So me and the grill-fiend went and saw Dunkirk the day before yesterday. I can’t say it didn’t deserve its good reviews, because it probably did. And the aeroplane combat scenes were just great. In fact, so great, they made me want to write a system for flying planes in your RPG system. Or mostly air combat. With fighter planes.
If possible, I’d like to solve many different things with one fix. Something like having damage dice also be weapon durability and initiative would be good (though not necessarily exactly that combo!).
Anyways, I did some math (or lots, maybe). Basically, I calculated what the average damage of different damage modifiers were, against no to full armor (damage reduction), to make sure that regular weapons in the same category were decently equal.
If you wonder why I’m so harsh with this equal damage thing, it is because I want to remove the notion of an overall “best” or “most damaging” weapon, and make it all situational.
Here’s some table for generating owlbears, among other terrible hybrid animals. Why settle for just owlbears when you can have shark-horses, rhino-turtles, and spider-snake-lion-swans? So here are a few tables for the creations of mad wizards.
Another part in making animals weird.
Serpents are simple creatures. They eat, and then they sleep. Only, they really don’t want to sleep, so they eat constantly. Differently from their lizard cousins, they can literally eat until they burst. They cope best in areas of relative scarcity, where they can’t eat too much, but have enough to grow quickly. Like every creature of the so-called creatures of cold blood (snakes, frogs, lizards, turtles), they can grow indefinitely and won’t ever die of old age. Their reckless gluttony is mainly what gets them killed.
It’s not thick (barely past 60 pages) but stuffed full of things.
- It isn’t a traditional adventure in the way of “here’s a villain and a town and a quest go do it”, but more like a toolkit for building a sprawling, crazy city.
- Several random tables; “I loot the body”, buildings, aristocrats, and many more.
- There’s interesting, usable, and inspiring (and weird) locations.
- A bunch of rules on city adventures and other bits of rules to stick in your game.
- The weirdness that is Vornheim itself, with its religion, architecture and so on.
Thus far, I’m enjoying it, and I can see it being useful at the table.
Here’s a monster for ye olde D&D.
It looks like a man who was first gene-spliced with a hairless gorilla and then fed steroids his whole life, in doses high enough to kill elephants. It’s basically a still living muscle-golem. The head is painfully shrunken, lacking almost any features except for round, -shark-like eyes, and a wide mouth filled with teeth like gravestones.
Lamp oil is made from the oil of a certain plant, a small orange-tinted ball that grows in the shadow of large trees.
At first seemingly innocuous, the so-called Firebrand Flower shows its true colors during hot summers. At first, the pores on the round, cactoid body of the plant opens, allowing the oil to evaporate. This clear liquid clings heavily to all the plant life around, at first dehydrating them, and then self-igniting in the heat of the sun.
When a colony of the plants are together, a great forest fire generally ensues. And afterwards, the second form of the Firebrand grows in the ashes, the flower itself. It has large jagged orange leaves, which mildly relieves hunger if chewed.
The use in harvesting the bulbs before they can combust is twofold. The prevention of fires is important to both the lord of the lands, and its residents, for wealth and life respectively. And the oil is useful, if dangerous. It’s easily ignited, and burns brightly and hotly. It’s often used by adventurers for use both as a light source and as a weapon.
(Trying to justifying the D&D-ism of lamp oil somehow being napalm)