A blog for Rick Stump, gamer since 1977. Rants from my fevered brain about Old School Gaming, the state of the industry, my ongoing campaign (it began in 1979) and the supplements created by Harbinger Games
I grew up in central Indiana (off and on) and was lucky to live near enough to Indianapolis to (barely) get the independent TV station Channel 4 (WTTV). I grew up watching Janey, Cowboy Bob, Sammy Terry, and all the rest of the gloriously weird independent stuff they had.
For you whippersnappers, it was a different time. The TV Guide often listen WTTV's content as 'movie' or 'show'; the local paper often said the exact same thing, darn it. So often the only way to learn what was on was to tune in. Even better, a lot of the late night programming (Sci-Fi Theater; Horror Theater, the Sammy Terry Show, etc.) might not freaking mention the name of the show, so if you missed the opening credits AND the end credits didn't give a name?
Too bad.
So one night when I was 12 years old I wrapped up a game of AD&D 1e in my Seaward campaign (I think it was part of the 9 month long Pirates arc) and sat down to watch TV. It was Saturday night and my sisters were asleep and my parents were in their bedroom reading and talking.
I can't wait until my wife and I get our sitting area in our room back
I came in right after the credit, darn it, and started 5-6 minutes in, max.
It was gripping! A man being released from a mental institution during WWII; a carnival with a secret; villagers acting creepy and telling the protagonist (just out of the asylum, remember) that they are NOT acting creepy; a cake people will kill for; a blind man who isn't blind.
I was hooked!
I was about 20 minutes into the film (yes, all that was the opening) when - the power went out. Someone had hit a power pole and we lost power for 3 hours.
I searched TV Guide ("movie") and the local paper ("thriller"). I asked my parents, even teachers. No one recognized it. I started going to the library to look up films and discovered film theory and film history. My dad got me a copy of the Golden Turkey Awards. I started going to film festivals, etc. It wasn't long before it stopped being about That Film and about film in general.
Even years later when I was able to name the lead actor (Ray Milland) I wasn't sure which film it was because, well, synopsis were very rare and unclear and Milland was in a lot of films that weren't on VHS. When I was on Usenet and heard about The List which had become the Cardiff Internet Movie Database. I found a forum, learned two things; the CIDB was about to change and become the IMDB and the movie I had caught a glimpse of was Ministry of Fear.
I was eventually able to see the entire film (and I encourage you to do the same!) and it is still one of my favorites.
In the meantime that loss of power was my gateway to cinema and my love of movies to this day.
I love running what I call 'jazz band adventuring'; it gives me and the players a great deal of flexibility and lets the stakes be really, really high without running the risk of derailing the campaign.
But it also means that the players are rolling up new characters relatively often.
I have a series of things I do for new characters joining the campaign. I make sure to sit with them and work up an outline of a backstory. They flesh it out, but I collaborate for things like home village name and location, family background, etc. I will also often work through initial gear and tell them to make sure they do or don't get certain things. For the rest I usually wait until the characters are actually about to be played (the day before a session, usually).and then give them:
1) Print out a list of what they know.
This has three main sections; facts they know; PCs and NPCs they know; rumors they've heard. If the player's backstory needs certain details from me, I include those, too. For example, my wife's barbarian character Brigid is from a clan in the middle of a feud, so I included the name of that clan.
2) Give them a list of any 'extra stuff' they start with.
This can be all over the map; fighter with the secondary skill of 'farmer' might have extra rations from his mother; a thief with a backstory that he works the streets as a pickpocket for cash might have a specialized tool or two; a nobleman might have a silver-accented saddle and a valet. Once (working with the player) the half-orc fighter/thief fresh from an orphanage started with the flu!
This isn't a lot of stuff and it doesn't take much time or effort, but it pays off a lot, especially since I know their backstory.
Then, before the game, I also add them to my character roster. This includes the usual stuff, like name, level, hit points, stats, etc., but also a sketch of their backstory, the list of what they know and their extra stuff, and such. Last but not least I keep my own notes on major magic items, big adventures, and my behind-the-scenes stuff, as well.
Again, all of this takes maybe 30 minutes, total, per new character but it pays big dividends! The players feel plugged in to the campaign and I can keep track of plot lines much better.
We all have those stories. You know, the tales from the table about success or failure, triumph or death.
They're one of the reasons I play.
Here is a tale that explains one of the reasons I try to remember how important NPCs are to the players.
In Lew Pulsipher's campaign for many, many years the last bastion of safety and civilization was the stronghold of a 9th level cleric. This fortress, called simply 'J.C.'s Castle', was not just the leaping off point to explore Mount Thunder, Skystone Castle, or the Lake of Dread, it was the first line of defense for the poor peasants of the countryside against the ravening hordes of monsters lurking in the wilds.
More than once the adventure was to hold J.C.'s Castle against those very hordes.
The one I remember most clearly had a party of 5th-6th level with the men-at-arms/followers of J.C. defending against an army of many lurfs (think furry 4 armed kobolds with atlatls) and a few cavewights (think hairless bugbears with troll strength that can Spiderclimb stone) led by a cabal of pyromancers. The paladin, cleric, thief and fighter led teams of followers in holding the walls while the mage took to the central tower to snipe foes with spells.
J.C. was gone on a mission.
Lew uses numbered tiles of various colors/number colors to represent foes and hirelings, etc.
Through the long, long fight a number of memorable events happened; the mage drained the last charge from his laser rifle killing a pyromancer 700 yards away and emptied his pearl-handled .44 magnums (kept in shoulder holsters under his cloak of protection) into a cavewight; the paladin held a doorway by himself against 30 foes for 6 rounds only to have to pivot and hold it the other way for 5 more against another 20; the thief never missed a backstab or missile weapon to-hit roll; the cleric ran out of spells, potions, items, and scrolls of Cures for the only time since 1st level.
And a lone man-at-arms survived. Tile #23, the 3rd ranking sergeant, stayed in the thick of things the entire battle. At one point #23 was back-to-back with the fighter on top of a tower eventually cutting down 4 lurfs while the fighter killed 2 cavewights. At another time he rallied other men-at-arms and led them in a counter-charge which held a wall but cost the lives of the other 6 NPCs.
When dawn came the evil army was broken and fled, the spell casters were out of spells, and everyone was in single-digit hit points. But #23 was alive, if with just 1 h.p.
Cool story about a fun adventure.
But a few real world months later a different party went to J.C.'s Castle. The thief was the one from the defense and the player was careful to say,
"I look up #23."
He was the new top sergeant of the fortress' staff. The thief's player said his character would certainly tell the story of that night and #23's bravery to the party.
This kept happening; as characters from that adventure leveled up the players were careful to look for #23, tell his story, even give him things like potions or +1 chain.
In the 28 years since the Third Defense of J.C.'s Castle I've thought about that fight often. Not just because that was my mage, but because f the impact that an NPC had on the campaign. Not a hero; not a villain; not a sage; not a henchman. An expert hireling of another NPC who was never, ever even given a name. And yet that event was so memorable that in 2001 I was relaxing with an old friend. After 5 beers and a cigar he asked me,
"Hey, remember #23?"
And we laughed about that event all over again.
Every GM has the experience of the carefully-crafted NPC with a page of backstory, a list of plot hooks, and well-practiced mannerisms that the players don't care about and can't remember no matter how many times you give them notes. Why are they forgotten but not #23?
I have a handful of theories, but the two I want to touch on are Interaction and Independence.
#23 interacted with the PCs. Sure, sure, there was virtually no dialog (which was probably good) but just noting 'he sticks with the fighter' and 'he makes sure to cover the fighter's back' was critical. This interaction was both relevant to what the PC was doing and actively part of the action of the adventure. The player was, not surprisingly, feeling that his character was exposed and in danger; #23's interactions with the PC were about that element of the game, making the player emotionally invested in what the NPC was doing.
That well-crafted NPC mage with all the backstory? If the party's magic-user meets with him about copying spells there isn't going to be a lot of emotional investment in the words or deeds of the NPC. You have to make them memorable some other way.
And by independence I mean the NPC must be shown to be more than a prop.
QUICK ASIDE: How often are the henchmen and hirelings in the game simply forgotten? Here is a great example from film. In Monty Python and the Quest for the Holy Grail we see retainers like Patsy, hirelings like Sir Robin's minstrels, etc. But the others only appear, as if out of thin air!, when needed.
In addition to being a barely credible excuse to insert Monty Python into my blog it is a great example of how a lot of NPCs are treated. They aren't there until you need them, then they appear to fulfill their purpose, soon after a monster eats them.
When #23 led that charge he proved he wasn't just a prop; he had independence. His own thoughts and the ability to make decisions and take action. Between that and covering the fighter on his own the only real difference between #23 and a PC was who was running him. And not only is Lew immune to GMPC effects, #23 was obviously just in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Again, if that NPC with a ton of backstory only reacts to/responds to the PCs then he isn't going to seem "real" (whatever that means in context).
So, learn the lesson of #23 - have your NPCs interact in meaningful ways when possible and make them independent.
In my own campaign there is a scout henchman fairly infamous for going off to do thing while the party is making camp - fetch wood, hunt for game, scout their back trail to see if someone is following them - all sorts of things. But he often just - leaves - and doesn't tell anyone until he gets back. He is reliable, and honest, he just is gone during camp setup. This is the whole 'independence' thing as well as, sometimes, interaction when he brings in a pheasant or captures a kobold that had been trailing the party.
NOTE: Somehow an early draft was published; edits are now included.
Dwarf Hill is the name of a large hill on the eastern verge of the Stone Hills just beyond the borders of the Kingdom of Seaward. It had long had a reputation of being both the hiding place of dwarven treasure and of being haunted by a banshee. About 18 months ago (real time) an adventuring party had found a hidden ravine on the eastern edge of Dwarf Hill and cleared out a small band of brigands hiding in a hillside dwelling. The party had found a tunnel into the hill that eventually bridged an underground stream but then ended in a door - a door with a long-dead body in front of it and the chalked warning "Glyph" on the wall nearby.
This weekend a new party returned, this time with a dwarven fighter/cleric along who believed he knew the password to temporarily deactivate the glyph.
The party consisted of:
Fiona, a human fighter; 2nd level
The Sparrow, a half-elven fighter/thief; 1st/2nd
Konrad, a dwarven fighter/cleric; 1st/1st
Seamus, a druid; 2nd
Thoren, a half-orc fighter/thief; 1st/2nd
No henchmen this time around.
The party travelled to the border along the Wyvern Road meeting no one of more than middling interest with only a heavy rain to break the monotony of the road. After three days they left he fortified village of Estham for Dwarf Hill, 5 hours into the wilderness. They arrived and found the stone hut still empty, but intact. They quickly rechecked the areas they had cleared out on the first trip and then scouted the bridge and door - they seemed undisturbed.
They crossed the bridge and examined the door. Seamus used a lantern to peer carefully into the darkness along the underground river's passage and thought he detected another bridge upstream and higher in the cleft. Kaspar said what he hoped was the password and opened the door... safely.
The area beyond was obviously a mine; the door opened into a central collection area with two drifts radiating away from it and doors further into the hill. The party heard a faint tapping in the distance, but could not identify the direction the sound was coming from. The tapping sounded like either metal on stone or water on metal and was very regular.
The party explored the nearest drift first. The dwarf identified the ore as a source of tin. The drift showed that the vein was played out in the area. In a remote side shaft they found a half-elven body, long dead, under a pile of rubble. On the wall nearby they found tally marks; the count was 64. Returning to the main area they opened the first door and found an area with tin ore in bins. While poking through the bins the animated skeleton of an ogre burst forth and fought the party. The party slew it in 2 rounds, then opened another door in the room, revealing another passage and door.
About this time Seamus, Fiona, and Konrad all began counting on their fingers and marking each 10 count with a tally mark on the wall. The others realized they were counting the individual taps they were hearing! Concerned, those unaffected quickly led the counters through the glyphed door (saying the password!) and across the bridge, where the sound of the water drowned out the tapping. In a few turns the three counters were feeling fine, although shaken by their sudden obsession with counting. The party realized tha, based on lantern oil, the obsession hit after an hour of the tapping, camped in the stone hut and made plans for the next day.
After a quiet night the party once more said the pass word, entered the mine, and began to search, but much less cautiously than usual.They found another body in the second drift (beneath 91 tally marks) and stairs leading up. They also found a central equipment room with mining tools and 4 handcarts. As they approached an hour within the sound of the tapping they retreated into s short drift, Seamus put wax plugs into his ears, and the rest (all members of the Church) began chanting the Litany of the Saints.
All felt an immediate lessening of the psychic pressure of the sound of tapping.
BTW, this is, in my game, the basis of the Chant spell.
After about 5 rounds a figure leaped out of the darkness! It looked like an emaciated dwarf dressed in rags carrying a heavy tool hammer and was obviously undead. Most of the party was surprised - the creature swung at Seamus, but missed. Seamus missed in return and then the thing ran off, seemingly into thin air.
The party continued, finding two more main drifts and continuing to explore. They found two more bodies and what they suspected was the main lair of the creature. And while once again stopping in a small alcove to chant the creature attacked again, striking Fiona for quite a bit of damage.
And removing every trace of her sense of direction. She was so puzzled she couldn't even obey 'follow the person in front of you' instructions. Kaspar took her my the hand to lead her through the tunnels. A second ambush dealt damage to Kaspar, as well, and the confusion. Both could still fight and even cast touch spells, but not travel!
On the fourth attack, however, Seamus was more prepared. This time he was not surprised and he had a spell ready - Faerie Fire! The creature was limned by the spell and the fighters closed in (some with hand-holding) and destroyed him soon, but not before he confused another member of the party.
The party retreated back to the hut, rested, healed up and by late the next day the weird confusion had ended.
The returned and examined the higher floor, finding it empty (other than a mithral key they discovered after following a few clues) and - the other bridge, seen before. With some quick thinking and luck they were able to bypass the Wizard Lock on this door and enter the final chambers.
This was the bolt-hole of a long-dead wizard who had taken over the space as a place to hide from his enemies. The party slew a ghoul set to guard the outer door (Thoren got initiative and killed it with a single mighty blow!) and then drove off an imp (the dead mage's familiar, trapped by a spell) to find his corpse and a basic spell research library.
They gave the dead proper burial and then used the carts to haul out the loot. Several of them leveled up.
The monster ws one I have had stuck in my head a loooooong time. Way, way back in Dragon Magazine #58, which came out in February of 1982, was a special section on dwarves that included a new undead, the Rapper. I modified them a little bit and have wanted to use them for, oh, about THIRTY-THREE YEARS! Although only 4 HD their abilities to drive people mad, turn invisible, and affect people with a Lose the Path effect combine to make them a nice, creepy threat. The party realized that a little foolhardiness and a few blown saves and one rapper could wipe out an entire party rather easily. I have had Dwarf Hill floating around in various incarnations for 3 decades and finally a party went past that glyphed door!
About 1981 my friend Dave wanted to play an Irish warrior. Dave was reading a great deal about the history and legends of Ireland. I pulled out an encyclopedia, swung by Ball State, and invented Eiru, a distant island home of people called the Eire.
Or, as my sons like to call it, Ireland Land.
Since then there have been 4-5 more characters from Eiru as well as NPCs, the sword Mor Altach, the dreaded Banshee Stones, and at least one drinking song.
My wife made a barbarian (my own version of the class) from Eiru a year or so ago and the character's backstory was all about being Irish, uh, Eire. Not much of a surprise given that 3 of her 8 great-grandparents were born in Ireland and another was born on the passage over!
Well, she wants to go on a side trip to Eiru and settle accounts with the clan that drove her from her home and still threatens her clan and family. She is accompanied by the paladin called Clint who recently reached 4th level and had a vision that he should travel to Eiru, famed for its horses, and search for a steed.
One little problem - in 34 years I had never made a map of Eiru.
Hexographer to the rescue!
I made some notes on scratch paper last night and created this in about 20 minutes. It needs a LOT of cleaning up, smoothing, etc., but here it is in its 10 miles per hex state.
I have mentioned before that when I was a kid I read the legends of Charlemagne, the books of Vance, etc. from the age of about 7 on but only read Tolkien and the various stories of Arthur in my late teens, 6-8 years after starting my own AD&D 1e campaign. This means Bishop Turpin, Maugris, and Roland had a lot more impact on my campaign than Gandalf, Strider, or Merlin.
One of the things that has always been a part of my campaign in - the Church.
Out of habit, let's talk about me for a minute.
I was raised what is now called "unchurched". My parents took me to a church once or twice, and that was for weddings of cousins. While we had a lot of books about religion in the house, we had lots of books about everything else in the house, too. I grew up in what my mother called 'the buckle of the bible belt' and was surrounded by Protestant churches but only knew one Catholic and only knew she was Catholic because of the ashes on the forehead thing, as I called it then.
But if you are reading the Matter of France, Ivanhoe, etc., the Catholic Church is the very background of the plot. I didn't know very much about Catholicism in any way but everything from Ogier Danske to Holger Carlson (see what I did there?) told me the Church was critical.
So when I made my 1e campaign, which I call Seaward, it had - the Church.
As I got older I learned a great deal more about the real world Church and I developed the Church in my campaign more fully, although it was from the distance of non-religious books and fiction. When I 'rebooted' Seaward in the late '80's I introduced a pantheon of multiple good deities, the Bright Gods, and tried them out for a few months, but the players hated the idea. Later I used the Bright Gods again in 3e and, once more, my players (entirely different people) preferred the Church.
I also encountered a lot of other GMs, too. Bill had the Valar from LotRs, who are (of course) more akin to archangels than gods and explicitly report to a monotheistic deity. Lew Pulsipher, game theorist and atheist, had God. Singular. And the Church. Singular. Oddly similar to what I had done. As a matter of fact, a whole lot of the GMs I met between '78 and '88 just had "the Church", whatever it might be called,
And this makes a lot of sense for a lot of reasons!
First off, the real details of religion are, well, not that important since we are playing games. Thieves' Guilds, Assassins' Guilds, whatever organization Rangers belong to, Druidic circles, Monk's groups - they are all rather vague and up to the GM and, well, why paint yourself into a corner? Leave it vague until you have to make a ruling, write that down, move on, right?
Second, old school 1e AD&D is very, very, obviously based on European history and folklore. And you cannot separate European history and folklore from Catholicism. Well, you could but it seems really odd and why would you?
Third, the book smostly tell us there is a church based on the Church.
Yeah, they do.
Paladins. I mean, the word essentially means 'Catholic knight'.
Cleric level titles.
Art like this:
See the cleric? He's wearing the tabard of a Militant Holy Order, like the Knights of St. John or the Templars.
BTW, that image is the first thing I saw the first time I flipped open a PHB and I will never forget that moment.
Holy Water. And fonts.
Spell names.
I mean, I can obviously go on and on, but the fact remains that the rather religious, observant Protestant Mr. Gygax had the Catholic Church firmly in mind while he was typing.
Another aside: EGG was seemingly so Protestant that he did not celebrate Christmas as it was not in the bible. I have not confirmed this as true on my own, but if he had no problem with a faux Catholic Church trappings in his game why would you?
So there is this sort of vague Hollywood version of the Catholic Church floating around as part of the foundation of AD&D and I, like many others, sorta' dropped that into our own campaigns. Yes, things changed over time. After the various Gods of the Demi-Humans, Gods of the Suloise, Greyhawk/Forgotten Realms stuff, not to mention the Deities and Demigods release, there were all sorts of pantheons floating around. Many people tacked on things, or they were dragged in during character creation, and in general by the time 3e assumed pantheons, so did most players.
But I didn't.
A few things happened between 1985 and today that caused me to really cement the Church in my campaign.
Let's talk about me some more.
First, I joined the army and became an intelligence type focused on the Middle East, so I ended up studying Islam a great deal as an academic subject.
Then, after I got out, I majored in the Middle Eastern Studies and, because of my background, ended up studying Judaism academically to better understand the region.
Finally, I transferred to a Catholic university and took the mandatory theology class. Within a year I had: Converted to Catholicism, and; changed my major to Catholic Theology.
So as a Catholic theologian is might not surprise you that my campaign has the Church. But remember! It always did!
I can hear you now,
"OK, sheesh, thanks for the bio! Can we get on to religion in your campaign, please?"
Sure!
From the point of view of the rulesyou can use the Church to explain some otherwise - puzzling - things about D&D;
1) Demi-humans vs. Humanoids: Some non-human creatures that resembles people are called demi-humans. All the rest are called humanoids. In my campaign demi-humans are those races that are mostly part of or allied with the Church.
2) Shamans vs. Clerics: Why do demi-humans get to be (NPC) clerics but humanoids are the lower-powered shamans? In the Church or out of it.
3) The Nine Alignment System: As I have mentioned previously, having read Three Hearts and Three Lions as well as the tales of Charlemagne's Paladins the AD&D alignment system was never confusing to me. And, naturally, this is because both are about the Church, in very interesting ways.
4) How must Paladins act?: Related to the above, when you understand where paladins come from grasping their required outlooks and action are rather simple.
Another aside: Lew Pulsipher and his wife "get" paladins like almost no one else I have ever met.
From the point of view of world building at the 30,000 ft view the Church allows me to do a few more things, too;
1) Binding the Human/Demi-human races together culturally: Why the heck are races as wildly different as elves, dwarves, and humans chummy? Because they share a religion! Sure, this doesn't prevent political strife, misunderstandings, personal animosity, etc. but when a human peasant can receive Last Rites from a dwarven priest or an elven Religious Brother (an NPC class from my campaign) can Baptize a dwarven infant this binds these races together in a very real way that reflects the Real World.
2) Explaining a lot more about racial alignments in the Monster Manual, Part One:No, orcs are not 'inherently evil'. Then why does the MM list them as 'Lawful Evil" - they're devil worshipers! Culturally, orcs belong to a number of devil-worshiping cults (thus, the clan names/banners) which is why they tend to hate each other in the absence of an outside threat. Same with goblins, etc. Gnolls? Demon worshipers. This also explains the much more limited powers of shamans.
3) Explaining a lot more about racial alignments in the Monster Manual, Part Two: No, dwarves are not 'inherently good', they are listed as Lawful Good because the Church is widespread and they practice a traditional form of religion. Elves are Chaotic Good, you say? Schism! Think Catholic and Orthodox - the elves had a falling out with the top levels of Church hierarchy and, while still "valid" they do not follow the authority of the Church is all things. This is also a handy way of explaining why dwarves and elves get along, are Good, yet are leery of each other; doctrinal clashes. Oh, not to the level of warfare, but there is a bit of uncomfortable difference.
And world building at a 'closer level' lets me plug in a few more things,
1) An ecclesial language: The Church in my campaign uses an otherwise 'dead' language as it's own, internal, tongue. I also have an arcane tongue used by mages. The ecclesial language is used in church records, birth and death registries, on old tombs, etc. Learning it also allows pretty broad communication with clerics and scholars, too.
2) Lots of background color for the campaign: By now the players know that their characters will know that they can always seek help in a church at 3 am. Yes, really. Because of Lauds, the prayers said about 3 am every morning by clerics, paladins, and religious brothers who are not sick or otherwise constrained. The Divine Office (a series of prayers throughout the day), religious festivals, etc. in the background add a lot to the campaign feeling 'real'. See a guy in robes that has been tonsured? Well, he''s a low-level cleric or religious brother!
3) Cool items: Aspergillums, scapulars, zuchettos, birettas, biers, catafalques, umbraculum, thuribles, navicula, etc., etc., etc. All Real World things and all ready to be found in treasure hoards or rescued from thieves.
4) Cool Imagery: You can use stuff we recognize from the Real World to inject a solid impact onto the players.
I have no idea how many times i've seen this sued for bad guys;
So why not this for a different impact?
And we all know how useful Latin Chanting is!
At a very 'hits them in day to day play' level I have a few mechanics introduced into the campaign based upon religion.
1) Religious Brothers and Sisters: I covered the reasons I added NPC-only classes into my game in a long series of posts that talks about them in particular a bit here. Details are here. These are religious monks, parish priests, nuns, etc. They are not capable of competing with Clerics, but they do have unique spells. 9 times out of 10 the village priest is a Religious Brother.
2) Restrictions on Divine Magic: Unless you 'opt out' at character creation any non-Druid is assumed to have been born a member of the Church (i.e., had the proper Ceremony spell cast on them by a Religious Brother). If someone has NOT been joined to the Church the following Cleric spells will not work on them;
Bless
Protection from Evil
Chant
Prayer
Protection from Evil, 10' radius
Atonement
Raise Dead*
Restoration*
Resurrection*
*a cleric can cast Commune and seek permission for these spells to work
Similar spells from Shamans, Druids, etc. will not work on people that are not part of that particular religion/cult, either.
3) Ecclesial Penalties: The party is on an adventure and meets a patrol; the patrol, thinking they are a groups of bandits that have been raiding outlying farms, orders them to throw down their weapons and come with them so the local baron can determine if they are guilty. The party, on a timetable to recover a vast treasure, refuses. The patrol attacks and the party fights back. The fighting is desperate enough that magic-user casts Monster Summoning IV and brings forth...
Shadows.
The undead shadows kill 3 of the guardsmen, transforming them into shadows, too. The surviving members of the patrol flee and the party goes on to the dungeon, grabs a vast fortune, and heads back to the city.
Just another random encounter?
No. The surviving guardsmen tell the local baron what happened. The baron sends out strong patrols (the party dodges them) and asks questions about the strangers. After a week or so he knows the names of the party members.
The local parishes request help as people begin to vanish from the local villages. A cleric, paladin, and their henchmen find and destroy the shadows that were left behind by the summoned monsters, as well as the new shadows they have created. They report this to the baron, who tells the local bishop.
"So?" say the players, "We're 12th-14th level. What is a 9th level cleric going to do to us? Besides, we're in a completely different kingdom, now!"
This is what that bishop is going to do
Or, within the game mechanics, the bishop used divinations to confirm the identities of the party as well as their guilt, then cast the ceremony Excommunication; now the party cannot benefit from the spells listed above, nor receive the benefits of any Cure spells from the Church. Clerics, etc., that are excommunicated can memorize no spell except Atonement, if they are high enough level for it. And until the party members receive the Atonement spell the effects are permanent.
This sort of thing tends to catch the attention of players.
4) Cosmology: The Church speaks openly that it came from missionaries from 'another world' who spread the faith thousands of years ago and that the Pope of the game world is just 'the local leader' and that he reports back to Pope of the central Church.
When Spelljammer came out I was delighted for a number of reasons, not the least of which was the image of Dominicans on a little ship in the Phlogiston saying the Liturgy of the Hours as they approached a crystal sphere.
5) Saints and Relics: The local Church has local Saints, too. Like St. Thorn, missionary to the elves, or St. Aeldreda, the maiden saint of the dwarves. This is a short trip from saintly relics, holy wells, etc.
Overall the response from players, religious or otherwise, has been very positive. An atheist I played with for years was maybe the biggest fan. We had some talks about it [before I was religious, mind you] and we realized that in movies when there is some great evil or cosmic horror, or Satan coming, or whatever the heroes go to the Catholic Church. He argued it is because the imagery and hierarchy of the Catholic Church is so big, so well-known, so old, and so stable that everyone knows enough about it to be able to not need exposition about who they are and what they are doing.
I can't argue with that.
Heck, that's why I used it 35+ years ago and, arguably, why Gary did, too.
So, there it is. The tip of the iceberg of religion in my AD&D 1e campaign.
