Erin on GGG 307

I was asked back to Geeks, Gadgets & Guns for episode 307 to wrap up the saga of Hasbro's OGL debacle. Along the way we talked about some other things too, like some of the cool characters I've made for role-playing games. 

The characters I mention:

• Silence Do-Good
• Debarchery
• Padraig O'Malley

Also, here's a late-breaking video from Ian Runkle at Role of Law to discuss in greater legal terms what D&D 5e going to Creative Commons means regarding their IP. 

Hasbro Surrenders

Those of you who enjoyed my rant about the perfidy of Hasbro revoking the meant-to-be-irrevocable Open Game License two weeks ago may be curious regarding what craziness has happened since then. 

As it turns out, it was the craziest thing of all: Hasbro has surrendered. 

https://www.dndbeyond.com/posts/1439-ogl-1-0a-creative-commons

Even though this story broke on Friday, I waited to talk about this because at this point I no longer trust Hasbro to tell me that the sky is blue; I figured this could just as easily have been the Placate before the Assassin Strike. But my favorite gaming lawyer Ian Runkle looked at it and gave it his seal of approval:

   

I don't know how you feel, but that's good enough for me. It remains to be seen if this is enough to restore good will and trust, or if the damage is done. Personally, I think it's the latter, especially since Paizo et all are still going to create their ORC license. This just seems like good business sense to me; who knows what the next 2, 5, 10, or 20 years will bring. 

I'm also willing to wager fairly heavily that 6e D&D will not be published under any form of OGL, and that people who wish to publish 6e compatible material will have to sign a license even more Draconian (heh) that what Hasbro tried to push with OGL 1.1. 

For those curious about the difference between OGL 1.0a and Creative Commons, the short answer is "not much". There's (currently) only one OGL, which means it's easy to find the terms by which you must abide if you want to publish under it. Creative Commons, however, is a suite of licenses with different modules that can be used, or not, as the licensor desires. 

For example, I publish this blog under a Creative Commons Attribution- Noncommercial- No Derivative Works 3.0 License. This means the following:

1. You are free to copy and redistribute (i.e., share) the material in any medium or format. 
2. But to do that, you must do so under these conditions:
• Attribution: You must give me appropriate credit, provide a link to the license, and indicate if changes were made. You may do so in any reasonable manner, but not in any way that suggests the I endorse you or your use.
• NonCommercial: You may not use the material for commercial purposes.
• NoDerivatives: If you remix, transform, or build upon the material, you may not distribute the modified material.
3. Creative Commons also has the No Additional Restrictions clause, which means that you may not apply legal terms or technological measures that legally restrict others from doing anything the license permits.

There are of course variations on this license which don't allow sharing and/or which allow commercial uses. The version under which Hasbro published the 5e SRD is much more complicated than the version I use. Since I have no plans to publish anything commercially for 5e, I'm not even going to read it. If you want to do so, knock yourselves out. 

For a more in-depth explanation of the OGL vs. CC, I direct you to this 90 minute video in which the host talks to Dr. Bob Tarantino, a man who wrote his doctoral dissertation on the (OGL) for his Ph.D. in IP law. 

And with that, I'm going to close with one of my favorite Firefly quotes:

We've done the impossible, and that makes us mighty. 

Erin Rants About OGL 1.1

You've probably heard about the fuckery that Hasbro, via Wizards of the Coast, tried to pull on third party producers of D&D compatible content. If you haven't, well, sit back and relax, because you're going to hear about it from me.

Since January 5th, people have been asking me about my opinion on this topic, and just when I thought I had a handle on it, a new development would emerge and upend things. But this past Friday I was asked to appear on Episode 305 of Geeks, Gadgets, & Guns to discuss the whole debacle, because I'm the roleplaying subject matter expert of my podcast circle. 

In this episode I rant for about 40 minutes about Hasbro's legal fuckery and why they deserve to lose All The Money. 

Let me know if you're one of the folks who would rather read than listen and I'll see about getting a transcript made. 

Show Notes & Spicy Memes

• The Poison Pill GSL

• WotC Halts Sales, Production, Distribution of D&D PDFs

• Let’s Take A Minute To Talk About D&D’s Open Gaming License (OGL)

• Roll of Law videos about OGL:

• One D&D: Are They Getting Rid Of The Open Game Licence As A Cash Grab?

• One D&D Confirms The New OGL Will Be A Cash Grab Aimed At 3rd Party Content Creators

• I Was Wrong About The New OGL 1.1 For D&D -- It's Way Worse Than I Thought

• Copyright Of Game Mechanics -- What Can Wizards Of The Coast Claim?

• OGL 1.1: How To Fight It, And What Would Victory Look Like?

• Dungeons and Dragons Players Cancel D&D Beyond Subscriptions En Masse After Insider Leak, Crash Servers

• Wizards of the Coast Cancels OGL Announcement After Online Ire

• Paizo commits to legal battle against Wizards over the future of Pathfinder and D&D

• D&D maker backs off new licensing rules that led to fan revolt

A Gaming Story

This happened back in 2017, when I decided to run a Pathfinder game using the D&D 3e module The Sunless Citadel, as it had been recently converted to 5e and republished under Tales from the Yawning Portal and the Virtual Tabletop version was available on Roll20. 

The PCs were either first or second level and were pretty beaten up, having just survived a tough fight against the boss of a dungeon level and his minions. The main treasure was in a classic big-ass iron chest. The Rogue checks it and finds it locked and trapped with the traditional poison needle trap. 

Unfortunately, the Rogue also can't roll high enough to disarm it. Taking 10 doesn't hit the DC, and because it's trapped she can't Take 20. But because she's rolling to disable the trap and not pick the lock, so long as she doesn't critically fail she can keep picking at it. 

(Some of you may be asking "Well, didn't they find the key when they killed the boss? Wouldn't that have bypassed the trap?" and the answer is that I honestly don't remember why that wasn't an option. I think it's because in the original adventure the boss isn't listed as having the key on him, so perhaps I ruled that it was hidden and the PCs didn't find it in whichever room it was stashed.) 

After 3-5 failed attempts, each roll edging dangerously close to the dread Natural 1, the Gunslinger decides to do the classic Hollywood tactic of shooting the lock off.  He rolls a Nat 1 and crit fails. 

I rule that the shot has mangled the lock such that it's now unpickable. Oh, and it's still locked.

The PCs then decide that the best course of action is to USE THEIR MELEE WEAPONS to damage the chest enough that they can access the interior.

I dig out the rules for item hardness and hit points, and they proceed to beat the SHIT out of that chest, a la Office Space and the printer.

 

When they finally broke it open, I was laughing so hard I could barely talk. Paraphrased from memory, I said something like this:

"OK, so what you see is... a lot of broken glass that probably used to be potions... which have soaked into the scrolls, making the ink run and ruining their magic. There's a couple hundred gold inside, but yeah, you destroyed 80% of your treasure."

The players learned a valuable lesson that day.

Guest Appearance on Geeks Gadgets and Guns

It took them a while to post the darn thing, but my guest appearance on episode 174 of the Geeks Gadgets and Guns podcast has finally been published!

Smile as I ramble on nerdily about Dungeons & Dragons/Pathfinder!

Thrill as I verbally trample people who try to interrupt me!

Titter salaciously as I compare a role-playing game to a consensual BDSM scenario!

Strap in, gang. It's nearly two hours of hard-core nerding.

D&D Alignments Seen Through a Pseudo-Nolan Matrix

If you've ever played D&D or Pathfinder, you know that sometimes alignments are difficult to wrap one's head around. If you're a Game Master, you've likely had to explain them to a new player, which can be difficult as the explanations are rather longwinded.

Given today's political climate, I thought it would be interesting to define the alignments along David Nolan's political spectrum chart.

Morals
Evil: Selfish.
Good: Selfless.
Neutral: I do whatever I need to do.

Ethics
Chaotic: Individualist.
Lawful: Statist.
Neutral: Stop bothering me.

So put them together and this is what you get:

Lawful Good: The state is more important than any one person, including me. I'll give my life to defend it.
Lawful Neutral: The state IS. It needs no reason to exist other than its existence.
Lawful Evil: The state is more important than anyone except me. I'll use its power to get what I want.

Neutral Good: I'll use whatever means necessary to accomplish the most good.
Neutral: I do whatever I need to do. Stop bothering me.
Neutral Evil: I'll use whatever means necessary to accomplish whatever I want.

Chaotic Good: The individual is more important than the state. If necessary, the state should die to protect the rights of the individual.
Chaotic Neutral: Smash the state! Stasis kills, be dynamic!
Chaotic Evil: State or no state, I am more important than you. You should die to make me happy.

I know that this glosses over lots of fine points and fiddly bits that grognards love, but I really like this simplification for a "root level" of alignment. Everything else is just derived from this.

Thoughts?

The DM's Lament

I need 6 more hours in my day in order to get stuff done. Can anyone tell me where I can go to get a 30 hour day? Maybe start a petition at Whitehouse.gov or Moveon.org?

At any rate, this has been another typical week of being tired and working hard with little to show for my efforts. I'm even late in posting a silly little video that I should have done on Wednesday night.

Not only is this funny and fits within my experience as a DM, but the tone of tired frustration nicely matches how I feel in Real Life.

Spontaneous Casters in Pathfinder

I have a weird relationship with spontaneous casters in Pathfinder: on the one hand, I think they're nifty; on the other hand, I think making spontaneous magic dependent upon the Charisma stat of the caster is one of the dumbest things I've ever read.

I mean, I get that Bards are charisma casters...

... I'm not arguing that they shouldn't be. I am in fact totally on board with having Bards and Skalds use Charisma as their spellcasting attribute, because being charismatic is what those classes are all about. They've essentially learned how to weaponize "being charming".

I'm just saying that I don't see why Sorcerers use charisma when Wizards who have the same damn spell list use intelligence. Furthermore, Sorcerers are intuitive casters; they just use inherent talent to will magic into existence rather than learned knowledge or skill. Which attribute handles intuition? It's certainly not Charisma! No, it's Wisdom, which is also the basis for Will Saves and therefore directly measures willpower. 

Honestly, if I had my way, Sorcerers would use Wisdom -- but that's the stat which Divine casters use. Does that mean Divine casters ought to be spontaneous casters, too? If someone wanted to play a regular cleric who prepares spells in the morning, should that mean they use Intelligence? And it goes around and around my skull like this for a while until I can't take it anymore, and I just give up.

I don't know why I can't just accept things as they are. This just BUGS me, and I can't let it go, but I can't figure out a way to fix things.

At this point, the only way I can think to make this work without inventing and entirely new stat whole cloth would be to make a spontaneous caster's class level the spellcasting attribute, as character level = character growth and the increased puissance that comes from practice. However, this would horribly hose those classes, because other classes use their key attribute to get bonus spells, set the level for resisting effect, overcoming spell resistance, etc.

The easiest solution would be to just eliminate Sorcerers and Oracles altogether, but I don't like that option either.

ARRGH. Help, please.

Petty Gods: No Longer Vaporware

Petty Gods Revised & Expanded Edition is a 396-page extravaganza of Old School goodness.

Expanded Petty Gods Compendium provides Old School referees with a slew of new, weird minor deities and godlings, for use in rounding out their campaigns. This book includes information for 327 petty gods, 116 minions, knights & servitors, 12 cults, dozens of divine items & new spells, plus a host of other petty-god-related gaming material!

I'm proud to say that I've left grubby fingerprints in this book. Not only does it contain Rasoob, the once-great God of Bronze (since eclipsed by gods of iron and steel), it also has within its august pages the magnificent countenance of Manidono, the Slacker God.

All of this can be had for the princely sum of FREE if you get the PDF from RPGNow. Alternately, you can get it in softcover for $13.22 or hardcover for $22.47.  (The prices are weird because all this is at cost -- no one is getting paid for this as it's our gift to the gaming community.)

Thanks and gratitude go to Greg Gorgonmilk and Richard LeBlanc, without whom none of this would have happened. They rescued the Petty Gods manuscript from limbo and turned it into a magnificent magnum opus of D&D geekery. 

And I'm the person who contributed the deific equivalent of a Flumph to the mix. 

This looks really, Really, REALLY COOL

These were brought to my attention and they look super-nifty keen.

Similar in use to the Drama Deck from TORG, but made for D&D/Pathfinder, they allow a player to salvage a run of crappy luck with a one-time use card. And they can be given out as rewards for good roleplaying or being clever without worrying about breaking the game.

It's also similar to 7th Sea's Drama Dice mechanic, whereby whenever a player uses a card to improve a roll, that resource is turned over to the Game Master to be used to make the players' lives more complicated.

Plus there are ways to "power up" by trading in a set number of cards to draw from the Epic Hero Deck.

Everyone who plays D&D or Pathfinder really should consider backing this project -- and it's already fully funded, so you aren't going to get a broken heart by supporting a lost cause! I am looking forward to getting my hands on some and seeing what kind of change it brings to a game.

Go to their Kickstarter page and see what else you can unlock!

Ramdamalla, Petty God of Drama and Miscommunication

Special thanks to Jeff Rients, Faoladh, and Kapitan Von for help with this Pettiest of Petty Gods.

Name: Ramdamalla

Symbol: An inverted pyramid balanced on its tip,
looking simultaneously like an eruption (such a geyser or a volcano) and also like a great weight about to fall.

Alignment: Chaotic Evil



Summary

Ramdamalla is the third leg of an unofficial triumvirate of petty gods that contains Manidono and Dickanus and might, in modern times, be called "Deities of the Postmodern."  Alongside the Slacker God and the Asshole God, Ramdamalla is the Drama God -- no, not the drama of theater, but the petty dramas and stupid arguments and useless conflicts that afflict everyone's lives. However, while Dickanus is sophomorically self-centered and Manido doesn't care much about anything, Ramdamalla takes a perverse glee in ruining the everyday lives of people just for laughs. 

Ramdamalla is sometimes referred to as "That Motherfucking God," as speaking its name tends to invoke its attention. It has no one preferred form; rather, it is a mass of chortling chaos that shifts forms as whim and circumstance dictate. Known avatars in the past have been a rockslide, a seething mob, a torrent of vomit, a mountain of excrement, a herd of alpaca, and a grotesque troll. 

Worshippers

"That Motherfucking God is invoked by accident and served by fools."

 -- old proverb

No sane individual worships Ramdamalla; like many deities of ill-fortune, it is propitiated in the hopes that it will stay away from those who make the proper offerings. Those who do worship it (mostly its clergy, although there are always a few "champions" of Ramdamalla who terrorize cities, towns and countrysides) are unstable or disturbed in some manner; usually one of the various forms of sociopathy, although masochism is also common.

It is worth noting that Ramdamalla does not specifically endorse violence (but neither does it disapprove); it is not a god of murder or warfare. Neither is it a parallel to Eris, whose portfolio of Strife also encompasses the concepts of Chaos and "breaking down the established order." No, the only concepts important to Ramdamalla are arguments, hurt feelings, and wasted energy; feuding cliques between schoolchildren over clothing or popular culture are just as important to it as as fighting between politicians in the halls of government. To Ramdamalla, we are all just ants scurrying about after our anthill was kicked away, and it finds our frantic attempts to repair our lives to be humorous antics.

There are no grand temples to Ramdamalla; even among its clergy, there is too much discontent and misunderstanding to accomplish such a thing. (Centuries ago, there was a major schism over whether to call themselves "Ramdamallans" or "Ramdamallites.") Instead, shrines to the Drama God are found in caves, or basements, or other "hole in the wall" locations, usually maintained by a single priest. There may occasionally be an apprentice being trained by the priest, but inevitably there will be a falling-out between the two and one of them will leave.

There are no feast days or festivals; priests worship their deity through starting fights and enabling drama, all while declaring that they wish to be left alone. Ironically, Ramdamalla doesn't even need worship, or even followers; it gains its strength from factionalization and petty fights, with which humans provide it aplenty.

"Why would anyone be a priest of this god that ruins lives?" Look in a mirror, you fool. -- another proverb, this one attributed to Ramdamallan scripture.


Invocation and Abilities

Don't try to invoke Ramdamalla; you'll succeed, and then you'll be sorry.

There's no table to roll, no percentage chance to see if it reacts well to you. If you speak its name, it will bestow its attention on you, and it will never be a good thing. The DM is encouraged to inflict the pettiest, most soap-operatic thing that can happen to the invoker -- and his friends and/or compatriots, if possible.

Instead, Ramdamalla can be made to go away (un-invoked, if you will) by one of two methods:  ignoring it, or giving it attention.  There is a 50% chance that the method chosen is the correct one; the other will only make the situation worse.

Attention: This is best accomplished through ritual sacrifice, whereby the petitioner seeks to symbolically substitute objects of value for time that would be spent dealing with the problem. Every 100 gold pieces' worth of sacrificial items (money, jewels, livestock, magical items) equals a 10% chance that Ramdamalla will be satisfied and go away. A blood sacrifice can also be performed; sacrificing a hit point (the petitioner's own, not that of other beings) also equals 10% chance of propitiation -- but this damage must heal on its own, not via magic or potions, or else the sacrifice will not be considered favorable and the trouble will come back to the petitioner, doubled in intensity. Blood and goods may be combined in a single sacrifice, if desired.

Ignoring it: There is a commonly-known gesture that is believed to shield the performer from Ramdamalla's attention. By clapping one's hands together in front of one's chest, and then pushing palms-outward in the shape of a V, the drama is believed to be redirected back to its source.  However, this gesture (known as the Niemo Jemałpy in an obscure dialect) usually exacerbates the problem as the conflict is redirected onto itself.



The Author wishes to point out that this entry is not aimed at any one individual -- claps hands, "Niemo Jemałpy", etc -- but rather came to fruition because it seems like the world is going to hell and the internet, blogosphere, Facebook etc are turning on themselves and becoming whirlpools of strife and stupid arguments.

[AFHOTWTTGS] Kapt. Von vs. The Generic D&D Setting

"Look at us. We're an age so steeped in escapism that we manage to find mundanity in something that doesn't exist, and never will, no matter what your Otherkin friend might say. Why is it accepted fact that elves fire arrows and commune with trees? That was Tolkien's thing - without him, elves would just about be qualified to sell Rice Krispies - and he made dwarves all wear braids and beards and have battleaxes... Are we all but children, playing on the same swing set while J. R. R. is the grumpy dad watching from the park bench and trying not to get aroused?"
-- some other British beardy-weirdy gaming type who is funnier and more successful than me because he's into console gaming and yellow backgrounds

Libellous comments at the expense of Professor Tolkien aside, the man has a point. One of the things that's always ground my gears about D&D is the rather slavish adherence to Appendix N - and yes, yes, there's nothing inherently wrong with the four Tolkienan races, Vancian magic, stealing all your best lines from Robert E. Howard or any of the other flim-flam that fantasy indulges in. I can see the argument for them being the default choice for those players out there who are not in and of themselves predisposed to arguing about the novelty or otherwise of fantasy settings, for whom 'fantasy' is either Middle Earth or, I guess, in these modern times, Westeros.

(As an aside: I'll take a setting with politically interesting humans, ominous armies of undead or whatever amassing on the far side of a capital-W Wall built by our ancestors and patrolled by bastards of all stripes, and dragons that actually do things, thanks. Game of Thrones has a lot to answer for, not least the sudden rise of everyone sticking 'of House' between their characters' names and incompetently running political storylines all over my WoW-RP server... but Westeros itself has potential. ANYWAY.)

There's already quite enough buy-in crap with RPGs - a hobby where you have to fill out forms before you can participate is always going to impose buy-in problems, and if you have to recruit newbies as often as I do you become very, very good at streamlining that process of getting people into the game - without asking people to negotiate a quagmire full of unfamiliar choices. A player like this one is not going to have the patience to wade through your setting bible before they even choose who they want to be - hell, I'm not going to and I am naturally predisposed to playing these games.

'Elf', 'dwarf', 'orc' and - sigh - 'hobbit' have a certain cachet. They are recognisable: they are, as some smug bastard who nevertheless says halfway clever things about D&D now and then puts it, things you can refer to and generally expect people to recognise and have some idea about, regardless of what those people get up to at the weekend.

However. The new players I tend to recruit are people who already know Fantasy and are often in similar positions to me; they look at post-Tolkien generic 'elf' and 'dwarf' and bloody 'hobbit' as concepts, yawn hugely, and ask why we can't play Race for the Galaxy instead. Right now, as I snuffle around the prospect of doing a spot of D&D over the summer holidays, I find myself wondering about how to handle these core notions and the concept of buy-in. My instincts are pulling me every which way. My options, as I see it, are as follows.

1. Roll with the generic D&D experience, regardless of my contempt for it, and save any bright-eyed ideas I might have about My Fantasy Setting for some more appropriate medium.
   
2. Keep the elves and dwarves on board, mechanics unchanged, but alter their manifestations within the setting. My elves are urbanised and virtually extinct, bred in with humans (lots of half-elves), but pure-blood ones occasionally pop up as a kind of parasitic supra-aristocracy in 'high magic' parts of the setting, with playable ones being minor scions on some eldritch elf business of their own; my dwarves are heavy metal theocratic fascists who live in an infernal underworld, summon fire demon things to do their dirty work, and occasionally throw up someone who's not a complete gobshite and runs off to be an adventurer instead. My hobbits are absent without leave because this isn't Middle-Earth and I insist on drawing the line somewhere.
   
3. Say 'sod the lot of them' and maybe allocate the same niches to things I find more interesting, or maybe not. Rakshasa are interesting; they wander into your reality from their own and act like they own the place. Goblins are interesting; the little blighters get everywhere and anyone who's seen and likes Labyrinth should see the merit in a playable one. Hamakai (vulture-headed geezers I might have stolen from Fighting Fantasy and who did something catastrophic and stupid to their civilisation a long time ago) are interesting. Even drow are quite interesting (matriarchal, highly stratified but still 'chaotic' society, murder as legitimate tool of advancement, deranged theocracy, slave-taking... I can work with that) and are more uniquely D&D than anything nicked from Tolkien. Humans are... not especially interesting but feel more or less mandatory so that there's something pretty familiar, something to contrast the fantasy elements against.

1 would be accessible and reassuringly 'this is the D&D thing I've always wanted to try' for the newbies' sake, 2 seems like an unfortunate compromise since the whole point of having elves and dwarves is that you know what they're like, and 3 is intrinsically cool but I worry about creating buy-in issues.

What would you do if you were me?

Studio Apt, all mod cons, corpse hatch, murder room

So this guy rents an apartment....

Discovers a trap door...

Opens it, finds stairs underneath...

Goes exploring, finds  a secret passage underneath...

And finds... well, go see for yourself, but I maintain that's either a vampire's crypt or a sacrificial murder room.  The soft, freshly disturbed earth is particularly terrifying.

On the one hand, this is incredibly cool, as the renter has just doubled his usable space without increasing his rent at all. And if you're a goth, or a D&D gamer, you have instant ambiance!

On the other hand, I have such a hyperactive imagination that this would scare the living shit out of me. I'd have to, at the minimum, park an anvil on the trapdoor.  Even if I don't believe in ghosts and vampires, my subconscious mind likes to entertain the possibilities thereof.  And that doesn't even take into account vermin, mold, and other nastiness which might make it's way up... and are you CERTAIN there isn't another way in?

It's very cool, but I don't think I could live there.

Dickanus, the Asshole God

http://www.funnyjunk.com/funny_pictures/3482241/HD+DickButt/

Name: Dickanus (pronounced Dick Aynuss, although the more sophisticated Dick In Uss is also permitted)

Symbol:  A man with a penis coming out of his anus

Alignment:  Chaotic Neutral




Summary
Dickanus is neither a trickster god, nor a god of humor. Both of these concepts are too subtle for him. He is the petty god of all things puerile [don't you mean penile?], juvenile, and base; of things which would make adolescents snigger, but cause adults to sigh wearily and roll their eyes in frustration.

Dickanus is the god of toilet humor [poop!] and of gratuitous nudity [poop comes from buttholes!]. He is the peeping tom who drills holes in walls [glory holes wooo!] and who steals underwear. He is the inspiration for anatomically improbable graffiti, the source of disgusting noises made when someone bends over or sits down, and the king of tea bagging [balls on your chin]. He is the god of thinking getting kicked in the crotch is a fount of boundless mirth. He is the eternal virgin who endlessly masturbates [leaving crusty pillows in his wake]. And he will never, under any circumstances, allow anyone to be serious [dickhead says what?].

He is, essentially, the patron deity of prepubescent boys and what they think is funny. He would be a force to be reckoned with were it not for the fact that most (though not all) of his believers outgrow such things by adulthood. Those who are still so inclined usually move on to worshiping greater gods, such as those of love or procreation (or in extreme cases, gods of pain and violence and death).

Relations with Other Gods [heh heh heh, "relations"]
While most deities just ignore the Asshole God, he has a special relationship with gods of love and fertility. To whit: he is a creeping creeper who creeps on them, and in return they loathe him, sometimes violently. (For inspiration, see any PG-13 movie involving social outcasts getting back at snobby cheerleaders.)

Dickanus is frequently seen in the company of Manidono, as their worshipers often have significant overlap. Unlike Manidono, however, Dickanus has an active clergy and congregation.


Worshipers
Let's be honest here: if you worship a god named Dickanus, you're pretty much an asshole by definition.

That said, there are two distinct parts of a Dickanal congregation.The first group consists of overly-hormonal juveniles who think that anything rude and disgusting is hilarious, who will do anything to catch a glimpse of a bare breast, and for whom "That's what she said" and "Your mother" are practically liturgical responses. They are the ones who perform the basic rituals which give Dickanus his power:

• Spying on women in bathhouses
• Giving wedgies (bonus if it results in skidmarks)
• Knocking on doors and disappearing
• Leaving sacks of flaming dung burning on doorsteps
• Making fart noises whenever someone bends over
• Generally being assholes to all and sundry

They perform these rituals to pass the time, and hopefully earn enough favor with the god that they are rewarded with masturbatory material [like your mom]. They usually drift away from the church about the time they realize that their rituals are actively preventing them from getting anywhere with females who might actually be interested in them. While female Dickanusites are possible, they are rare [pink on the inside, like their crotch], and are usually even more disgusting than their male counterparts (a trait that keeps them from being harassed by the rest of the congregants). 

The second, smaller group of Dickanus worshipers are angry, bitter outcasts who have no social skills and seek revenge upon the world in general. They are not the broken-hearted, for those may still seek succor with love goddesses; no, these are the angry "permanent virgins" who are ugly in spirit, if not in flesh, and who blame the world and everyone in it for their loneliness and social ineptitude [and let’s face it, you would be bitter, too, if you were a small dickanus]. It is this latter group which goes on to become Dickanal priests, and they are rewarded by becoming excellent creepers, voyeurs, and assholes. [Want to know the three most offensive words in Common? 'God's Bleeding Cunt.']

Dickanal priests must walk a fine line of annoyance. Too much (or too twisted) and they risk being run out of the community by townfolk sick of their antics; not enough and they lose favor with their god. They must be just enough of an asshole to be irritating [like your crotch rash!], but not so much that it becomes worth the time and effort to deal with them.

Dickanus has only one prohibition for his worshipers:  Do no permanent harm (except to enemies of the faith, or in self-defense), for a dead victim is someone who cannot be irritated or creeped upon again. [Jizz stains on their clothes are permanent enough.]  Too often, a Dickanal priest has taken things too far and has descended to the depths of molestation or rape, and it is in those moments when the torch and pitchfork wielding mob catches up to them that Dickanus shows his displeasure by stripping all powers from his former priests [total dick move, bro].

Invocation and abilities

Dickanus cannot be invoked; he is far too much of a asshole to actually show up [probably too busy polishing his knob]. He will, however, often give his worshipers a special ability and then watch the proceedings using his divine powers of clairvoyance. Anyone being viewed by Dickanus is automatically aware that they are being creeped upon, but also knows that they are powerless to stop it [shake it baby, unf unf unf].

His most common blessing is giving the invoker the ability to make an opponent literally soil themselves at an inopportune moment.  Other blessings include:

• Clairvoyance (typically to spy on people who are bathing or disrobing)
• Ventriloquism (to embarrass someone, usually an authority figure, with rude or disgusting noises while in public; but making it seem they are swearing or insulting others is also a popular choice)
• A Curse upon anyone who rejects them (this power is available only to priests of the Dickanal order)

Any recipient of Dickanus' blessings gains a mild affliction for twice as long as the blessing lasts:  a disgusting case of acne, poorly timed and uncontrollable wet farts, and awkward erections are all common [all your erections are awkward!].

Appearance and reaction
Dickanus is rarely encountered, but if he manifests he appears as a sleazy male of indeterminate age -- he is a dirty old man, a hormonal adolescent, and a chortling prepubescent all at once. While he is technically a high-level thief, all his skills are geared towards skulking, creeping and stealing; he will run away instead of fighting (preferably after annoying the PCs).

Upon meeting the Asshole God, roll 2d6 for reaction:

• Result of 2-4:  All male PCs grow breasts and all female PCs grow penises. (Gender-neutral PCs grow both.) This feels highly weird and makes their armor incredibly uncomfortable, giving them a -2 to all rolls until either the curse is removed or 1d6 days pass. 
• Result of 5-6:  All the PCs are highly skeeved out and have an immediate compulsion (as per a geas) to take a hot bath as soon as possible in order to wash the creep off of them. Any females or elves of any gender [elves give me the weirdest boners] so affected will be unable to shake the notion that they are being watched while they bathe. Anyone who does not bathe temporarily loses 1d6 points of Charisma. 
• Result of 7: Unbeknownst to the PCs, they are each granted a wish, but it will interpreted in the most perverted and assholish way possible. When their wish is granted, they will know who it's from and why. 
• Result of 8-10:  
• All fighter types:  Weapons become limp and flaccid, unless they're already flaccid, like whips or flails, in which case they become startlingly erect. Damage does not change, but all weapons are -1 to hit. 
• All magic types: Rude graffiti covers scrolls, grimoires and prayer books. All spells take twice as long to memorize. 
• All religious or charismatic types:  They reek of body odor, make farting sounds when bending or reaching, and cannot talk without having their speech peppered with profanity. 
• All sneaky types: Gain a +2 bonus to all rolls that would be relevant in a panty raid. In addition, all underwear within a 20' radius appears in their possession (bags/ backpacks/ pockets.)
• All of these effects are removed after 48 hours or Remove Curse.
• Result of 11: Everyone within 100' of Dickanus defecates themselves in the noisest, wettest, most explosive manner possible. -2 to all rolls due to itching and -1d6 points of Charisma until they can clean themselves. 
• Result of 12:  Everyone feels like they've been kicked in a very sensitive and intimate area and suffer 2d6 damage. If this reduces them to 0 hit points, they are not dead; they merely wish they were, as they writhe on the ground in agony. Anyone seeing this thinks it's hilarious and loses 1d6 turns from hysterical laughter. 

Petty Divine Relics

For the upcoming Petty Gods supplement.


The Sword of Rasoob

Green with corrosion, this sickle sword looks absolutely ancient. Made of bronze, it is heavier than a steel sword of identical size, and its edge has been blunted over time (-2 penalty to hit and damage). However, these penalties may be overcome through certain ritual actions, which impart a cumulative bonus to the sword for each act:

• Remove all objects of iron or steel from the wielder's person:  +2
• For each member of the party who similarly forsakes iron and steel: +1 per party member
• Ritually sacrifice magical items of armor or steel in a sanctified forge: +1 per each +1 of sacrificed object.

With each bonus gained, the Sword of Rasoob becomes sharper, lighter, and less corroded, until it is a gleaming bronze khopesh of incredible sharpness. All bonuses are lost if the wielder or party members equip themselves with iron or steel, or if the Sword of Rasoob is placed beside weapons containing that metal.

Once the Sword of Rasoob has reached a bonus of +5 to hit and damage, additional abilities are unlocked:

• Remove tarnish from all non-ferrous objects at will. 
• Expend a +1 bonus to rust ferrous metals, as per a rust monster, with a successful strike. 
• Expend a +2 bonus to cast flesh to stone (bronze, in this case) as if an 11th level magic-user.

If Rasoob has been summoned, he will always be wielding this weapon at full (+10) power. If he is defeated, it will have no starting bonuses. If he lends it to a PC in whom he finds favor, it may have a random number (1d4) of bonuses.


The Half-Assed Relics of Manidono
Manidono leaves semi-powerful relics of dubious use in his wake like crumbs from a child's lunch. They only last for a short time after leaving his presence.

The Couch of Manidono is any place where the petty god has chosen to rest. Anyone sitting in it must succeed in a save vs paralysis, or be unable to leave due to lack of desire. Those afflicted will ask others, usually in a whine, to bring them food and drink or do other tasks. In cases where they must move, they will wheedle and beg others to carry them and their couch. However, while confined to the chair, they will not suffer from long-term effects such as illness, starvation, etc, as they literally never get around to dying.

The Snack of Manidono is the leftovers of any foodstuff that the petty god has enjoyed. Eating it will result in fingers and tongue of unnatural coloration, and a desire for more of the same. All other food and drink will seem tasteless in comparison, and the fingers will stain clothing and other porous substances, for a day.

The Garb of Manidono is any piece of clothing that the petty god has touched or worn. It will protect from environmental hazards (cold, fire, poison, etc) but it will also cause the loss of 2d6 points of Charisma for as long as it is worn. Caution is warranted to wearers of the Garb of Half-Assery: they never know when it will stop being magical.

The Pipe of Manidono is, like, this thing, you know? And you suck on it? And whoah. Visions, dude. Of the future. You want to know the future? Okay: Ask me a question.

Roll 1d4:

1. Absolutely, dude.
2. No way, dude. 
3. Maybe, dude. 
4. Beats me, dude. Ask again later.

All of these answers are 100% accurate but annoyingly vague.

Rasoob, Petty God of Bronze

Picture courtesy of Eden Photos. 

Name:  Rasoob
Symbol: a Statue, often broken or neglected
(formerly a sword)
Alignment: Neutral






Pity the fallen god Rasoob.

For centuries, he reigned supreme as a god of warfare, as everything -- weapons, shields, armor, even chariots -- was made from bronze. From the lowliest knife to the finest sword, if you wanted a metal tool, it was made from bronze.

Bronze meant war. Bronze meant agriculture. Bronze meant tools. Bronze even meant health, for not only were its users able to feed and defend themselves, but "bronzed" also means "to have a tanned appearance that suggests good health."

Rasoob had it all: power, glory, a thriving priesthood, a seat at the head of the table of the gods, even lesser gods who followed along on his coattails -- gods of the forge, and of the hearth, and even a petty goddess of decorative brass, Lytessa, who got in mostly because brass looked like bronze.

Then the inevitable happened:  Just as Rasoob supplanted the gods of flint and obsidian, so too was he supplanted when a mortal discovered the secret of smelting iron.

Overnight (as the gods calculate things), he was worthless. Iron shields turned away bronze swords, but bronze breastplates were no match for iron spear-tips. Iron was stronger and lighter than bronze, and its only weakness -- vulnerability to rust -- was mitigated when the petty god of tin (Rassob's former shieldbearer) alloyed himself with the god of iron. This is how the word "irony" came about.

These days, Rasoob is but a shadow of his former self. Iron has become Steel, and is firmly entrenched within the highest levels of the pantheon, ruling over war, the forge, and tools. All of Rassob underlings have forsaken him -- even Lytessa. Brass is shinier and more decorative than bronze, and is used in the trumpets that kings and generals love so much. Promoted to status of lesser goddess and patron of  bards, she now lords over him the way he used to lord over her, as bronze has been relegated to the portfolio of Things That Once Were Useful But Now Are Mostly Decorative.

He is also the god of statuary:  motionless idols to past glory, left to the mercy of the elements and for birds to foul with their droppings. The irony is not lost upon him.


Abilities:
Rasoob may be summoned easily, for he does not have many duties (nor, in fact, many worshipers.) He is occasionally called upon by sculptors, and more frequently profaned by serfs cleaning bird filth from old statues. He is far more likely to respond to anyone involved in actively destroying pieces of iron or steel than to those working with bronze.

When summoned, his powers are limited. He can turn mortals into bronze (as per Flesh to Stone) and back, although the frequency and scope of this ability is dubious due to his waning power. He can, on rare occasions, induce rust in iron objects. He can also clean and restore bronze objects at will.

Rasoob's main strength is in his skill as a warrior (10th-level Fighter). He appears as an old, grizzled soldier with leathery skin and antique bronze armor and weapons. If called, he will gladly throw his avatar into battle for a glorious, suicidal charge -- assuming the caller isn't using any hated iron. If iron or steel is present, Rasoob has a chance of entering a berserk state and attacking everyone until dead.


(If you're getting the impression of a grouchy, "Get off my porch" god, who nevertheless aches for one last battle, I've done my job.)

Manidono, Petty God of Half-Assed Effort

Over two years ago, I submitted this to Jamie Maliszewski for inclusion in Petty Gods. Since then, the project has been tabled indefinitely, his website Grognardia hasn't been updated for over a month, and he hasn't replied to any of my emails.

From this, I conclude that the project is vaporware, and if I want my submission to see the light of day I'll have to print it here.  I figure that two years after the fact, with the editor AWOL, the rights have reverted back to me (even though I never signed them over -- or signed anything for that matter).

In accordance with this, and the fact that my mom has surgery tomorrow and the rest of the week is going to be half-assed at best, I present you with our mascot and sponsor:

Mr. Maliszewski,

I know that you said you preferred a serious tone for Petty Gods, but I figure that every monster book needs at least one loser monster. Manidono, the Petty God of slackers, half-assed effort, and loose change, is this book's Flumph.

Art by Barking Alien, who missed the memo on half-assery.

Name: Manidono
Symbol: An unmade bed
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral*

Created by the halfhearted, momentary worship of people who desperately desire (if only for only a few moments) that their current problem goes away, Manidono is the petty god of slackers, half-assed effort, and loose change. He has no organized priesthood, no formal temples, and no official holy days, because those things would take dedication, foresight, and effort, all of which are anathema to Manidono. He is called upon only in moments of duress (and at no other time) by people too lazy to do any real work and who expect a quick and effortless miracle.

If Manidono can be bothered to answer the prayer of a supplicant (25% chance), it usually manifests in the form of a handful of pocket change: 3d6 copper and 1d6-3 silver pieces. However, if the supplicant is truly lucky (rolling a 100 on percentile dice) then Manidono's curiosity has been aroused and he will bless his follower according to the Reaction Table below.

Instructions for using Manidono's reaction table: Grab the closest die or dice at hand and roll. Just because the table has 100 entries doesn't mean you should roll percentile dice; sometimes Manidono just doesn't care enough to roll more than a 6-sider, you know? Just chill, dude.

Roll	Result
1	Dude. That's a major bummer. Manidono is bummed on your behalf. Everyone must succeed at a morale check or do nothing except sit around and be bummed out for 1d6 rounds.
2-3	Wait, what? Everyone in the vicinity loses a round as they figure out what just happened.
4-5	Here, have 1 hit point. It tastes like nachos.
6-7	So, like, stuff? A random piece of equipment worth no more than 50gp appears in your possession.
8-9	Aw, man, that sucks. Take a do-over and roll again.
10-11	That thing you don't like? Stop doing it. Restart the round from the beginning.
12-18	The spirit of half-assed effort fills the area. Everyone takes a -2 penalty to all rolls.
19-20	OK, like, everyone needs to just chill. Combat ends and everyone is returned to maximum hit points. Diplomacy is possible but everyone has the munchies.
21-99	Manidono has nothing better to do and appears next to his supplicant to "hang out for a bit." See below.
100	Manidono delivers you from your current dilemma by inviting you to hang out on his couch for a while. You disappear from wherever you are, reappearing 1d10 turns later. All of your wounds are healed but you have aged 2d10 years.

Adventurers who end up summoning Manidono must now deal with the presence of a slovenly, bored godling who shuffles along behind them. He does not help the party in any way ("I'm just here to hang out, dude, I'm not on the clock") but still consumes party resources such as food, water, bed space, etc. He will try to cooperate with the party's actions such as being stealthy or trying to appear inconspicuous, but will do so in such a half-assed manner that it might as well be failure.

Manidono never attacks, as that would be too much work. If attacked, he half-assedly defends himself (mostly by holding up his arm and saying "Ow! Quit it, dude!") and forces another roll on the reaction table. If the party persists in combat, Manidono disappears in a huff after taking more than half his hit points in damage, and forever after they will carry the Curse of Manidono – which will be really awesomely painful when he gets around to making it.

Manidono always appears as a large, unkempt man with stringy hair, stained clothes, and a strange odor about him. Imagine Hurley (from LOST) as a Greek God -- possibly Dionysus' slacker cousin -- and you've got the right idea.


Old-School Stats for those who are into that kind of thing

Movement: 90' (30')
Armor Class: 9
Hit Points (Hit Dice): 21 (7)
Attacks: Special
Damage: Special
Save: F7
Morale: 12
Hoard Class: V
XP: One. Seriously, you guys just whacked a stoner and you want a reward?

The original sketch I sent to Adam. Behold Manidono in his half-assed glory.

* Chaotic in the sense of entropic. It's a very lazy form of chaos.