...They regarded the passageway. Some smiled, some backed away. There was a hazy glow which seemed to be throbbing, slowly, gently, as if alive. "That is not a thing I have seen before." said one; another chuckled. The first of them entered the hazy hallway. The others followed in ones and twos. They walked. Soon each seemed alone, nothing to see but the pinkish haze, nothing to feel but cool numbness, nothing to hear but the blood in their own veins. After an hour, or a few seconds, they could see a darker spot in the haze ahead and sought it eagerly. They did not care what the darkness portended. They only knew that it would be better than this[1]...
Bilbo Baggins[2] might have defined adventure as, "Someone else having a very unpleasant and difficult time, at a safely removed distance," but it is far more attractive and fascinating than that. Nearly everyone has dreamed of visiting Middle Earth, or of travelling back in time to when knights were bold and life was simpler, if not as hygienic.
Children role-play, visiting the north pole at Christmas, acting out fairy stories, boldly going where every child has gone before, but most grownups feel obliged to give it up. Adults read books or, more often, sit quietly absorbing the various types of radiation emanating from their TV sets; somehow they have lost their urge to create elaborate fantasies. But for those who can suspend their disbelief, there is the option of adventure without risk, literally, the best of both worlds... Roleplaying.
Picture a group of otherwise sensible adults, men and women together, in a basement somewhere, sitting around a table covered with half-eaten pizza, empty beverage cans, lots of papers, maps, rulebooks, binders full of more papers, a couple of dozen brilliantly painted and well-loved lead miniatures, more papers crumpled up in and near a wastebasket, and dice, lots of dice, more dice than you could stuff in your mouth, more dice than you could stuff in any number of places... There's no TV, no playoffs, no one's birthday, it isn't even Christmas or New Year's. There might not even be any alcohol in the room. And it's four in the morning, and no one cares; they all have to get up early, but there's too much fun going on and no one cares.
So what is roleplaying? What is it that makes people act this way? What's the fascination? I wish I had a clear answer (I'd be rich). But I think it must have something to do with creativity. There are certainly easier ways to socialize - ways that do not require thought, ways where you don't have to read or write, even ways where you might have to read, but you don't have to participate.
Roleplaying is the only game I know of that lets you, not only interact with good friends, but also be creative. Roleplaying is the only type of game that produces novels and short stories as by-products.
I remember when someone first tried to describe roleplaying to me, about ten years ago; it sounded rather silly. I have yet to hear an explanation that made it sound more than simple escapism, but it is. Because of its virtually unlimited scope, roleplaying is the penultimate form of escapism, an opportunity to go anywhere, to do anything, to be anyone. It is challenging and therapeutic, exciting and relaxing.
At the same time, it's easy to do. Virtually anyone can be a creative roleplayer. Roleplaying seems to prove the otherwise ridiculous notion that you can learn to be creative, and that creativity can be a group enterprise. It was Judy Garland who once said that the mind is an erogenous zone, and roleplaying, like few (if any) other forms of escapism, stimulates the mind. It is intense and laid back, challenging and absurdly easy. It is all things to all people and has the potential to become even more popular than it has been.
While the subjects and settings vary, roleplaying, in the modern sense, is essentially a process wherein gamemasters create worlds in which players live alternate lives. One is tempted to paraphrase a maxim, "Gamemasters build castles in the sky, players live in them."
So, how does roleplaying work? Well, the Gamemaster, possibly with the aid of published background material, creates a fictional world. S/he designs its political and social structure and populates it with all manner of folk and creatures. In other words, the GM creates the setting. Each player then generates a Player-Character or PC. There are different ways of generating characters. Most involve rolling dice to assign numerical values to a set of Attributes such as Strength, Intelligence, Dexterity and Comeliness. These attributes are recorded on character profiles, forms or cards. Meanwhile, the gamemaster generates a stable of Non-Player-Characters (NPCs) to populate his world. Depending on the rules and type of game being played, characters can be wizards, warriors, spies, spacefarers, superheroes, monsters or merchants.
The amount of detail varies. Some "worlds" contain no more than a town linked by a road to an underground labyrinth. This place is populated by all manner of dragons and other monsters. No thought is given to the social structure or basic economics of either. Such "worlds" exist purely for an activity called "dungeoning"; player characters live in the town and travel periodically to the "dungeon" (labyrinth) where they kill monsters and gather treasure.
Other GMs/Publishers provide more background, creating a detailed social, economic and political structure, a milieu into which the town and the underworld fit, along with many more features. The difference is one of scope. The larger environmental system allows for a far wider variety of activities within a framework that makes sense. The H’rn Environmental system is the most detailed form of the expanded universe ever published. When I speak of roleplaying I am usually referring to the expanded universe approach and to the H’rn Environmental system in particular.
An adventuring group usually consists of a few player-characters and perhaps a few NPCs (operated by the GM and variously known to players as "flunkies", "dragon-fodder" or "trusted comrades").
The GM sits at one end of the table with his maps, rules and notes hidden behind a screen, while the players, with their maps and notes, sit at the other end. The players (usually through an elected spokesman) describe the actions taken by their player-characters and the GM interprets these actions and generates the results.
Player: We enter the cave.
GM: The cavern is about a hundred yards long and fifty wide. There is a glow at the far end.
Player: We approach the glow; Barlun and Araxis take the lead, Tamar brings up the rear, I'm in the middle with the lantern.
GM: There's a large mound of gold and silver coins, jewelled weapons, inlaid armour and other beautiful treasure. The glow is coming from the partly open mouth of a sleeping dragon; s/he is about thirty feet long. S/he opens one eye and...
Player: (interrupting) We run like hell...
What a PC will do and say is determined by its player. NPCs, such as the dragon, Barlun and Tamar, are operated by the Gamemaster.
Player: You two, Barlun and Tamar, hold the dragon here while the rest of us make our getaway.
GM: [as Barlun] I beg your pardon?
[as Tamar] Perhaps I misheard?...
[as the Dragon] Fee, Fie, foe, fum, etcetera
[as Narrator] Do any of you speak Dragon?[3] The dragon rises atop his
hoard, stretches his massive, leathery wings, and rolls his large
armoured-head at the end of his, long powerful neck; his mighty
tail flicks back and forth as he moves, stepping almost
delicately amidst the treasure, towards you. He is a mighty and
beautiful sight I am sure that you want to stand and admire him
for several minutes
Player: Actually, we don't... Rapid departure is more what we have in mind... I think I speak for all of us...
Other Players: [shrieks and mutters of agreement]
To resolve interactions such as combat or spell-casting, a set of rules (such as H’rnMaster) is employed by the GM, who rolls various dice and consults various tables to generate results.
Player: Urdas [the player's PC] will attempt the spell Beam of Nolomar at the dragon; his ML is 38
GM: [After rolling a few dice] The spell misfires, your right arm is now a charred ruin. Urdas, Barlun and Chaspar [another of the PCs] are overcome by the flare of the misfire, suffer burns to their exposed flesh, and loose consciousness... so much for fighting fire with fire (heh heh) Time for a new spokesman I think
The GM takes the role of narrator and also speaks for the NPCs. Some GMs use different accents/voices to help players distinguish between the NPCs s/he is playing; some preface each change of role by a comment; some let their players induce the GM's current role from the context. Most use a combination of these techniques.
GM: The Dragon approaches and blinks a few times. He speaks in H’rnic: "Goodmorrow travellers; do you have word of my eggmate Yarani who was lost in the wilderness east of here some five of your centuries ago?"
Player: (a new spokesman) Er...
Sometimes the players also alternate between description and speech.
Player: I will move closer to my fallen comrades and examine the damage. "Goodmorrow fair dragon, alas no, we are but youngsters by thy reckoning and have heard naught of the worthy of whom thou speak'st."
GM: [Rolling dice to make a Healing (diagnosis) Skill check They seem to have serious burns and are clearly unconscious; this is all a cursory examination will tell you... I presume you are keeping at least one eye on the dragon?
Player: You presume correctly...
GM: "How came you here and to what end?"
Player: [an aside to the other players] To what end indeed, or to whose perhaps?
Roleplaying is different from other kinds of game in that it has no fixed objective, no pre-set victory conditions to be met. If the players want to explore and adventure, that's fine. If they want to achieve political power, wealth, or even a quiet, secure life, that's fine too. There are no time limits. A "campaign" can go on for years, at hundreds of gaming sessions. Nor is there necessarily the kind of competition required by boardgames. Players cooperate against an unknown environment. Because of this, many people who do not like boardgames are avid roleplayers.
Roleplaying is a creative art. The most important and most difficult function of the GM is the maintenance of the overall picture. In the final analysis it is s/he who takes responsibility for the way things work in his world.
You might ask "why should I get involved in roleplaying when Monopoly has all of its rules in four pages, and H’rnMaster has over 100 pages? Who has time for all these rules?" Don't be put off by the voluminous rules provided by most roleplaying games. RPGs are the only games where the players do not have to know the rules. H’rnMaster is designed to systematize common sense - if you have common sense you already know roughly how the game works... simple? Now if you want to be a Gamemaster, that's another matter...
Survival is an objective common to all characters. The fantasy world is a place of adventure. There are treasures to find, but there are also fell monsters to overcome. Player-Characters are mortal, and while you are reasonably safe in your 20th century Terran environment, your PC may be injured or killed in any number of interesting, painful, lingering, unpleasant, ways (you get the idea). Few Player-Characters reach the pinnacle of their ambitions and retire after long, successful lives. Most die grasping for a grail just beyond reach, by making a fatal mistake.
Most H’rnians believe that, after death, they are reincarnated on the familial world of Yashain, and it is true, mostly. No one knows what the "rules" of reincarnation are. Sometimes, it is clear, a mortal who has lived a pious life finds himself resurrected on Yashain in the service of her/his deity. Noble warriors of Larani may find themselves serving in the army of their goddess in a war with the Agrikans that has been waged "since time began". When they die on Yashain, they are again reincarnated on Yashain, to do more service.
This form of afterlife is a reward to the pious follower, but the godless, and the impious also find themselves on Yashain, or elsewhere in the Seven Worlds, and no one knows why. A few folk have actually returned from Yashain... perhaps because their "time to die" had not yet come... Sometimes the reincarnated retain all their memories, sometimes not. All the gods move in mysterious ways.
Other creatures have more obvious cycles. When one of Ilvir's Ivashu dies, s/he is reincarnated at Araka-Kalai, perhaps as the same "species" perhaps not. Ilvir, it seems, the maker of strange creatures, only has a limited number of souls to work with.
The elves go to the Blessed Realm when they die on H’rn, but this can be confusing, because they do not have to die to get there.
Losing one's first character (at least) can be a bit of a shock, but when a Player-Character dies, the player simply generates a new one.
Fantasy Role Playing is essentially a process whereby gamemasters (and publishers) create/define a world in which players live alternate lives. One of my players defined it as, "you sit on that side of the screen and I sit on this side, and you hurt me"[4]. Of course, the roles of GM and player do tend to blur. FRP is a creative art as well as a mechanical process. Ideas are generated on both sides of the screen and combine to form amalgams whose parents are not always easy to identify.
Fantasy roleplaying has three elements; in order of importance, they are gamemastering, environment and rules. Rules are no more than mechanical guidelines; unlike the rules of other kinds of game, they are tentative rather than absolute, GM notes rather than laws. The H’rnWorld Module is the second element of FRP. A good environmental framework is a painstaking endeavour; it is, by far, the hardest element to improvise since it is the one element that should be fixed and stable. It is unfair to the players, to say nothing of unaesthetic, to have the environment in flux.
All great works of fantasy are woven of familiar threads; if there are outlandish beasts with strange powers, wielders of the weirding ways, or odd cultural phenomonae, there is still a feeling that one has been here before. Deja-vu is a natural consequence of trying to describe an alien world. The audience has to fill in huge gaps with data drawn from its experience of the real world. There is a natural assumption that whatever is not specifically described will correspond to the real world. Any fantasy world must, in this sense, be familiar, but this is not the test of great fantasy; that is more intangible.
Perhaps it is a matter of degree, of how much, and in what manner, the viewer (player) is required to suspend his disbelief. Most are willing to accept that magic works and that fell beasts roam the wilderness, but the trick has to do with chaos control, the degree of outlandishness. There is a vital element of mood, the feel of the place, an elusive principle lying at the heart of successful fantasy.
While it is true that magic-powerful, hack and slash environs can keep players occupied for a time (possibly, depending on the individuals involved, for a long time) only a carefully thought out and maintained, ongoing, "rational" fantasy world can give the feeling that one is involved in an epic. Those who are limited to short forays into disjointed chaos are missing something; they are swallowing warm, flat lemonade when there is champagne available.
The starting framework in designing a fantasy world is always the real world, of which everyone has their own picture. Those who think they are creating from scratch are fooling themselves. Even if their world were 100% original, unless they were somehow able to describe every single aspect of it must still be perceived as a variant of the real world. In some ways this makes fantasy design harder. Even though the similarities to the real world do not have to be specified, they must be considered. One "little" addition to the overall picture, say the inclusion of dragons, may have far reaching consequences that have to be explained. Designing a fantasy environment is like telling a huge lie. If it is to be believed it must, at least, sound credible; gossamer dreams turn too easily into cobwebs. It seems then, that where the fantasy is to diverge from reality the onus is on the author to justify the divergence. In novels, the only justification is to advance the plot and, in FRP, the rules and GM/player understanding.
Roleplaying has had some bad press over the years. I've heard about young persons getting overly involved in their characters and doing some pretty foolish things; you have to wonder what they would have done if they had been model train buffs, or aeroplane freaks... Outlandish, anti-social incidents are apparently, however, lower among the roleplaying community than the general population. Of course it's the outlandish that gets the headlines.
There have also been accusations that some products include actual recipes for conjuring demons and disposing of souls... really nasty stuff. Of course, the people who include such stuff in their products don't believe in it, and the people who are doing all the complaining are firm believers in hell, the devil and all his works. Well, everyone is entitled to his beliefs, although no one should be burning books. Roleplaying has nothing to do with actually wandering around in the bush. Nor, in a decade of roleplaying, have I ever seen a demon actually materialize during a roleplaying session, although some folk do get nasty from time to time...
There are two basic styles of roleplaying, practitioners of each style seem to have little patience for the other. The Hack & Slashers tend to have gaming sessions that are action-packed forays into "dungeons" filled with monsters to be slain, and treasure to be found. They don't care much about how the objects of their quests came to be there. They just want to have a good time, get lots of experience points and advance their characters to the 23rd level before the next session. Now there is nothing wrong with just wanting to have some fun; this is a reasonable way to while away one's time, but there is a viable, more cerebral, alternative.
Some people have distinguished between the two styles by calling them roll-playing and role-playing. Roleplayers develop and play characters in an effort to explore interpersonal relations on new levels, explore interesting and dynamic worlds that have a feel of good fantasy, while entertaining themselves and their friends in a modern-day manifestation of the storyteller's art. Roll-players, on the other hand are waging a war of sheer chance with dice against a chaotic, comic-book parody of every B-Movie nightmare ever made rolled into one. Needless to say, the person who came up with these definitions was a role-player.
While most roleplayers are in junior high school, the typical H’rn/H’rnMaster user is a college student, someone interested in being a good role-player. It is at people like this book is aimed. Not just for those who are in a game using H’rn/H’rnMaster, but for anyone who wants to get more out of roleplaying. Your letters say that there is a definite desire for a book like this, containing all of the information that a player needs to adventure in Kethira.
This is not a cheat book designed to tell you how to beat the GM and win the treasure. There is nothing in here that players/PCs should not know, although there is material here that your character might not know, and might not need. Unless your GM says otherwise, you can read the whole thing as much as you like, as often as you like and whenever you like... In fact, why not buy several copies? If the guide helps you learn more, become a better player, or get more enjoyment out of H’rn/H’rnMaster, then the guide has led you to its intended destination.
While it is true that players do not have to know the rules, it doesn't hurt if they understand the way things work, and it can actually help them, and their GMs get things done.
Play is conducted in sessions, usually of four to six hours duration. Your PC's activities may vary greatly from one session to the next. Sometimes there will be a clear objective for the session. Perhaps your band of brave adventurers will first have to attend to the necessity of finding food and lodging. In a well-run game, mundane activities take less of your time than adventure. A boring game month may be glossed over in only a few minutes of real-time, while you might take more than an hour of real-time to resolve a tense battle situation that lasts only a few minutes of gametime. Business unfinished at the end of one session can be taken up at the next. Some "quests" can be completed in an hour or two, others require many sessions. Each mystery, when solved, tends to pose new questions. Each objective, once met, tends to suggest more possibilities.
® Listen to the GM. If s/he describes a situation and you are too busy to listen, s/he may be too busy to explain it again.
® If you are inclined to dominate a group, or to fade into the background, try to limit your inclination. Roleplaying works best if all the players have a say. Other players' objectives may not coincide with yours, but if the group is to function properly, everyone should be accommodated.
® Roleplaying generates paperwork. It pays to be organized.
® Work things out ahead of time. If a party with no plan of march is ambushed, the GM has to randomly determine who is in front and who is behind. Any plan is usually better than no plan at all.
® Try not to divide the group. Apart from the fact that two groups of two are more likely to succumb to sudden attack than one group of four, dividing the party forces the GM to send one group out of earshot while s/he deals with the other.
® Keep your competitive instinct in its place. There is no percentage in trying to compete with the other members of your group, and it is pointless to try and compete with an omnipotent gamemaster.
® Never forget human nature and sensibilities. Your real life friends are more important than any game.
I have a story by way of illustration. The PCs Bjan and Orni were lost in the wilderness so, as they tried to make their way out, they were obliged to hunt and forage for food. On the first day, Bjan found nothing, while Orni brought back a couple of rabbits and some edible roots. Day two saw Bjan fell a deer while Orni found only a few mushrooms which Bjan identified as poisonous. On the third day, Bjan found some delicious berries and caught a mountain goat for milk (there was still plenty of venison left) while the best that Orni could do was three slugs, some tree bark and a couple of handfuls of dirt... you get the idea.
This went on for several days. Bjan happily shared his catch, but he was, perhaps making too many jokes at Orni's expense. Orni grew more and more irritated with his companion and the gaming session developed a tendency to lapse into interludes of angry staring punctuated by sarcastic comments. The GM tried to prevent complete breakdown, but he found the whole thing so funny that it was a difficult job.[5]
After the sixth or seventh day, Orni lost his temper and picked a fight with Bjan. The GM, somewhat amazed at this turn of events, said, "er... are you sure you want to do this?" Orni did.
Now, in real life, when you pick a fight, you'll probably trade a few nasty words or at worst exchange a few punches, but in roleplaying nearly everyone walks around armed to the teeth with all manner of destructive implements. The end result was that Orni hacked Bjan into bite sized pieces and marched off in a huff.
Now man doth not live by slug/bark/dirt alone and Orni soon realized that he might, just possibly, have committed something of a teensy error. He starved to death three leagues from the town he was headed for.
There is of course a moral here, for while this episode
was a great deal of fun for the GM, the players cannot be accused
of the best possible tactics; and their lack of success did not
enhance their enjoyment. Oh, by the way, this plot is entirely
fictitious (fantastic really) all characters portrayed are even
more fictitious than regular player-characters...
Dice are used to generate attributes and to resolve game actions. When two numbers separated by a small "d" (e.g. 4d6) are encountered, a die roll is called for. The number before the "d" is the number of dice that are to be rolled, and the number following the "d" is the number of sides each die should have. Hence, "3d12" indicates that three 12-sided dice are to be rolled. Generally, it is the sum of the dice rolled that is needed, but "1d100" and "1d1000" are special cases. The first means percentile dice, the second means roll 3d10 reading one die as hundreds, another as tens, and the third as ones. A suffix may be included to indicate that the result is to be modified by addition (e.g. 3d6+2), subtraction (3d6-2), multiplication (3d6x2), or division (3d6/2).
Except where otherwise indicated, fractions should be rounded to the nearest whole number. For example, 4.5 rounds to 5 and 4.49 rounds to 4.
An Important Note About H’rnMaster
Despite the fact that it contains an article on religion, H’rnMaster is not a religious work. It is not carved in stone, is not statute law, and is certainly not intended to bind or hinder anyone in their quest for the perfect game. Frankly after Gamemastering and Environment, rules are the least important of the "wholly trinity" of roleplaying.
We do not think, and have never thought, that everyone should rigidly and devotedly use every little bit of H’rnMaster. The rules are comprehensive, yes, but the idea was never to make everyone jump through procedural hoops instead of roleplaying. There is no substitute for a good, imagination, and if the rules seem to be getting in the way -- you're not using them properly. This is one of the reasons why we have "modularized" the second edition -- to let folks more easily pick and choose bits to make the perfect set of roleplaying rules.
GMs and players should probably think of H’rnMaster as a "safety net". Here are procedures for handling ninety-five percent of all roleplaying situations in self-consistent detail, but if you go from one precise rules procedure to the next you'll probably be spending too much time fiddling with rules and not enough time roleplaying. So H’rnMaster is a safety net to handle difficult situations when you need it. There is nothing wrong with making up a rule or procedure on the spot to handle a situation -- this is sometimes quicker than looking up the rule in H’rnMaster.
There are two ways to achieve a "simple " game: the first is to write simple rules that, where necessary, disregard common sense and/or "reality" to keep the rules themselves "simple". The other way is to base the system on common sense. Unfortunately, common sense is not as simple (or common) as one might think -- just to explain the difference between edge aspect and point aspect can add several paragraphs -- but it is just common sense: edges cut and points stab and if you think about it for a minute or so it just makes sense. That's the approach we have tried to take here.
Eventually, once you have used H’rnMaster for a while, you will (hopefully) come to fully appreciate, and more fully use, the whole system. H’rnMaster is, after all, not a complex set of rules. It is a common sense system.