Does Ancient Elven Have Glottal Stops?

With the new campaign starting up, I've been trying to add to the Celtic/Viking ambiance of my game and its world.  Campaign I took place in a more cosmopolitan age, when many cultures had already made their way to the Isle and intermingled. Its feel (intentionally or not) was similar to that of most D&D games' default setting.

With Campaign II, I have made a more conscious effort in terms of cultural and linguistic flavoring. To wit, I've created some new settlements in the north of Evenoria and have renamed (or secondarily-named) others using certain language guidelines. So far those guidelines include:

• using transliterated Irish for the Midlander (native human Evenorian) names of people and places, often with an English "translation" of the name as well (e.g., "Ravensport" and "Cuan Eandubh" being two names for the same city)
• using transliterated Icelandic and Old Norse for Northlander people and places
• using transliterated Welsh for elven, annwynn, and other fey beings and places
• giving places two (or more) names if they are home to or recognized by more than one culture

By "transliterated," I simply mean spelling the names so as to be pronounceable by modern American English speakers, shifting the occasional vowel or consonant as needed. I've no illusions that my names have any kind of legitimate or correct meanings or pronunciations! Although I've perused the Poetic and Prose Eddas as well, most of my "research" has simply been done via Google Translate. 

If anyone out there would care to comment, I'd love to know you go about creating place names in your campaign world. Or do you even think about the logic behind such things, instead just picking out names that sound cool?

1200 views for me, 100 albums for your game room

Just a quick note to say that we hit 1,200 pageviews this evening.  Thanks to everyone who's read, commented, played, and inspired this blog, fantasy world, and the game behind it.  I'm thoroughly enjoying keeping up on the project as I can, and I hope you are getting something out of it, too.

Speaking of large-ish numbers, io9 has a list of 100 Albums Every Science Fiction and Fantasy Fan Should Listen To.  Many of the albums listed would also be great atmospheric music for any gaming (or writing) session, as a lot of them are instrumental (don't know about you, but I find it harder to play when there are words (at least understandable ones) being sung).

I'm listening to Bo Hansson's jazzy/synthy Music Inspired by Lord of the Rings from 1970 as I type this.  The wolf howls in the distance of the "Fog on the Barrow Downs" section are an especially nice touch.

A Meta-Gaming Murder

DM:  After the longest, most dangerous quest of your lives, you have made it to the Center of the All.  Before you stands a dark tower of impossibly ancient age.  A slight humming escapes its very stones.  The air seethes with magic.

Hank: I open the door to the tower.

DM:  As you touch the door, it seems to swing in of its own volition.  A searing white light streams out of the opening and engulfs your party... everything is light and interconnection: your bodies seems to dissolve, your consciousnesses merge and then expand beyond any concept of space or time.  You dissolve into nothingness... and everythingness.

Slowly, your eyes refocus and a sense of self returns.  Your bodies feel strange... somehow more solid than they were before... and yet not nearly as strong or quick as they should be. Your armor and weapons are gone, replaced by soft cotton garments.  The air is warm, tinged with the scent of chemicals.

You are seated around a small wooden table.  Spread out before you are an array of tomes depicting heroes and monsters, dozens of brightly-colored gems engraved with strange markings, and many loose leaves of paper.  A collection of tiny statuettes sits in the center of the table.

Sheila:  I pick up one of the statuettes and examine it.

DM:  It's light and delicate and it appears to be... you.

Sheila:  That is so lame.

DM:  Hank, save versus poison.

Hank:  But my character didn't drink anything!

DM:  Not your character, Hank.  You.

Hank:  What?  You've totally gone.... bwwwwahhhh..... gurgle....

Sheila:  Is he... gone?

DM:  Yes.  It's just you and me now, my love.  We can finally... wait a second.  Where'd you get a crossbow?

Sheila:  NOW who's the Dungeon Master?

*twang*

*thwunk*

Striking the Balance: Simplicity, Complexity, and Customization

I admit it, I'm a tinker.  No, not the makes-tin-cups-and-sells-them-from-wagons kind.  The messes-with-things-until-they-work-the-way-I-want-or-ooops-I-broke-it kind.

Cases in point:

• I love B/X/BECMI D&D and LL.  It's a simple system that plays fast and leaves a lot of open room for storytelling without being a "story game."  But, like most DMs, there are things I would have done differently if I'd been the one to devise the rules.  In the Evenoria games, for example, I'm using Base Attack Bonus and Positive Armor Class.  Why?  Because it just makes more sense intuitively and involves quick, in-the-head calculations rather than referring to charts and tables.  Initially, though, it required MORE work.  I had to look at to-hit-progressions for all of the classes and figure the BAB based on that, figure up the armor bonuses, and then assemble everything into tables that I must now remember to find and refer to at the game table.
• JB's 100 Reasons table rocks for figuring out cool ways to make a party "gel."  And it saves on brainpower.  But I almost forgot to use it because, again, it's just another piece of paper to have to keep on hand.
• Same thing for all of Zak's cool charts and tables from his blog and Vornheim, as well as Jeff's carousing rules.

Sometimes in mid-tinker, though, I wonder if I'm not making things harder or at least more involved than they ought to be.  Ostensibly, one of the main reasons I gave up on Type III D&D was that I didn't like complexity.  There were just too many systems, too many rules.  So for a long time, I either didn't play at all or ran games like Risus, FUDGE, or even the old West End Ghostbusters game.

But sooner or later, we all revisit our roots.  And in doing so, I finally figured out that "Basic" D&D had about the right level of complexity to keep both me and my players interested.  (Perhaps still a bit too much for the former and a bit too little for the latter--but that's what compromise is all about, no?)  Plus, you know, nostalgia.  I mean it comes IN A BOX! With DICE! In THE BOX!

And now what am I doing?  I'm adding more systems and tools.  Complexity.  Of course we're still about 20-30% as complex as Types I, II, or III*, but I wonder at times where customization ends and the slippery slope to byzantine rules lawyering begins.

How do YOU decide when or how something--even if it seems cool at the outset--is more trouble than it's worth?

----

* I haven't played Type IV.  Don't even know anyone, personally, who plays it, so I can't really comment on it.  But, from the few glances I've had at the character sheets, it looks to be roughly as "involved" as Type III.

Challenge Rating THIS: A Note to My Players

BILBO

Can you guarantee I will come back?

GANDALF

No.  And if you do, you will not be the same.

Dear Players, Current and Future:

Adventuring is dangerous business, obviously (cough*pestilencezombies*cough). And Evenoria, while it LOOKS on the surface like the balanced, challenge-rating-adjusted world you're used to, is NOT that place.  That's not to say that the DM is gonna sic Tiamat on you at third level.  He's not that crazy.  But if an NPC happens to tell you where Tiamat lives, and you go there and knock in her/his/its door... well, good luck to you.  And that army of goblins passing through the wilderness all too close to you?  That's probably not an adventure hook--most likely, it's just an army of goblins passing through the wilderness on their way somewhere.  They don't want you to come and "play" with them.  They wanna get where they're going.  But, hey, if you wanna jump in the middle of their ranks... well, good luck to you.

The DM isn't out to kill you... but the big, bad world probably is.  Life's hard that way.