I hope you all enjoyed your Thanksgiving! We had a fine
turkey dinner, and I also managed to watch a great football game and put up the
toughest part of the Christmas lights. We still have more decorating to do, but
man, I hate screwing with the lights and I’m always glad to get the tough part
behind me.
For this week: The genre of fantastic horror, some
thoughts about Benghazi, and the piece of music I’d use to convince aliens not
to destroy the Earth.
Gaming: I’m in
the habit of occasionally grabbing a random book off my bookshelf and rereading
it when I’m between new books. Over the last couple of days, that random story
happened to be H.P. Lovecraft’s The
Dunwich Horror, which I think is one of the three or four best of his
stories (The Whisperer in Darkness, the
Haunter of the Dark, and The Shadow
Over Innsmouth also rate in that top group, IMO). Anyway, The Dunwich Horror reminded me of a
really under-explored genre of fantasy that would make an awesome campaign
setting someday: A world of fantastic horror.
“Fantastic horror” is a term I coined (for my own use,
anyway) to describe a rather narrow and obscure branch of pulp
SF/fantasy/horror stories that pit humankind in a fantasy setting against
prehuman horrors and things from beyond. It’s not Ravenloft; Ravenloft is
gothic horror, and the fantasy elements of D&D frankly get in the way. It’s
not Vampire: The Dark Ages—you’re not a monster, you fight monsters. Fantastic
horror begins in sword-and-sandals pulp fantasy, but combines it with a world
where the worst monsters are profoundly inhuman. Or, to put it another way,
it’s a world where Conan can fight Mythos-type monsters.
Lovecraft’s Dreamlands stories have one foot in this genre—The Dream-Quest of Unknown Kadath, The White
Ship, or Celephais all hint at a
whole fantasy world where warriors, rogues, and wizards might roam around and
do heroic things. But Lovecraft’s dream stories are strangely passive tales
that sort of happen to the hero, and don’t show us the sort of heroes we might
want to emulate with player characters. Many of Robert E. Howard’s stories are
better examples: for example, The Devil
in Iron, The Valley of the Worm, or The
Worms of the Earth. When one of Robert E. Howard’s heroes runs across
things like Tsathoggua or shoggoths, he leaps at it with a sword and tries to
kill it. The Lost World tropes from Edgar Rice Burroughs’ Venus, Tarzan, or
Pellucidar stories are also a good fit—we’re talking about a world where man is
a young and barbaric species, and those tales suit this theme perfectly. However,
the real master of fantastic horror was Clark Ashton Smith. Smith’s Hyperborea,
Atlantis, and Xiccarph stories really epitomize the sub-genre I’m trying to
describe. Stories such as The Seven
Geases, The Maze of Maal Dweb, or The
Death of Malygris feature many familiar D&D tropes, but mix them up
with horrifying magic and Terrible Things Older than Man.
The measure of a great campaign setting is whether you knew
what it was before you saw it. That’s why Ravenloft and Dark Sun are so highly
regarded: D&D fans knew gothic horror and sword-and-sandal adventure before
those settings codified those genres for D&D. That’s why a great steampunk
setting would work for D&D, too—you know steampunk when you see it. (Eberron
just missed being that setting, which is a shame.) Anyway, I think fantastic horror might be in
that same boat. Someday I want to write that D&D setting.
If you want to run fantastic horror using off-the-shelf components,
I think a lot of the resources are already on hand. The Dark Sun Campaign
Setting offers a great toolkit for sword-and-sandal adventuring—you can go a
long way toward modeling Howard’s Hyboria or Smith’s Hyperborea with the
character options and social sensibilities of Dark Sun. Set Dark Sun in the
steaming jungles, volcanoes, and glaciers of the polar continent, and serve it
up with a generous dollop of dinosaurs and monsters out of D20 Call of Cthulhu,
and you’ve got something pretty interesting, or so I would think.
Politics/Current
Events: The Benghazi story. There seem to be a lot people in the
government-media complex trying to convince us that it doesn’t matter and we
shouldn’t be paying attention to it, but I think we deserve better answers than
the ones we’re getting. First, who decided to *not* provide the Benghazi
consulate with extra protection when it was requested months before the attack
in September? Second, who decided to *not* assist our personnel during the
attack when help was requested? Third, who made the decision to call the attack
a demonstration by people angry about a video and convince us that this was all
about defaming Muhammad?
I don’t necessarily blame President Obama or Valerie Jarret
or Susan Rice for any of these things. Rice in particular may have been handed
a doctored script to read from, although I certainly wonder why she wouldn’t
have questioned the story (and I think that I wouldn’t want a Secretary of
State who could accept such nonsense as truth and present it to the American
people). But I sure as hell want some answers to the obvious questions.
Now, here’s the thing: Sometimes the bad guys have a good
day. I don’t regard Pearl Harbor, the 1983 Marine barracks bombing in Beirut,
or 9/11 as shocking indictments of government competence. Yes, they were
preventable, but when it comes down to it, clever and determined people came up
with a plan to do something that hadn’t been done before. All that the
administration had to do was say, “Yeah, we were attacked; bad guys did bad
things, and we didn’t see it coming.” The story would be over with. But from
where I’m sitting, it looks like someone in Washington put the “optics” of a
tight presidential race above telling the American public the truth about what’s
going on in Libya. If political considerations led someone to deny security to
the Benghazi consulate, stand down a rescue mission, and then pretend an
anti-Muhammad video was the cause of the whole thing, well, I want to know who
that someone is, and I want them to be held accountable.
Once upon a time, it was said that politics stopped at the
water’s edge. I guess those days are long over.
The Finer Things:
I picked up tickets to take the family to the Pacific Northwest Ballet’s
production of The Nutcracker this
year. PNWB’s show features costumes and sets designed by Maurice Sendak, the creator
of Where the Wild Things Are. I’ve
wanted to go see the show for years, and I’m already stoked about seeing it.
While I’m looking forward to the spectacle of the dancers, it’s the prospect of
hearing Tchaikovsky’s masterful score performed live in its entirety that I’m
really anticipating. I’m a big fan of the Russian composers, and The Nutcracker is simply perfect. I
sometimes think that if an alien race was threatening to destroy the Earth
unless we demonstrated one reason why humanity should be spared, I might choose
The Nutcracker to save our necks.
I’m also quite fond of Prokofiev and Borodin, especially the
Polovtsian Dances from Borodin’s Prince Igor. I might like it even better than The Nutcracker, although it's not anywhere near as well known. Check it out sometime if
you’re a classical music fan.
Hi Rich. I would like to ask you why you think Eberron was a missed opportunity. I find it as my favorite CS alongside Birthright, and feel that perhaps its designers intentionally decided to not make it steampunk but follow several inspirations and make it something unique. Any insights on the setting from when you worked in WoTC? Thanks!
ReplyDeleteHi, Nicolas -- I think Eberron was a missed opportunity because 7-8 years ago steampunk was beginning to surge in popularity. Ten years ago, I'd walk around GenCon and see scores and scores of interesting fantasy costumes in the convention-going crowd. Five years ago, all of the sudden, half of those costumes were steampunk costumes instead. I saw the same thing in the costume pieces sold by vendors at the show. Eberron was well-timed to be the D&D steampunk setting; a stronger focus on the steampunk features of the setting might have paid off in a big way. That doesn't necessarily mean that Eberron would have been *better* as a steampunk setting, but I sure think it could have been more commercially successful. Moving on to issues of personal tastes, I feel that Eberron suffers a bit from the "kitchen-sink" phenomenon that afflicts RPG settings. In my experience, so much is invested in the effort to create and sell a new world, it's very tempting to try to find something for *everybody* to like and put it in that setting. It would have been a more focused and, well, marketable idea if the key beats were more strongly featured and not diluted by competing ideas. My suggestion is that steampunk D&D could have been that key beat, and would have worked quite well--imagine if all the attention paid to dragonmarks (for instance) had been devoted to steampunk mechanics and themes. But if a steampunk D&D setting wasn't what you were looking for, well, you would naturally hold a different opinion.
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