Jack Daniel
Legend
My current campaign, using a mish-mash of the 1983 and 1991 OD&D rules, has been going strong for about a year and a half now. Usually, any campaign I try to run will fizzle out after about a year, with the PCs topping out at level 15, getting bored, and drifting away. But this game... it reached its first major climax at level 15, but now it's level 25, with no signs of slowing. And I blame the rules.
In the past, I've always used AD&D or some iteration thereof, like the d20 system. And it always starts to become craptacularly unbalanced at just about level 15, the end of the fabled sweet-spot that 4th edition was supposed to correct. But now I'm using the later versions of OD&D, and the divine blessings which are the Companion Set and the Rules Cyclopedia have kept me inspired (and the players challenged) for an extra ten levels, with the distinct feeling that this could go on forever.
The game has had two regular player characters throughout: Sprocket Astroturf, tinker gnome extraordinaire; and Mira, a knightly bird-maiden along the lines of a 3rd edition raptorian (Deo gratia for the Creature Crucible supplements to OD&D!). Sprocket's Chaotic; Mira's Lawful. Sprocket solves his problems with brains and bullpuckey, Mira with swords and muscle. They make a heck of a team.
Now for the first 14 levels of gameplay, with those famous red and blue booklets close at hand, I had these two player characters traipsing across the surface of Arcadia (the Europe-like continent which serves as the campaign’s major setting area), delving into multi-level mega-dungeons and trying to outwit an evil party led by a mad wizard, Zoltar, as they raced to find the Nexus of Leylines, a mythical position somewhere deep beneath Arcadia which would give its possessor unlimited arcane power. As it happened, the player characters were 13th level when they actually confronted Zoltar at the Nexus, and they defeated him utterly. This kicked them up to level 14, which meant that it was just about time to put aside the Expert Set and pull out the glorious green of the Companion Set.
I dusted off my CM series of modules: CM1, Test of the Warlords; CM2, Death’s Ride; and CM3, Sabre River. CM1 is an interesting piece of work, because it’s really a campaign skeleton, not a single adventure. It presents an area called Norwold, largely unsettled, meant for the player characters to carve dominions out of. I had this happen in my campaign, and the PCs became Baron Sprocket of Astroturf and Baroness Mira of Insulaves.
Now in OD&D’s Known World, Norwold is just north of the lands that the player characters come from, equidistant between the empires of Alphatia and Thyatis. But my own campaign setting is a fantasy version of early 1800s Europe, with Arcadia standing in for Europe, and another continent called Lemuria which is vaguely like North America. I put Norwold in Lemuria, right about where northeastern Canada would be. (The various Old-World nations also have their respective analogues: Avalon, Utopia, Asgard, Midjard, Hesperia, Elysium, Sylvania, Olympia, and Amarna, to name a few places, stand in for England, France, Sweden, Germany, Spain, Italy, Austria-Hungary, Greece, and the Ottoman Empire.) The campaign began in Utopia (imagine post-revolutionary France, but run by tinker gnomes). And now it had moved to the new world.
OD&D has rules for running characters’ dominions in a SimCity kind of way, but also for mass battles, and rising through the ranks of nobility with conquests and alliances. They started as barons; but the player characters were pushing 24th level when all of the nearby lords finally capitulated to the military and diplomatic might of Sprocket and Mira, who were elevated from counts to marquises by the circumstances… and then, just to make it more insulting than injurious, Mira swore fealty to Sprocket, leaving her a marquise in the vassalage of the newly created Duke Sprocket of Greater Astroturf (at which point, the gnome’s surname actually managed to become even more grating than it already was, what with an entire duchy named after it).
Well, the PCs are now 25th level, meaning that in one or two short sessions, I’ll be dusting off the black box with the Masters Set in it. And rather than running out of steam, the campaign has just cranked up a notch. As it happened, while the PCs were carving out their personal dominions and becoming lords and ladies in the New World, a Napoleon-esque gnome (a Gnapoleon?) by the name of General François Biendit marched Utopian troops on Midjard and Elysium and took both nations in one fell swoop, creating a new land empire that dominated Arcadia.
Deciding that he had to do something about this, Sprocket convinced Mira to accompany him back to his homeland, where they proceeded to assassinate General Biendit so that Sprocket could assume his identity. They marched the Utopian gnomes back home, and it might have seemed that the war was over, except that now Elysium, which had been an autocracy, was in chaos, with no government. And the surrounding nations, Hesperia, Sylvania, and Olympia, were all licking their lips at the thought of conquest. Further, the rulers of Hesperia and Olympia even had legal claims to the Elysian throne. Our heroes had to do something. So, they split up.
Mira went to her own homeland, Sylvania, to convince the ruler there not to attack. Said ruler is Duke Konstantinos IV, an enigmatic ruler believed by his terrified and oppressed subjects to be a vampire. Mira went in fully expecting an epic showdown between herself and Count Dracula… only to discover that Konstantios was very much alive, and a high-level monk at that. His mysteriousness was due to his monasticism, and his martial arts training. He was also dead set on attacking Elysium as a matter of personal vengeance, but Mira talked him down and diplomacy’d the man into a more defensive military posture. One down, two to go.
Sprocket, meanwhile, went to Olympia, to speak with the rulers there, King Olibios and Queen Jolanda. Sensing that the queen was extremely soft-hearted and the king unusually willing to listen to reason, Sprocket used this to his advantage, and presented a plan that would convince the Elysians to accept Olibios as their ruler, if he would guarantee them a modicum of independence and self-rule. The king agreed, and soon, Sprocket and Mira met up in Elysium, where they managed to convince the princes and senators to meet in a great congress with the purpose of federating all the various little republics and principalities which had sprung up in the wake of recent strife. Another diplomatic success, and it looked as if Elysium and Olympia would have their differences resolved.
Enter Hesperia, a none-too-friendly autocracy run by a governor named Maximo Lucilli. A major imperial power with a huge navy, Hesperia was ready to take on Olympia directly, ignoring the anarchic Elysium for the time being, but poised to pick up the spoils when war was over. To top it off, nearby Amarna was once again (as it had done repeatedly throughout history) ready to attack Olympia and make it a subjected province. An alliance between the two powers was natural, and forthwith happened, something Sprocket and Mira are still clueless about.
Instead, as soon as they heard that Hesperia was fully marshaled and mobilized, they sought an alliance with their own liege, the Empress Maeve of Avalon, the major imperial and naval rival of Hesperia. And Avalon has a tight alliance with Asgard, which pretty much ensures that if Avalon enters the war, so do Asgard’s dwarves. Using his characteristic approach of rhetoric and argument, Sprocket handily convinced Queen Maeve that it would be in her best interest to defend Olympia. And the queen’s last words, as one of the craziest game sessions ever (and the only talky and diplomacy-heavy game I’ve ever run that had me sweating bullets from the adrenaline) finally came to a close, were: “Imagine… the whole world is going to war!”
At that point, Sprocket’s and Mira’s players just smacked themselves on the forehead, finally realizing what all their politicking had just done. They’d just started World War I, a hundred years too soon. “Well,” said Sprocket’s player, “thank goodness they haven’t invented machine guns yet.”
I just stared at him and deadpanned, “You did that when you were 2nd level.”
The player went pale. And now I need a Risk board and whole lot of tiny minis, because next game session, it’s war!
In the past, I've always used AD&D or some iteration thereof, like the d20 system. And it always starts to become craptacularly unbalanced at just about level 15, the end of the fabled sweet-spot that 4th edition was supposed to correct. But now I'm using the later versions of OD&D, and the divine blessings which are the Companion Set and the Rules Cyclopedia have kept me inspired (and the players challenged) for an extra ten levels, with the distinct feeling that this could go on forever.
The game has had two regular player characters throughout: Sprocket Astroturf, tinker gnome extraordinaire; and Mira, a knightly bird-maiden along the lines of a 3rd edition raptorian (Deo gratia for the Creature Crucible supplements to OD&D!). Sprocket's Chaotic; Mira's Lawful. Sprocket solves his problems with brains and bullpuckey, Mira with swords and muscle. They make a heck of a team.
Now for the first 14 levels of gameplay, with those famous red and blue booklets close at hand, I had these two player characters traipsing across the surface of Arcadia (the Europe-like continent which serves as the campaign’s major setting area), delving into multi-level mega-dungeons and trying to outwit an evil party led by a mad wizard, Zoltar, as they raced to find the Nexus of Leylines, a mythical position somewhere deep beneath Arcadia which would give its possessor unlimited arcane power. As it happened, the player characters were 13th level when they actually confronted Zoltar at the Nexus, and they defeated him utterly. This kicked them up to level 14, which meant that it was just about time to put aside the Expert Set and pull out the glorious green of the Companion Set.
I dusted off my CM series of modules: CM1, Test of the Warlords; CM2, Death’s Ride; and CM3, Sabre River. CM1 is an interesting piece of work, because it’s really a campaign skeleton, not a single adventure. It presents an area called Norwold, largely unsettled, meant for the player characters to carve dominions out of. I had this happen in my campaign, and the PCs became Baron Sprocket of Astroturf and Baroness Mira of Insulaves.
Now in OD&D’s Known World, Norwold is just north of the lands that the player characters come from, equidistant between the empires of Alphatia and Thyatis. But my own campaign setting is a fantasy version of early 1800s Europe, with Arcadia standing in for Europe, and another continent called Lemuria which is vaguely like North America. I put Norwold in Lemuria, right about where northeastern Canada would be. (The various Old-World nations also have their respective analogues: Avalon, Utopia, Asgard, Midjard, Hesperia, Elysium, Sylvania, Olympia, and Amarna, to name a few places, stand in for England, France, Sweden, Germany, Spain, Italy, Austria-Hungary, Greece, and the Ottoman Empire.) The campaign began in Utopia (imagine post-revolutionary France, but run by tinker gnomes). And now it had moved to the new world.
OD&D has rules for running characters’ dominions in a SimCity kind of way, but also for mass battles, and rising through the ranks of nobility with conquests and alliances. They started as barons; but the player characters were pushing 24th level when all of the nearby lords finally capitulated to the military and diplomatic might of Sprocket and Mira, who were elevated from counts to marquises by the circumstances… and then, just to make it more insulting than injurious, Mira swore fealty to Sprocket, leaving her a marquise in the vassalage of the newly created Duke Sprocket of Greater Astroturf (at which point, the gnome’s surname actually managed to become even more grating than it already was, what with an entire duchy named after it).
Well, the PCs are now 25th level, meaning that in one or two short sessions, I’ll be dusting off the black box with the Masters Set in it. And rather than running out of steam, the campaign has just cranked up a notch. As it happened, while the PCs were carving out their personal dominions and becoming lords and ladies in the New World, a Napoleon-esque gnome (a Gnapoleon?) by the name of General François Biendit marched Utopian troops on Midjard and Elysium and took both nations in one fell swoop, creating a new land empire that dominated Arcadia.
Deciding that he had to do something about this, Sprocket convinced Mira to accompany him back to his homeland, where they proceeded to assassinate General Biendit so that Sprocket could assume his identity. They marched the Utopian gnomes back home, and it might have seemed that the war was over, except that now Elysium, which had been an autocracy, was in chaos, with no government. And the surrounding nations, Hesperia, Sylvania, and Olympia, were all licking their lips at the thought of conquest. Further, the rulers of Hesperia and Olympia even had legal claims to the Elysian throne. Our heroes had to do something. So, they split up.
Mira went to her own homeland, Sylvania, to convince the ruler there not to attack. Said ruler is Duke Konstantinos IV, an enigmatic ruler believed by his terrified and oppressed subjects to be a vampire. Mira went in fully expecting an epic showdown between herself and Count Dracula… only to discover that Konstantios was very much alive, and a high-level monk at that. His mysteriousness was due to his monasticism, and his martial arts training. He was also dead set on attacking Elysium as a matter of personal vengeance, but Mira talked him down and diplomacy’d the man into a more defensive military posture. One down, two to go.
Sprocket, meanwhile, went to Olympia, to speak with the rulers there, King Olibios and Queen Jolanda. Sensing that the queen was extremely soft-hearted and the king unusually willing to listen to reason, Sprocket used this to his advantage, and presented a plan that would convince the Elysians to accept Olibios as their ruler, if he would guarantee them a modicum of independence and self-rule. The king agreed, and soon, Sprocket and Mira met up in Elysium, where they managed to convince the princes and senators to meet in a great congress with the purpose of federating all the various little republics and principalities which had sprung up in the wake of recent strife. Another diplomatic success, and it looked as if Elysium and Olympia would have their differences resolved.
Enter Hesperia, a none-too-friendly autocracy run by a governor named Maximo Lucilli. A major imperial power with a huge navy, Hesperia was ready to take on Olympia directly, ignoring the anarchic Elysium for the time being, but poised to pick up the spoils when war was over. To top it off, nearby Amarna was once again (as it had done repeatedly throughout history) ready to attack Olympia and make it a subjected province. An alliance between the two powers was natural, and forthwith happened, something Sprocket and Mira are still clueless about.
Instead, as soon as they heard that Hesperia was fully marshaled and mobilized, they sought an alliance with their own liege, the Empress Maeve of Avalon, the major imperial and naval rival of Hesperia. And Avalon has a tight alliance with Asgard, which pretty much ensures that if Avalon enters the war, so do Asgard’s dwarves. Using his characteristic approach of rhetoric and argument, Sprocket handily convinced Queen Maeve that it would be in her best interest to defend Olympia. And the queen’s last words, as one of the craziest game sessions ever (and the only talky and diplomacy-heavy game I’ve ever run that had me sweating bullets from the adrenaline) finally came to a close, were: “Imagine… the whole world is going to war!”
At that point, Sprocket’s and Mira’s players just smacked themselves on the forehead, finally realizing what all their politicking had just done. They’d just started World War I, a hundred years too soon. “Well,” said Sprocket’s player, “thank goodness they haven’t invented machine guns yet.”
I just stared at him and deadpanned, “You did that when you were 2nd level.”
The player went pale. And now I need a Risk board and whole lot of tiny minis, because next game session, it’s war!
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