Old Man

I'm with Ndreare on this one.

Wow, in comparison, my world is so...simplistic. I basically have the land masses form a fat ring around the planet grouped pretty much near the equator - completely unrealistic but hey, it's fantasy right? This set up makes the yearly weather cycle very moderate with no snowy winters. Might seem odd to some folks, but I live in Hawaii and have next to no experience with snow and winter in general. I couldn't do it justice so I left it out of my world.

The background for Crimson Skies might be useful for a pulp game too. I'm not really sure where to find good info other than what comes in the box for the table top game.

I'm under the impression that FH will be sold as a supplement, not a stand alone product. If this is true than a list of powers is not needed. Some suggestions might be nice but FREd has many many examples in it already. Maybe a page reference to FREd would be good when explaining concepts or ideas.

not entirely accurate but my mind is fuzzy... --------------- The trail was easy to follow. Even Yor with little worldy experience could see the bloody signs. About a mile out of town, the trio crested a hill to see the caravan, or what remained of it, a short distance away. Three wagons were on the road, their drivers dead in their seats or lying nearby. The yackles appeared dead as well. Several mounds in the tall grass indicated the locations of the guards and their mounts. No living humans could be seen, but the Muskies were very much alive. Four of the man-sized badgers were carrying goods and bodies towards a wood at the top of a hill. A fifth musky, posted as a guard, barked out a warning to his companions. All of them dropped their loot and drew their weapons. "I wonder if I can hit them from here?" Lavenus said launching an arrow towards the nearest musky. The musky which was 25 yards away didn't even flinch as the arrow sailed over it's head. "Nope, guess not." Lavenus continued to fire a series of arrows while advancing on the muskies. Closing his eyes in concentration, Aleister called out words of power and drew symbols in the air with his fingers. A seeping yellow mist gathered around his feet before propelling him towards the wooded hill. Gagging on the foul odor left behind, Yor rushed down the road to engage the muskies bare handed. Whispering prayers to the All Father, his hands and arms become a blur of motion. The musky attacks seemed clumsy and slow. Yor avoided their blows with seemingly no effort, and in seconds left two of them lying in the dirt. Lavenus finding it impossible to hit anything with his bow, dropped it in favor of his staff. His plan to guard Yor's flank came too late as the threat they presented was already neutralized. After landing, Aleister called upon the spirits of the dead to hurl a Musky 21 yards into the grass. He had just finished his spell when a musky barb sprouted from the armor protecting his vitals. The blow made him gasp in pain, but no serious harm was done. Another musky was aproaching quickly, ready to cut Aleister into meaty chunks. Drawing a deep breath, the necromancer once again concentrated and flung out a small mote of greenish light. The musky stopped in it's tracks as maggots began to pour from it's eyes. Seeing that his project was being threatened, Yor lifted his arms to the glory of Saint Sebastian and flew through the air to land nearby. He was determined to make the evil man repent, he couldn't do that if Aleister was dead. His thinking was almost prophetic as the atlatl armed musky threw another dart into Aleister's vitals The musky that was thrown into the grass recovered and ran towards Lavenus looking for an easier kill. The badger-like creature and the horned man were nearly equal in skill trading blow for blow, neither gaining a real advantage. From the top of the hill, Yor thought, "Do I have to save you all?" Taking up a horse stance, breath hissing between his teeth, Yor unleashed a glowing bolt of justice into the head of the musky dueling with Lavenus. Warm bits of brain splashed accross the Toth's face, arms, and chest. With a bloody bit dripping from a horn, Lavenus almost cried... These stains might not come out at all. The necromancer, not satisfied with merely making maggots pour from the eyes of his opponent, cast another spell upon the helpless creature. It's skin began to fall loose about it body as the muscle beneath atrophied to nothing. It fell to the ground in a heap of mewing fur. The last musky released another dart before dashing into the woods. It grunted in satisfaction as the necromancer dropped to ground with yet another shaft in the vitals. Yor dashed into the woods after it. A rustle or branches and a loud thump later had Yor return dragging a musky corpse behind him.

A woman's scream and cries of alarm from the street cause some of the people in the tavern to go out. More out of idle curiosity than than anything else, Aleister, Yor (the monk) and Lavenus follow them outside. Just as their boots hit the street, a large riding bird (Yackle) stops before them. It's rider falls in a bloody heap at their feet. He is unconscious and obviously close to death. "OK monk, show me the way. Show me the power of your god." Aleister declares. Yor kneels before the injured man whispering prayers to Saint Sebastian. Soon his hands begin to glow with a holy golden light. As Yor moves his hands over the man's body, the worst of the wounds stop bleeding and his breathing becomes more regular. The locals recognize him as a caravan guard that regularly comes into town. His injuries hint at why the caravan is overdue. By now more people have gathered around including several members of the militia. Looking at the long barbs that were pulled from the rider's back, Lavenus as well as others mention that this was the work of Muskies. The militia sergeant says "Somebody should find out what has happened to the others." "Yeah you, evil necromancer, prove that you're not evil." taunts the grey skinned Vashon. "So how many of us are going?" Aleister asks. The militia looked startled and afraid "We have to stay and uh..guard the town." "Then give me your mount." "No." "I am surrounded by idiots!" Aleister glares at the crowd before sweeping past them. Yor follows soon after to make sure the white-haired man practices no evil magick. Finding himself with an empty mug and an empty pouch, Lavenus trots after them.

Part of my first session GMing FH. If you folks are interested I'll continue as long as the weekly sessions hold out. ---------------- Lavenus the Most Pretty wearily walks towards Cowscrossing after weeks of stomping through thick forest and swamp. "When I find him, I will take his hide, that bastard! 'Follow the western trail' he says, 'Cowscrossing is a huge city' he says, 'You can't miss it' he says..." Looking at his clothes in dismay, "These swamp stains will take hours to get out! and what if somebody notices the smell?" As it turns out, Cowscrossing is a small town. Calling it walled would be generous, fenced would be a better term as the timber barrier is barely five feet high. The local militia give Lavenus a few odd stares but let him pass through the gates unmolested. Finding a laundry and bath was fairly easy. The cleaning was quick and cheap - just the way he liked it. Feeling better in clean clothes and polished horns, he made his way over to the local tavern for a beer. Plotting revenge requires beer. The Most Pretty had just sat down when a tall white haired man entered closely followed by a huge monk. "Your ways are evil, you must repent and refuse the calling of the dark side!" the monk bellows. "Who said I was an evil necromancer?" "My teachers at the monastery have taught me about such things, and look at you! Black leather, pale skin, white hair, skull like features, you must be an evil necromancer! Besides, he said, " pointing towards a stone skinned Vashon "you're Aleister Carloss the evil necromancer." Taking this as his cue, the grey skinned fellow steps in front of Aleister and puffs out his chest. "Yes, see here everyone! This is the evil necromancer!" the rest of the patrons look on in mild interest but no one supports him. "Do you really want to find out if I'm evil?" Aleister glares down at the four foot tall man "Do ya?" Looking around desperately and finding no support, the stone skinned man, storms off into the street. The monk once again tries to convince the necromancer that his ways are wrong and that he should repent before the one true god. Lavenus ponders the pair and decides revenge can wait. If these two provide enough of a distraction, he might be able to pick up a few baubles from the dirt.

I agree, just because they have it in their grubby little hands doesn't mean they have the on-paper numbers for it.

Re: Feminine-aspected Magic The theory of longer life equalling more children is flawed. A female human has a limited number of eggs. Menopause is a function of running out of eggs, not age (although they are closely related). If extending the life of a woman creates a longer gap between periods, then she can be furtile for a longer time. However if all the youth magic does is keep her looking and feeling young, she'll run out of eggs around age 50, but live until whenever.

Oops. I didn't mean FREE, just that the +DCV is built into the racial package. I could think of several ways to make a little person dangerous in my game and none of them involve big swords. Geeze, I don't even require any limitations on magic...

You could also say that when a character gets stunned he staggers back a hex. I would recommend watching Musa:The Warrior. It has dynamic fight scenes without the acrobatics employed by Jackie Chan and Jet Li.

Play, by it's very nature is active Just started a FtF Fantasy Hero campaign. Playing Fantasy Hero, Pulp Hero and Gamma Hero by email/post Occassionally get in a game of 40k and B5Wars

Not just a munchkin, a poor munchkin. A good munchkin can create a wildly powerful character without resorting to such credibility-straining ideas. Another possibility is that the player is amused only by cartoonish or comic-relief characters. The kind you always see in the movies and on tv, that you really wish weren't there.

Mortally wounded a dragon with a 9mm Beretta once. Fantasy Hero game, but we'd started out as versions of ourselves, with a few modern implements to give us a chance in hell of surviving. Anyway, by a dozen adventures in, we all looked like your usual FH group, I'd been using a magic sword for like ten sessions, and all the ammo was gone...well, almost. GM: "A dragon flies over the hill and comes right towards you. It's out of melee range." Me: "I draw my nine and fire." GM: "You still have that thing?" Me: "Yup. Three rounds left." GM: "Well... okay. Roll it." Critical hit to the vitals. Did I mention we treated firearms as AP in the campaign? Anyway, it fled in fear of my mighty boom stick.

No, of course not. But I'm addressing your earlier claim that the hit location table is too much work. You're smart enough to write a database to handle combat, therefore you are smart enough to memorize a little chart. Of course you have no way of knowing where the blow is going to land. That's where it gets interesting. Do you dodge, or potentially take the hit? Typically this depends on what you know about your opponent's skill level and damage class. Well, what's the problem, then? I'm not afraid of my character getting hit in the face. I don't have him go out and block with it, but I accept the fact that what he does for a living is dangerous. If your players are more comfortable with hit points, then that's fine. I'll never understand it, but fine. This is exactly what I'm talking about. If everyone knows ahead of time that the group is Not Meant To Die Here, then why even play out the combat? Why not just say, "you encounter some guards, and they die, because you're the heroes," and save a lot of time? If Conan knows he's not going to die on page 4, then why read page 4? The first time you read FotR, did you know Boromir was going to survive Moria? Of course not. That's what made it interesting. I don't think I actually have to attend one of your games to know that I would be bored by combat. The other stuff might be great, but every time swords are drawn and it's not the boss, I know my character is in no danger. This turns combat into a meaningless exercise in die-rolling. Okay. Of course, it's not your mind I'm after.

Actually I think he's trying to take advantage of the free +DCV for size while at the same time wielding a weapon that does huge damage. Anyway, I have no problem with making bastard swords require two hands for the little people. The question is, how do you set the STR min for it? Along the same line, if broad swords become the little people bastard swords, how do you determine the STR min for them? I should have realized this would come up, but I also figured that my players would be reasonable. My broad swords have STR min 10 and bastard swords set at 13/15

I think you guys are forgetting that just giving them Shrinking doesn't change their stats. When the giants become small, they lose their giant strength and toughness. Maybe it's just me but I would either use a Multiform, Transform or... Build the big guys using Growth. The Shrinking Machine would have several linked Suppresses (maybe Standard Effect) affecting Growth, and whatever else you attribute to their large size. Maybe Transform would be better because if something happened to the Shrinking Machine, they would suddenly become giant sized again.

There's a special effect component to this matter, though. Frequently the darkness is not just an AD+D patch of black, it's a thick fog or a cloud of dust or a swarm of locusts. Whereas light is usually just light.

Usually three points' worth of life support vs. aging. That's how much it used to cost, anyway. LS has been worked over in 5th but I'm too lazy to get up and go look at the book. Three points is pretty expensive considering that it's just not going to come up in the course of the game except on the off chance that the PCs get hit with some kind of aging spell or attack. What ought to be done is to have immortality as a psych lim. Usually we see elves played as quick humans with pointy ears. But if you were immortal, you'd probably not be real inclined to do anything quickly, nor would you be interested in the affairs of mortals who live and die in the space of a breath.

But at the same time, in the Real World there's no clear distinction between blocking and dodging. Many maneuvers I've learned (well, tried to) were hybrid block/dodge/strikes, like slipping a punch in boxing. We used to allow blocking at -1 OCV to simulate a deflection block, so as not to take damage to the weapon/shield. I've lost characters to that -1 OCV, too. Conversely I've seen kickers break their shins on their targets' elbows or knees which they put out to block. And there's a kickboxing quicktime movie floating out on the net somewhere of a pro kickboxer ending his career in this way when his opponent raised his knee to block. The way his leg flopped around at mid-shin... well, don't watch it if you're squeamish.

You shouldn't have to stretch it that far. Under (I think) 3rd ed. Champions rules it was easy to buy a "base" that encompassed the entire planet, with points left over to subjugate the inhabitants. More seriously, there is precedent for having nation-sized bases... Dr. Doom, ruler of Latvia, is one example. Adding some kind of measure for resources, population, economy and culture to large bases seems pretty logical to me.

Part of the problem is that the hobbit shouldn't be able to reach 15 STR to begin with. The STR range for a hobbit ought to be 0-10, if that. Maybe more like 0-8, with an average of 3. Wait, 3' is short even for a hobbit. And then there's the problem of "where does he grip it", since little hobbit hands aren't going to get a good grip on a nice fat claymore hilt.

A prospective player to my game grumbled that the little people should be able to swing big swords. In my head I was thinking "uh...no. why? because I said so." In answer to his grumbles, I ignored him. Basically speaking, in my game the little people are about 3 feet tall and can have a maximum STR of 15. Two-handed swords have a STR min of 15. Using his munchkin logic, he stated that the little people should be able to swing two-handed swords if they have STR 15. Of course, it is stated in the player guidelines that the little people cannot use two-handed swords. Am I being heavy handed in my ruling? I didn't think so. I couldn't accept a 6 foot man effectively swinging a 12 foot sword, so a 3 foot man with a 6 foot sword is about the same no?

Actually I think the D+D monster whose name generates the most intense pronunciation discussions is "drow".

Interesting idea. But how much Damage Reduction do you get? Do other types of armor provide as much or more Damage Reduction? or do they just provide Defense?