9 Truths of Neurim

Consider this a reboot of the Neurim Primer.

1. The Sun Never Sets

The sun is always in the sky, and the land is ever bathed in its white light and warmth. The sun is dim, and Neurim's moons are visible in the sky (like the sun, the white moon Corhael and the red moon Mara take permanent residences in the sky, while the gene moon Astla orbits once every day and is how people on Neurim track time). The sun only sets if you travel far, and when it sets the land becomes dark and cold.

2. Bocathia Was Great

The Bocathian Empire was the greatest in this or any age, an immense magi-tech powered nation that spanned the globe. They succumbed to Plague, withered and rotted away in their own decadence, and their ruins litter the land.

3. The Zetterites Have Their Hands in Everything

For 600 years, the Zetterite Empire have spread their laws and church over all of the sunlit surface of Neurim, spreading far past the point their logistics allow. Every nation on Neurim either submits to the Empire, or has made long standing agreements for peace. The Zetterites have kidnapped hundreds of gods, and most have no opportunity to worship except in Zetterite built listening rooms.

4. The Zetterite Empire is on the Verge of Collapse

The Empire is beset on all sides. The orctide in the South, the Tahls in the North, the backstabbing Nastrans to the East, the heretic Svoggites in the West. Several decades of war have made the empire weak, and it can no longer afford to assert control over much of its territory.

5. Magic is Dying, Alchemy is Surpassing it

True magic died with Bocathia, and what we have now is a weak facsimile. Technology progresses further and further every day, and it's only a matter of time before an alchemist discovers the secrets to efficient engine making.

6. The Second Little War Ravaged the Land

When Balisarius rose from the dead for the second time, he resumed his war against the Empire. This war ravaged much of the Imperial heartland, which has yet to recover a decade later. 

7. The Plague is on the Wind Again

Everyone can tell. Folks come to the High Capitol with a cough in their lungs looking for a cure, but the Plague is no mere unbalancing of the humors. Entire towns on the borderlands wither away, and soon the Plague will reach its tendrils deep into the Empire proper.

8. Folks are Different Nowadays

When Bocathia fell, folks started being born different. Signs, they called them, afflictions of the human form. They can change, as one ages. They modify appearance, and can grant powers. The stout and rock-wise stone signed were first. Then were the red-haired and attuned to magic fair signed. 

9. Bad Things Live in the Dark

Where there is no sunlight, terrible things lurk and dwell, twisted monstrosities rise up from the shadows. Everbright lanterns mark roads through dense forests and valley paths wreathed in eternal shadows, managed by brave lamplighters.

Haustoriamancy (For Cairn)

 Magic (the stuff you're thinking of) is a long dead art, practiced only through ancient scrolls and dying magitech. In this age we have haustoriamancy, or if you are of a less educated sort, enchanting.

Enchanters do not make magic items, no +1 swords or rings of protection. No, they bring magical to the mundane to let the mundane perform the impossible. Only in the hands of an enchanter is a torch a bomb, or a rope a binding coil, or a wolf's pelt a snarling beast.

Haustoriamancy is intended to be the primary form of magic in a setting, with more traditional Cairn magic existing, but not intended as a primary source of a character's abilities.

Becoming an Enchanter

Enchanting is a specialized semi-magical technique present in some members of society. For purposes of PC's, it is assumed any PC has the ability to become an enchanter, but lack the training unless granted to them by a background. Training takes 100 silver (silver standard) and several months of dedicated practice.

In addition, a haustoriamancer requires a ley-enchanted item, items with natural magic present inside of them. These items are either ancient relics (made entirely of non-conductive material) or items of deep sentimental value (again, made of non-conductive material). Regardless of what a ley-enchanted item is made of, it acts as a simple weapon (1d6 damage), unless it's a weapon that would do more naturally.

Enchanting

To enchant, a haustoriamancer uses their ley-item to infuse magical energy into an item, with the following restrictions:

1. Items must be non-conductive. Magic does not like metal.
2. Items must be a single item. You can enchant a bag filled with dust, but not the dust within the bag.
3. Items must be solid. Water is not an object, but ice is.

To enchant an item, a huastoriamancer gains 1 fatigue and expends an action (if in combat), and then afterwards can command the item to do something that fits for that item. For example:

• A candle explodes into a large puddle of slippery wax.
• A rope attempts to bind someone like a serpent of its own will.
• A quill writes a message on a paper when a certain trigger is met.
• A torch shatters into a storm of sharp splinters.
• A bag of dust explodes into an obscuring cloud.
• An arrow flies an impossible path.

After performing its duties, an enchanted item crumbles to dust if not destroyed by its action. The effects of these commands are up to interpretation. Creative use of items carries the day.

Enchanting Other Things

Additional training can unlock other possible items for a haustoriamancer to use. Just as learning enchanting, these cost 100 silver (silver standard) and several months of training. In addition, most of them are considered illegal in civilized lands, and will be stated as such.

Familiars and Blood Enchanting

One can create a loyal and intelligent familiar by spreading their blood onto an enchanted doll or other small construct. These familiars can communicate and follow tasks.

One can create more familiars, or larger and more dangerous familiars, but this is considered illegal, as a familiar will attempt to kill its master if it gets the chance. Small, singular familiars simply lack the necessary ability to do so.

Ley-Combat

One can learn to master the power of their ley-enchanted item. Ley-combatants can turn their item into any form of weapon.

Fire

One can learn to enchant flames, allowing them to guide the flame (not command) and increase its size and temperature. As fires are, of course, alive, they have minds of their own and will obey less and less the larger they get. Pyromancy is illegal. 

Wind

Like fire, wind is a obviously alive. Unlike other forms of haustoriamancy, to learn to control the wind you must first bargain with it by climbing onto the highest peak in the region and offering something of great value to the wind (the giants bargained their voices). Once you and the wind reach accord, you cam now bind to breezes and command the wind.

Bones

One can animate the bones of the dead (a complete skeleton is a single object, after all) into unthinking, but utterly devoted thralls. Only capable of simple tasks, such as hauling goods or pointing a spear at something and as effective at those tasks as any animated skeleton would reasonably be. Ossomancy is not necromancy, as you are only animating the bones, not returning them to unlife. Ossomancy is also illegal, but only on moral grounds.

Biomancy

One can manipulate their own blood, organs, and flesh through enchanting like they would any other object. Such options include:

• Using your intestines like a whip or rope
• Turning your nails into claws to use as natural weapons or to climb a tree
• Altering your face and body to be uncrecognizable.

Biomancy takes extreme toll on the body, causing 1d6 points of strength damage after an enchantment is finished. Legends tell of powerful biomancers being able to manipulate the biologoy of other beings, most notably to create the ketch, also known as the worst predator to ever exist. Biomancy is illegal.

Dreams

There is no magic in dreams.

Finding training in oneiromancy is difficult. There are few practitioner, and those who are hunted relentlessly. Oneriomancers can infuse magic into their thoughts to create phantasms of their ideas. These phantasms are real, but only temporarily. These dreams act real, though are obviously made out of thin magenta light, rather than flesh. Dreaming things into existence is extremely taxing mentally, causing 1d6 points of willpower damage. Oneiromancy is extremely illegal.

Simple Freeform Combat: Keywords

I dislike most OSR game combat. This is my attempt to fix that with a simple system that rewards player creativity.

The Basics.

On your turn, you can attack and then do something else, such as move, use an item, or spend a keyword.

Weapons (and other items) have keywords attached to them. These keywords can be used to do cool things based on the word, but after a keyword has been used, it is spent until the party rests in a safe place or a whetstone is used on it.

Example.

Torr, in his conquests of the north, has come face to face with an armored knight as his opponent. Torr is currently using a Longaxe, which has the keywords cleave, sweep, and hack.

On his first turn, Torr attacks and then spends the hack keyword to hack into his opponent, making a second attack.

On his second turn, Torr attacks and then spends the sweep keyword to sweep his axe under his opponent's feet and attempt to trip him.

On his third turn, Torr attacks and spends the cleave keyword to cleave his opponent's shield in half.

On his fourth turn, Torr attacks and kills his opponent.

Ok So How Does it Actually Work?

When you spend a keyword, you can perform an action that would be reasonably described by that word. Attempting to cleave a man in half and attempting to cleave two men with one attack are both reasonable interpretations of the cleave keyword.

This system is inherently a bit cursed by "Mother May I?" syndrome. This is, ultimately, a curse shared by most systems trying to create interesting combat that's simple. You can't provide a pile of rules to make content fun, or it stops being simple, so it becomes the GM's problem. 

I believe there is a simple way to help make this system better: keywords all have an example of a reasonable action. These examples are not the only actions available, but a simple option for new players and GM's to take. For example:

Cleave: Deal damage to a second enemy in weapon range.

Sweep: Enemy saves or is knocked prone.

Hack: Make an additional attack.

Keywords are based on the weapon, with better weapons having access to more keywords. Any given keyword should be equivalent in power to any other keyword, so a weapon with 3 keywords should just be better than one with a single keyword. This makes weapons feel different and does so in a way that is obvious and simple to understand.

Taking It Further

You might be thinking "can we go further?"

Yes. Yes we can.

A mage might have a staff with the keywords fire, smoke, and eruption. These are the mage's spells, and what they do with them is up to them. Now mages and fighters play by the same rules, and quadratic wizard linear fighter isn't an issue.

Maybe a priest gets a gift from their god and gains a keyword rebuke. What does that do? No clue, let them decide. The fighter gets cursed by an obelisk and has horns, gains the keyword horns. Perhaps she can gore someone, or charge with her horns!

The enemies can have keywords! A wolf could have keywords howl and rip, with examples of abilities those could represent for the GM that doesn't want to balance abilities on the fly!

This isn't a fully fledged system, it's an idea that could be made into a fully fledged system. I hope it's somewhere between interesting and inspiring.

Firearms for His Majesty the Worm

Neurim has guns. If I ever intend to run HMTW in Neurim (and I do) I will need rules for firearms. These are those. Balance is secondary to idea.

General Firearm Rules: Like other ranged weapons, bullets and gunpowder are required to use a firearm and stack 6 to a slot. Firearms are difficult to reload mid combat, and require discarding two cards as a miscellaneous action. Blunderbuss cannot be reloaded in combat. Firearms can't hurt magical things. Intense magic will break a firearm just as quick as water.

Pistol

Pistols deal piercing damage. They do not grant attacks favor when attacking you in melee like other ranged weapons.

Musket (2 Slots)

Muskets deal piercing damage. Muskets grant access to the bow's special Aim Challenge Action. While wielding a musket, those attacking you with a melee weapon have favor.

Blunderbuss (2 Slots)

Blunderbuss can either spray over an entire zone, dealing 1 wound to all things inside of it, or can be fired at an engagement, dealing piercing damages to all things within said engagement. You are liable to shoot your allies with a blunderbuss. Such is life. While wielding a blunderbuss, those attacking you with a melee weapon have favor.

The Powder Monks

Specialist warrior monks who use firearms. They were the first to adopt the strange technology, and as a result have an understanding over their weapons not seen in all of the lands. The Lord Saint Gideon was a powder monk, and it was his years in solitude studying the musket that taught him to skills necessary to hold back the orctide in the south. The powder monks are a reclusive lot, but they will teach anyone with the capacity to learn their secrets.

The following talents are intended to start unlearned for all paths, but can be learned by any path.

The Wind of Black Powder

As a miscellaneous action you can attach or remove a bladed bayonet to your firearm. While this bayonet is equipped, the firearm is a melee weapon (treated as a dagger for a pistol or a polearm for a musket or blunderbuss). If the firearm is loaded, you can remove the bayonet as part of a normal attack action.

Saint Gideon's Blessed Rounds

Spend a resolve to perform a trick shot that would be otherwise impossible, such as curving or bouncing a bullet.  This isn't magic (though it definitely looks like it).

Snapshot

You may Riposte as an interrupt action using a loaded firearm. If the riposte is successful, the attacker does not gain favor from using a melee weapon against you while wielding a missile weapon.

A Rough Idea for Psionics in OSR Games

The Great Big Lie

Psionics are a lie.

Well, they exist, as far as everyone can tell, but they shouldn't. A psion can't really teleport, they're just very good at lying to the universe about where they are. Psionics are a collective fever dream, a lie just believable enough that we can all go along with it. Sure, a psion can teleport, but only because they can convince us they can.

This is why psionics are magenta. Psions are liars, just like the false color that paints their actions.

Are You Psychic?

When you create your character, for each of INT, WIS, and CHA you have above 15, you have a 10% chance to be psychic (up to a 30% chance). This is rolled once, at the end of character creation, and it is a "yes or no" thing. You are psychic, or you aren't.

If you are psychic, you know the Mind Blast power, and its associated passive trait to understand psychic songspeak, and have 2 PP plus 1 PP for each of INT, WIs, and CHA you have above 15 (minimum 3 PP). You gain 1 additional PP for each psionic power you learn. You regain PP when you sleep, same as spell slots.

Anyone can be psychic. Even a barbarian. Imagine how horrifying that'd be.

Using Psionic Powers

A psionic power consists of an activated effect that spends PP to active, as well as a passive effect that is always active. Using a psionic power takes your turn (or action, or whatever) and is treated as a magical action if necessary (but isn't effected by anti-magic). Consume the amount of PP listed by the power to perform its effect. Once you run out of PP, the universe is done with your bullshit and refuses to let you lie to it anymore.

Learning Psionic Powers

Whenever you witness another creature use a psionic power, you have a 1-in-6 chance to learn it. This effect is cumulative, so the second time you see it you have a 2-in-6, and so on.

Once you learn a psionic power, you must meditate to unlock it by expending 1,000 xp (or system equivalent). Once you do, you gain 1 PP, the power's passive effect, and can use its active effect.

Psionic Powers

Art of Mind Blast

Passive: You know songspeaking, the psychic language shared by all psionic beings. It is an incomprehensible song to all other beings.

Active: Spend a PP to attempt to destroy a creature's mind. Creature saves vs. spells (or intelligence or whatever) or takes 1d6 damage per psychic's level. Only works on intelligent beings. Beings of animal intelligence take half damage.

Art of Longspeaking

Passive: You can communicate telepathically with creatures within 10 feet of you. This speech is two-way, but requires a shared language.

Active: Spend a PP to form a long distance telepathic bond between you and a creature. You can communicate telepathically up to 200 feet away. This speech is two-way, but requires a shared language.

Art of Jaunting

Passive: Your feet lie about their position at all times. You can stand on top of liquids, or thin air, or anything really, but if you attempt to take a step you will sink.

Active: Spend a PP to disappear and reappear in a spot within 30 feet. You don't teleport, you just stop being where you are.

Art of Telekinetic Weapon

Passive: You can touch a weapon to cause it to float by your side. It's covered in a thin magenta mist, and hovers around you, never in the way but always there. Doesn't do much except look cool.

Active: Spend a PP when you fail to attack something to try again with your floating weapon. You use all the traits of the floating weapon when making this attack (enchantments, damage, cool magical effects, etc.).

Art of Push-Pull

Passive: You can grab objects up to a foot outside of your actual hand's reach. You still have to hold them, you can just do it further away.

Active: Spend a PP to attempt to move a creature of object. If it's an object, it's moved up to 15 ft. in a direction of your choosing at extreme speeds. If a creature, it must save vs. paralysis (or dexterity) and if it fails it's shoved 15 ft. in a direction of your choosing at slightly less extreme speeds.

Art of Other-Self

Passive: You can make small modifications to your appearance at will. You are still obviously you, but you can make dirt disappear and remove unseemly blemishes. Or add dirt and blemishes if you so desire.

Active: Spend a PP to create a duplicate clone of yourself. This clone acts like you and performs the actions you would in any given scenario, but is incapable of making meaningful impact on the world. It's attacks do no damage, it's hands pass through objects, and everything about it just seems a bit off. When everyone stops believing in it, it disappears in a cloud of magenta smoke.

Art of Easy-Truths

Passive: You have preternatural control over your voice. You always sound like you wish to sound, and the meaning of your words is easy to follow. You can also change your voice in cool ways, like making it louder or echo.

Active: Spend a PP and with a quick wave of your hand while speaking a lie, you convince a creature that your lie is 100% truthful. They'll figure it out if they are presented evidence that obviously disputes your lie, but otherwise they accept it as truth.

Planes are Dumb

 Plane: A world separate to the primary one in which a game takes place, usually representing an alignment or element. Not the air kind.

Today on my list of strange and unnecessary vendettas: Planes.

I don't really like them anymore. Like don't get me wrong, there is nothing wrong with planes as a concept, and a lot of the standard DnD ones are interesting on at least a surface level. In fact, I think the take of planes being separate places is perfectly valid and there's nothing wrong with it, I just prefer otherwise.

I don't need to write an essay on why I think the way I do. I'm just going to ask a series of questions: Is the Plane of Fire infinitely big? If so, what is going on everywhere else? Why do we only see part of it? If it isn't then how big is it? Do all worlds share the same Plane of Fire? Have fire elementals been to other planets? Do they know secrets of the universe that we could never know?

There are answers to these questions, and they are interesting to answer, but oh boy is the result weird.  I prefer my weirdness to originate from things the players can interact with.

Something I've been trying in Neurim is making any sort of outer plane part of the same universe. There was once a demiplane called the Gaol, but now the Gaol is just a cavern deep under the earth. You can go there, no portal required. The Gaol isn't just a thing in the lore, its a tangible thing the players can interact with. You want to visit the high god of this world? That's cool, just climb the space elevator or find a space ship. You want to visit the elemental plane of fire? That's cool, just find a way to the sun.

I am unsure how useful this will be. Perhaps you will find it inspiring.

Make Your Hexcrawls Smaller

 This is a sequel to this post. I'd also recommend reading this post.

A 6 mile hex is 31 square miles, give or take. 31 square miles is a lot. A lot of my complaints with hexcrawl design relate to this size being massive, in that it leaves worlds feeling big and empty and devoid of anything outside of the couple of preplaced things the GM has decreed exist.

My argument is simple: Make your hexcrawls smaller. You do not need 200 hexes. I promise you that you do not, in fact you could have a full, complete, and exciting game in a single hex. Hell, you could have a full, complete, and exciting game in a single building, though perhaps said building would have to be the House of Leaves.

Perhaps that's an unfair thing to say, a lot of us want a big grand adventure. We want to explore open untamed wilderness. To that I say, you underestimate the amount of wilderness in 31 square miles.

In my last post, I talked about the idea that hexcrawls are essentially megadungeons and presented two ways to interpret that: site as dungeon level and region as dungeon level. Something I think I didn't realize is that region as dungeon level implies a big area, but like, a region could easily fit into 1 six mile hex, and if you think about hexcrawls like that then how many six mile hexes do you need? One for each level, so somewhere between 10-12.

Side note: If you're going to do this, and I recommend that you do, then feel free to blend things a bit. A hex is not a hard barrier, it's just that each dungeon site should take approximately one hex of area.

One of my real complaints with most hexcrawl's design is that being big doesn't make them better, it makes them emptier. It kills verisimilitude for each 31 square mile area to consist of exactly one thing worth engaging with. Perhaps you don't care about that. I do.

Part of this is the fact that 6 mile hexes are just too big to be useful, but I'm not sure things improve if you change from one thing per 6 mile hex to one thing per 1 mile hex, still with 200 odd hexes. Part of it is simply that there's too much content to explore, and too much to design, and way too much to keep track of if you want hexes to interact. 

Second side note: I can't remember where (probably Reddit), but I saw a comment about Wolves Upon the Coast where there was an idea brought up in one hex that was only useful in another hex like 8 hexes away, and I think that helps prove my point. 99.99% of players are never going to experience the content of going to hex A, then going to hex B with the thing from hex A, and recognizing that's what the thing from hex A is from, so why is it even in the game? This isn't a knock against Wolves Upon the Coast in general, I have not played it or read it, just an example of the failings of hexcrawl design in general.

Basically: make smaller hexcrawls that are more dense. I know I will.

Hexcrawls are Megadungeons

Is this a contentious take? 

I'm not sure because frankly it seems obvious in hindsight. Hexcrawls (and pointcrawls) are essentially megadungeons, but instead of hallways we have plains and hills and forests and instead of floors we have modules and encounter sites.

I'm not actually going to argue this point, because I don't think doing so is particularly useful. Instead, I'm going to explain why thinking about hexcrawsl like this is amore useful way of thinking about things.

What Makes a Hexcrawl Good?

The ability to make meaningful and informed decisions(I stole this from Goblin Punch and I'm willing to admit that), Hexcrawls are about resource management and exploration, and both of those things require informed decisions. 

This is where most hexcrawls fail. If all you know about the adjacent hexes are their biomes, you have essentially 0 information and no way to make a choice on which one is the best one to go explore. If you go north and "oh surprise there is a river that you cannot cross!" than you feel like you've wasted your time. This makes the resource management less meaningful. It turns exploration from something you think about to something you just kinda do.

What Makes a Megadungeon Good?

Well, the ability to make meaningful and informed decisions. Megadungeons are about resource management and exploration, and both of those things require informed decisions.

Good dungeons are designed in a very certain way. They limit the players options to help them make more informed decisions. Hallways are the obvious one, you can't go from a room to any other room, but you can go from room to rooms 2 and 3. Doors and gates and keys are another way, be they literal doors or gates, flooded passageways, an enemy too difficult to fight head on, or anything else.

Restrictions give us the information to make more informed decisions.

Restrict Your Hexcrawls.

Not, restrict as in size (though you should do that too), or restrict as in reducing the number of monsters you use.

No, restrict your player's ability to go form hex to hex. Use doors and gates to help focus direction. Remember, if you have infinite equal options, then you have no options because you're essentially choosing at random. Limiting options is not limiting creativity

Megadungeon Hexcrawl Design

In my opinion, there are two options for hexcrawl design:

1) Site as dungeon level

2) Region as dungeon level

This is a choice of how grand your scale is. If your sites are dungeon levels, then your goal is to design a hexcrawl where each adventure site is approximately one levels worth of contentt, and if you choose region as dungeon level you'll have one levels worth of content spread out over multiple sites and open areas.

Figure out which you want, then seperate different sites or regions with doors and gates,

In order to go from the snake temple to the crystal caves, you have to find a way through the spooky forest full of spiders! How do you deal with the spiders? I don't know, but you're going to need gold and the best way to get gold is up in the snake temple.

Obviously, this doesn't mean "turn your hexcrawl into a glorified line. It's still a hexcrawl, encourage exploration. Even if sites are a dungeon level, introducing smaller places to explore or interesting places to find make the map feel more alive! And you can always have multiple options. The crystal caves might be level 2 of our "megadungeon", but the spider tree is level 2a, and both are equally valid to explore, and the spider climb boots in the caves could be used to skip up to level 4 of our "megadungeon" up in the mountains.

Basically: think about how you would connect your hexcrawl as if it were a megadungeon, and then shape things around that.

Note: My examples here are all talking about site as dungeon level design, because I think it's easier and more obvious. Region as dungeon level is simply, in my opinion, harder to design because there's just more content. If the spooky spider forest is meant to be enough content to level up, you'll likely need several smaller dungeons, a number of non-dungeon adventure sites, and all that.

Second Note: Do all the other things you'd do in a megadungeon too. These dungeons can(and should!) have factions! There is no reason to think the spiders don't have their own goals and won't interact with the world seperate to the party. The party might ignore the spider tree, but it's hard to ignore the spiders when they're invading level 3, the orc castle.

Doors, Gates, and Metroidvania Dungeon Design

Doors and Gates

A door is a obstruction to descending or progressing in a dungeon. A giant locked door blocking the way from level 2 to level 3 is a door.

A gate is an obstruction to an optional path in a dungeon. A underwater passage acting as a shortcut leading from level 1 to level 4 is a gate.

Soft and Hard Locks

A hard locked door or gate has exactly one solution to it, such as as the aforementioned giant locked door requiring the equally sized giant key.

A soft locked door or gate is one with an intended solution, but one where a variety of other solutions also works. The blessing of the water god might be the intended solution to the aforementioned underwater tunnel, but a water breathing spell or potion works just as well.

Tangent: What Even is a Metroidvania?

Some questions don't have answers, but I will attempt to do so anyways because I am nothing if not a fool.

A metroidvania is a type of video game that's kind of like Super Metroid and Castlevania: Symphony of the Night. Vague, I know.

Essentially, it's a genre in which you explore a large open map and unlock powerups over time that allow you to explore new areas, as well as explore areas in a new lens. A double jump might unlock the garden level, but it also allows you to reach that chest that's been taunting you since the start of the game. It also makes exploring areas easier, allowing you to easily perform once-difficult jumps with ease.

You might be seeing some similarities to the megadungeon.

What Even is a Powerup?

In a video game, the answer of "what is a powerup" is VERY easy to answer, even in the context of the extraordinarily weird genre that are metroidvanias. Samus' ball form is a powerup.

What about in a megadungeon?

This question becomes harder to answer due to the ephemeral nature of PC life. The fighter finds a cool ass set of boots that lets him walk on water? Damn it really sucks when he gets eaten by a dragon.

Games that treat players as a group of a great organization (like His Majesty the Worm) or where character's are much harder to kill (many modern games, but an OSR style game where the PC's are immortal would work too).

So again, what's a powerup? Simple: it permanently opens gates. A water breathing spell temporarily opens an underwater passage, but the blessings of the water god open it indefinitely. Draining it also does this, and as strange as this statement is, I would also consider that a powerup. Not having to treck through 3 dungeon floors to get to floor 4 is inherently a powerup to exploring the lower dungeons.

Ok But How Do I Make a Megadungeon?

Doors block progression. Gates block options. The point of a door is to stop the party from going places without first doing something else. You do this either to limit them from going too deep too fast and getting themselves butchered, or to prove that they have the mettle to explore something. 

In a hexcrawl (which is essentially a megadungeon), the areas that are filled with more dangerous random encounters are generally only explorable by parties that can handle said random encounters. Those encounters are acting as a door.

Hard locked doors are a sometimes treat. A door that can only be opened by its intended key is inherently limiting to the party. Use them only when it makes sense and only in rare circumstances. New players often appreciate a hard locked door encouraging them to explore what they can handle first.

Soft locked doors are great. You want to progress? Prove you have the smarts to go on. Like any OSR problem, soft locked doors shouldn't have simple or obvious answers. "How do you cross the undergrouind ocean" is a far better question than "can the rogue roll high enough to open the locked door".

Hard locked gates are for checkpoints. They're a reward for progressing to a certain point, an easy way back.

Soft locked gates are also for checkpoints, but where a hard locked gate is best for progressing deeper, soft locked gates are best for progressing sideways, though obviously both are effective at either task.

The Caveat: The Rule of Options

There should never be but one key.

You might have a hard locked door, but there should never be only one key. At least 2, 3 is better. You never want the party to be stuck, unable to progress because they can't find the only key to progression.

Even gates and soft locked doors should have multiple options. Yes, the blessing of the water god will get you past the underwater tunnel, but so will finding a way to drain the tunnel, or drinking the alchemist Damasc's permanent water breathing potion, or any of a number of other options.

There should ALWAYS be options. Options breed creativity, and creativity is good. If you take nothing else from what I've said, take this.

In fact, there should be multiple paths of progression anyways. There should never be only one way from level 1 to 2, but several. Perhaps there is the main intended path, but there's also a way from level 1a, and a secret route from level 1 to 2 that requires a bit of fenagling to find.

Again: options breed creativity. Options breed exploration, and metroidvanias are about: fostering exploration.

I have a million more things I could say on the topic of megadungeon design and what we can learn from metroidvanias, but I'll call it good for now. Perhaps if there's interest, I'll consider writing more.

His Majesty the Worm: First Impressions

 I return from the grave to discuss the best game I have ever read: His Majesty the Worm. Before we begin, allow me to specify a note on terminology: This is a first impressions, not a review. I have not played HMTW, and definitely not to a level where I could give a comprehensive review. This is simply how I feel after reading through the book a few times.

When Comes the Worm

HMTW is, ostensible, a game about megadungeons. You could do something else with it, but at its core HMTW wants you to play a group of a questionably moral adventurers and go dig through an ancient dungeon beneath your home city with the goal of collecting treasure. This is not a unique idea (not that that's bad), but unlike other games that have a similar gameplay loop, HMTW is so well designed, such an immaculately well crafted game I am not surprised it took 8 years to make.

Let's start with the biggest weirdness of the system: you don't use dice. You instead use a standard 78 card deck of tarot cards, dividing into a 57 card player deck (the minor arcana and the fool), and the 21 card GM deck. A lesser game would treat this as a gimmick. HMTW instead makes the most out of every card. HMTW uses a simple core resolution system: draw a card and add its number to your relevant stat. If it beats 14, you win! The keen eyed among you might know that a deck of minor arcana only goes up to 14, and thus the likelihood of any random card + four (your maximum attribute score) is not particularly likely, and the system knows this as well. Risk/reward is built into the fundamentals of HMTW, even in the basic resolution of actions. You can always draw a second card and add it to your total, allowing you to succeed when you fail, or fail far harder than you would've before.

I cannot stress the elegance of this design. Yes, all of this could be done with dice, but HMTW goes further. If the suite of your card matches the roll, you can critically succeed, but only if your first card is a success. Most interesting of all is that you don't shuffle cards back in until you draw the fool, so as time progresses you get better knowledge of what's in the deck and can make more informed decisions. You would not be doing that with dice.

I could go like this about every mechanic in this game, and perhaps I could be persuaded too, but not here, not now. Instead, allow me to gush about my favorite part of this game: the combat.

A Duel of Cards

During combat, each player draws a hand of 4 cards. They play one of these cards as their initiative (lower is better). Their initiative is also their AC (high is better), so going fast is risky, but that risk is interesting because initiative is played face down. You don't flip it over until you are either 1) attacked or 2) it is your turn.

On your turn, you can play a card from your hand to do one of a list of actions, ranging from disengaging to attacking to riposting, which (along with every defensive action) is also played face down. You can even play cards when it isn't your turn, though these cards must match the suit of the action being used and you never add your attribute to these actions.

This system is simple, yet amazing. The hiding of information allows for very interesting questions from the GM. Is that player bluffing? Are they riposting for 2 or for 11? Is it worth finding out? These kind of questions are so interesting and make HMTW's combat more than the normal affair of move, attack, pass.

I'm not scratching the surface here. Health is very low (you can take 5 hits before dying without armor), so not getting hit is valuable. Zones make combat fast yet still tactical. Each weapon type is incredibly varied and has a niche it excels in.

Combat is dangerous in HMTW, but unlike most games its something to look forward too.

Rapid Fire Likes

• Backstory matters, and is naturally built into character creation, but it also isn't overbearing. This isn't the story of what once was, this is the story of the dungeon.
• Ancestries are interesting and encourage you to play in a way befitting of what you are. Snooty and ethereal elves, arrogant and self centered humans.
• Asking the GM for stuff your character knows but that you don't know is a mechanic.
• Experience is based on the party agreeing to do something and then doing it: completely self directed.
• No hirelings. Yes this is a positive in my eyes.
• The party isn't just a bunch of random idiots, you are members of the same guild. You have relationships with each other. Playing into these relationships is actively rewarded. You want to be best friends with another guild member? Act like it.
• Characters don't get better at doing stuff over time, they just get access to more options.
• The game encourages you to play the way I think is most fun, where its less about what you do and more about how you do it. You don't find traps by rolling to check for traps, you find traps by describing how you'd find them.
• Slot based equipment.
• The GM advice isn't concerned with what an adventure is or anything trivial like that, it's about how to make an interesting game. Add that to the rules on how to make a megadungeon and you have everything you need to play present in the book.
• Alchemy: you can cook and eat monsters to gain their powers.

Conclusion

I know I spent this entire impression gushing over HMTW, but frankly I utterly adore this game. There are few things I can critique. Perhaps spells are a bit whatever.. I appreciate the lack of spell slots, instead using inventory slots to hold the spell reagents to cast spells. What I don't appreciate is that only one of the games 4 'classes' gets magic, and they get all the magic. I likely would have preferred it if magic was a toy everyone could get, but you had to earn (same with alchemy).

My other complaint is the price. I payed for this book and I don't regret it, but HMTW's pdf is a whopping 40 dollars american, and its book and pdf is 60. Now, while I hesitate to call this over 400 page book anything other than a tome, that's still a steep asking price.

But I recommend it regardless. A new school game made with old school sensibilities is what HMTW is, a game with unique ideas and amazing implementation of them. HMTW is a game designed to be your forever game, and it has to legs to stand on to do it.

Buy this game. Read this game. Play this game. I beg you, nay I implore you. And while you're at it, check out Rise Up Comus, the creator's blog, and peer more into his impressive mind.