Reaches of Nalvros: Region – Oijij Badlands

Continuing in the series of unused Dungeon World prep, this week I’m serving up an entire region. Enter the Oijij Badlands.

*Reaches of Nalvros Almanac*
*Region: Oijiji Badlands*

Region – Oijij Badlands

Torrid, Bogs and Quagmires, Perilous, Evil

Impressions

Twisted and ugly, unnatural landscape.
Never a solid piece of ground.
Shifting landmarks.
Spring: Stagnant air.
Summer: Steaming bogs.
Autumn: Muggy and soggy.
Winter: Rot-weed in full bloom.

Discoveries

Area – The Corpseway

Appearing every few hundred feet to those who penetrate the deepest parts of the swamp, decaying corpses and moss-covered skeletons of various shapes and sizes hang on braided vines from the trees. The freshest are dined upon by devil monkeys; those unfit for the screeching monkeys, scoured clean by buzzing clouds of swamp-flies.
: Monster – Devil Monkeys
: Hazard – Swamp Tar

Site – The Sisters of Ojiji

The strange and dark camp is home to the crones known as the Sisters of Ojiji. To ensure nothing is lost in the drifting of the night, everything is chained to a center point; a blind and broken swamp troll.
: Discovery – The Skin-Weavers
: Site – RumTum the chained troll

Site – The Creeping Garden

A lush and verdant oasis in the otherwise muted and twisted Ojii expanse. The thicket of dense vegetation, sweetly smelling flowers and supple fruited trees, never seems to appear in the same place twice. It follows.

Area – Kirotoki River

While foot travel on patchy land or through shallow water is possible, the furthest reaches of the Ojiji would be most swiftly reached via the river. Instead of a single course, this waterway offers a myriad of interconnected streams, channels, and kettle ponds. Negotiating these confusing waterways proves difficult without a map.

Why do locals from outside the Oijij shun travel on the River?
What here are indigenous creatures rumored to protect?
What is unusual about the insects of the Oijij?

: Hazard – Swamp Tar
: Site – Root Hollow
An enormous, moss-covered tree lies toppled across part of the Kirotoki
River. Faint animal tracks run to and from a dark opening amongst the roots at one end, on the other side of which is a damp, rocky burrow.

When you crawl into the Hollow, roll +nothing: on a 10+, You find something —roll 1d8 on the table below; on a 7-9, roll 1d12 on the table below.

d12	Find
1-2	an animal skeleton, in repose
3	a broken tool (spade, axe, etc.)
4	1d4 rations wrapped in an oilskin
5	a tarnished bracelet, worth 1d6x10 coin
6	a sealed bone tune holding a scroll
7-8	a tunnel leading deeper
9-10	a trap, natural or constructed
11-12	a dangerous creature

Area – Black Baron’s Keep

A wicked keep of black stone, high spires, jagged crenelations and a gate that hangs open wide like a dog’s maw. Worse yet, the whole unseemly thing sways on four massive squat crab-like legs that muck through the Badlands at their own will.
: Monster – The Black Baron

Site – The Blue Marble

A half buried smooth yellow stone sphere; spider-webbed with veins of blue-silver metalloid. Moss and lichen creep up the bottom third of the sphere. If the proportions are consistent, the sphere would be several meters in circumference. On the upper third of the smooth stone, angled up towards the sky is a narrow (3×3) circular shaft that disappears into the center of the stone. Even in the midday sun, the sphere is cold to the touch.
: Treasure – Crystal spike
: Treasure – Blue-silver rod

Dangers

Hazard – Swamp Tar

A viscous, dark ooze covers the trees and ground in some areas, possibly
indicating an infection from some dark Source.

When you come into bare-skin contact with swamp tar, it burns you; you will suffer 1 point of damage every few moments until you find some way to remove the glue-like substance.

Monster – Devil Monkey

Horde, Small, Intelligent, Organized, Devious, Planar
Hurled object 1d4 (reach, near); 3 HP; 0 Armor
Vulnerable to cold

On one of the planes of fire grows a tree; that tree bears flaming fruit; and that fruit, when consumed, inexplicably transports the eater to the hottest climes of the mundane world. Such was the means of arrival of this rapidly-multiplying species of diminutive, impish primates.
Instinct: To find a way home, wreaking havoc along the way

Chatter mockingly from the treetops
Hurl flaming feces
Reveal much greater numbers than anticipated

Treasure: Scavenged gold jewelry; burning gall bladder (magical ingredient)

Monster – The Black Baron

Solitary, Magical, Hoarder, Ruthless
Necrotic Ray (1d10+1 ignores armor); 12HP; 1 Armor
Close, Near
Immune to poison, possessed by a Bog Mote.

The wicked Bog Mote who inhabits the Baron’s brain did not turn him a foul man; the Baron has forever been a foul man. The poisonous sprite that controls him only sought to exploit the Baron’s resources.

Wield terrible magic
Move the Keep
Command the Swamp
Hack up sticky black ichor

Treasure: The wealth of a kingdom hidden within the Keep.

Monster – Bog Mote

Solitary, Tiny, Planar, Flying
Stink aura (1d4 ignores armor); 6HP; 0 Armor
Hand
Immune to poison

This small floating ball of brown spores darts quickly between hosts; hiding in the swampy waters if necessary.

Dart to and fro
Hide in the swamp
Fly up your nose
Burrow into your brain
Take control

Dungeons

The Blue Marble

A half buried smooth yellow stone sphere; spidered webbed with veins of blue-silver metalloid. Moss and lichen creep up the bottom third of the sphere. If the proportions are consistent, the sphere would be several meters in circumference. On the upper third of the smooth stone, angled up towards the sky is a narrow (3×3) circular shaft that disappears into the center of the stone. Even in the midday sun, the sphere is cold to the touch.

The unquiet Undead [] [] [] []
Poison/disease [] [] [] []
Noble sacrifice [] [] [] []

Common Areas

[] A pit/shaft/chasam
[] A smooth bored cylindrical hall
[] Rouge hewed natural walls
[] A crack in the wall
[] A large circular room supported by a huge column
[] Niches/ alcoves

Unique Areas

[] A tunnel illuminated with glowing fungus
[] A tinkerer’s workshop
[] An underwater stream
[] A large circular room with a huge collapsed column
[] A hidden crystalline chamber

Discovery Seeds

[] A pile of bones and trash
[] A goblin survivor, looking for a way out
[] A huge white androgynous humanoid, tending to his work
[] Cilia-like glowing fungus, moving without a breeze.
[] A room full of moldering undead goblins
[] A swarm of tiny blue motes lead the way
[] A valuable mineral/metal
[] Signs of a battle
[] A magical/alien item

Danger Seeds

[] A pit trap
[] Large mechanical beetles (16) scoured the tunnels
[] A fungaloid lord soaking strands of glowing fungus in the water
[] A room collapse

Ladders in the Dark

In a recent 5e game, the adventures followed an opening in mine shaft into a subterranean mushroom forest; an underground ravine filled with massive mushrooms and curious, gnome-sized, wide-eyed, cave-dwelling onlookers. The party set forth down a winding tunnel, deeper into the earth. After encountering a venerated myconid lordling and ingesting oodles of spores – the heroes came to a half-sized temple to the fungal hive. Oh yeah, on account of the spores, the party could now read one another’s thoughts and empathize with the surrounding fungi.

Exploring the pint-sized temple provided some additional opportunities for mushroom talk and sharing ugly truths between the group. Eventually, they found a tiny ladder that lead down, further still.

Hanging down into the dark void, the child-sized ladder bent back and forth on itself, like a fire escape. It was the only path to discover the answers to the questions they sought. Faced with the prospect of descending a wee-bitty ladder that hung suspended in the darkness thousands of feet above god-knows-what, it felt like the perfect opportunity to make a mini game mechanic. G

The Descent

The tiny stairs hand down and into stretch far into the darkness. The structure sways with a gentle rhythm and creeks in protest as you step on to the grate.

There are six ‘zones’ on the stairs, 1 at being the highest point and 6 being the lowest point.
Each zone is made up of 5 squares, roughly 50ft each.
The consequence of falling off the stairs at each zone is listed below.

ZONE(s)	RESULTS
1 & 2	20d6 dmg when you hit the rocks.
3 & 4	DC10 acrobatics save to angle towards the water. – on a save, 10d6 dmg and in the water. – on a fail, 20d6 dmg and on the rocks.
5	DC15 acrobatics save to angle towards the water. – on a save, 10d6 dmg and in the water. – on a fail, 20d6 dmg and on the rocks.
6	It’s too short a fall to angle towards the water. 20d6 dmg, minus 5 dice for each square below the highest square in zone 6. Reduced to a minimum of 5d6.

Movement on the stairs is as followed:

Out of Combat

Spend roughly 1 minute traversing the stairs to move between zones.

In Combat

Spend a full Move action, advancing a square up or down.

If all you do on your turn is Move and Dash – move 2 squares. Then you may opt to make a DC12 Athletics/Acrobatics check to recklessly move down the stairs.

On a success, move 1 additional space. On a critical success, move 2 additional spaces.

If you fail by 5 or more, you stumble and fall prone on the stairs, reducing how much ground you can cover on a future turn. On a critical fail, you lose your footing and make a DC12 DEX save to avoid falling off the stairs.

The Fall

If you do fall from the ladder, see below.

While in free fall, you descend at a rage of 10 boxes per round. While falling, if you run out of boxes to advance before the end of your turn, you hit the ground. Consult the results of the previous table for damage.

While falling, on your turn, as a bonus action you must attempt a concentrate check , DC10 CON save, before attempting any action (spell, skill/ability check, etc.) that could stop your fall.

The base difficulty for stopping your fall is DC15, modified +/- by the situation.

Notes from Play

After our session, I made a little tweak that I hope will make this mechanic feel more crisp in future play. Originally each square was roughly 100ft of stairs – I reduced this to 50ft of stairs per square. The scale of the stairs did not affect the climb/fall mechanic because we were dealing with counting squares, not feet, but it did have an adverse effect when I layered in a combat on the stairs. This reduction has two primary purposes: reducing the number of rounds a falling character has before they hit the ground and improving ranged combat.

The party encountered a drider, who had been stalking them, on the stairs. It opened with dispelling the levitation the wizard was using to scale down the side of the ladder. The wizard began to fall. Not a bad dramatic opener.

From its inception, I had intended to treat each ‘rung’ on the ladder as a range of engagement for combat. If a character and an enemy shared the same rung (e.g. the 3rd square of zone 2), they were effectively close enough to one another on these twisting stairs to engage. I was OK with hand waving some of the combat movement details for the sake of pacing and excitement.

What ended up happening was the 100ft squares proved to be too much space for combat. Too few spells had ranges that could realistically cover the 200ft+ gap of 2 or squares. Aside from that dispel magic opener and a few long bow vollies, most of the actions taken between players and drider were movement.

At a point early on, the players decided this was a fight they did not want to undertake on such perilous grounds and they began their retreat. Because of the 100ft squares, it did not take long for the characters to be outpacing all ranged threats – and the drider broke off pursuit. Reducing the scale from 100ft to 50ft per should make future encounters feel more harrowing.

And the wizard, who chose to free fall until nearly the last moment, before concentrating and casting levitate (awesome) – would have had to resolve his fall in 3 turns instead of 6. And I’m all about reducing protracted combat.

What sorts of hyper-situational mechanics / moves have you been tinkering with?

Failing is Effin’ Fun

I’m convinced that players are by in large masochists. At least the ones that I play with tend lean in that direction. Maybe that’s a result of how I run games. Maybe it’s just the type of people I attract in my life – oh god. Not a time for self reflection.

Failing is, as the big words above state, effin’ fun. With this caveat – failure is most fun when it hurts like a mutha and it does not rob players of the agency. Solution: give the players the tools necessary to hurt themselves. They’ll rarely shy away from it and they’ll be surprisingly ruthless.

Over the past year I’ve been running a weekly game of 5e on Tuesday nights. It’s got all the traditional trappings that you’d expect out of a D&D game. And it’s been a ding-dang blast. But I have a secret and I think my players are starting to suspect something – I’ve got PbtA chocolate in their D&D peanut butter. Not exactly earth-shattering stuff, I get it. But hey – permit me this flare for the dramatics.

For those unfamiliar with PbtA – a quick rundown. Powered by the Apocalypse (PbtA) is a designation for a family of games, inspired by Apocalypse World by Vincent & Meg Baker. The various systems loosely share design aspects with AW – what is/isn’t PbtA can be a discussion for another time. For the basis of this discussion, PbtA games generally have players rolling 2d6 + a modifier between -2 and +2 with a 10+ result being a successful result where the players ‘get what they want’. A 7-9 result is a partial success or a success with complications; the players get what they want but at some additional cost or complication – cue the tense music because things are ramping up. Finally, a 6 or less is a failure. The player may still very well get what they want, or maybe they don’t, regardless – this is where the wheels fall off. The crap hits the fan and thing go sideways. But never does the forward momentum stop.

TL; DR – There are dozens of stellar PbtA games. Go play them. At the very least, go read them – the GM principles alone are worth the price of admission. Check out some of the titles below.

http://apocalypse-world.com/pbta/

By leaning on some of the key concepts lifted from the Powered by the Apocalypse family of games, I’ve been able to run a style of 5e that has proven to be a win for both players and GM. Concepts such as: ongoing collaborative world building (leading questions, another future topic), the idea of say ‘yes’ or roll, a non-binary success / failure approach on non-combat rolls and the idea of failing-forward.

Since by now we’re all big fans of sucking – here’s what I did. I set out to make failure choices in my 5e D&D game similar to the messy choices seen in many PbtA moves: On a failure, pick ‘x’ from the list below. That’s when the players realize their staring at a shit sandwich on a plate no matter what they choose – and everyone is into it.

Now, I’m not a crazy person. I’m not monkeying around with 5e combat mechanics (yet?), the d20 vs AC is still sacred in some circles. So what’s left? Skill checks. Okay, but what’s better than a skill check? A skill challenge! Go on you say? Don’t mind if I do.

Skill challenges have their origins in D&D 4e. Extrapolate a complex series of actions down to a series of skill checks vs a DC. Allow the players some flexibility in what skills they use to overcome the obstacle. Track the successes vs. failures and the overall result is determined by which boxes get filled up first. Easy enough and familiar even if you never touched a 4e game – we see a very similar concept in 5e Death Saves.

So we have these two concepts, failure choices from PbtA and skill challenges from 4e and now, we make em kiss. Boom – the Fail-Pick Challenge is born. A typical skill challenge in original design but with an added wrinkle – on a failure, in addition to marking a failure, the player chooses one of x number of choices that each weigh some sort of interesting risk vs. reward. One choice might be safe(r) but provide no benefit. Another choice might be comically bad for the character’s heath but weighted with a big fat juicy carrot danging off the end of the stick. The more tempting the choice, the more it’s going to ‘cost’.

The particulars of each Fail-Pick should be devised in advance and with some degree of care. As the GM you know what candies your player’s bacon best. What’s the thing that they just will squirm in their seats to say ‘no’ to? That’s what we’re after, players lamenting their predicament while everyone else leans in awaiting their choice.

How’s about an example from a recent game:

Dismantling the Earth Eater

The source of the furious grinding sound comes into view as you round the final bend. At the end of the tunnel, a wall of gnashing and biting metal teeth and gears lock and spin with a unceasing need to consume. The machine, twice as tall as a house, bristles with snapping belts, hissing pistons and flashing diodes. Thick tubes feed hydraulic pumps and gouts of steam roil out in anger. The massive contraption works to strip away the earth before it with astonishing ease. The mountain above you and the earth below you quake in protest. Putting a stop to this madness will require quick thinking and precise action.

Skill Check DC15 to exploit a weakness in the brutal apparatus – each player acts in initiative order, using each skill only once.

Successes: [ ] [ ] [ ] Failures: [ ] [ ] [ ] Time Track: [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ]

On Initiative count 20, mark one segment of the Time Track.

On a success, mark one box on the Success Track.

On a failure, mark one box on the Failure Track and choose one Fail-Pick below:

Bail Out – get out quick. DC12 Dexterity save vs. a glancing blow (5d6 damage), save for half damage.
Hang Tight – take the shot. Take a glancing blow (5d6 damage) with no save, but set up your next ally with Advantage.
Take the Blow – face the danger head-on. Take the full blow (10d6 damage) but mark a success on the Success Track, in addition to your failure.

If the Success Track fills first – the challenge is a success. The Earth Eater screams in protest as the pistons and gears powering the industrial megalith come to a halt. The vicious machine now lay dormant as the echoes of its grinding fade into the stone. Pebbles and debris trickle down from above.

If the Failure Track fills first – the challenge is failed. The boring device whirls out of control and continue to drills into the mountainside. Ravenous in its consumption of the earth! Cracks and fissures split along the ceiling and floor – the whole place is coming down.

If the Time Track fills first – the chance to stop the machine has passed! The Earth Eater chugs away, ripping through the innards of the mountain – ejecting tons of tilled earth and debris in its wake, nearly burying you! The device is out of your reach now and continuing on – down a path that will surely take it directly into the nearby abbey.

That should give you a bit of the flavor of a Fail-Pick Challenge. There’s an endless number of ways you could go with it using a similar design and that big sexy imagination of yours.

If the idea of tinkering with skill challenges in this way is interesting and you’re keen on some more examples and thoughts on the elements that make the design – I made a thing. It’s a short little ditty about Fail-Picks and you can find it on DriveThruRPG for a single smacker. Link below for those pickin’ up what I’m puttin’ down. And hey, thanks.

https://www.drivethrurpg.com/product/264739/The-FailPick-Challenge-A-Skill-Challenge-Hack-for-5e?src=newest_recent

What are you doing in your game to make failure dynamic, exciting and efing fun?