This is Ghostly Aging

OK, the commercial is about how scary the King Kong ride is, but it is indeed the best depiction of what ghostly aging looks like. You're very young thief character goes from having his life in front of him to being ready for the old adventurer's home (hell) in seconds flat.

Players are more afraid of losing levels from undead, but you gotta admit that in it's own way, ghostly aging takes away a lot of your life. Almost all of it in this poor kid's case.

Who says a wrestler can’t play Conan?

I like to toss that out there in comments on posts about the upcoming Conan dud. The reply I usually get is that wrestlers are hoarse-voiced morons who can do stunts but not act. OK, often they concede that The Rock can act, but I don’t think he’d be a good Conan. Way to ethnic for a character off Celtic roots. But is there anybody else in the WWE roster that could make the grade?

Well, to a degree gruff would be the way to go. I know fans of the books like to make it out like Conan spoke like some refined Rhodes Scholar in a high society tea room, but I don’t think that was the case. It doesn’t really matter how he came off in the text, we are talking about people who supposedly lived over 10,000 years ago.

Everyone after Ah-Nuld who played Conan, or any other barbarian for that matter, comes off sounding like an American Indian. Just enough of an inflection to give it that old world brute sound. In all honesty, I don’t think there is any getting away from that. C’mon, admit it, when you run barbarians in games you do that American Indian voice. You can do variations on it, but if you are going to be speaking in English there isn’t much else you can do. You are going to sound, one way or another, a lot like Daniel Lewis’ Hawkeye in Last of the Mohicans at best. “Stay alive, that’s all I ask. I will find you.”

So who are my wrestler picks to play the big bounding barbarian? Let me first say that although I enjoy watching wrestling from time to time, and have a “Smart Mark” understanding of the ins and outs of the industry (I’ve read a couple of biographies of folks in that business), I’m not a fanatic. I know a couple of dudes who are, and they always know way more than me about what is going on in the weekly shows than I. But yeah, I guess I am a fan.

Randy Orton: son of old school wrestler “Cowboy Bob.” Randy has a lot of lean muscle, and is still in his 20’s. He has a steely stare, and can look both mirthful and melancholic when called for. A year or so ago he could barely cut a “promo” (you know, when wrestlers talk to the camera and say stuff like “I’m going to rule the world!”). Wrestlers typically don’t get acting or speaking coaches. They buff out rough edges in their speaking by doing promo after promo, for years. Randy Orton has gotten a lot better, and I’m sure he could pull it off verbally. Plus he just has a killer look for a younger Conan.

Triple H: my choice for an older, “King Conan” era Cimmerian. Triple H rose to fame in the infamous “Attitude Era” of the late 90’s, when wrestling was less for the kids and more salacious and violent. Eventually, he married Owner Vince McMahon’s daughter Stephanie in real life, and is the heir apparent to the WWE Empire. He can speak well (although, yeah, a little gruff), and has the big muscle body and long hair perfect for the barbarian wearing a heavy crown.
Hell, if you are going to go with a dude best known for his role on Baywatch Hawaii, then you can only make it better casting Randy and Triple H as Conan.

As an aside, I want to say that despite having been a RE Howard fan as a kid, I still loved the Ah-Nuld Conan. Fanboys say there was not much Howard in it, but I disagree. The tone, the ethnic make-up of the populace, the primitive yet still fabulous cities, and even Conan’s little archer sidekick struck a chord with me. Walking around Zamora, munching Black Lotus and punching out camels. Whining and wenching, and scooping up handfuls of gems. How is this not Conan? I loved it, and think it still holds up as a great movie.

Economics of the Dungeon Age

In a land where multiple dungeons exist (Arduin had dozens), the ultimate financial impact had to be felt by the economies of the kingdoms to some degree.

First, there is the village, and especially the tavern, that are in the dungeon vicinity. Even if a party of adventuring Elmer Fudds only come stay every few weeks, some serious coin is getting dropped even before the dungeon crawl. There is always that supply mercantile with all your dungeoneering needs, from spikes to ropes to ten foot poles. Soup to nuts. And of course a good DM will have his merchants charging big markup. We are practically in the wilderness, you know. An especially well traveled dungeon’s village will perhaps even have a magic supply shop (run by a high level mage, of course) where the parties “Wiggle Fingers” can replenish components and scroll supplies. And that store ain’t cheap.

The local tavern may just fare the best from deep pocketed delvers. The locals know dungeon crawlers when they see them. Word gets around town and in minutes locals are pouring in to see what the fuss is about. Adventurer’s new to the area will know that locals are the best source of info about the dungeon and it’s rumors and legends. Liberal spending, even upwards of 100 gold for endless rounds of ale and meat pies, will not only loosen some tongues, but also guarantee good will from the tavern owner. And that tavern owner knows more rumors and legends than most.

So a party goes to deeper levels, and when they are done the survivors will set out for the bigger towns and cities loaded with wealth. They’ll spend that money in the city, or perhaps higher level PC’s will go off to build housing for their retainers and followers. And if you are playing 1st ed. by the book, then there will be trainers and mentors all over the place profiting from the characters hard fought cash. Magic users will spend much dungeon money, from guild fees to research materials. Clerics will enrich temple coffers (and hopefully the temple leaders will see fit to invest in the local infrastructure) of their favored god. Fighter, thieves, and bards will debouche their money away into the economy in a thousand ways.

The affect of dungeon money upon the economy may depend on your campaign world. Perhaps, as was suggested in a comment in my last post, the Dungeon Age is a time of failing civilization, where these dangerous places are a decaying product of the withering world. In a case like this, an influx of wealth may fall flat in a barter economy, or it may overwhelm the delicate system that still finds worth in coin and gem in small settlements.

In my own game world, I think of the Dungeon Age as a time of great civilized growth. Treasure from dungeon delves flowed eventually to town and city economies, and added to the advancement you find in new, successful civilizations.
In time, The Age of Dungeons mostly passes, these secluded mythic places drying up or falling into ruin. The magic that kept them going begins to unweave and float away into the ether. Mountain and forest towns in the howling wilderlands, once booming from dungeon gold, slowly shrink and eventually fall to ruin and abandonment.

On comes an age of high adventure, when greed and lust gives way to heroics. There are still secluded dungeons like those of the bygone age, full of magic and treasure. But they are now few and far between. Occasionally the greedy seekers of loot hunt down these fabled places, just like the delvers of the past age. But the norm for a hero of this bright new age is not to delve for gold and silver, but to fight in great battles, and to go on great quests, perhaps travelling to faraway lands. More so than in The Dungeon Age, able bodied adventurers set out to evil places not for merely wealth, but to destroy that very evil, or other noble cause.

But do not step into those dark corners of the world lightly, even in this luminous new age. Though the Dungeon Age has passed, there are still dungeons hidden away. Some are still vibrant with hostile intent to those who invade them. But they are there. And they are waiting for the greedy to seek them out.

Embracing my inner Elmer Fuddist

I recently posted about my views on old school “Elmer Fudd” D&D. You know, poor stated dillhole characters and meanie, sadistic dungeon masters. OK, I wasn’t really ranting or anything. But that kind of pre-1st ed. retro OD&D play just seemed like it was caveman stuff as a gamer, and wasn’t something I really wanted to revisit in any major way. My D&D had long since gone from low fantasy to high fantasy (although as far as reading fiction I still preferred Lankhmar and Cimmeria over Middle Earth). Characters in my ongoing game world became more like champions hanging tough in the face of dangers and horrors, rather than the pathetic, bumbling Fudd’s they were when I started with the little brown books as a kid.

Sometime last fall I had signed up to do an OD&D session, the “White Box” plus Greyhawk, at a monthly game day thing. I don’t really know why I did, but maybe I just wanted to see who would show up for that at an event that more current Pathfinder type games were going on. And hell, I usually practically phone-in my 1st edition games for my ongoing group, so why not try a session of something really easy? Anyway, those plans fell through due to other obligations, and who knows if anybody would have shown interest anyway.

Well, some Southern California dudes in the online gamer community have been putting on a small yearly game day gathering in Anaheim that they are calling “Minicon,” and I threw my hat in the ring to do some OD&D next month. Why not my beloved 1st ed? Well, maybe mostly because I have house ruled the hell out of my AD&D, and I just have a fear of seasoned gamers not being down with my changes for one reason or another. These would be guys who know the game by the book much better than me, and I find that intimidating. I haven’t exactly made a lifelong study of the DM’s Guide or anything. Hell, I probably started most of my house rules long ago because I was too lazy to look some things up.

Anyhoo, my player list for that evening session in August filled up almost right away, so there is no real turning back now. But never fear, despite the irritating lack of any real cohesive combat/movement rules in the White box and Greyhawk, everything else about it is so easy peasy, so I can focus on making the dungeon crawl interesting. I’ll get three times as much actual gaming in with OD&D compared to a typical 1st edition session where so much character crap comes into it, some nights you barely get a combat in. More often than not I try to run it like some weird, greek psycho-drama.

I’m really starting to look forward to a barebones, truly old school session just to see how it turns out.

And I may even get a practice session in. Last night while waiting on Andy’s patio who was running a bit late, I talked to Paul and Terry about the White Box and Greyhaw that I happened to have on me at the time, and spoke on the differences between it and 1st ed. They didn’t know much about those brown books (Terry had some youthful experience with one of the basic box sets from the 80’s, and Paul is pretty new to tabletop altogether), and seemed enchanted by the idea of taking simple, hubris-free characters right into a dungeon grind with little set-up and fanfare. So, with a couple players possibly missing the next couple of weeks, next session may just have to be a quick dungeon delve using the notes I’ve prepared so far for the session next month.

And I’m going to approach it in a Fuddist fashion. OK, I’m not huge on deathtraps (and exploding cigars). That’s for Edgar Allen Poe stories and episodes of the old cheesy Batman TV series. But I’m going to make the characters be rolled with 3d6 in order (mostly), and I’m going to take an “odds are against them” attitude with the other stuff in the dungeon. I’m going to have a humiliating surprise or two in store at the lower levels. Who knows, maybe after decades of coddling the character who enter my world like precious little children, I’ll teach myself a lesson and become a jerk DM again like all of us old schoolers started out. As you may have gathered from some of my previous posts about my ongoing AD&D, I obviously need to give my players a serious bitch-smack. This may be the venue to get back on that road. “Be vewy vewy quite, I’m hunting pwayer characters. - hnn heh heh heh heh heh.”