I was never really able to take the ENnie Awards seriously after they nominated the truly god-awful Pit of Loch-Durnan as Best Adventure in 2001: This early D20 product featured truly gorgeous cover art, but everything else about it — the interior art, the layout, the cartography, the NPCs, the “plot” — was atrocious. Imagine the opinion you’d have of a new film award that nominated Gigli for Best Picture in its first year of existence and you’d have a pretty accurate gauge for my opinion of the ENnies.

Recently, however, I’ve found myself thinking that the ENnies have probably refurbished their reputation in my eyes. It took the better part of a decade, but the stink had definitely worn off.

(You can see where this is going, right?)

The 2010 ENnie Nominees were named a couple days ago. And I’m sorry but this:

Does not deserve to be shortlisted as Best Cartography of the Year. Not even as an honorable mention. To do so is to, once again, turn the ENnies into a joke.

Allow me to be crystal clear on the nature of my complaint: There’s nothing inherently wrong with these maps. They’re clean, clear, and functional. (Quibble: The fact that the direction of north switches between the first and second maps is unnecessarily confusing and will almost certainly result in GMs having the PCs enter through the wrong door.) They aren’t bad maps. I mean, if I thought they were bad maps I’d have to look at my own maps from The Complex of Zombies and take myself out back for a good horse-whipping:

There’s nothing wrong with functional, workman-like cartography. But there’s a reason that “workman-like” and “award-winning” aren’t synonymous.

On a more positive note, the adventure this cartography is taken from — Death Frost Doom — is very good. It’s a little rough around the edges, but provides the raw material for an incredibly evocative and haunting experience. If it had been nominated as Best Adventure it wouldn’t have even made my eyebrows waggle. It probably would have even gotten a nod of satisfied approval. I recommend that everybody reading this check it out.

I think the most charitable interpretation of what happened here is that the judges for the ENnies recognized Death Frost Doom‘s general quality as an adventure and ended up looking around for a category to stick it into so that it would be “properly” acknowledged. This is slightly better than being swayed by a pretty cover wrapped around dreck, but is still pretty questionable behavior for any awards program that wants to be taken seriously. It tarnishes the credibility of the awarding body’s judgment, calling into question the value of the awards lists in judging quality, and thus obviating the entire point of an award in the first place.

Buy this. It’s good.

It looked absolutely nothing like this.

I usually don’t get heavy into personal biography around here, but I got married on Saturday. On the Wednesday before that, my brother and best man ran a session of OD&D for my small bachelor party. By means of celebrating my wedding, here are some highlights:

(1) John H. rolled up a cleric with 4 Intelligence. In addition to taking everything hilariously literally, he was also convinced that he was actually a wizard. (Even going so far as to dress up in pointy hat with stars on it.) He carried two wands — his small wand was a stick he’d found on the ground; his big wand was a mace (“a big stick with a big metal star”). Although he couldn’t cast any spells (being a 1st-level cleric), Andrew H.’s charcter (who was a magic user) would cast spells for him, thus supporting his delusion.

(2) David P. played Enriquill. Enriquill was a dashing fellow who insisted that the true joy of adventuring could only be found in “savoring the finer things”. For example, the exquisite delicacy which are the sightless eyeballs of giant bats. (He would also sample cave moss and lichen, leading us to discover the crude goblin carvings describing three pits as “Deep”, “Deeper”, and “Deepest”.) When Enriquill died towards the end of the evening, with his dying breath he gasped, “Eat my eyeballs…”

And we did.

(3) I played Matharl, a dwarf with golden eyes, silver skin, and copper hair (which he would cut once every three months for the profit). Matharl had once been a member of the Doge City of the Imperial Emperor 362. (Yes, the 362nd Doge City of the Dwarven Empire. We have delved deep. And wide. And also invested heavily in surface real estate.) But after contracting the metallo curse, he was exiled.

(4) We also had a newbie at the table who had never played an RPG before. He rolled some truly amazing ability scores, but then balanced out his luck by rolling a 3 on 3d6 to garner only 30 gp in starting cash. Trying to buy decent starting equipment with such meager funds was an exercise the whole table contributed to. We eventually got him decent armor (leather) and a weapon, but ran out of money before we could get him rations.

(5) Our newbie had also shown up late, so the rest of us were already in the dungeon. Our DM decided to start the newbie back at town. When he was presented with, “You’re in town. And out of food. What do you do?” His response was, literally, “Wait… This is how we do this?”

He was pretty consistently awesome throughout the entire evening. A little too eager to leap head-long down dungeon passages, but Matharl eventually resigned himself to that by simply keeping his ass as far back as he possibly could while the suicidal little runt went on his rampages.

(6) I say “runt” because in filling out his character sheet our newbie had created a 342 year old, 4′ 3″ , 184 pound human named Rico Suave. (Ricky II.) This was good, goofy fun. It was also great because the upper level of the DM’s dungeon was composed of tight passages that we were forced to crawl through (with branching tunnels that we eventually found led to the Deep, Deeper, and Deepest shafts mentioned above). While he’d insisted that everyone except my dwarf would be forced to remove their armor while crawling through these cramped passags, Rico Suave had inadvertently ended up being shorter and weighing less than I did. Ergo, he, too, was able to keep his armor on. This allowed us to travel down the passages front-to-back

(7) This prevented a repeat performance of an early disaster in which gremlins — little green balls with red-veined legs — had savaged Rico Suave from behind and stolen his food. Actually, that encounter probably would have ended okay if I hadn’t set the tunnel on fire.

(8) The session started when we received a mission from the sultan to rescue his harem. (A perfect scenario for a bachelor party game.) He offered us a 1,000 gp reward and then gave us the intel he had received from a palace guard who had followed the “swarthy, humanoid kidnappers” to a cave 4 days from the city. We couldn’t question the guard because the sultan had killed him to keep slanderous rumors from spreading about the loss of his harem…

… Matharl instantly realized that if the sultan was willing to kill his own guard for having even less information than we would once we returned the harem, that we probably wouldn’t be seeing that reward. On the other hand, there were 8 beautiful harem girls in a cave.

Before leaving town, though, we made a point of spreading rumors all over town that the sultan had lost his harem. We even mentioned the reward and the location of the cave. We figured there was a pretty good shot that other adventurers might show up, clear out the upper levels, and leave us with a clear shot at the harem girls.

(9) That didn’t happen, but it did set up the scenario by which Rico Suave joined the party. The DM staged a scene in which Rico Suave heard our 4 Int pseudo-wizard talking about the 1,000 gp reward. When he later showed up, though, we managed to convince both him and the 4 Int wizard that the reward was only 500 gp. (But  we would totally split it evenly with them.)

THE BIG FINISH

After several perilous delves, we descended the Deepest shaft and found a metal plate. We knocked loudly and waited. When it opened, a pair of glowing eyes peered out from the darkness below. I wanted to know what it was, so I dropped my torch. The DM ruled that it landed pointy-end first, rolled for max damage, and ended up having the torch skewer the furry goblinoid straight through the forehead. He plopped down dead.

Rico Suave, naturally, leapt down to the corpse. He yanked the torch free and then looked around… to find himself surrounded by a ring of more furry goblinoids and several ettins, all looking at him in complete shock. Rico Suave looked up, “Uh… guys. There are a lot of them down here. I think–”

And then he was torn limb from limb.

Thinking quickly, Matharl called out in goblin, “Quick! Over this way! The vile murderer has jumped down this shaft!”

I was able to convince the ettins and goblins that Rico Suave had killed my father. We had pursued him into these caves seeking vengeance, which we were grateful they had given to us. They offered me the honor of chopping off his head. Which I did.

It turned out that they were in a celebratory mood themselves, having recently “fulfilled the prophecy” by sending a band to the “surface of the daybringer’s bright light” to capture “the veiled ones”. We managed to get ourselves invited back to a celebratory feast of prime Rico Suave meat. (Enriquill: “Always enjoy the finer things.”)

When we got to the feasting chamber, we found four of the harem girls huddled in a corner and quickly confirmed that the other four had already been eaten. (Apparently the dwarf girl was a good cook and had been forced to cook her friends.) Rico Suave wasn’t quite enough meat for all of us, so the ettins were getting ready to sacrifice another harem girl to the pot.

Matharl, thinking quickly, offered to first perform a sacred ritual of his people to thank the humanoids for fulfilling his vengeance and to bless their feast. Although one of the ettins fell to arguing with itself over the matter and one of the goblins looking a little suspicious, Matharl convinced them to kneel in a circle around the cooking fire. He said that the ritual would bring the power of the daystar into their hearts and then doused them with the holy oil.

And by “holy oil”, I mean “highly flammable oil”.

With the monsters doused, everybody lowered their torches and started a bonfire.

As we were leading the harem girls out, we discovered that some cryptic remarks the ettins had made earlier actually referred to sea serpents and green gelloid monsters. It was during the final battle against these creatures, holding the line while the harem girls escaped, that Enriquill fell.

But we emerged largely victorious. And since Enriquill was dead, we each had a harem girl for ourselves. Since the girls were pretty certain that the sultan was almost certainly going to kill us (even if we hadn’t let four of the girls get eaten before we saved them), and they weren’t particularly enthusiastic about going back to him anyway, we decided that we’d heard some wonderful things about the city of Waterdeep.

(The DM was surprised to learn that we had been in the Forgotten Realms this entire time.)

FURTHER READING
Reactions to OD&D
OD&D in the Caverns of Thracia

Last year I began a series of posts regarding my reactions to the original 1974 edition of Dungeons & Dragons. Recently a post on Delta’s D&D Hotspot tweaked me to comment on one of the issues I didn’t discuss in the original series: The timekeeping and movement rules.

Here’s the most pertinent passage from Volume 3: Underworld & Wilderness Adventures:

THE MOVE/TURN IN THE UNDERWORLD:

In the underworld all distances are in feet, so wherever distances are given in inches convert them to tens of feet.

Movement (distances given in Vol. 1) is in segments of approximately ten minutes. Thus it takes ten minutes to move about two moves — 120 feet for a fully-armored character. Two moves constitute a turn, except in flight/pursuit situations where the moves/turn will be doubled (and no mapping allowed).

[…]

Melee is fast and furious. There are ten rounds of combat per turn.

I have now introduced close to two dozen people to the OD&D rules. This almost always involves walking them through the major cruxes of the rules, but even in cases where a more rapid acclimation is called for, I still make a point of reading this passage to them: That way they can fully appreciate the archaeological reconstruction of the rulebooks necessary to actually play this game.

What can we conclude from this passage?

2 moves = 4 flight/pursuit moves = 1 turn = 1 segment = 10 rounds = 10 minutes

The fact that “turn” and “segment” are used interchangeably is somewhat confusing, but what makes the passage really tricky is that they actually aren’t used interchangeably. If you can move the “distance given in Vol. 1” in one segment of 10 minutes, what does it mean that you can also make two moves in a turn of 10 minutes?

Making this even more confusing is the phrase “120 feet for a fully-armored character”. The phrase “fully-armored” means absolutely nothing in the context of the rules and the default speed for a character is 12″ = 120 feet. So if you interpret that passage to mean that a character with a 12″ movement moves 120 feet in two moves that take 1 turn, then it follows that a “move” (in the context of this passage, anyway) actually equals 1/2 the character’s speed. Which would mean that:

1 move = 1 segment = 0.5 turns

But that’s probably not what it means. What “fully-armored” probably means is the “speed of an Armored Footman (6″/turn) which is referenced as part of an example in Volume 1. (Which is not, actually, the speed of a character fully-armored character unless they’re also carrying a bunch of other equipment. Unless, of course, you decide to interpret this example as a new rule that actually implies that armor alone — separate from weight carried — can affect the speed of a character.).

But that still doesn’t clear up how:

1 segment = 1 move = 10 minutes

and

1 turn = 2 moves = 10 minutes

Can both be true. (They obviously can’t.)

MOVE TURNS vs. MELEE TURNS

But we’re not done yet.

Although the title of this section as it appears on page 8 of Volume 3 is THE MOVE/TURN IN THE UNDERWORLD, on the table of contents for this volume it appears as “The Move Turn in the Underworld”.

This separate coining of the phrase “move turn” could probably be safely ignored, if it wasn’t for Supplement 1: Greyhawk. In this supplement, Gygax casually introduces the term “melee turn”. For example, on page 6 the duration of the Monster Summoning I spell is listed as: “Duration: 6 melee turns”.

Furthermore, on page 18 of Supplement 1, giant snakes are given damage of “2-8/turn of constriction”. The use of the term “turn” here can’t possibly mean 10 minutes, can it?

TURNS vs. FULL TURNS

And then we come to Supplement 2: Blackmoor, which is credited to Dave Arneson. On page 1, in describing the abilities of monks, he writes: “…has a 75% chance of stunning the opponent for from 3-12 turns”. Much like the giant snake from Supplement 1, it seems unlikely that Arneson means that the monk can stun opponents for 30 to 120 minutes.

And this suspicion seems confirmed when, on the next page, he writes that 5th level monks can “perfectly simulate death” for a duration of time equal to “a six sided die x level for the number of full turns”.

Should we interpret “full turn” to mean something different than “turn” from the previous page? Context certainly seems to suggest it.

It’s therefore tempting, I think, to suggest that Arneson was using “turn vs. full turn” in the same sense that Gygax was using “round vs. turn” or “melee turn vs. move turn”.

If this were actually the case, it would go a long way towards explaining why this terminology is so hopelessly confused in OD&D: You had at least two different authors using the term “turn” with at least two completely inverted meanings.

Perhaps the central crux can be found when we hit Arneson’s description of the giant squid (page16): “Squids tire easily; there is a 50% chance that they will withdraw after three rounds of melee, with a 5% increase each turn thereafter.”

Here Arneson displays knowledge of the term “round”, but does his use of the term “turn” in immediate juxtaposition indicate that he’s using the terms interchangeably? To my eyes it seems almost certain, but perhaps others would disagree.

NO METHOD IN THE MADNESS

But perhaps I’m simply trying to impose rationality onto something which is fundamentally irrational. There’s certainly a fair degree of evidence that Arneson and Gygax simply used the term “turn” to mean whatever the hell they felt like it should mean. For example, on page 43 of Blackmoor:

There is a 1 in 6 chance that when entering passages marked with a dashed line or when crossing one of the bridges that 1-3 trolls will be encountered. Any fighting will bring an additional 1-3 trolls every turn the fight exists.

Arneson surely can’t have meant that 1d3 new trolls should endlessly show up every single round, right? There’s no way such a combat could ever end.

Similarly, on page 18 of Volume 3 we can read as part of the rules for large party movement:

Turn: Each move will constitute one day. Each day is considered a turn.

Which is, at the very least, suggestive that they considered “turn” to be a useful catch-all phrase and that its proper meaning is supposed to be intuited from context. (For another example of the same, consider dungeon levels, character levels, and spell levels.)

And all of this analysis ignores that neither Gygax nor Arneson were the sole authors contributing to the supplements.

HOW I PLAY

Every so often I’ll see someone praise the “elegance” or “simplicity” of OD&D. Whenever that happens, I think about passages like this and I laugh and laugh and laugh.

Here’s how we’ve been playing these rules:

1 turn = 10 minutes = 10 rounds = 2 moves

1 segment = 5 minutes = 1 move

(This matches the definition of “segment” to mean 1 move, but obviously contradicts the definition of “segment” to mean 10 minutes. We picked this interpretation because having a second term synonymous with turn didn’t seem useful, but there’s potential utility in having a term that means basically “half a turn” or possibly “an interrupted turn”.)

Speed is defined in inches according to the encumbrance table (which has its own interpretative issues, but let’s ignore those for now):

1 move = speed x 10 feet

1 turn = 2 moves = speed x 20 feet

Running = double speed

Now comes the tricky question of how far you can move in a single round. The logic here seems pretty clear: A round is 1/10th the length of a turn, ergo you can move 1/10th as far. Which mean that total movement in a round is:

1 round of combat = speed x 2 feet

In practice, we say that people get two moves per round (just as you get two moves per turn), so:

1 round = 2 combat moves = speed x 2 feet

1 combat move = speed in feet

Further, we concluded that you could either move twice or move and attack, because why else would the rules give you two smaller moves instead of just one big move? There must be some reason why you can split them up like that. As an alternative solution, we briefly played with the idea of giving each player two “actions” which they could either use to move or attack, but eventually decided against it.)

How have others interpreted these rules?

HOLMES: Holmes’s revision/clean-up of the rules in 1977 used the same values for turn-based movement. But he radically revised combat. The 1977 Basic Set states, “Each turn is ten minutes except during combat where there are ten melee rounds per turn, each round lasting ten seconds.” (Or is that not a revision after all? Assuming that there’s a “combat turn” which lasts for one minute and is divided up into 10 rounds of 6 seconds each would be another way of resolving the inconsistent use of the term “turn” in the OD&D manuals and supplements.) This has a minimal impact on how far characters can move in a single round, but the exact values are no longer calculable from the base values: “Movement (if any) is usually at a sprint; an unarmored man can move 20 feet per melee round, a fully armored man only 10 feet.”

SWORDS & WIZARDRY: This retro clone of OD&D oddly chooses to explicitly contradict the OD&D movement rules by stating that a walking character (traveling at speed x 20 feet) cannot map or observe their surroundings carefully. It instead creates a new half-speed category where mapping is permitted. It also fails to provide any clarification of whether or not one can move and attack in a single combat round. It defines walking speed in a round as being equal to 1/10th walking speed in a turn, but it also defines a “combat” movement rate equal to 1/20th the walking speed in a turn (which would be equivalent to 1 combat move in my interpretation above).

(Looking through both Swords & Wizardry and Swords & Wizardry: White Box, I’m actually really surprised at how many rules they just make up out of whole cloth. Even more surprising are the number of rules which are just flat-out wrong. I often talk about how open to interpretation the OD&D rules, but S&W routinely ignores the stuff that isn’t open for interpretation. And even some of the stuff that is open to interpretation is instead rendered in some completely different way lying far outside the gray area of the original rules. I just always assumed that the retro clones would look more like clones and less like cousins.)

Back to Reactions to OD&D

I received an interesting e-mail this morning from Tabletop Adventures:

[W]e also have other news about the Dungeon Codex: you now have an opportunity to get this great product in print! Tabletop Adventures and Philippe-Antoine Ménard, the Chatty DM, have jointly set up a project on the website KickStarter. This is a site that assists people with creative projects to raise funds to make their plans a reality. We are using KickStarter to gather support for a small print run of the Dungeon Codex.

The One-Page Dungeon Codex 2009 contains the winning entries from the One-Page Duneon Contest, including my own Halls of the Mad Mage (Best Geometry). I wasn’t getting this e-mail because of my contributions to the book, however. I was getting it because I’d downloaded a copy of the PDF.

Following the link to KickStarter, I found a pledge system: For $3 you’d get an acknowledgment in the book. For $30 you get a printed copy. For $300 you get 10 copies.

What’s a little hazy, however, is exactly where this money is going. The project promises that the PDF will “become available as a special printed product”, but what does that mean, exactly?

Are they just talking about the copies being provided to pledgers? While they’re charging about $30, a quick investigation at Lulu reveals that you could print up a color copy of the book for about half that. That’s a pretty awesome profit margin for Tabletop Adventures.

(And if they’re not using Lulu, then they’re using a service like it. The minimum pledge threshold for this KickStarter project isn’t sufficient for anything larger than that.)

Are the pledges being used to fund a larger print run? Which they will then sell? If so, that’s an awfully one-sided business model they’re pitching to you. They’re basically asking you to provide the investment capital and then they’ll pocket all the profit.

Despite what you may be thinking, this post isn’t about freelancer rage. By submitting the Halls of the Mad Mage to the contest I released it under the Creative Commons license. They’re free to do whatever they want to with the module (along with everyone else in the world) and I’m not entitled to see a single penny of they money they make along the way. (Although the fact that they’ve turned a fun little community contest into a profit-generating enterprise will certainly influence my decision on participating in future versions of this contest.)

What I’m warning you about is a company trying to rip you off as a consumer.

So if you want a printed copy of the One-Page Dungeon Codex, here’s what you want to do:

(1) Download the free PDF.

(2) Go to Lulu.

(3) Set-up the PDF as a personal print job.

(4) Buy a copy for yourself.

This, it should be noted is perfectly legal: You have a copy of the work you are legally entitled to own (the PDF). Making additional copies of that work for your own personal use (even using third-party services like Kinko’s or Lulu) is legal. What you can’t do is distribute additional copies of that work to other people. (So don’t do that.)

And you’ll pay about half the price that Tabletop Adventures is looking for. Heck, you could even print up a hardcover edition of the book and still end up paying less.

Today’s lycanthropic template actually comes about because my first idea for sample werewolves could be summed up in two words: “Giant Werewolves”. But when I poked around at the idea for a bit, I realized that it was kind of unsatisfying for giant werewolf hybrids to shrink down into perfectly ordinary wolves. Clearly dire werewolves were called for.

Remember, these templates are designed to streamline and simplify the process of creating lycanthropes for 3.5:

(1) Create a stat block for the base creature.

(2) Apply the lycanthrope template in order to create the stat block for the humanoid form.

(3) Apply the hybrid template to the humanoid form in order to create the stat block for the hybrid form.

(4) Apply the animal form template to the humanoid form in order to create the stat block for the animal form

DIRE WEREWOLF TEMPLATES

DIRE WEREWOLF TEMPLATE
Apply this template to the base creature to create the werewolf’s humanoid form. This template can be added to any humanoid or giant.

Size and Type: Creature gains the “shapechanger” subtype.
Hit Dice and Hit Points: Add 6d8 hit die to the base creature.
Armor Class: +2 bonus to natural armor.
Base Attack: +4 BAB

Special Qualities: alternate form, low-light vision, lycanthropic empathy, scent

Base Save Bonuses: Fort +5, Ref +5, Will +5
Abilities: Wis +2, may gain an ability score increase due to additional hit dice
Skills: +2 racial bonus on Hide, Listen, Move Silently, and Spot checks. Gains (2 + Int modifier) x 6 skill points, treating Hide, Listen, Move Silently, Spot, and Survival as class skills.
Feats: Alertness, Run, Track, Weapon Focus (bite)

Challenge Rating: +4

DIRE WEREWOLF HYBRID TEMPLATE
Apply this template to the werewolf’s humanoid form to create the stat block for its hybrid form.

Size and Type: Large or the size of the base creature, whichever is larger.
Armor Class: +5 natural armor (if better than the humanoid form’s natural armor)
Attacks: Gains 2 claw attacks and 1 bite as a secondary attack (-5 penalty).

Special Attacks: curse of lycanthropy (Fort DC 15); cannot cast spells with verbal components
Special Qualities: DR 5/silver for afflicted lycanthropes; DR 10/silver for natural lycanthropes

Abilities: Str +14, Dex +4, Con +6

DIRE WEREWOLF ANIMAL FORM TEMPLATE
Apply this template to the werewolf’s humanoid form to create the stat block for its animal form.

Size and Type: Large
Speed: 50 ft.
Armor Class: +3 natural armor
Attacks: Replace all base attacks with a bite attack (1d8 and lycanthropy)

Special Attacks: curse of lycanthropy (Fort DC 15); cannot cast spells with verbal, somatic, or material components
Special Qualities: DR 5/silver for afflicted lycanthropes; DR 10/silver for natural lycanthropes

Abilities: Str +14, Dex +4, Con +6
Skills: +4 racial bonus on Survival checks when tracking by scent

TOTEM GIANTS

The clans of the totem giants can trace their blood back to Uru-Rukk, the Wolf Father. Their religious practices revolve around blood-bonding, ancestral offerings, and trance-rituals designed to evoke past life experiences passed through their bloodlines. The coming of age ritual for a wolf-giant involves the donning of their grandfather’s pelt (which may require the youngster to hunt and kill the old wolf… if they can).

HILL GIANT DIRE WEREWOLF – GIANT FORM (CR 11) – CE Large Giant (shapechanger)

DETECTION – low-light vision, Listen +8, Spot +11; Init -1; Languages Giant

DEFENSES – AC 22 (-1 size, -1 Dex, +11 natural, +3 hide armor), touch 8, flat-footed 22; hp 153 (18d8+72); Special rock catching

ACTIONS – Spd 30 ft. (base 40 ft.); Melee greatclub +20 (2d8+10) or 2 slams +19 (1d4+7); Ranged rock +12 (2d6+7); Space 10 ft.; Reach 10 ft.; Base Atk +13; Grapple +20; SA rock throwing; Combat Feats Cleave, Improved Bull Rush, Improved Sunder, Power Attack, Run, Weapon Focus (greatclub)

SQ alternate form, low-light vision, lycanthropic empathy, rock catching, scent

STR 25, DEX 8, CON 19, INT 6, WIS 12, CHA 7
FORT +17, REF +8, WILL +10

FEATS: Alertness, Cleave, Improved Bull Rush, Improved Sunder, Power Attack, Run, Track*, Weapon Focus (bite), Weapon Focus (greatclub)

SKILLS: Climb +7, Jump +7, Hide +3, Listen +8, Move Silently +4, Spot +11

HILL GIANT DIRE WEREWOLF – HYBRID FORM (CR 11) – CE Large Giant (shapechanger)

DETECTION – low-light vision, Listen +8, Spot +11; Init -1; Languages Giant

DEFENSES – AC 23 (-1 size, +1 Dex, +11 natural, +3 hide armor), touch 9, flat-footed 22; hp 207 (18d8+126); DR 10/silver; Special rock catching

ACTIONS – Spd 30 ft. (base 40 ft.); Melee 2 claws +26 (1d6+14) and bite +22 (2d6+14 and lycanthropy); Ranged rock +15 (2d6+14); Space 10 ft.; Reach 10 ft.; Base Atk +13; Grapple +27; SA curse of lycanthropy, rock throwing; Combat Feats Cleave, Improved Bull Rush, Improved Sunder, Power Attack, Run, Weapon Focus (greatclub)

SQ alternate form, low-light vision, lycanthropic empathy, rock catching, scent

STR 39, DEX 12, CON 25, INT 6, WIS 12, CHA 7
FORT +20, REF +10, WILL +10

FEATS: Alertness, Cleave, Improved Bull Rush, Improved Sunder, Power Attack, Run, Track*, Weapon Focus (bite), Weapon Focus (greatclub)

SKILLS: Climb +14, Jump +14, Hide +5, Listen +8, Move Silently +6, Spot +11

HILL GIANT DIRE WEREWOLF – DIRE WOLF FORM (CR 11) – CE Large Giant (shapechanger)

DETECTION – low-light vision, Listen +8, Spot +11; Init -1; Languages Giant

DEFENSES – AC 13 (+1 size, -1 Dex, +3 natural), touch 10, flat-footed 12; hp 207 (18d8+126); DR 10/silver; Special rock catching

ACTIONS – Spd 50 ft.; Melee bite +28 (1d8+14 and lycanthropy); Ranged +12; Space 10 ft.; Reach 10 ft.; Base Atk +13; Grapple +27; SA curse of lycanthropy, trip; Combat Feats Cleave, Improved Bull Rush, Improved Sunder, Power Attack, Run, Weapon Focus (greatclub)

SQ alternate form, low-light vision, lycanthropic empathy, rock catching, scent

STR 39, DEX 12, CON 25, INT 6, WIS 12, CHA 7
FORT +20, REF +9, WILL +10

FEATS: Alertness, Cleave, Improved Bull Rush, Improved Sunder, Power Attack, Run, Track*, Weapon Focus (bite), Weapon Focus (greatclub)

SKILLS: Climb +14, Jump +14, Hide +5, Listen +8, Move Silently +6, Spot +11

Alternate Form (Su): Switch forms as a standard action.
Curse of Lycanthropy (Su): Fort DC 15
Lycanthropic Empathy (Ex): Communicate with wolves and dire wolves; +4 bonus on Charisma-based checks against them.
Rock Catching (Ex): Reflex save as free action to catch Small (DC 15), Medium (DC 20), or Large (DC 25) rocks (or similar projectiles).
Rock Throwing (Ex): Up to 5 range increments of 120 ft. +1 racial bonus to throw rocks.
Scent (Ex): Detect presence within 30 feet (60 feet upwind, 15 feet downwind). Strong scents at double that range; overpowering at triple. Detect direction as move action. Pinpoint within 5 feet.
*Skills: In dire wolf form, gains +4 racial bonus on Survival checks when tracking by scent.