The Undead: Cursed, Restless, and Enchanted

The term "Undead" refers to those who have died, but by some means continue their presence (either their body, spirit, or both) in the world. The Undead fall into three main categories: Cursed, Restless, and Enchanted.

In the Fields We Know, Cursed Undead include Vampires, Ghouls, and Gibbelins. Each of these feast upon the living, and in some cases may pass their curse on to those they kill. Curses typically come from the gods themselves for grave affronts against Nature. On rare occasions, Fey or even mortals may place curses upon the living denying them a peaceful death.

While Restless Undead usually manifest as Ghosts capable of weak poltergeist activity, powerful motivations such as revenge or obsession can turn the spirit into a Wight or
Wraith or result in the the actual corpse emerging from the grave as a Revenant.

Enchanted Undead are created  though blasphemous magic, either using the body of the dead as a vessel to house a summoned spirit such as in the case of a zombie, or in the case of some Golems, trapping the soul of a once living person in a constructed form of clay, metal, or stone.

A holy symbol presented forcefully will keep Undead at bay but the area of effect is limited. The wielder can be flanked on either side or from behind and attacked.

Burning holy incense (derived from resins or herbs) will create an area of effect with a 15 foot radius (area of effect can be enlarged by burning multiple sources) but a breeze can disperse the smoke, creating vulnerability in the direction of the source of the wind.

Protection from Evil will in itself NOT prevent Undead from attacking by touch, but they will attack with a -2 penalty. The protection will also prevent the passing of the Undead curse in the event of death. A physical circle of protection, such as a drawing, engraving, or scattering of blessed powders (such as salt or acorn flour) will typically prevent the Undead from passing. Research or luck may be required to find an effective means.

Most Undead are immune to mundane attacks. Either weapons will pass through their incorporeal form, or they will simply ignore any harm done to their once mortal body, as they no longer depend on oxygen, blood flow, or their sensory organs. Silver, Iron, or Magical weapons may be needed to harm them, or striking a particular body part such as decapitation or a stake through the heart.

Antoine Wiertz

Lord Dunsany's Gibbelins as a TTRPG monster

"The Gibbelins eat, as is well known, nothing less good than man. Their evil tower is joined to Terra Cognita, to the lands we know, by a bridge. Their hoard is beyond reason; avarice has no use for it; they have a separate cellar for emeralds and a separate cellar for sapphires; they have filled a hole with gold and dig it up when they need it. And the only use that is known for their ridiculous wealth is to attract to their larder a continual supply of food. In times of famine they have even been known to scatter rubies abroad, a little trail of them to some city of Man, and sure enough their larders would soon be full again."

• No. Appearing: 4-6, 10-100, 10,000+
• Armor Class: 10
• Move: 30/60
• HD: 1
• % in lair: 100%
• Attacks: 1d6 (short sword)
• Special Attacks: Save vs. Wisdom at -5 or be compelled to approach treasure
• Special Defenses: +1, silver, or iron weapon to hit
• Intelligence: High
• Alignment: Evil
• Size: M

Gibbelins are Cursed Undead, forever bound to the treasure they lusted for in life. They use their treasure to instill this lust in others, and lure them to their lairs. Those killed by Gibbelins become Gibbelins themselves.

Gibbelins are immaterial except for their gemstone eyes, their teeth of sharpened gold and silver, and their jewel laden swords. When they are reduced to zero hit points, these items - worth a total of 100 gp in value - drop to the ground, and the Gibbelin re-manifests in its lair 24 hours later. 

Gibbelin lairs consist of three types: Area, Complex, and Fortress

An Area can be a room inside a dungeon, a small cave, mausoleum, etc... Gibbelins may make a lair of any place where adventurers travel, tempting them with easy treasure. The Gibbelins will lie in wait to attack when the treasure is approached, gaining +1 to their surprise roll. 4-6 Gibbelins will be found in an Area.

A Complex can be a cave or other structure with multiple rooms, paths, etc... Gibbelins will leave tempting trails of treasure to lure passersby into these lairs, attacking with overwhelming force those foolish enough to enter. 

A Fortress is a legendary location in a far remote region, such as the edge of the world. At least 10,000 Gibbelins will be found in a Fortress. A number so vast, it may as well be limitless. No one has ever been known to successfully enter a Gibbelin Fortress and escape with their lives. This has never stopped mortals from trying. Gibbelins will make sure from generation to generation that rumors of their Fortress reach mortal ears in The Fields We Know.

While the typical Gibbelin was once an average mortal, when those of excessive greed become Gibbelins, they can become much more fearsome than their fellow undead, clad in suits of jeweled armor, and wielding far greater powers.

Sidney H. Sime

On Entering Elfland from The Fields We Know

How does one find the Twilight Border between Elfland and The Fields We Know? Is it a static, reliable landmark? Or is it something more nebulous? Something that could remain elusive even after a lifetime of questing? Or is it sheer accident?

Folklore and stories provide many options. In Lord Dunsany's The King of Elfland's Daughter, it is a permanent landmark, some 20 miles from a castle in England. 

Stepping into a fairy ring is one of the most common folkloric methods. Typically a combination of a chance encounter and an act of carelessness, stepping into a circle of mushrooms could immediately transport you to the Realm of Faerie.  

One can be lured there by a resident of Faerie

"Come away, O human child!

To the waters and the wild

With a faery, hand in hand,

For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand."

-W.B Yeats

Arthurian myth features a magical horn:

"That bids the charmëd sleep of ages fly,

Rolls the long sound through Eildon’s caverns vast,

While each dark warrior rouses at the blast,

His horn, his falchion, grasps with mighty hand,

And peals proud Arthur’s march from Fairyland.”

- Sir John Rhys

In the context of your TTRPG, requiring a physical object can be a great excuse to send your party on a mini quest. I've leaned into the legend of The Voyage of Bran, which features a silver branch with white apple blossoms, from the realm of Emain Ablach.

A branch of the apple tree from Emain

I bring, like those one knows;

Twigs of white silver are on it,

Crystal brows with blossoms.

Taking a cue from Outlander, I have made circles of standing stones or columns the geographic location for the portals to Elfland. There are always seven of these in a circle, one for each of the gods in my pantheon. On their current adventure, my party has learned that they need a token from Elfland in order to use the circle as a portal. They have learned of the location of a silver apple branch, and are off to find it. I'll be running them through Necrotic Gnomes "Winter's Daughter" to find the branch.

Edward Robert Hughes

Crones and Witches and Hags, Oh MY!

Crone, Witch, Hag.

These three words are often thought as synonyms, mired in misogyny. Yet their folkloric roots are quite different, and the words have drastically different meanings.

The Crone is an aspect of the Three-Faced Goddess: maid, mother, and crone. As the Maid she is youthful and virginous. She is the goddess of new beginnings and unlimited possibility. As Mother she is nurturing, and represents fertility and the continuing of the life cycle - not only of humans but the earth itself. As Crone she is wisdom and experience. Knowledge to be passed on to the next generation. Crone is a term of reverence we could do well to re-establish as such.

Witch is a perilous term, used by real men in real places in real time to justify horrific acts of inhumanity. First used as as a derogative in the year 890 in the Laws of Alfred,  the Witch was further maligned by a 15th century German monk who, through an almost mathematical approach, theorized that everything in Christianity ordained by god had an evil opposite ordained by Satan. If the Church had priests, there must be Satanic priestesses. If God bestows miraculous power upon saints, Satan must grant his chosen ones powers. If clergy make vows to the church, witches must make vows to Satan. Then he set out to prove his theory, using torture as his instrument. Thankfully, feminism has reclaimed the word as their own.

Hags have a folkloric history of being supernatural beings that typically feast on human flesh. Peg Powler and Jenny Greenteeth are examples of folkloric Hags.

In my campaign world, I consider Witches to be the female counterpart to Warlocks. Specifically, spell casters who derive their power via pacts with supernatural patrons. As a DM, I love the Warlock class, as it has allowed me to create a minor pantheon of sorts of patrons who have become recurring popular NPCs in my world. The three I have used so far are Old Nick (based on folklore about the Devil), The Lady of the Lake, and Circe. I've made Old Nick and Circe somewhat rivals, as their interests sometimes conflict with one another.

Art by Wright  Barker

My players encountered a Hag in a swamp adventure, and negotiated their way out of that encounter. I'll have to figure out a way to bring her  back into the storyline.

Brief hiatus

I have not abandoned you dear readers. I began writing a post a week ago on Witches, Crones, and Hags but haven't had a chance to get back to it.

Hoping to have some time in the mornings to write once things settle down a little bit. 

Designing Encounters for the OSR: The Myth of the "Balanced" Encounter

 I have habit of saying that in Dungeons and Dragons 5e, a balanced encounter is one in which the monsters are defeated before anyone in the party dies. In the OSR space, a balanced encounter is one in which the monsters are defeated before everyone in the party dies.

That is, in OSR a fight between a 1st level fighter and an orc is a pretty even match. Put up 5 first level fighters against 5 orcs, and it is a coin toss who the last man standing will be. If you want to manipulate the odds so that there is a high probability that all the orcs will be killed before any of the fighters, (say, five fighters against one orc and the fighters somehow gain initiative) you haven't created a balanced encounter but rather one in which the fighters will mop the floor with the orcs.

For those who like math, is fairly easy to calculate what kind of ratio you need to balance an encounter. First it is the average damage done by each combatant on a successful hit (a d6 weapon does 3.5 points damage per round for this purpose. D8 does 4.5. D10 does 5.5, and d4 does 2.5). You would add any damage modifiers to this, such as a magical weapon or strength ability modifier for.

This damage is multiplied by the % chance to hit. Say a 1st level fighter needs a 16 to hit AC 17, that is a 25% chance to hit. (The fighter hits on a 16, 17, 18, 19, or 20, or 5 out of 20 odds. 5 is 1/4 of 20, or 25%). So multiply the fighter's 4.5 points damage per round by 20% and you get .9 points damage per round. Do this for each combatant to get the average total party damage per round, then do the same for the opponents. Compare total hit points of each side and you'll get an idea of how many rounds it will take for one side to eliminate the other.

The question is, is this a useful way to design an encounter? Do you want to create a likely TPK every time your players get in a fight? Is there any reason to actually create a "balanced" encounter? If the likely hood of killing most of the party members is high, you might as well throw overwhelming force at them and not worry about balance. If you want them to have a fun tough fight, then you just need to total up the levels of each side and make sure that the party's total levels are double or triple the total levels of the monsters.

Much more important than worrying about creating "balanced" encounters is designing encounters in such a way that players have the ability to size up the difficulty of a potential fight so they know whether to engage or to find another approach. (Run away, diplomacy, stealth, surprise, etc...). Some of this the experienced player will know intuitively. If they are a party of five 1st level characters, and they are facing a party of 20 1st level monsters, the odds are not in their favor. But if we want to take meta-gaming out of it, there can be other signals as to encounter difficulty.

A monster with trophies outside its lair of the opponents they defeated is one example. This could be shields with coats of arms, bodies or parts of bodies (heads or skulls for instance), or weapons (for the arrogant monster daring any challengers to take up arms against it). It could be a display of power (casting a spell, a breath weapon, crushing a stone easily, firing a powerful warning shot, etc... It could also be information gathered or revealed via rumor, eye witnesses, journals, or other records.

This is where folklore and myth come into play. It is also a potential for the party to discover a key element of the monster's weakness. They may know about vampires and werewolves, but only Bilbo Baggins knew about Smaug's weak spot on his underside. This information was overheard by a thrush, who flew to Laketown and revealed it to Bard the Bowman so he knew that only the Black Arrow would aim true enough to hit the one vulnerable spot.

And here is the crux of encounter design. Information trumps power. Van Helsing (the book character, not the movie version) does not defeat Dracula because he is more powerful than him. He defeats Dracula because he understand both the vampire's power and weakness. There is no "balanced" fight between the two of them. At night Van Helsing wouldn't stand a chance. But during the day Dracula's only strength is in secrecy and faithful henchmen.

Edward Gorey

Giants in Folklore and Myth

There are as many types of Giants as there are cultures from which they spring. In myth they often contend with with the gods, or are involved in the very act of creation itself. I myself have always had a fondness for more grounded Giants as depicted in Irish, Welsh, and Cornish folklore. These Giants have petty rivalries with another, are often bested by mortals, and on occasion marry them! They may have two or even three heads, and their size can vary greatly.

Perhaps the best known Giant from folklore is the the one from Jack in the Beanstalk. The Jack character also appears in Jack the Giant Killer, in which he defeats a number of Giants and joins King Arthur's court. The story of The Brave Little Tailor also features a Giant, and contains a theme close to the story of Finn McCool who outsmarts a much bigger Giant with the help of his wife using similar methods.

To rein things in and categorize Giants, I tied in to the overall elemental scheme of my world. Taking my cue from D&D, I interpreted Fire, Frost, Stone, and Cloud types as elemental Giants of Fire, Water, Earth, and Air. Into this mix I added my element of Time.

Next comes grouping by size. Hill Giants in D&D are the smallest of Giants, averaging 8 feet tall. This fits in with the idea featured in many stories of Giants having human wives, being a similar proportion as a 6 foot husband with a 4'-6" wife. Of course, there no reason the Giant shouldn't be the wife, and the human the husband. Intentionally subverting traditional story tropes can be a creative way to break out of gendered assumptions that are an inescapable part of adapting historical cultural stories to a modern game.

While we can make 8 feet the minimum height to qualify as a Giant, there is no theoretical upper limit. Atlas, after all, holds the entire world on his shoulders. However, a "proper" Giant from folklore should be able to easily carry livestock. 20 feet seems a reasonable size for such an ability.

Arthur Rackham

If we make 8 feet a "small" Giant and 20 feet an "average" Giant (a scale increase of 250%), we can call the next size up "large", and with another 250% increase in scale, set it at 50 feet tall. Then we can jump to 100 feet for an "immense" Giant. This is about on scale for the enormous Giant in Castle Amber. 

So now we have four scales of Giant: Small (8 ft), Average (20 ft), Large (50 ft), and Immense (100 ft). Each of these have five types, aligned to each of the five elements for 20 distinct Giant categories.

Inspired by The Steading of the Hill Giant Chief, as well as the mead-hall in Beowulf and the House of the Red Branch from the Ulster Cycle, I've made my Hill Giants clannish, ruled over by lords or chieftans. These Giants are on a whole, open if skeptical to human interaction, keeping to themselves in the lower mountain ranges. Any human daring enough to visit a Hill Giant steading is sure to face challenges of strength, skill, endurance, and wit before being respected by the clan. The Giants are much more likely to judge such a visitor on their willingness to take on such challenges than their ability to overcome them. Inspired by the Trials of Thor, In many cases these challenges will be unfair to the point of impossible, providing much entertainment for the Giants as the guests try to accomplish them.

Next up are the average Giants, which covers most of the Giants in AD&D (Fire, Frost, Stone, and Cloud), ranging from 18 to 24 feet. These Giants can range from lone individuals to those living in more structured groups like the Hill Giants. In general the larger the Giant, the more remote they will live from human settlements.

Large Giants would almost always be unique and solitary. Perhaps they have smaller Giants or humans as servants. Encounters with such Giants would be very rare. Perhaps legendary.

Finally we have the immense Giants of 100 feet in height or more. When thinking of these as elemental types, it seems these would be not too dis-similar to the idea of Djinn or Efreet. Once Giants become unique, ascribing magical powers to them becomes an interesting consideration.