If you’d be interested in playing in a forum-based D&D adventure run by me, you should pop over to Basketweavers vs. The Sunless Citadel on theRPGSite and sign up. It’s first come, first serve. I’m hoping for a frequent updates schedule, so please be prepared to commit at least daily attention to the thread.

Fair warning, though: This is a bit of an odd bird. The run-thru is being motivated by a poster on theRPGSite named Mr. GC who is arguing vociferously that “basketweavers” — i.e., non-optimized characters — cannot play D&D. The opposing contention is that it’s absolutely trivial for non-optimized characters to play D&D, particularly if they’re adventuring in an open sandbox that allows them to select the challenges they want to face at any given moment.

In order to simulate that scenario, we’ll be using a very strange set of character creation guidelines set by Mr. GC for creating a party of “basketweavers” and then assuming that this particular party of “basketweavers” has selected The Sunless Citadel for their next adventure.

The particular version of The Sunless Citadel I’ll be using will be slightly modified from the original. But if you are familiar with the scenario, you may want to sit this one out.

This is a quick little thing I wrote up on Reddit a few days ago. The basic idea is that you’re looking to run a game with 1 DM and 1 or 2 players. Legends & Labyrinths includes a build point system which makes it very easy to build encounters for non-standard group compositions, but very small groups pose some unique challenges. It can also be useful to have some quick conversion guidelines for published adventures.

2 PLAYERS

So if you’re looking to DM for a group of 2 PCs:

(1) One of the PCs should be a cleric.

(2) Give them plentiful healing resources. At 1st level, a wand of cure light wounds with 15-20 charges should do it.

(3) Take any adventure designed for 1st level characters and do the following: For any encounter involving multiple creatures, halve their hit points and reduce their number by half. For any encounter involving a single creature, reduce them to minimum hit points.

And that’s it. You’re good to go.

For example, consider the encounters found in the first dozen keyed areas of The Sunless Citadel:

Area 1: 3 dire rats (5 hp) = 1 dire rat (3 hp)
Area 3: 1 dire rat (5 hp) = 1 dire rat (2 hp)
Area 5: 3 skeletons (6 hp) = 1 skeleton (3 hp)
Area 6: 1 dire rat (6 hp) = 1 dire rat (2 hp)
Area 10: 1 quasit (9 hp) = 1 quasit (3 hp)
Area 12: 1 dragonpriest (42 hp) = 1 dragonpriest (21 hp)

The reason this works is because encounters are designed for 4 PCs: If you halve the number of PCs it means that monsters will generally live twice as long and have only half as many targets to inflict damage on. That means that the difficulty of an encounter roughly quadruples if you halve the the number of PCs. So we adjust for that by halving the monster’s hit points (so that they survive half as long) and halving their numbers (which halves the number of actions the monsters can take each turn).

1 PLAYER

Adjusting for having only one player in D&D is a little tougher because there’s no margin for error: If a PC gets knocked unconscious in normal play, they can be revived by other members of the party. If a solo PC gets knocked unconscious, it’s an immediate game over.

Here’s what I recommend: Start the PC at 3rd level and then run them through 1st level adventures that have been adjusted as per the above. (You’ll probably want to have them use a cleric again. Or find some other way to make sure they have access to magical healing.)

I have done very little one-on-one stuff, but this method seems to work.

I just got done running the most heavily railroaded session in probably my last 15 years of gaming, including heavily forced scene transitions and huge dollops of illusionism.

(Context: It was a dream sequence being experienced by a comatose PC. They were taken through a highlight reel of their memories — both the ones they’ve experienced and the ones their amnesiac character has forgotten — with the other players jumping in to play current and former versions of themselves in a kaleidoscopic dreamscape.)

I bring this up because I think it’s given me a fresh appreciation for why combat encounters — particularly those in “delve format” adventures — have become so overwrought in the past 10 years: It’s because, in a culture of “storytelling” GMs with railroaded plots, the combat encounters are the only place where players can actually experience freedom; where their choices actually matter.

So you get a large class of players who are primarily focused on the combat encounters because that’s where they’re actually allowed to experience the true joy of roleplaying games (and, therefore, that’s where they have fun). And to cater to those desires, adventure design (and then game design) focuses more and more on making those encounters really exciting.

But then, as that cycle degrades into itself, we end up with a situation where the tail is wagging the dog: Where the railroaded plot that strings together the combat encounters becomes thinner and thinner as more and more effort is put into propping up the combat encounter tent poles.

(Insert obligatory references to the Don’t Prep Plots and Node-Based Scenario Design.)

Over at Blog of Holding, Paul has just posted “The Cycle of Repudiation and Reclamation, and the 2nd Coming of 2nd Edition“: It puts forth his theory that a lost generation of 2nd Edition gamers, who have hitherto been silent, will emerge in the near future:

I predict that, within two years, some blogger will come along and express, with the persuasiveness of a Philotomy Juramont or James Mal, what was so special about the story-based, Elmister-infested, roleplaying-over-rollplaying Silver and Bronze Ages of D&D. We’ll learn why Spelljammer was actually awesome. THAC0 will stop being a punchline. People like Zeb Cook and Douglas Niles will finally get some praise for carrying the D&D banner for a while.

I started gaming in the summer of 1989: A brief period of BECMI followed by an almost immediate leap into 2nd Edition. So I’d be pretty much the definitional poster child for this “lost” generation.

But I think the reason no movement or “voice” has coalesced around this generation is that it’s never actually been been lost and it’s never really gone away.

For example, the OSR has been primarily driven by revisiting/rediscovering:

(1) Out of print systems

(2) Different ways of prepping and running adventure material

(3) Different ways of organizing your players and your campaign

And the exploration of these older ideas have resulted in the publication of new products using these lost methods. Many of which have also found new ways to explore these concepts.

With that in mind, let’s consider what these elements are during the 2nd Edition era:

• Narrative-oriented / scene-based adventures.
• Encyclopedic presentation of campaign settings.
• Splat books.
• Campaigns defined by a consistent group of 4-8 players who all attend each session.

And what you quickly realize is that the distinctive elements of the 2nd Edition era are still the distinctive elements of the bulk of the RPG industry. I mean, I basically just described Paizo’s entire focus and product line. There’s nothing to rediscover here: People never stopped publishing this stuff. People never stopped playing like this.

(I mean, yes, the late-3E/4E Delve Style adventures can be seen as beginning to depart from the classic narrative forms set by Call of Cthulhu and the original Dragonlance modules. But Paizo’s adventure paths are still being published every single month. And most other RPGs haven’t followed the path of 4E.)

So when you’re talking about something being “lost” from the 2nd Edition era, all you’re really talking about are the actual rules for 2nd Edition. And maybe a specific campaign setting that’s been allowed to malinger out of print.

And that simply isn’t enough material for a movement to really gain traction on. Particularly because 2nd Edition doesn’t actually have a lot of mechanical distinction from 1st Edition. Once you’ve said “let me count the ways I liked 2E” a couple of times, you’re basically asking a movement to coalesce around the glories of a proficiency system and three-hole punched monster manuals.

More likely would be strong communities forming around the out of print campaign worlds. But, of course, that’s already happened.

And to be perfectly clear here: I’m not trying to diss 2nd Edition. I actually think some of the best D&D products ever published were published during 2nd Edition.

What I’m saying, to sum up, is that the conceptual stuff from the era never went away: Which means there’s nothing “new” to rediscover and add to your games. And there’s no vacuum in the market waiting to be filled (because lots of people are still publishing products like that). So the only thing a “2ER” could be built around is a nostalgia for very specific products. And that’s why it hasn’t happened. And why it isn’t likely to happen.

I’ve been watching After Life: The Science of Decay, which is a really fascinating BBS documentary. The link there will take you to a point in the middle of the video which showcases a couple of interesting real-life fungi which, with a little fantasy twist, could be made very interesting challenges for your PCs.

Confusion Spike (CR 4): Characters within an area infested by the airborne spores of the confusion spike must make a Fortitude save (DC 15) each minute or become infected. Once infected, the spores will grow rapidly within the character’s mind, creating alchemicals that control and disrupt the victim’s behavior. 2d6 rounds after exposure, the victim will become confused (as per a confusion spell). 2d6 rounds after that, they must make a second Fortitude save (DC 15): On a success, they have recovered from the infection. On a failure they die.

Characters who die while under the effects of the confusion spike (either due to the effects of the fungus or otherwise), rapidly exude the fruiting body of the fungus. 1d4 rounds after death, this takes the form of a long, narrow spike which bursts through the character’s skull and grows rapidly to a length equal to roughly three times the character’s body length over the course of 2d6 rounds.

4d6 minutes later, the top of the fruiting body will explode spreading spores in a radius equal to the length of the fruiting body. These spores create a new infection zone, which can linger in the air for years or even decades. (Although they dissipate more quickly in outdoor environments.)

Dwarfbane (CR 1): This magical fungus, reportedly a tainted byproduct from certain rituals used to enchant magical arms and armor, breaks down metallic items in a cycle of decay. It was named dwarfbane after a strain of the fungus infested the rich veins of Dharballa and completely destroyed the dwarven city’s mines. Efforts to contain the infestation failed and eventually — broken and impoverished — the entire city of Dharballa was abandoned. Today there are many dwarven cities that will still refuse entry to any dwarf of Dharballa out of fear they will bring banespore with them.

Metallic items that touch dwarfbane become infested. Magic items made of metal can avoid infestation with a successful Reflex save (DC 17).

Although a great threat to dwarven cities, dwarfbane poses little threat to adventurers as long as they are wary of the danger: 1d4 hours after exposure to dwarfbane spores, a successful Knowledge (nature) check (DC 15) or Spot check (DC 25) will allow the owner of an item to notice spots of the distinctive green patina formed by the fungus. After 4d6 hours, the item will suffer 1d6 points of damage per hour until destroyed.

Objects affected by dwarfbane are rendered into a green, mossy rust. (Which, of course, seethes with dwarfbane spores.)

Fungal Snare (CR 2): These large, strong fungal growths form large loops around subterranean corridors. When a creature passes through the loop, the fungus snaps shut in a vice-like grip. If the target fails a Reflex saving throw (DC 14),they are caught by the snare, suffer 1d6 points of damage, and become stuck and entangled. The snare has AC 16, 10 hp, and requires a Strength or Escape Artist check (DC 15) to escape. A fungal snare can be detected with a successful Search check (DC 15).

Goblins have been known to specifically foster and grow fungal snares as lair wards. The goblins will carry small bags containing cuttings from the fungal snares, the presence of which prevents the fungal snares from snapping shut.

Fungal Web Droppers: Fungal webs grow on tall stalks to the ceiling of a cavern or into the lower foliage of a forest’s canopy. Once they have reached this height, their fruiting body spreads a wide, web-like indusium. When creatures pass beneath the indusium, the fungi drop their webs.

The table lists the size of the web and the maximum size of the creature that can be trapped by the web. Creatures beneath the web are affected as per a web spell, except using the DCs listed on the table. The web is also coated with a contact poison, afflicting anyone caught in the web or trying to tear it apart with their bare hands.

The tall stalks of fungal web droppers are usually easily noticed, although a Knowledge (nature) check (DC 18) is required to recognize the danger. Some fungal web droppers have stalks which camouflage themselves as stone columns or tree trunks, requiring a Spot check (DC 20) to notice. A Spot check (DC 30 – 2 per size category) will suffice to notice the overhanging webs.

Fungal Snare Webs: Fungal snare webs are similar fungal web droppers, except their webs remain attached to the fruiting body of the fungi and will attempt to draw those caught in the web up into the air. Characters who fail their initial Reflex throws are drawn a random distance into the air. Increase the Escape Artist and Break DCs by +5.