JOHN THE OBSCURE ™

By John Ruch

© 2006

 

Four Percent Chance of Satyriasis: Great Dungeons & Dragons Dice-Roll Tables

 

            Dungeons & Dragons is the greatest game of all time. Perhaps that’s because it’s barely a game at all, just a set of rudimentary rules for organizing the improvisations of one’s own imagination. Roleplaying is now a normative social phenomenon engaged in by people who’ve never even heard of D&D.

            But for those of us who have heard of it, there’s a more intimate measure of greatness. It’s such a good game that you don’t even have to play it; you can have a blast just reading the rulebooks. Something called the “Monster Manual” is clearly just going to be fun to flip through.

            But any D&D rulebook is designed to fire the imagination. Pore over a list of magic items. Break out the crazy polyhedral dice and run through the random dungeon generator in the “Dungeon Master’s Guide.” Look at the Romantic illustrations. Why share your pizza with a circle of gamers?

            My experience goes all the way back to what was then called Advanced Dungeons & Dragons and is now retroactively known as First Edition or 1E. It was a wild, sprawling, over-complicated system that simply reeked of possibilities. Over the years it has been retooled through two-and-a-half successive editions that have added polish and removed soul. 1E is like the first “Star Wars” and 3.5E is like the last.

            1E was wiped out by a corporate takeover that apparently had one main goal in mind: to erase the terms “demon” and “devil” from the game to appease Christian protestors who might threaten income. It just so happened that 2E also simplified the combat system.

            Then Hasbro bought D&D. (Incidentally, this means that the greatest game of all time is now made under the same roof as the worst game of all time—Monopoly, itself a kind of proto-roleplaying game of evil destruction.) This coincided with my generation turning into nostalgists with disposable income, and dark, brooding video games dominating the culture. Thus was born 3E—a sleek, smart, money-grubbing, expensive, devolved-into-a-boardgame, so-overpowered-it-makes-“Diablo”-look-restrained system.

            Don’t get me wrong—D&D and its rulebooks are still great fun. But personality has been lost. The 1E “Dungeon Master’s Guide” read like a grimoire; the 3.5E version reads like the assembly manual for a flat-packed kitchen table. The 1E “DMG” preface opines that, “As this book is the exclusive precinct of the DM, you must view any non-DM player possessing it as something less than worthy of honorable death.” The 3.5E “DMG” offers bland ad-speak like, “Take a look, play the game. We think you’ll like how everything turned out.”

            The author of that 1E “DMG” was the legendary E. Gary Gygax, who wasn’t the only founder of D&D but was the only one who really matters, giving it all its dense, arcane intelligence. His style is many things—ultra-detailed, obscure, loquacious, cranky, opinionated, unreadable, unindexed. But most of all, it’s personal. D&D became everybody’s fantasy only because it started with the vividity of his own. (Having met Gygax on his own doorstep in a legendary adventure of my own, I can attest that he is no polished game exec, but rather truly One Of Us. He also curses if you talk about 3E like a Roman shade summoned and forced to acknowledge AD instead of AUC.)

             At the core of Gygax’s system were complex charts that matrixed fantastical outcomes with rolls of those wild dice. In simplified form, some of the great ones survive today: the “to hit” combat tables, the “saving throw” concept; the magic treasure generation tables, the Wandering Monster Encounter Tables.

            Also pruned but still flourishing are some of Gygax’s weirder works. A lot of people remember his hyper-detailed Disease (Or Disorder) Table, where you could find out if your sickness would affect, say, your mucous membranes or your “generative organs.” Or his breakdown of poisons into “ingestive” and “insinuative.” Or the great Dungeon Dressing tables, where Gary (and his well-thumbed thesaurus) would help you dream up dungeon debris, lab table accoutrements and medieval dining condiments.

            Gygax had even stranger stuff that isn’t as well remembered. In part, that may be because nobody ever read it. His “DMG” was such a rambling, disorganized tome, I took singular pride in knowing exactly where certain topics were covered within. It was like knowing Louisiana law.

            But even I could fail. Did the “DMG” include a random prostitute encounter table? I refused to believe it when a friend recalled it—but there it is. And much, much more.

            The following are some of the great 1E “DMG” tables. They show D&D at its coolest, most ridiculous, most literate, pettiest, prettiest, most ruminative. They show it at its best and its worst, and that its worst is still really fun. You might say tables show that D&D is all about dice, or all about rules. I think these tables especially show what D&D was always about: an excuse for wild minds to dream together.

 

Harlot encounter table

 

            This is the best and the worst. It can only be truly appreciated within the context Gygax provided:

 

“Harlot encounters can be with brazen strumpets or haughty courtesans, thus making it difficult for the party to distinguish each encounter for what it is. (In fact, the encounter could be with a dancer only prostituting herself as it pleases her, an elderly madam, or even a pimp.) In addition to the offering of the usual fare, the harlot is 30% likely to know valuable information, 15% likely to make something up in order to gain a reward, and 20% likely to be, or work with, a thief. You may find it useful to use the sub-table below to see which sort of harlot encounter takes place:

 

01-10  Slovenly trull                             76-85  Expensive doxy

11-25  Brazen strumpet                        86-90  Haughty courtesan

26-35  Cheap trollop                            91-92  Aged madam

36-50  Typical streetwalker                  93-94  Wealthy procuress

51-65  Saucy tart                                 95-98  Sly pimp

66-75  Wanton wench                          99-00  Rich panderer

 

An expensive doxy will resemble a gentlewoman, a haughty courtesan a noblewoman, the other harlots might be mistaken for goodwives, and so forth.”

 

            Unfortunately, Gygax did not explain why you’d never meet a haughty strumpet or a brazen courtesan. However, he did offer valuable advice on other urban street characters: “Drunk encounters are typically with 1-4 tipsy revelers or wine-sodden bums,” and 40 percent of the time when you meet a gentleman he’ll be a “foppish dandy” with “1-4 sycophants.”

 

Table III: Minor Malevolent Effects

 

            Artifacts and relics are the most powerful type of magic items in D&D, offering god-like abilities. In 3.5E, you pretty much just get the god-like abilities. But Gygax was obsessed with checks and balances, and like a Madison of magic items, created a complex, six-part system for artifact/relic powers, including minor and major benign powers; minor and major malevolent effects; prime powers; and side effects. Best of all, you selected or randomly generated such powers yourself. The following is the selection of minor malevolent effects:

 

“A.  Acne on possessor’s face

B.  Blindness for 1-4 rounds when first used against an enemy

C.  Body odor noticeable at 10’ distance

D.  Deafness for 1-4 turns when first used against an enemy

E.  Gems or jewelry found never increase in value

F.  Holy water within 10’ of item becomes polluted

G.  Lose 1-4 points of charisma for 1-4 days when major power used

H.  Possessor loses interest in sex

I.   Possessor has satyriasis

J.   Possessor’s hair turns white

K.  Saving throws vs. magic are at -1

L.  Saving throws vs. poison are at -2

M.  Sense of smell lost for 2-8 hours when first used against an enemy

N.  Small fires (torches, et al.) extinguished when major power used

O.  Small items of wood rot from possessor’s touch (any item up to normal door size, 1-7 days time)

P.  Touch of possessor kills green plants

Q.  User causes hostility toward himself in all mammals within 6”

R.  User must eat and drink 6 times the normal amount due to the item’s drain upon him or her

S.  User’s sex changes

T.  Wart appears on possessor’s nose

U.  Weight gain of 10-40 pounds

V.  Weight loss of 5-30 pounds

W.  Yearning for item forces possessor to never be away from it for more than 1 day if  at all possible

X.  Yelling becomes necessary to invoke spells with verbal components”

 

Wand of Wonder effects table

 

            D&D’s random magic item system is well-known, part of building any treasure horde for the game. But there are all sorts of fun little sub-tables within the treasure lists. A great one came with a great item—the Wand of Wonder, which set off a random magical effect every time it was used. Gygax’s suggestions for a standard Wand of Wonder:

 

“01-10  slow creature pointed at for 1 turn

11-18  deludes wielder for 1 round into believing the wand functions as indicated by a second die roll

19-25  gust of wind, double force of spell

26-30  stinking cloud at 3” range

31-33  heavy rain falls for 1 round in 6” radius of wand wielder

34-36  summon rhino (1-25), elephant (26-50) or mouse (51-00)

37-46  lightning bolt (7” X ½”) as wand

47-49  stream of 600 large butterflies pour [sic] forth and flutter around for 2 rounds, blinding everyone (including wielder)

50-53  enlarge target if in 6” of wand

54-58  darkness in a 3” diameter hemisphere at 3” center distance from wand

59-62  grass grows in area of 16” square before wand, or grass existing there grows to 10 times normal size

63-65  vanish any non-living object of up to 1,000 pounds mass and up to 30 cubic feet in size (object is ethereal)

66-69  diminish wand wielder to 1/12’ height

70-79  fireball as wand

80-84  invisibility covers wand wielder

85-87  leaves grow from target if in 6” of wand

88-90  10-40 gems of 1 g.p. base value shoot forth in a 3” long stream, each causing 1 h.p. of damage to any creature in path—roll 5d4 for number of hits

91-97  shimmering colors dance and play over a 4” X 3” area in front of wand—creatures therein blinded for 1-6 rounds

98-00  flesh to stone (or reverse if target is stone) if target is within 6””

 

Potion Miscibility Table

 

            Anybody can invent a list of magical potions and a table for randomly inserting them into a treasure horde. Only Gygax would also write up a table about what happens if you drink two different potions at the same time, and teach kids the word “miscible” to boot:

 

“Dice Score                  Result

01                                EXPLOSION! Internal damage is 6-60 h.p., those within a 5”

                                    radius take 1-10 h.p. if mixed externally, all in a 10’ radius take 4-                                            

                                    24 hit points, no save.

02-03                           Lethal poison results, and imbiber is dead; if externally mixed, a                                                

                                    poison gas cloud of 10’ diameter results, and all within it must                                       

                                    save versus poison or die.

04-08                           Mild poison which causes nausea and loss of 1 point each of                                        

                                    strength and dexterity for 5-20 rounds, no saving throw possible;                                              

                                    one potion is cancelled, the other is at half strength and duration.                                               

                                    (Use random determination for which is cancelled and which is at                                              

                                    half efficiency.)

09-15                           Immiscible. Both potions totally destroyed, as one cancelled the                                                

                                    other.

16-25                           Immiscible. One potion cancelled, but the other remains normal                                                

                                    (random selection).

26-35                           Immiscible result which causes both potions to be at half normal                                                

                                    efficacy when consumed.

36-90                           Miscible. Potions work normally unless their effects are                                                            

                                    contradictory, e.g. diminution and growth, which will simply                                       

                                    cancel each other.

91-99                           Compatible result which causes one potion (randomly determined)                                            

                                    to have 150% normal efficacy. (You must determine if both effect                                             

                                    and duration are permissible, or if only the duration should be                                      

                                    extended.)

00                                DISCOVERY! The admixture of the two potions has caused a                                     

                                    special formula which will cause one of the two potions only to                                     

                                    function, but its effects will be permanent upon the imbiber. (Note                                             

                                    that some harmful side effects could well result from this…)”

 

Morals table

 

            Gygax provided a way to “easily” create detailed Non-Player Characters for players to interact with. By “easily,” he meant you would roll on 19 different characteristic tables. Of the Traits Tables, the one for Morals may be the most interesting, with its weird recalibration against immorality. 1E was heavily biased toward good deeds, which is probably narratively sound and appealed to me as an innocent teenager; but now this just makes me scratch my head:

 

“Morals (d12)

1.  aesthetic

2.  virtuous

3.  normal

4.  normal

5.  lusty

6.  lusty

7.  lustful

8.  immoral

9.  amoral

10.  perverted*

11.  sadistic*

12.  depraved*

 

*Roll again; if perverted, sadistic, or depraved is again indicated, the character is that; otherwise, the second roll tells the true morals, and the first roll is ignored in favor of the second.”

 

            Apparently, no NPC was ever perverted and sadistic, or aesthetic and amoral.

 

Types of Insanity table

 

            The insanity table is another well-remembered classic, but worth including here for its deliberately bizarro use of retro-Freudian terminology:

 

“Types of Insanity

 

1.  dipsomania*                        11.  mania

2.  kleptomania*                       12.  lunacy

3.  schizoid*                             13.  paranoia

4.  pathological liar*                  14.  manic-depressive

5.  monomania                          15.  hallucinatory insanity

6.  dementia praecox                16.  sado-masochism

7.  melancholia                          17.  homicidal mania

8.  megalomania                        18.  hebephrenia

9.  delusional insanity                19.  suicidal mania

10.  schizophrenia                     20.  catatonia

 

[Asterisks denoted insanities susceptible to the game’s psionic mental attacks—an interesting artifact of the 1970s interest in all things ESP and telekinetic.]”

 

            Dr. Gygax didn’t just provide this list, but detailed diagnoses, making this a kind of “DMG”/“DSM.” Lunacy, for example, was a werewolfism-type disease that caused mania during the full Moon, and during the new Moon only a mindset “perhaps a bit suspicious and irascible.” The idea of a character becoming an alcoholic or S&M lifestyler was my first indication that D&D could be as deeply weird as I hoped and needed it to be.

 

Saving Throw Matrix for Magical and Non-Magical Items

 

            The saving throw—a last-ditch miracle roll of the dice to save a character from near-certain doom—is a core D&D concept, one of the things that makes it inherently magical and that appealed deeply to my love of randomness. Saving throws for player characters are well-known and still a standard part of the game. Lesser known are the saving throws for inanimate objects. Gygax’s matrix juxtaposed exotic substances with exciting events in a way that turned a box of numbers into a sort of reverse-engineered adventure. Just looking at the table still gives me strange ideas. I’ll leave out the strings of numbers and simply provide the categories:

 

Attack Forms:

 

“Acid

Crushing blow

Normal blow

Disintegrate

Fall

Fireball

Magical fire

Normal fire

Frost

Lightning

Electricity”

 

Item Descriptions:

 

Bone or Ivory

Ceramic

Cloth

Crystal or Vial

Glass

Leather or Book

Liquid*

Metal, hard

Metal, soft or Jewelry**

Mirror***

Parchment or Paper

Stone, small or Gem

Wood or Rope, thin

Wood or Rope, thick

 

*Potions, magical oils, poisons, acids while container remains intact.

**Includes pearls of any sort.

***Silvered glass. Treat silver mirror as ‘Metal, soft,’ steel as ‘Metal, hard.’”

 

            Just trying to rationalize the difference between “Fireball” and “Magical fire,” or “Lightning” and “Electricity,” forced a mythological innovation. And such ideas as ivory facing a lightning bolt or a basin of evanescent potion being touched with a disintegration spell drew darkly dramatic pictures in my mind.

 

Grappling Table

 

            The Grappling Table did not have as funny a name as the Pummeling Table, but it had better ultra-detailed outcomes of messy hand-to-hand combat. (Especially with the slash-mark separation that made it look like some Hemingway-esque form of poetic scansion.) To wit (minus the “H.P. or Special Damage Scored” stats):

 

Adjusted Dice Score                Result

under 21                                   waist clinch, opponent may counter

21-40                                       arm lock/ /forearm/elbow smash

41-55                                       hand/finger lock/ /bite

56-70                                       bear hug/trip

71-85                                       headlock/ /flip or throw

86-95                                       strangle hold/ /head butt

Over 95                                   kick/knee/gouge

 

If you’re wondering, or are not a pro wrestler, a “higher percentage hold” always beats a lower form—“a hand/finger lock breaks an arm lock, and so forth.”

 

Monks’ Open Hand Melee table

 

            The monk character class is probably the most overpowered in the overpowered 3E game, essentially becoming invulnerable while able to kill everything else with a single blow. Arguably, the worlds of Jet Li and Arnold Schwarzenegger were never meant to collide. But it must be admitted that in 1E, the monk was even more overpowered, with even a novice character capable of killing with any blow. The one restraint on this power was that it worked only on opponents of “man-size…or smaller.” Realizing that had to be defined in a game world with a high prevalence of various stages of gigantism, Gygax pegged it as a maximum height of 6 feet 6 inches and a maximum weight of 300 pounds. (Thus rendering many of today’s pro athletes immune to death blows.) But another tenet of D&D is that abilities increase with experience; thus, the monk should be able to instantly off larger opponents as his or her skills increase. Ever the systematizer, Gygax proposed the following: “For each level above the 1st, the monk will gain additional stunning/killing ability at the rate of 2 inches of height and 50 pounds of opponent weight per level of experience gained.” He then illustrated this with the Monks’ Open Hand Melee table, a monument of Lombroso-esque pseudo-scientific insanity:

 

“Monk’s Level Opponent Maximum Height                  Opponent Maximum Weight

 

2nd                                6’8”                                                     350#

3rd                                6’10”                                                   400#

4th                                7’                                                         450#

5th                                7’2”                                                     500#

6th                                7’4”                                                     550#

7th                                7’6”                                                     600#

8th                                7’8”                                                     650#

9th                                7’10”                                                   700#

10th                              8’                                                         750#

11th                              8’2”                                                     800#

12th                              8’4”                                                     850#

13th                              8’6”                                                     900#

14th                              8’8”                                                     950#

15th                              8’10”                                                   1,000#

16th                              9’                                                         1,050#

17th                              9’2”                                                     1,100#”

 

            Did Gygax really expect you to know the height of every bugbear you stick into the game to a precision of 2 inches? Do you count the loincloth during the weigh-in? Does anything about this ability or system make a lick of sense? Does it belong in this column as it doesn’t involve dice rolls? Well, this shows D&D at its most laughable. Superficially, it shows how over-mechanized it can become. On a deeper level, its sheer absurdity should’ve indicated to Gygax that the system itself was stupid and a different solution should have been sought, such as breaking down the ability, rather than the opponent, into rationally phased steps. For me, it’s one of those amusing bits of D&D-iana that I would pass over with a laugh and never use. Another brilliance of the game is that I was allowed—indeed, encouraged—to do just that. Gygax’s foremost rule was that there are no rules; it was your game, not his, and you could keep or discard whatever you liked. In this case, he provided an excellent incentive for the latter.

 

Effective Location of Henchman table

 

            Let’s say you need a henchman. (Usually associated with “Batman” villain cannon fodder, this term meant anybody’s cannon fodder in D&D.) Perhaps you wish to “try a media blitz” to find one. Unfortunately, Craigslist is right out. You thus turn to the Effective Location of Henchman table.

 

“Method                                                                       Cost                 Effectiveness

 

POSTING NOTICES IN PUBLIC                              50 g.p.             10%-40%

HIRING A CRIER                                                       10 g.p.             1%-10%

HIRING AGENTS TO SEEK PROSPECTS               300 g.p.           20%-50%

FREQUENTING INNS AND TAVERNS                  special              special”

 

            What’s special about frequenting inns and taverns? Gygax offered a complex answer, but I would suggest that getting majorly wasted would have special results.

            I was always of the mind that any DM who left something as story-affecting as henchman appearances up to pure chance was a lazy ass. But I always appreciated how just about every facet of D&D can come down to a dice roll if you wish. God can play whatever games he wants; DMs definitely play dice with their universes.

 

Values of Other Rare Commodities table (furs)

 

            Sometimes you just need to know how much a muskrat pelt jacket cuff would be worth. Don’t you?

 

“Type               Pelt      Trimming          Cape or Jacket             Coat

 

beaver              2 g.p.   20 g.p.             200 g.p.                       400 g.p.

ermine              4 g.p.   120 g.p.           3,600 g.p.                    7,200 g.p.

fox                   3 g.p.   30 g.p.             300 g.p.                       600 g.p.

marten              4 g.p.   40 g.p.             400 g.p.                       800 g.p.

mink                 3 g.p.   90 g.p.             2,700 g.p.                    5,400 g.p.

muskrat            1 g.p.   10 g.p.             100 g.p.                       200 g.p.

sable                5 g.p.   150 g.p.           4,500 g.p.                    9,000 g.p.

seal                  5 g.p.   25 g.p.             125 g.p.                       250 g.p.”

 

Parasitic Infestation Table

 

            While the aforementioned Disease (Or Disorder) Table of Galen, er, Gygax, is well-remembered, less so is the great Parasitic Infestation Table. It is not so amusing in itself as in its conception. Gygax was a relentless hardcore realist in his own way. Today’s D&D is made for the everybody-goes-to-college era, a career-path game that shoots you rapidly toward 20th level so you can start fighting dracoliches with one arm tied behind your back. Gygax D&D made you roll once a month to see if you got ringworm. And if you were the typical dirty barbarian, you had about a straight-up 15 percent chance. A 1E hero might be fighting with one hand behind his back—to scratch something.

 

Random Book Generator for 14,000-Volume Library

 

            Any fool could have just systematized fantasy fiction and had a fun enough product—indeed, that’s all most alternative RPG systems amount to. But Gygax et al. created a system that was itself creative, that spawned as much as it imitated. Random dice rolls were one of the prime sparks of inspiration. Granted, dice are as old as games themselves, but D&D didn’t just take them at face value or use them to move a pawn; it employed them, in very odd varieties, to create an entire probabilistic universe. D&D doesn’t tell you what an adventure is; it tells you what it might be.

            When I speak of inspiration, obviously the ones being inspired are other players. Gygax’s wacky tables inspired thousands of DMs for better, for worse, and most usually for both. I was certainly among them. I’ve even used D&D dice to determine real life; during my stint as an art critic, I used a d20 to choose exhibits to go see as a routine-breaker. But in-game, randomness and the exotic matrixed in my mind in the form of a giant imaginary library from which I could pluck randomly generated tomes, a fantasy born of inclination, early exposure to “The Name of the Rose,” and the hyperliteracy that plunged me nose-deep into D&D in the first place.

            D&D inspired me to have such dreams, and skilled me in executing them. One of the privileges, or dangers, of DM-ing is being able to project, or inflict, one’s fantasies on other people; so I created a random book generator for a 14,000-volume library I installed in a castle in the first epic-length campaign I wrote. I’ve now played that segment of the game through with three different people (it is a single-player campaign), only one of whom actually plucked books from the library shelves, as I recall, and then only perhaps a half-dozen tomes. I, on the other hand, have probably spent eight or 10 hours enjoying the random book generator by myself, just me and my dice bag. It’s not the greatest thing I ever made; indeed, it’s a rather depersonalized, high/generic-adventure device in a fairly imitative game designed by someone still learning the ropes (or tentacles). But in substance and style, employment and enjoyment, I think it says as much about D&D as Gygax’s 1E originalities do, so I offer it here for edifying comparison—and, in the communal DIY punk-as-fuck spirit of D&D, for incorporation into your game, if your wrist be strong enough to roll it up:

 

*90% of volumes bear no title on spine

*20% in language reader doesn’t know (-1% modification for every language reader knows)

 

Subjects:

 

1-9       History

10-19   Religion

20-29   Art

30-39   Mathematics

40-49   Linguistics

50-59   Science

60-69   Geography

70-79   Literature

80-89   Religion

90-99   Arcana

00        Special

 

[The library was designed with the possibility of offering clues to the plot of my game, in which religion was significant; hence, the weighting toward that subject.]

 

History

 

1-49     “Evidence of the Alignment Wars”

50-70   “Arton’s Guide to Greyhawk”

71-00   “Rise of the Bandit Kingdoms”

The latter details Tyrol and Alcierc’s attack on his minions.

 

Religion

 

1-49     “Blinding Light Prayer Book”

50-70   “Powers of the Death Goddess”

71-00   “The Martyrdom of St. Lacroix”

The second tome gives much information on Kali, the goddess Tyrol worshipped to achieve his present state.

Lacroix was cooked alive by the Vicelords of Thann for whittling cudgels on Thannsday.

 

Art

 

1-49     “Tomb Carvings of the Inner Lands”

50-70   “Renderings of the Devil in Holy Art”

71-00   “How to Create Deathmasks”

 

Mathematics

 

1-49     “Rapid Calculating”

50-70   “Secrets of Numbers”

71-00   “A Survey of Codes and Ciphers”

The latter gives a character +75% chance of breaking Tyrol’s code.

 

Linguistics

 

1-49     “Basic Orcish”

50-70   “The Development of the Common Tongue”

71-00   “The Thieves’ Cant of the Costal Regions”

 

Science

 

1-49     “Elminster’s Bestiary”

50-70   “Weapon Forging”

71-00   “Navigation by the Stars”

The first details the following creatures with 85% accuracy:

 

Quaggoth                     Harguinn Grue

Troll                             Algoid

Giant Crayfish               Succubus

Ochre Jelly                   Bookworm

Astral Deva                  Ascomoid

Gold Dragon                Catoblepas

Owl                              Hollyphant

Hobgoblin                    Masher

Rat                               Killer Frog

Cave Bear                    Pseudo-Undead

 

[Detailing a creature with “85% accuracy” is a vague precision worthy of Gygax himself, if I may say so.]

 

Geography

 

1-49     “Beyond the Sea of Dust”

50-70   “The Major Seas of Oerth”

71-00   “The World of Greyhawk”

 

Literature

 

1-49     “Elvish Songs from the Duchies”

50-70   “The Illiad”

71-00   “The Satanic Verses”

 

Arcana

 

Roll from the Arcane Books list (1-50)

 

Special

 

01        “Book of Vile Darkness”

02        “Libram of Ineffable Damnation”

03        “Manual of Gainful Exercise”

04        “Manual of Quickness of Action”

05-96   Roll from Scroll list

97        “Book of Num the Mad” (containing spells)

98        “Trimia’s Catalogue of Outer Plane Artifacts”

99        Tyrol’s Spellbook

00        “Strahd’s Necromancy” (containing spells)

 

[Spells not listed for whatever concision may be left to this column. The Scroll list was 50 randomly generated magical scrolls; make your own.]

 

Arcane Books

 

[All of these were titles that, if read, divulged various subject-related spells within their texts; spells omitted for a semblance of sanity and encouraging tease to draw up your own lists.]

 

1. “The Good Earth” (clerical, good)

2. “Falzoon’s Dark Formations” (magical, evil)

3. “The Heaven’s Power” (clerical, good)

4. “Notes of a Monk of St. Festus” (clerical, good)

5. “Conjuring and Summoning” by Pratt (magical, good)

6. “Beast Handling” (magical, good)

7. “Bible of the Black Lords” (magical, evil)

8. “Book of Graves” (magical, neutral evil)

9. “Foundations of Nature” (magical, good)

10. “Hymns to Xerbo” (clerical, neutral)

11. “Libram Inquistorium” (magical, good)

12. “Powers of Creation” (clerical, good)

13. “Secrets of Mutability” (magical, good)

14. “The Note-Book of St. Cuthbert” (clerical, good)

15. “Signposts and Wards” (clerical, good)

16. “Num’s Book of Destruction” (magical, evil)

17. “Manipulating the Four Elements” (magical, good)

18. “Travel in the Abyss” (clerical, evil)

19. “Natural Wonders and How to Tap Them” (magical, good)

20. “Hornung’s Realm of Chaos” (magical, evil)

21. “Curious Writings Found in the Rift by M.D.” (magical, possibly good)

22. “Rudd’s Book of Chaotic War” (clerical, neutral)

23. “Control of Life and Death” (clerical, evil)

24. “Pholtus’ Book of Law” (clerical, good)

25. “Spiritual Fortification” (clerical, good)

26. “Spiritual War” (clerical, good)

27. “Beast Mastering” (magical, neutral)

28. “Other Dimensions” (magical, evil)

29. “Plant Lore” (clerical, good)

30. “Xam’s Necromancy” (magical, evil)

31. “Tricks for Entertaining” (magical, evil)

32. “The Basics of Empowerment” (magical, evil)

33. “Protection from Chaos—Some Advice” (magical, good)

34. “Weather Forecasting” (clerical, good)

35. “A Treatise on Conjuring” (magical, good)

36. “Weapons of the Mind” (magical, good)

37. “The Earth Mother” (clerical, good)

38. “Soul Trapping” (magical, evil)

39. “Rary’s Commands” (magical, good)

40. “Manfred’s Invocations” (magical, evil)

41. “Sands of Time” (clerical, good)

42. “On Disorder” (magical, neutral)

43. “Roots and Barbs” (clerical, evil)

44. “The Worship of Evil” (clerical, evil)

45. “Liquidity and the Elements” (magical, good)

46. “The Pilgrim’s Travels” (clerical, good)

47. “Investigations in Liquid” (magical, good)

48. “Enslavement” by Therod Dall (magical, evil)

49. “Travels to Holy Lands” (magical, good)

50. “Rumors and Notations” (magical, good)

 

Posted Nov. 13, 2006.

 

 

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