I wasn't planning to write about Deathbringer. Then I started reading the reactions to it.
I honestly couldn't believe what I was reading.
Apparently fantasy has beautiful women now, and this requires a symposium.
Several months ago I wrote a post called Frazetta Armor. It had absolutely nothing to do with Deathbringer. Truth be told, I'd been making the same joke on social media for years. While working on my Hyborian themed Shadowdark campaign, I finally turned it into a blog post.
The joke was simple. The less armor the hero wore, the harder they were to kill.
Everybody got it.
Because that's been part of fantasy for as long as I can remember.
I grew up on painted paperback covers. Every bookstore had a fantasy shelf full of warriors with impossible muscles, forgotten temples, giant snakes, skulls, sorcerers, and yes, beautiful women. Nobody stood there wondering whether the armor met OSHA PPE regulations. You picked up the book because the cover promised adventure.
That's what fantasy looked like. That's still what fantasy looks like to me.
So when I see people calling Deathbringer embarrassing because it has attractive women wearing revealing clothing, I honestly wonder where they've been. This isn't some shocking new direction. This is one of the oldest visual traditions the genre has.
I've seen people say the women are too attractive.
Too attractive? I didn't realize fantasy was supposed to stop celebrating beauty.
Then there's the clothing. Really?
We're talking about a genre where Conan wandered around in a hardly there loincloth, where Red Sonja became one of fantasy's most recognizable characters, where every other wizard somehow owns a robe with sleeves long enough to trip over. Fantasy has never dressed its characters for practicality. It dresses them to create an image you'll remember.
That's the whole point.
The criticism that really puzzles me is the claim that this somehow makes Deathbringer shallow.
Why? Because it has beautiful women?
Fantasy has always dealt in ideals. Bigger monsters. Greater heroes. Darker villains. The artwork isn't trying to convince you this is real life. It's trying to convince you this world is worth visiting.
There's a difference.
Look, you don't have to like the art. Maybe it isn't your thing. Maybe you think you've seen it all before. Fair enough.
What I don't understand is acting like this aesthetic is somehow foreign to fantasy.
It isn't.
It's one of the reasons a lot of us fell in love with fantasy in the first place.
When I look at Deathbringer, I see a game that's perfectly happy to admit where it came from.
Apparently a lot of other people were looking for exactly that.
Judging by the BackerKit numbers, I'd say they found it.
Zagartha, when it was an earthbound mountain, contained a large temple complex and was the site of a famous oracle, but it was abandoned after it was desecrated by demonic forces. At least two conflicting stories are told regarding its reinhabitation. The first holds that the Seven Great Sages, disputing some obscure points of the oracles last series of pronouncements, journeyed there with their followers and were holding a symposium there when Zagartha rose into the sky, stranding them. The second holds the Sages led a group to a place of (relative) safety from the Fomori on the already skybound island with a magical conveyance that was wrecked upon landing. Even among Zagartha's inhabitants, both stories have their adherents.
The original sages passed long ago, and the number of students their successors enjoy have dwindled over time as they tend to be drawn from outsiders, not from the ranks of locals who feel a sense of duty to the sages and support them materially but have little time for their ascetic lifestyles and philosophical arguments. Both groups dwell in and among the ruins of the previous temple complex. Either the buildings have been repurposed or their materials used to build new structures. The locals are mostly craftsmen, farmers, and merchants. They maintain the all-critical cisterns, tend the small fields, and conduct trade with the "ground-folk."
One important aspect of their lives is the capture over other floating rocks. Some of these are added to Zagartha to expand it. Others are mined for materials. In both cases the rocks are reached through the use of the skywires and skywire harnesses that use small thaumatite to shoot lines at force. The skill necessary to employ them effectively takes years to master but makes many Zagarthans skilled aerialists.
First, you come up with two Marks, or "specials". There's a list of 20 fleshed-out examples to build from. Here are a few to give you an idea what I'm talking about.
"2. You have a silver flute that was given to you “for luck” by an old woman on her deathbed. Playing it clears your mind and lets you focus. Sometimes playing the flute allows you to see solutions to problems or divine facts you could not otherwise have known."
"17. A vicious vulture plucked out one of your eyes. You know its name and nature. A desert devil, it is. A supernatural monster with part of your soul inside it. When you close your good eye and concentrate, you can see through the evil old vulture’s eyes. You can often make it fly where you like so you can see distant places. One day it may find you and try to finish the job."
Marks don't include game mechanics. The way they work is to be sorted out between player and Judge, but usually comes down a modifier to an Action Roll (Prowess or Cunning) or an Oracle (1d6)... the two mechanics used in the game.
I'm trying to keep this focused on the setting's theme, on characters, and the stuff that develops naturally through play. The mechanics underpin it, but I wouldn't call this a crunchy or fiddly system at all.
The idea came up about ten years ago as an OD&D hack inspired by Corben, Howard, and Tanith Lee. Revamped it later and it changed into something completely different, becoming GOZR.
But now I'm back to the original concept. I started with GOZR mechanics as a base and I've been working from there. I stripped a few things away, added other things.
I'll try to do this as a series of posts over time, just talking about one aspect of the game or another. If you read this, feedback is greatly appreciated.
First up, the core character "stats": Prowess and Cunning. Prowess for all things physical and Cunning for everything else. Why just these two? Because in all the sword and sorcery tales I enjoy, characters deal with their world through only these two modes. I don't think any more are needed.
You roll for your stats. But like GOZR, lower is better because the stat is the target number to meet or beat on a 1d20 roll.
The roll to set the stat is 1d4+2 for each, so you can only get 3-6. A very narrow range, which is extremely on purpose and I spent a lot of time thinking about it, running simulations, and all that. It means the guy who gets a 3 and the guy who gets a 6 are still fully compatible in terms of skill.
The rolled target number is for a Basic level of difficulty. Then each level higher adds 3 to that target number. The difficulties are Basic, Arduous, Grueling, and Epic.
So if your Basic Prowess is 5, then you'd have a spread like this:
Basic 5
Arduous 8
Grueling 11
Epic 14
As with GOZR, this simply means you look at your sheet to see what your target number is. Quick and dirty. But here the Judge has options for increasing difficulty. The Judge can decide case-by-case how difficult a task is.
Bonuses to rolls are low. In most cases, you're not getting one. But you can get a +1 for some things and maybe even +2. That makes those target numbers more challenging, but not daunting. You are playing heroic, capable sword and sorcery characters... not farmers and zeroes.
Once your target numbers are set, they do not easily change. There's a way you can swap points between adventures, making Prowess 1 better and Cunning 1 worse, for example. But 3 is the hard limit. Nobody has a stat target lower than 3.
Characters are more differentiated by their histories and their special traits. More on that later.
For clarity, I don't mean characters in a fantasy world that have secret IDs and codenames and fight crime wearing costumes--though I think a Zorro or Iron Monkey sort of frame of masked fighters for justice could easily fit what I am thinking of. Mostly, though, I'm just thinking of comic books like Battle Chasers or Dreadstar (the latter is really space fantasy, but its basic setup is a useful example) and animated series like He-Man and the Masters of the Universe (2002, particularly). Epic fantasy stories featuring super-powered characters.
So what makes those examples "superheroic" in a way a 4e campaign isn't necessarily? In Superhero: The Secret Origin of A Genre, Coogan lays out his "MPI" definition of a superhero. That is, a superhero is a person with Mission, Powers, and Identity. He also has the fallback of "generic distinction" to catch characters (like the Hulk) that might fail by the initial test and to exclude characters that might seem at first blush to fit but are better accounted for in another genre.
Regardless of whether the fantasy heroes I'm thinking of would be superheroes in Coogan's estimation, I'm think about characters that:
So for a couple of years, I've been slowly putting together an explanation of how I run tabletop roleplaying campaigns, and I finally got a good intro and summary that tie everything together and give me a foundation for organizing the details of what I do.
The Living World SandboxA Sandbox Campaign is a way to run a tabletop roleplaying campaign in which the players, rather than the referee, determine the campaign's focus. The referee creates the world, its characters, locales, and geography. During play, the referee role-plays the creatures and non-player characters and adjudicates the players' attempts as their characters. The players are free to pursue whatever catches their interest or go wherever they believe will further their goals.