Wednesday, July 17, 2024

The Great Carriage

This is the second of three Mammoth Masher vehicles. For continuity, see the previous two War Machine articles: the Command Chariot and the Vanguard Wagon. Hitched to the Vanguard Wagon, the Great Carriage is the tribal chief’s mobile dwelling, a step up from a palanquin. Overheads lie about 6’ above decks. A canvas canopy covers most of the upper deck.

Vehicle: 60-80 Hull Points (HP), AC 7, towed.

                1. Ground-level entrance to the lower deck stands on the forward starboard side, with a stepladder (A) that can be pulled up and secured in the upright position during travel. A lantern (D) provides some light in this otherwise dark area. The entryway connects with the chief’s meeting room through a door (B), and up a ladder (E) with the forward portside turret (M) on the upper deck.

                2. The meeting room features six barred embrasures (H) fitted with shutters swinging down from the overhead. Shutters can be secured in either position. A see-through wooden grate covers much of the meeting room’s ceiling. Locked from the inside, a trapdoor on the deck (G) enables a discreet exit beneath the wagon. Lockers (F) and a chest (J) provide stowage space.

                3. The chief’s bedchamber lies in the adjacent chamber. Its embrasures are identical to those in the previous room. The portside door (C) is locked. The forward bulkhead features a concealed peephole to spy on the meeting room. A concealed panel enables access to a crawlspace above the ceiling; to reach it, one can step on the chest (J) and place a foot on the aft embrasure (H).

                4. The last chamber holds the chief’s war hoard. A lantern provides some lighting in this otherwise dark space. The barred embrasure’s shutter (I) is nailed to the portside bulkhead in its down position. A secret panel in the aft bulkhead below the lantern provides a one-way exit. Though detectable from the outside, it can only be opened from the inside. The treasure’s value varies between 1,000 gp to 5,000 gp mostly in small change and some plundered jewelry.

                Upper Deck: Four turrets (M) stand on the upper deck, one at each corner. A trapdoor (L) leads down a ladder (E) to the lower deck’s entryway (1). A see-through wooden grate (N) in the upper deck’s planking lies above the lower deck’s meeting room (2). Although heavy, the grate can be hoisted open. A canvas canopy shades most of the upper deck. The white dotted line (O) shows its edges. Its sides can be rolled up and strapped in the upright position. The tribe’s standard (P) stands on the forward deck. Water, spare arrows, and other combat supplies are stored in containers (W, J). Four to eight sentinels usually guard the upper deck.

 

Movement: 120’ (40’); half speed on rough terrain; half speed if a mammoth is badly wounded or slain (see Vanguard Wagon). The wagon is 20’ wide at its wheelbase. The steel blades extend another 8’ on each side. Clearance underneath the wagon measures 2.5’. 

Combat: Anyone run over sustains damage from the moving wagon if caught under its wheels or from the blades extending from its axles (1d10+4 crushing damage per wheel and/or 1d8+2 slashing damage per blade). No hit rolls are required for the wagon itself, although PCs are permitted a saving throw for half damage.

 

Crew: 4-8 2HD archers, one 6-8HD tribal chief, and a possible 3-4 HD spellcasting consort; 8-12 young pups stay at the tribal camp.

 

Battle Rating: Add a +20 bonus to a unit’s BR if the Mammoth Masher’s crew and beasts of burden account for 10% or more of the unit’s HD. Add another 10 if there are two or more in the battle unit.

 

More in the next installment: The War Caboose

Monday, July 8, 2024

Mammoth Masher

The next installment for my War Machines series and the next step up from the Command Chariot is the Mammoth Masher, a multi-section vehicle pulled by two to four mammoths. Click here for the Command Chariot. The game stats are for D&D BECMI.

The Masher Mk I includes three large wagons hitched together aside from the beasts of burden. The Vanguard Wagon stands directly behind the mammoths. Its function is to protect the drivers and carry a squad of artillerists and combat troops. Attached to the Vanguard comes the Great Carriage housing supplies, an invading horde’s war chest, quarters for the chieftain, and the latter’s bodyguards. Towed in the last position, the Rearguard carries additional guards, the chieftain’s stable, and siege machines. Mashers Mk II and Mk III include extra wagons, larger siege weapons, and additional mammoth teams to pull them. These vehicles are built of wood, with four to six wheels each, arrow slits, and the tribe’s standard. Doors are reinforced and studded.

Vanguard Wagon Mk I 

Vehicle: 60-80 Hull Points (HP), AC 7. Drivers on the upper deck use chains connected to a capstan to guide the mammoths. The capstan’s axle connects with the front wheel beneath the wagon’s lower deck to help with steering. Retractable ramps enable access to the lower deck on its sides. These are heavily reinforced wooden panels fitted with sharp metal studs on the outside. Winches on the upper deck pull up the ramps to shut these entrances, drawbridge-style. Anyone in the 10’x10’ area underneath the ramps when they are dropped open suffers 1d6+2 damage. A trapdoor in the floor (usually locked from the inside) enables exiting beneath the wagon. Clearance underneath the wagon measures 2.5’. Overheads are about 6’ above the decks. A canvas canopy covers the upper deck.

Movement: 120’ (40’); half speed on rough terrain; half speed if a mammoth is badly wounded or slain. The wagon is 20’ wide at its wheelbase. The steel blades extend another 8’ on each side.

Combat:
The mammoths require hit rolls to attack anyone in their way (75% tusk or 25% trample attack). Anyone run over also sustains damage from the moving wagon if caught under its wheels or from the blades extending from its axles (1d10+4 crushing damage per wheel and/or 1d8+2 slashing damage per blade). No hit rolls are required for the wagon itself, although PCs are permitted a saving throw for half damage.

Armored Mammoths: AC2, HD 15 (L, about 15' tall), MV 120’ (40’), AT 2 tusks or 1 trample, D 2d6/2d5 tusks or 4d8 trample, Save F8, ML 8, Int 2, AL N, XP 1,650. The mammoths bear metal protections on their lower legs, heads, and foreheads. Studded leather covers their necks, flanks, and rumps. Wicked barbs adorn their tusks. Mk II and III contraptions include howdahs on the mammoths’ backs, each housing 2-3 warriors with projectile weapons.

Crew: Eighteen 2HD warriors (all with artillery skills) and two drivers (one 4HD Vanguard Master and a 3HD Subchief). If both drivers are disabled, the Mammoth Masher comes to a halt unless the mammoths panic.

Siege Weapons: Two ballistae facing sideways are located on the upper deck, behind the drivers’ casemate, and one light catapult facing forward sits on the wagon’s forecastle, above the casemate. The catapult shoots over the mammoths harnessed in the front of the wagon.
Ballista: AC 4, HP 9, Crew 4 (among the 18 warriors), Range 100/200/300 (min. n/a), D d10+6, RoF 1 per 2 rounds.
Catapult, Lt.: AC 4, HP 18, Crew 6 (among the 18 warriors), Range 200/250/300 (min. 150), D d8+8, RoF 1 per 5 rounds.

Battle Rating: Add a +20 bonus to a unit’s BR if the Mammoth Masher’s crew and beasts of burden account for 10% or more of the unit’s HD. Add another 10 if there are two or more in the battle unit.

I hope you'll pardon me for the doodles. Gotta kill downtime in some way, right?

More in the next installment: The Great Carriage.

Wednesday, June 26, 2024

War Machines!

I’m aiming at a tongue-in-cheek topic. It describes war machines that barbarian or humanoid cultures would line up in battles, from single-pilot bloodrunners to colossal battlebeasts carrying siege weapons and shock troops. The article is written for D&D BECMI. Game stats and guidelines to incorporate these devices into BECMI’s War Machine mechanics are included.

Art on Left: Goblin Wolf Chariot by Sam Flegal, ©2013 Games Workshop Ltd.

Command Chariot: Before the bloodrunners were bred and raised from pits of chaos, tribes of the wild relied on war chariots with archers, slingers, or light combat devices like scorpions or ballistae. More elaborate contraptions consisted of a two-wheel cart with large shields protecting its flanks, steel blades extending from its wheels’ hubs, and a scorpion to catapult iron darts. A small crew crowded the chariot’s platform, with a rider handling dire wolves or battle boars pulling the vehicle. Add a standard affixed to the chariot with gory pennons, horsehair, ornamental horns, a skull or two, and bits of leather or plate armor to protect the beasties in front. A tribal chieftain commands the chariot. One of the crew carries a hunting horn or some other sinister instrument to sound the chieftain’s orders to all within earshot.

Crew: one 5HD chieftain, one 2HD herald (50% chance it is a spellcasting shaman), two 2HD scorpion artillerists, one 3HD armored beast-rider in front (AC5 or better). Beasts of burden: two to three creatures with 3-4HD each. The lead artillerist receives a +2 hit bonus if a specialist.

Scorpion: D d6+4; half damage at medium or long range. Ranges: 100/250/400 yards; line-of-sight trajectory at short range, otherwise parabolic; no minimum range. Rates of Fire: 1 every 2 rounds if stationary, 1 every 3 if moving (using Basic D&D’s 10-second rounds, otherwise 3-4 bolts per minute). Ammunition complement: 12 iron darts.

Chariot: 30-40 Hull Points (HP), AC 7 (5 when moving). Speed: 90’ (30’) with boars or 120’ (40’) with dire wolves; half speed on rough terrain; half speed if part of the team is slain. No hit roll is required for chariot damage, although PCs can save vs. paralysis for half damage. The chariot is 6’ wide at its wheelbase. The steel blades extend another 2’ on each side.

Figures caught within the chariot’s width suffer trampling damage (2d6 blunt damage). Those caught by the steel blades incur 1d6+2 slashing damage (doubled when charging). Roll percentiles when playing a tabletop grid with 10’ spaces. With scores of 01-60, figures in the chariot’s path suffer trample damage. With scores of 61-00, the remainder incurs instead damage from the blades. With a 5’ grid, the chariot affects three spaces. Figures in the middle space incur trample damage. In the other two spaces, percentiles’ scores should be 01-10 trample, 11-60 miss, and 61-00 blades. In all cases, scores of 01-02 result in a broken axle*; scores of 98-00 break off one of the wheel blades* (*) After damage is inflicted on foes.

Battle Rating: Add a +10 bonus to a unit’s BR if the command chariot’s crew and beasts of burden account for 10% or more of the unit's HD. The command chariot’s total HD runs from 20 to 26. Add another +10 bonus to the unit’s BR so long as its commander remains alive and within sight.




















More in the next article.


Tuesday, January 30, 2024

Skyship Battle

I was exceedingly elated when I discovered a blog article Xaoseed wrote in 2021 about the game mechanics I posted back around that time. I didn't spot it until yesterday. He (she, they) playtested them and found that they worked as I'd intended. So, thanks awfully for that! I wanted mechanics enabling fairly detailed movement rules involving the speed and direction of winds while merging ship battles with traditional OSR player-character and monster combat. So: mission accomplished. With Xaoseed's permission, I'm reposting his article here, for the record!

21 August 2021

Actual Test: Calidar (Fantasy Space Combat Rules)

tl;dr: fantasy flying ship combat where the wind direction matters - surprisingly easy to pick up, lots of fun and some great old school damage tables detail that makes ship combat more than just slugging away at hull points.

After testing two magazine-published sets of rules for fighting magical flying ships - the 3e adaptation Shadow of the Spider Moon and the 5e Aces High aerial combat rules from Arcadia #3 published by MCDM as well as the original AD&D Spelljammer we come to the thing that kicked all this off - Calidar.

The Calidar supplements come from Bruce Heard, creator of the magnificent Voyages of the Princess Ark, one of the original D&D Flying Ships (*the* original?), as a vehicle for him to continue with flying fantasy ships as Princess Ark is no longer continuing. I grabbed the Calidar books because I love me my flying ships and also pulled down the skyship combat rules from his blog. Initially, the ruleset looks scary as hell but I cobbled together a word doc and sat in the pub and red-penned it until I figured out how it worked then took it to the table.

Mimicking the 'big vs fast' set up of previous fights I set up the feature ship of the setting - the Star Phoenix - against a fast ship, the Lucky Deuce. We put down a hex grid and ran the same altitude and edge-of-board escape conditions for the 'heavy' as before. The first really interesting thing about the Calidar system is that ship speed is wind-driven - the sails matter - and first thing to do is dice up the wind. We got a strong wind, just short of a damaging gale, blowing straight down the board. One of the hardest pieces of the system for me to grok initially was the points of sail until I finally got that the wind directions were split more finely than hexes have sides and suddenly it all made sense.

The second interesting thing is that initiative is diced per round for combat actions but movement is done in order of speed - and big ships can put on more sail and go faster. We were surprised to find that the Star Phoenix was faster than the Lucky Deuce (though harder to turn). We set off, everyone out of range to start then after movement where both gained altitude, the first long distance fire was exchanged. The Deuce landed shots to the hull and the Phoenix fired back and swept away almost a quarter of the Deuce's crew. Here another interesting system point came up where each hit led to a roll on a table to see what was hit - masts, crew, weapons or the hull. This was a very interesting aspect of the system, making it harder to knock out an enemy ship but inflicting lots of other pain on them.

Round 2 - we diced to see if the wind changed - as there was no DM we adapted the system by rolling 2d8 to get under the count of turns since the last shift in wind. The wind stayed stable for now. The Deuce fired, scored another hull hit and both ships soared onwards, with the Deuce using its superior maneuverability to stay out of the Phoenix's broadside fire arcs.

Round 3 - we diced and there was a chance for wind to change but testing for change in strength and change in direction led individually to nothing - a flutter but no actual change. The Deuce took advantage of their positioning to fire again, landing a ballista bolt and managing to knock out the starboard forward ballista on the Phoenix. Then both ships moved: the Phoenix diving and the Deuce keeping pace and lurking ahead of it.

Round 4 - a pattern was setting in with the Deuce peppering the Phoenix bows with mid range fire. The port forward ballista was knocked out this round, then after both had moved two shots threatened the Phoenix masts but failed to cause telling damage.

Round 5 - another round of fire and the Deuce knocks the Phoenix below 70% of hull points, worsening their maneuverability a grade and causing it to sink an altitude level per round - now they have to advance 2 hexes before they can turn one face, leaving the Deuce weaving circles within the Phoenix turning arc as it tried to bring its broadside weapons to bear. The chance to climb out of the gravity well and escape into the Great Vault was also closed, only one path to escape remaining - the board edge.

Round 6 - the Deuce fires and knocks out a starboard aft mast on the Phoenix.

Round 7 & 8 - the wind changes, slowing, and the dance continues at lower speed. The Deuce throws ballista and scorpion bolts at the Phoenix, shaving off hull points down to 50% of its original total.

Round 9 - the Phoenix captain finally figures out their tactics and races away across the grid before turning slightly at the end and leaving their broadside arc facing down the line the Deuce needs to approach (or if the Deuce turns wholly away it would allow the Phoenix to flee). Alas the damage to the Phoenix ballistae is telling and only the aft set remains to fire as the Deuce stays out of range of the Phoenix broadside catapults. Too close, and the Deuce weaves out of arc, too far and the catapults are out of range - the captain of the Phoenix is growing increasingly nervous about surviving.

Round 10 - the Deuce sails up and misses most of their scorpion shots while the Phoenix fires back with their lone ballista and flees for the board edge. The Deuce follows, allowing their own ballista to get to optimal range before firing and landing decisive hull hits. The Phoenix is looking shaky but is only one turn from the board edge.

Round 11 - knowing this is their last chance to stop the Phoenix, the Deuce fires everything, no matter the range and misses entirely. Heartened by this last spot of luck, the Phoenix flees off the board edge, with a shattered mast and two destroyed ballista.
A Hammership and Wasp paper mini standing in for the Star Phoenix and Lucky Deuce respectively

Overall the system was a lot easier to use than it appeared from the heft of the assembled rules. The points of wind took a little getting used to but once that was done, the challenge of turn limitations due to maneuverability class, fire arcs of the ships and the potential to shed or gain movement points as ships adjusted heading was a great fun part of it that really made the Calidar rules feel distinctly different to the 'powered flight' of the other systems tested.


The ships feel complex but not too complicated - initially I thought the 'roll on the damage table' for every hit to be preposterously fiddly but it quickly became easy to handle. The consequences of exceeding damage thresholds in certain categories was potentially very interesting - a lucky first shot by the Phoenix killed 8 out of 39 crew. Another similar strike to the crew would have been guaranteed at minimum to knock it below 3/4 of the crew, making all shots 10% harder to hit and that would have made life much easier for the Phoenix. On the other hand the Phoenix has nine masts and happily risked strikes to those as it would have taken at least 3 lost to impact maneuverability and each of those strikes was damage diverted away from the hull.

Another very interesting aspect of the system that I liked a lot was the 40 second round - if heroes had been present, acting individually, they could have gotten in 4 actions per ship combat round. This is also reflected in the relatively high rate of fire of the weapon systems - twice a round in most cases. Chucking fistfuls of dice about - however justified by the system - is a lot more fun than examples such as original Spelljammer with 1 in 3 rounds or 1 in 4 rounds firing rates.

The crews did not get to play a great part in this fight but could have. The boarding mechanics are very interesting with a compare ratios then roll table. I used it to stage out a guards raid on a safe-house in my home game and it is a nice neat system for that. We checked what might have happened had the Phoenix gotten to grips with the Deuce - the boarding party from the Phoenix would have been repulsed at a high cost to the Deuce, which would have left the Phoenix free to either sail off happy that they would be unlikely to hit them as they left or board again with even more chance at success.

Some really nice pieces of this system are:
1. How wind and facing matters along with relative speed and altitude change.
2. The 4-to-1 hero-to-ship action tempo is a nice way to keep the pace of ship activity high while also allowing heroes to make a real difference.
3. This was ship-on-ship but there is a large roster of monsters and clearly a lot of thought gone into integrating monsters as ship opponents. Taking a big dragon up against a ship could be a lot of fun.


If you read through all the posts as presented on the blog it is not easy to make sense of the system but assembled together and read through together (as in its intended published form) it makes a lot more sense. There is guidance on how to calibrate it to the system of your choice with multiple proposed approaches suggested from percentile to adapting d20.

My only complaint is that as the system is currently posted in parts, it is missing the editors run through of elaborating on terms the first time we run into them - it took me a while to find SR meant Structure rating, what windward meant and so on. There are some good worked examples in among the text to help it all make sense. I think the combat round sequence should be right up the front to help frame why all the individual pieces of the rules are important and where they come into play.

Certainly I would be happy to grab this when it eventually gets released. It has some real old-school flavour in the look up tables but I was surprised how universal a rule set it turned out to be. You just need to select the correct damage scale and then decide whether you want to use percentile or d20 to hit and off you go.

Tuesday, August 22, 2023

Legacies of Ill-Gotten Loot

"Treasure House" by Jaynorn Lin on Art Station.
As far as I can tell, collecting dungeon loot without paying any attention whatsoever to whom it actually belonged has been the bread and butter of your basic adventurers ever since OSR games existed. Some might argue that a tacit D&D salvaging rule waives consequences for acquiring unidentified loot. Previous owners, however, may beg to differ if they knew. Just for laughs, I concocted a few situations to spring upon unsuspecting adventurers to illustrate my point.

Points of Origin

How “loot” is acquired affects the odds of possible disputes in the future.

1. Bequests & Rewards: This concerns equipment received from one’s family as gifts or inheritances. Rewards obtained from grateful benefactors also belong in this category. This form of loot is the less troublesome unless your DM is particularly chaotic or harbors ulterior motives.

2. Lawful Purchases: The next best category includes items bought from reputable sellers. A legitimate business usually has reasonable knowledge about the origins of merchandise it proffers (also subject to a DM’s perfidy).

3. Questionable Purchases: Purveyors sans scruples, those shifty businesses tucked away in shadowy city quarters and others selling presumably good equipment at cut prices, present a greater risk since they aren’t picky about the origins of their merchandise.

4. Plunder: The worst category holds anything obtained by guile or force of arms. Dungeoneering, raiding the camps of foes, emptying graves, robbing bootie from folks who themselves must have pillaged, burglarized, or ransacked others with reckless abandon pose the greatest risk to unsuspecting and (more-or-less-) law-abiding heroes. Checking the pockets of fallen companions or their victims probably falls into this category as well.

If the question of ownership isn’t obvious, roll 1d4 to find what category an item belongs to.

Consequences

Subsequent troubles can take 1d4 weeks after the previous adventure to manifest themselves, usually as the result of rumors going around, witnesses passing information, magical divination tracking down missing treasure, or perhaps merchants attempting to resell goods purchased from PCs attracting the attention of previous owners. Select either the most valuable item a party “liberated” (at least 400gp-worth). If coins or gems are involved, assume they have been marked physically or magically to identify them.


Looting Consequences (roll d00)

Modifiers

Source of the Loot

Nature of the Loot

Bequests & Rewards

–15

Coins and gems worth 700-1,000gp

–5

Lawful Purchase

n/a

Single item worth 400-700gp

+10

Questionable Purchases

+15

Single item worth 701-1,000gp

+15

Plunder

+20

Single or combined loot above 1,000gp

+20

Up to 30

No consequences other than personal notoriety and tavern rumors.

31-45

A local taxman has gotten wind of the party’s windfall and now seeks to collect a share of the profits from the loot. The assessor will first try to find out what else the party collected recently, and impose taxes accordingly. At the very least, the demanded monies are based on the part of the loot that triggered the check. His armed escort resort to force if the PCs refuse to comply.

46-60

If the loot or part of it is ever pawned off, a previous owner running across a reseller identifies the goods. He has them seized and accuses the party of stealing the goods from him. If the PCs are captured, they need to address their case in court and reimburse the resellers to whom they had sold the loot.

61-75

If the loot, or part of it, is ever pawned off, a miscreant running across a reseller identifies the goods (he’d failed to steal them from their legitimate owner whom he later murdered). He has them unlawfully seized and falsely accuses the party of stealing from him. If captured, the PCs need to fight their case in court and, if they lose, reimburse resellers to whom they had sold the loot.

76-90

The original owner of the loot (from whom it was robbed) now stalks the party to steal it back and, if possible, kill the present holder(s). The creature’s nature depends on the party’s average experience level: 1-3. Fourth-Level Thief, 4-6. Doppelganger, 7-10. Mujina, 11-15. Level 12-14 Avenger/Anti-paladin, 16+ Dragon in disguise.

91-105

If other than coins or gems, the item posses a hidden recess holding a small piece of parchment. It lists an unusual spell whose owner has been seeking ever since the item was stolen. The owner, a magic-user of a reasonable level offers to purchase the item for its fair market value (without mentioning its hidden contents), or will attempt to take it by force.

116-120

The object had originally been stolen from a powerful noble. His son or daughter was also abducted during the theft. The aristocrat offers the party to find the captive in exchange for them keeping the wayward loot. If they refuse, he accuses them of committing the crime and turns loose the city militia against the party.

121-125

The item, although not an evil one, possesses a strong link to the astral plane. It beckons the undead, some of which strive to possess it for themselves. The undead depend on the party’s experience level: 1-3. A Pack of ghouls, 4-6. Mummy, 7-10. Spectre, 11-15. Vampire or nosferatu, 16+ Lich and its minions.

126-130

The loot is identified as having come from another world. It lies near a hidden portal to its native world, or it must have been left there by someone who’d crossed over. The portal must be shut or dispelled to prevent demonic incursions.

131-135

The loot is part of an artifact. Although this item does not radiate an enchantment, the full dweomer will manifest itself when all the parts as assembled. Divination magic should indicate it is meant to be part of something else. Attempting to resell the loot should attract the attention of someone (or something) seeking to rebuild the artifact.

136+

The loot was a temple’s gift to an immortal patron or to a deity. A high priest/priestess sends his/her minions to retrieve it. If they fail, he/she intervenes personally. If he/she fails, a handful divine servants follow until the goods are retrieved. If they already sold off the goods, the PCs are tasked with recovering them and handing them over.

 


You get the idea.

Wednesday, July 26, 2023

Languages of Mystara

Scribe by Ji-Tie on Deviantart

A random discussion on Facebook led me to revisit the languages of Mystara and try to make some sense of its verbal kaleidoscope. I apologize in advance for running roughshod over material already generated (including possibly my own, given how long ago I might have written it). I did peruse and use as a guide much of what I found on Pandius. So, here’s my take today!

            Using the old-style D&D BECMI (basic/expert) game mechanics, PCs and NPCs can learn foreign languages. These come in addition to what is usually called a “common” language and alignment languages (if these are used at all). The latter doesn’t make much sense to me, especially when using an established game world. In the latter situation, a common language is the language spoken in the PC/NPC’s hometown. I’ll use Mystara since it’s one of the worlds I know best. In Karameikos, the realm PCs use most often as their starting point, Thyatian common is the lingua franca. The ethnic language of Karameikos is old Traladaran, which isn’t necessarily spoken by everyone living there, especially in major cities like Specularum (Mirros).

 

Fluency

            Rolling up a random foreign language does not specify how good one is at speaking or reading it. Use the following metric for the spoken form: roll 5d20—up to 20 Elementary (like a tourist), 21-70 Conversational (an immigrant or a visiting sailor), 81-100 Professional (a merchant or an ambassador), 101+ Native (only with an appropriate character background, a mother or father is a native for example). Multiply the Intelligence adjustment x10 as a modifier (see Rules Cyclopedia pp. 9).

            Skill Levels: Elementary enables “tourist-level” fluency (like asking where the bathroom is) with a strong foreign accent. Native command allows one to speak with ease and without a foreign accent, use local slang or patois with a certain flair, and imitate regional accents reasonably well (like a native of the US Midwest imitating someone from Kentucky, New York City, Australia, etc.).

            Reading/Writing: How easily a language can be read or written (if at all) depends on its writing system. If the alphabet is familiar, then words can easily be read. Understanding the written form still depends on the reader’s adjusted fluency score described above. If the alphabet is exotic, like oriental symbols or ancient Egyptian hieroglyphs, reading is much harder for a foreigner. Someone with elementary fluency cannot read or write the language at all. If conversational, the odds of doing so correctly are equal to the adjusted fluency score that was originally rolled, probably with mistranslations, or grammatical and spelling mistakes. If professional or better, one can read and write without difficulty.

 

Dialects

            Real-World Analogies: These are local versions of a root language, usually spoken in a region or sometimes in just a single town and its neighborhood. Here’s a real-world example: the local patois spoken in my hometown is called Nissart, which sounds partly French. I’ve had some exposure to the dialect (in grammar school), but I don’t understand all of it despite being a native French speaker. Someone who isn’t a local might get a very rough grasp, but this isn’t guaranteed. On the other hand, I can make out 10% at best of French creole vs. well above 90% of Québécois. Another example: Cockney is an English dialect associated with the working class in London’s East End district. Appalachian English is a dialect associated with hillbillies and North America’s Smoky Mountains.

            The Fantasy Side: As regards Karameikos, one might detect varying dialects in Threshold and Rugalov compared with what folks in Specularum (Mirros) and Marilenev sound like. Threshold patois may reflect a Darokinian influence, while Rugalovian may actually be a Kerendan patois with old Traladaran influences.

            It might also be plausible that goblin, hobgoblin, ogrish, and others are all dialects related to mainstream orcish. My assumption is that many humanoid races originated from north-central Brun, and their languages derived from a common source more than 1,000 years ago, most likely Beastmen of Mystara’s prehistory. Orcs are the most extensive humanoid race in Brun. A great migration saw humanoids crossing the Izondian Strait into Davania. Others slowly spread to more distant horizons by way of great rafts over the seas or through tunnels and underground realms, spreading their idioms along.

            Deciphering Dialects: When using up a language skill slot, use the root language’s adjusted fluency score for its related dialect. Otherwise, halve the PC/NPC’s adjusted fluency score. Feel free to adjust these odds depending on how different a dialect really is from its root language. For example, the difference between Nissart and mainstream French is significant (words, pronunciation, grammar, and syntax may differ), while the shift from mainstream American to Appalachian English seems less so, although pronunciation and familiar expressions can be a challenge for British English speakers and visiting foreigners merely fluent in English. Further reduce the adjusted fluency score when listening to some old geezer with an attitude, who’s mouthing off in his beard a million miles an hour and makes zero effort to be understood. Expats among you know what I mean.

 

Related Languages

            Real-World Analogies: Distinct languages may be related without being considered dialects. Real-world examples are Romance languages, which include Italian, French, Spanish, Portuguese, and Romanian. Those are all derived from Late Latin. Mastering one gives a small chance of making out a few words spoken or written in the other four, maybe 10% if that. Someone who studied Latin can make out perhaps 20%. Northern Germanic languages (Swedish, Norwegian, Danish, Icelandic, and Faroese) are related and fairly intelligible between them, as opposed to Southern Germanic languages (English, Dutch, German, etc.) which are more different from each other. On the west side of things are Celtic languages (essentially Irish, Welsh, Scottish Gaelic, and Breton). Elsewhere in the Real World, the Semitic group includes Hebrew, Maltese, ancient Phoenician, Aramaic, and Arabic with its many dialects ranging from Morocco to Iraq, 3,000 miles away. Likewise, the Sino-Tibetan group comprises Tibetan, Burmese, and Chinese languages like Mandarin, Cantonese, and their dialects. The list goes on.

            The Fantasy Side: Thieves have a great advantage here with their Read Languages class ability, which covers any vernacular in the universe past or present. Right. That’s official game mechanics for ya! DMs with lots of time on their hands can piece together their game world’s language trees, using Real-World analogies as a rough guide. Root languages may not necessarily still be spoken, but can probably be studied. In order to understand possible connections between distinct languages in the first place and with subsequent dialects, language trees need to be established.

 

Language Trees

            To track down how languages propagated through Mystara and which ones are root languages vs. dialects, you can use this timeline and these thoughts about Mystaran languages. In a world the size of Mystara, this can be a major project (perhaps a topic for the folks at the Threshold Magazine to revisit—hint, hint).

            Using Real-World language groups as templates for Mystara is tricky business since pseudo-historical cultures litter this fantasy setting like confetti at a European carnival. The linguistic cacophony reflects the way the original Known World was put together back in the late 70s or early 80s: colorful but hardly realistic. I certainly have my share of guilt here with the Principalities of Glantri, not to mention my developments of the Savage Baronies and the Savage Coast in Dragon Magazine. Establishing Mystara’s language trees will demand a major suspension of disbelief and broad assumptions departing from Real-World models. It’s definitely fantasy.

 

Nithian: One of the oldest Mystaran languages, Nithian is an ancient Egyptian analog. It can be the basis for a pseudo-Semitic language group including Ylari/Alasiyan and ThothianHutaakans speak a Nithian dialect. I do not see a good connection between Nithian and antic Traladaran, which is pseudo-Greek. Traladarans once were under Nithian control, but I’d make their language entirely separate, spoken as a way to resist Nithian hegemony, and retained when they broke away. I’ll hold my nose and also extend Mystara’s proto-Nithian language group to include an analog “Indo-Turkic” offshoot to cover Sindhi, Jaibuli, and HuleanCough.

 

Neathar: This is Mystara’s Indo-European analog, the prehistorical source of many of the Known World languages. This includes at least two distinct branches: Antalian (a Germanic/Nordic analog) and Traladaran (a Greco-Latin analog). Pseudo-Gaelic and pseudo-Slavic offshoots are also rooted here.

            I had to conflate Greek and Latin likenesses to define old Traladaran because of the way Karameikan town names sound. Traladarans spread to Davania, establishing the great Milenian Empire there (ostensibly a pseudo-Greek culture). Adjacent to it dwelled archaic Thyatian jungle tribes, probably client states of the looming empire. They adopted a Milenian patois except for one retaining their ancestral Antalian dialect. They migrated north to the Known World and grew into the Thyatian Empire there (a Byzantine analog). As with KarameikosThyatian place names sound either Greek-like or Latin-like. Hattians of southern Thyatis, however, sound more German-like. Kerendans speak a dialect of Thyatian common. The latter has diverged significantly from Traladaran still spoken in Karameikos, given the 1,000+ years of evolution separating them, nearly precluding mutual intelligibility. Nonetheless, Thyatian common is now the Known World’s lingua franca.

            It can be imagined that most other languages of the Known World derive from Antalian or Traladaran. One notable exception: Darokinian is a construct cobbled together from Traladaran, Antalian, elvish, dwarvish, Ylari, and ancient Nithian, which morphed into a distinct and coherent trade language. It would therefore be logical to assume the language of the Five Shires is a Darokinian dialect heavily influenced by Thyatian common. Both would be prevalent there. Didn’t I say “confetti?”

            Glantri is a patchwork of cultures with their own ethnic dialects. One is altogether alien: New Averoigne. Erewan and Belcadiz are elvish dialects, the latter with a strong Traladaran influence. Caurenzan derives from old TraladaranKlantyrish and Boldavian are distant proto-Antalian relatives, while Bergdhoven combines Antalian and Alphatian. Aalbanese is more clearly Antalian, while Blackhill adopted Alphatian common. Krondaharan is an odd mix of Nithian and Ethengarian. If there were a Glantrian lingua franca, it would be an inner parlance used solely by the wizardly elite, aside from Thyatian common and Alphatian common. Streamers and confetti!

            To complete the Known World linguistic overview, Ethengarian (a Mongolian analog) isn’t related to any language group. It could link its source to the empire of the Great Khan on the continent of Skothar. If that’s true, then there’s probably a story posted somewhere justifying how the Ethengarians came to live in the Known World. Real-World Mongolian may have a distant link with Turkic, but none at all with Chinese. Mystara doesn’t have the equivalent of a big pseudo-Chinese empire anyway or an analog for a Sino-Tibetan language group. This makes Ochalean another unresolved hiccup, possibly a language of off-world origins, like MyoshimanHeldannish and Norwoldan are essentially Antalian, although Hattian superseded the original Heldann dialect. Yay, party hats!

 

Oltec/Azcan: This language group spread from the continent of Skothar’s central plains. Suspending disbelief, one may imagine proto-Oltec/Azcan to evolve into three distinct branches: 1. Jennite, which would be a Mongolian analog (the Great Khan Empire in Skothar), 2. Oceanian would roughly emulate Real-World Austronesian (Pacific Islanders) including Ierendi’s Makai as well as Nuar, the Pearl Islander colony of Alphatia (and anything like Real-World Malay, Indonesian, or Filipino Tagalog), and 3. Neo-Oltec/Azcan, an Amerindian analog, such as the Atruaghin Clans’ dialects.

 

Tanagoro: The language group emerged from Tang, Skothar’s southern peninsula. It can be found in the Serpent Peninsula, the realm of Yavdlom and UlimwenguYav is heavily influenced by Sheyallia elvish, however. Tanagoro dialects can be heard as far away as Cestia, Eastern Davania, and Vulcania. Curiously, they did not appear to have spread to western Davania.

 

Elvish and Dwarvish: Each own ancient roots unrelated to the previous four language groups. It stands to reason that, over time, neighboring cultures influenced the elvish and dwarvish dialects. A good example of this is Belcadizan elvish and its Traladaran or Thyatian influence. Elvish has also become the root for certain humanoid cultures, such as actaeons, centaurs, forest-dwelling fairy folk, dryads, skyborne faeries, etc. Gruugakh gnolls also speak a distant elvish dialect. Due to their locations, Minroth and Vyalia dialects are elvish with Thyatian influence. Meanwhile, gnomish is a subset of dwarvish with elvish influence. Here are some references to elves’ and dwarves’ backgrounds in Mystara.

 

Orcish: As I developed earlier in this article, proto-orcish emerges as a language group for many humanoids. At present the root language for all related dialects is centered in north-central Brun. They grow farther apart depending on the races but also the geographic distance between “ground zero” and their tribes’ locations. From the point of view of an orc, the closest dialects are, respectively: 1. Goblin, 2. Hobgoblin, 3. Mainstream Gnollish, 4. Kara-Kara, 5.Bugbear, 6. Ogrish, 7. Giantkind (especially hill giant), and 8. Trollish. Other types of giants generally speak Antalian, although some have adopted the local population’s language.

 

Reptilian: Two separate groups may coexist, depending on game world preference. Proto-draconic is the ancestral language of early dragons. Dragons speak closely related dialects based on their colors, with good mutual intelligibility. Proto-tortlish is either a subset of draconic or a distinct language group.

            It might be judicious to establish proto-tortlish as the reptilian group’s root language. Other reptilian languages like those of troglodytes, lizard men, chameleon men, cay-men, gatormen may therefore be distantly related to neo-tortlish (see Related Languages, earlier), each spawning its own dialects. Kobold speak, however, may be a draconic patois heavily influenced by orcish.

 

Marine Languages: One group involves human-like merrows. These are folk who took to the seas eons earlier and established marine cultures. Their languages are likely distantly related to the closest surface cultures and adapted to an aquatic setting. Another group concerns the sea elves whose languages reflect migration patterns of surface elves. Tritons are native to the Elemental Plane of Water, so their language is essentially alien (see next entry). The Kna communicate in Ichthyan, an indigenous language related to fish. Devilfish, also known as Ixitxachitl, once spoke a language related to the Kna, but it grew deeply corrupted to become analogous to Darkspeak, the lingua malefica per excellentiam uttered by certain races of darkness such as the Velya among others.

 

Alien Origins: Alphatian is the elephant in the room. Its once-vast empire encompassed the Alphatian mainland, parts of the Isle of Dawn, OchaleaBellissaria, and various neighboring islands. Jennite likely influenced Bellissarian dialects, while Antalian-colored dialects were more prevalent on Alphatia’s west coast and Qeodhar.

            Another alien language, dubbed Laterran, emerged in Glantri’s New Averoigne. Curiously, Laterran shows similarities with old Traladaran, perhaps subjects of parallel evolutions. Laterran also emerged in faraway Renardie’s lupin population. This humanoid culture possesses an ancestral idiom featuring growls, barks, whimpers, howls ranging from faint groans to full-throated calls, sniffs, snorts, lip smacking, facial expressions, and body language such as ear movement, tail wagging, head cocking, teeth baring, raised hackles, etc. Unfortunately, it possesses no written form (so far). In nearby Bellayne, a rakasta kingdom, one speaks a mix of Antalian and LaterranBellaynish also includes an ancestral language, somewhat similar to pre-Renardois.

            Emerond is another off-world language centered in northeastern Davania. It does not relate to any other in Mystara, nor did it spawn dialects. Emerondians have not migrated from where they originally made landfall so far as I know.

 

Foreign Language Types

            Foreign languages on which a human fighter might spend skill slots should differ greatly from choices available to garden-variety elves, dwarves, druids, and magic-users, let alone denizens of faraway Bellayne or Renardie. This required identifying different types of languages that can be referred to by a single letter code (A to N), depending on their nature and how remote they may be from the PC/NPC’s hometown. The following list reflects a Karameikan point of view.

 

Foreign Language Types

Human or

Demi-Human

A.   Commonly spoken within 100 miles from hometown or in an adjacent realm. Example: if PC/NPC is Karameikan, this includes local old Traladaran dialects, Five Shires patois, Darokinian, Alfheim elvish, Makai, and Minrothad elvish if different from Alfheim.

B.   Commonly spoken beyond adjacent realms or more than 100 miles away. Example: for Karameikan nationals, this includes Rockhome dwarvish, any one of Glantri’s multiple languages, EthengarianYlariSoderfjordan Antalian, Thothian, Alphatian common, Ochalean, Pearl Islander, Sind, TanagoroHuleanIspanVerdan, etc.

Humanoid

C.   Spoken within 100 miles from hometown, such as kobold, goblin, orcish, ogrish, gnollish, bugbear, giantkind, etc. This category also includes Hutaakans, faerie folk, hags, etc.

D.  Spoken more than 100 miles away (else, as above).

Off-World

Languages

E.   Spoken by humans, demi-humans, or humanoids connected by trade or warfare with the PC/NPC’s realm. Example: Myoshiman.

F.   Any off-world language other than Type E.

Normal Animals

except for lowlife and

non-intelligent wildlife

G.  Language understood by animals living within 100 miles from hometown. Seafaring folk may pick up marine-related languages (dolphin, shark, whale, sea turtle, seal, marine avian, etc.). Landlubbers favor languages of land wildlife (wolves, bears, eagles, etc.)

H.  Language understood by animals living more than 100 miles away (else, as above).

Monsters

With 2+ Int.

I.    Spoken within 100 miles from hometown (incl. giant animals and some constructs like gargoyles).

J.    Spoken by monsters living more than 100 miles away.

Outer Planar

K.   Spoken by human-like people or humanoids.

L.   Spoken by any other creature with Intelligence 2+ such as aerial servants, archons, basilisk, cockatrice, djinn, demons, divine servants, elementals, etc.

Lost Languages

M.  Languages no longer spoken that may be found in ancient scriptures or engraved in ruins, such as ancient Nithian and many languages now only spoken in the Hollow World. This includes monstrous but not outer-planar or quasi-magical languages.

Forbidden Languages

N.  These are quasi-magical languages such as Darkspeak understood by all undead (intelligent or not) and certain races dwelling underground or in a marine abyss. Cursed languages that turn readers insane, or those who merely hear it spoken, fit in this category as well. The language of devilfish could belong here.

 

Language Choices

            When a neophyte character is first created, skill slots can be assigned to languages. The table below shows what types of languages are available to different character classes or races. Some allocations are made to accommodate the AD&D game and B/X-BECMI mechanics. When rolling for a foreign language type, pick one row that best describes a PC or an NPC: either its character class, its race, or its profession. Then roll percentiles. The Races category concerns anything other than human. For example, pick the Fighter row for a human paladin; on the other hand, an AD&D elven fighter can pick either the Fighter or the Elven row (the B/X-BECMI official elf class must pick the Elf row).

            Due to space limitation, the whole percentile ranges aren’t listed in the following table—just the highest values. For example: on a d% roll, the barbarian class can pick up an A-type foreign language with a 01-50 score, a C-type with 51-80, a G-type with 81-95, or an I-type with 96-00. Roll separately for each skill slot spent on foreign languages (check their fluency scores separately as well).


Random Language Types

Categories

H/DH

Humanoid

Off-World

Animal

Monster

Planar

LL

FL

Classes

A

B

C

D

E

F

G

H

I

J

K

L

M

N

Barbarian

50

 

80

 

 

 

95

 

00

 

 

 

 

 

Bard

30

60

80

 

90

 

 

 

 

 

95

98

00

 

Cleric

30

55

 

 

75

 

 

 

 

 

85

90

95

00

Druid

25

35

 

 

 

 

75

00

 

 

 

 

 

 

Fighter

30

55

70

80

90

 

 

 

95

 

00

 

 

 

Magic-User

30

55

 

 

60

65

 

 

70

80

85

90

95

00

Monk/Mystic

40

60

 

 

80

 

85

 

90

 

95

 

00

 

Paladin

40

65

 

 

80

 

 

 

 

 

90

95

 

00

Ranger

30

50

60

70

 

 

80

90

95

00

 

 

 

 

Thief

35

55

65

70

75

 

 

 

80

 

 

 

00

 

Races

A

B

C

D

E

F

G

H

I

J

K

L

M

N

Dragonborn

30

50

 

 

55

60

 

 

80

90

95

00

 

 

Drow

25

45

60

65

 

 

 

 

 

 

70

75

80

00

Dwarf

30

55

65

75

 

 

 

 

85

 

 

 

00

 

Elf

30

55

65

 

75

 

85

 

90

 

95

 

00

 

Gnome

30

55

65

 

75

 

95

 

 

 

00

 

 

 

Half-Elf

50

75

85

 

90

 

 

 

95

 

00

 

 

 

Halfling

45

70

80

 

90

 

00

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Half-Orc

20

30

70

80

 

 

 

 

90

00

 

 

 

 

Lupin

50

75

 

 

85

 

90

 

95

 

00

 

 

 

Rakasta

30

50

70

 

85

 

 

 

95

 

00

 

 

 

Tiefling

30

55

 

 

70

 

 

 

 

 

80

90

 

00

Tortle

45

70

 

 

 

 

 

 

80

 

 

 

00

 

NPCs

A

B

C

D

E

F

G

H

I

J

K

L

M

N

Ambassador

40

65

 

 

85

95

 

 

 

 

00

 

 

 

Beastmaster

20

30

40

 

 

 

55

65

85

95

00

 

 

 

Merchant

35

65

 

 

85

00

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Missionary

35

60

75

 

85

90

 

 

 

 

95

 

 

00

Navigator

45

75

 

 

85

90

95

 

00

 

 

 

 

 

Pirate

30

50

65

75

85

 

 

 

95

00

 

 

 

 

Sage

20

30

36

42

48

54

60

66

72

78

84

90

96

00

That’s it for now. Happy blabbering!

By the way, I also hate Google Blogger for all its formatting cr*p and incoherent behavior.