose! Never choose!

Forbidden Lands – Gear (and Crits)

I won’t have much to say on this final chapter in the Players Handbook, because it’s very few sentences and many tables. I do like the very simple availability rule. If something is uncommon, you need to get a four or above on a d6 to find it for sale. If it’s rare, you need a six. I also like the fact that everything can be crafted, and that there is a simple system for doing so. Sometimes too simple – the fact that you need a forge to make arrows, when you could arguably purchase arrowheads, makes me cringe a little. But on balance I am in favour of simplicity. So the simple solution to more complex crafting is that you need to relevant talent to be able to make certain items. Or sometimes more than one talent. Our arrows require the smith and the bowyer talent. Gah! Why can’t there be an item called arrowheads that only a smith can make?!

There are wooden tipped arrows that you don’t need the smith skill to create. Armour counts double against them. But seriously, who since the bloomin’ Stone Age has used wood-tipped arrows?!

RIGHT! I am making my own house rule: arrows heads cost six copper and can be made with the Smith talent in a forge. You can make wood-tipped arrows with the bowyer talent, but if you have some arrowheads (six copper, remember, or made by a smith in a forge) and the bowyer talent, you can craft proper arrows, or you can buy ’em for twelve fucking copper!

/rant over

The other thing that slightly annoys me is the line “PRICE: The cost of an item can vary greatly from place to place.” Well, duh! But that’s it, there’s no indication how prices might fluctuate.

I am thinking with all these raw materials you will be sourcing, especially stone for your stronghold, you will need a cart. Let’s look that up. It costs fifteen silver, or with the builder talent, and 30 wood you can make one. Wood costs three copper a unit, so that’s 90 copper, or nine silver. So your labour will save you six silver. All you need is a cart to carry those 30 units of wood…

The gear chapter also includes all the critical hit tables. Or rather the gear chapter doesn’t end as such, but fades away into all the stables at the back of the book. I note with interest that a severed foot makes running a slow action permanently, but a severed ear only gives you a -1 to scouting for d6 days. A slashed eye doesn’t permanently blind you either. You are just -2 to scouting and marksmanship for 2d6 days.

The character sheet is pretty enough. There’s an index. And I am done with the Players’ Handbook. Next up – The Gamemasters’ Guide.

Forbidden Lands – Strongholds

You might argue that a game that is all about hex-crawling doesn’t need to include rules about building a base. But if you live long enough, you may end up in a similar situation to many players of first edition AD&D: lots of gold, and nothing to spend it on. In AD&D the gap between having too much gold to carry, and having enough to actually build a castle was pretty much impossible to bridge. The strongholds chapter offers an entry level opportunity to take over some adventure site you have cleared out, and gradually build it into an actual stronghold.

Even so, if still not cheap, and I won’t be encouraging players to take on the responsibility early in their careers. Otherwise they may look at the costs of keeping it properly defended, and decide to stay at home rather than go out adventuring. Actually taking over a place requires work, even if you have killed every creature that once called it home. It requires at least a couple of quarter days labour, and a Craft roll to clean it out. Failure on the craft roll will leave it with persistent problem that may make you decide it’s not worth trying to turn into a stronghold at all.

There are advantages to having a stronghold though. It’s a place where you can rest and sleep (surely just sleep?) without any rolls or mishaps. It also gives you a free will power point every time to return there for the night. Apparently these benefits can be got without even a Fireplace – but I think, for humans at least, a fireplace would be one of the essential features of a stronghold, arguably even more essential than a roof. Depending on the nature of the site that you have taken over, the GM will allow you one or two features for free. But any other functions you want will need to be (re)built, with your own labour (crafting rolls) or hired-in labour.

This is one chapter that I previously read in its beta version, and I had a good deal to say on it on Fria Ligan’s forum. Like many others, I thought there was too much dice-rolling, and indeed that has been much reduced in the version. Back then, the output of pretty much every function and hireling was variable, based on dice rolls. In this version, hirelings always succeed with just one success, and the output of most stronghold functions, if staffed with a hireling, is fixed. If a PC wants to roll on their own skills, then they still can. There is also a line in the chapter which I actually wrote, which is cool. No, I am kidding, but they do paraphrase an argument I made for a more abstract way of accounting for hirelings, to acknowledge that yes, most workers didn’t get paid in coin, but that’s how they are accounting for it in this game. And of course, I have to admit that part of the reason for having strongholds in this game is to have something to spend your money on. There is one suggestion I made which they did take up though – there is now the option to have a well in your stronghold.

Even with the simplifications, reading though the functions, I feel the rules are (uncomfortably?) bridging the gap between a neat little extension for a hex-crawl game, and a Sim City type game. Some functions produce raw materials for other functions, encouraging players to spend treasure (but also game time) expanding their stronghold and finding a sustainable mix of inputs and outputs.

I don’t think is my Gloranthan fantasies showing, but Pasture seems to be a no brainer function to add. Meat and vegetables supplied by other functions need to be turned into Food by someone with a chef skill or the Inn (if you build one) but the milk the cows produce counts as Food already! (There is no dairy function.) So you can add it to your Food resource die without faffing around and go off adventuring. I can only assume these cows produce not milk but cheese. 🙂 So, were I fortunate enough to build a stronghold, these are the functions I’d prioritise:

  • Fireplace: eliminates the effect of cold and darkness
  • Pasture (with farmer and cows): supplies up to 12 units of Food a day.
  • Shrine: an extra free willpower point for PCs
  • Stables: your horses are automatically sheltered and fed; and of course,
  • A well: drinking water enough for everyone, and fill up your water skins to d12 when you go adventuring.

Of course other people might want your stronghold, or at the very least, they might want to deprive you of it. So you might also want to bolster the defences. Ramparts, a moat, a portcullis and a watchtower can all help. But they are useless if your PCs are not there and you haven’t employed guards. After your first guard, hire guards in units of ten, because you always round up when calculating your defence value, so one guard is as good ten, and nine guards no better than one. Keep them well fed though, because hungry guards means one less defence die.

If the PCs are around they add one extra die, “regardless of number” it says on page 176. So five PCs only add the same to the defence as a single one. Although on page 177 is says “Each of your adventurers provides the stronghold with one point of Defense Rating.” So maybe five adventurers add five dice after all. Although the example (which generally features two characters says “The stronghold has RAMPARTS and 20 GUARDS, which gives a total Defense Rating of 5 (one for the adventurers, +2 for the RAMPARTS and +2 for the GUARDS).” So … I am a bit confused. Anyhow, you throw the same number of dice as your defence rating, and every success. Allows you to knock points off your opponent’s attack rating. There’s a chart to roll after every round to see what happens to one of the PCs. It’s only a d6 roll, so it might get a bit repetitive after a battle or two.

The chapter finishes with half a page about having armies with different attributes and skill ratings facing off against one another. I feel this is a place-holder for a battles expansion at some future point.

Forbidden Lands – Journeys

There was a moment of release, I think some time in 1980, when we were let out of the Dungeon. To be honest I can’t recall what system it was, it may have been Runequest, but it might just as well have been AD&D. I am sure the idea of open-world adventuring (the idea, not the name I just used) had already been introduced to us through Traveller, but to be honest I can’t even recall exactly when that was.

What I can recall was being presented with a map. Black and white, I think a Judges Guild publication that the GM had brought in, covered with a hex-grid, and absolutely chock full of potential. I remember clearly that moment of excitement, that we could go anywhere.

Of course, all that potential was unrealized. At thirteen (or whatever age we were) we hand-waved the encumbrance rules, and wandered around the map for a few sessions looking for a story, getting frustrated that we weren’t finding one, and wandering off to join a game of Traveller.

Reading the Journeys chapter it feels like the potential is there once more. The map is there. It’s in full colour this time, but still overplayed with a hex grid. Castles, villages, tombs etc are marked on the map, but mostly un-named. There will be stickers with the final version that enable your party to make it their own. It’s a quantum map, the adventurers will find an adventure wherever they chose to go, you just get to choose which adventure, when they get there.

This chapter systematises the journey, giving players a choice of actions in the wilderness. The most common thing they will do is hike. It takes a quarter day to cross a hex of difficult terrain, but open terrain hexes can be crossed at the rate of two a day, or even three on horseback. Hiking at night is difficult but not impossible, but it’s expected that your party moves for one or both the daylight quarters. But your journey will not be without incidents, some of which may delay you. Two of the party should take on different roles to minimise such problems. One should Lead The Way, becoming a pathfinder. Every time the party enters a previously unvisited hex, they must make a Survival Roll. If they fail, there is a d66 table of problems they encounter from inclement weather to blocked paths, wild creatures and simply getting lost.

These problems are not random encounters. There is a separate table of those in the GMs book, apparently. And to minimise the impact of those, the players should appoint a second character to Keep Watch. If the encounter is some sort of threat, the GM will ask that character to make a Scouting Roll to see how much warning the party gets.

The party can easily hike for two quarters a day. If they want to hike a third quarter everyone must make an endurance roll. Those who fail take a point of damage to agility and must let the others go on ahead, or persuade everyone to wait. Try and hike for four quarters and the endurance roll is at -2, and everyone gets the Sleepy condition. So the best thing to do is stop and make camp. Camping, fishing, hunting and foraging all require Survival rolls so it’s worth investing in that skill failure means a further roll on the mishap table for your activity. Mishaps vary from minor annoyances, the loss of items, rations and sleep to things that might cause injury. Food game med through foraging, hunting and fishing can be turned into preserved rations by a character with the Chef talent.

While all this activity so going on, it’s good to have someone resting, so that they can keep watch while the others sleep. It would also be good to have someone watching while everyone else of preparing camp or finding food and water. Note, there is a difference between Rest and Sleep. While both allow you to recover all your lost attribute points, you must sleep for one quarter every day, or start taking damage to Wits. So tight now, I don’t see why anyone would choose to Rest rather than sleep. Maybe the Rest activity is just there for when, though a camping mishap, you can’t get any sleep – thus you are rested ( you recover any lost attribute points) but Sleepy. Both rest and sleep need a whole quarter, if interrupted by “something dramatic, like combat” don’t count, you don’t recover your attribute points, and possibly end up sleepy too.

The chapter ends with a note on water travel, but sea or across/along rivers and lakes. But it doesn’t say much. For example it doesn’t say if it’s faster than walking. We do know that people with fishing equipment can fish while the boat is moving. The only time you can gather resources while on the move.

This s all feels simple enough to be fun, while making journeys an adventure. I feel that sense of potential once more.