On Thieves

But not literally.  Not since my second marriage, anyway.  Hey-O!


My OSR games take a bit of a hybrid approach to the extra list of thief skills.

Anyone can hide.  Anyone can climb sheer surfaces.  Anyone can search for traps.  That’s a d6 roll, succeed on a 6, add relevant stat mods if I’m feeling generous and the task isn’t too onerous.

Anyone can hide in a warehouse full of clutter, but a thief can hide in an empty stone walled room.  Anyone can climb a cliff face, but a thief can climb anything rougher than a mirror.  Anyone can look at the flagstones, but a thief gets an extra “ability check, not role-play” chance to evade.  That last one is a bit like a saving throw that kicks in when the player donks his head on the doorjamb ducking through one of my clue hoops.

He missed the tarnished surface of the door knob because he didn’t think to look?  A fighter saves vs. poison, but a thief makes his find traps check.  Forgot to inspect the floor tiles for hinges?  Mr. Cleric plummets for 1d6 where Mr. Thief gets a second shot by passing a find traps check.  You get the idea.

What happens in real life is that I announce the trap.  The thief found it by Hank or by shank, the only question is whether he found that spear trap by noticing the hole in the wall or by noticing the hole in his chest.

Might not be straight by the book, but it gets the job done.  And it’s a lot of fun for the players, either way.  At least for the kind of players that you want on the other side of your DM screen, anyway.

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Only the Dankest Survive


Image | Posted on by

Let The Mincing COMMENCE!

From the good guys over at Bounding Into Comickal Books comes this light hearted story about a self-fellating website dedicated to stamping out crimethink (read: anything pro-Christian, pro-West, or pro-anti-cancer,) with a two-bit after-thought of a closet where people who haven’t gotten the memo sometimes they talk about role-playing games finally ripping off the mask and showing the world the hideousness of their souls.

RPG(sic).net Bans Pro God-Emperor Crimethink

Gayer than my band camp experience

Fixed so much in this photo for you, BiC. You’re welcome.

This is not news.  They’ve been doing this to anyone to the left of Che “Shooting Little Girls is Easy, Just Don’t Lead Them As Much” Guevara since forever.  All they’ve done is finally admit to the world that they don’t have room in the echo chamber for people who don’t bow and scrape before their mentally ill moderators.  Openly admittedly mentally ill moderators who brag about their meds and how often they go off them because of HitlerBush then HitlerCongress and now HitlerDrumph.

No one likes RPG.net.  People barely tolerate it for the few clueless souls who wander into the back corner where they talk about RPGs, but normal people recognize that you can find a few fun archived threads if you stay the hell away from the vast mountains of poo-flung by the monkeys that inhabit that strange place.  Like that one moderator who “anonymously” donated five grand to his own crowdfund to hit the over-priced goal of publishing a loli-centered anime high school monster fighting RPG complete with the one thing every loli-centered anime high school monster fighting RPG needs – lots of safe spaces and diversity lectures.  What a doofus.  Wish I could remember his name.

May that site survive to be a thousand years old so that it acts as the internet’s grease trap, collecting the cast-offs, scum, and gross bits of hair that you don’t want fouling up your nice clean sewage plant.  And by sewage plant, I mean Twitter.

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Master, Come Back!

We lost one of the good ones, boys.  Pour a 40 oz. of Mountain Dew out on the ground this evening after the dayball sinks beneath the horizon.


For realz, bro.  Hack to the Slash to the Mish Mash Master signing off is a huge win for bad gaming and a huge loss for honest actors around the hobbyscape.

There’s a big wall of text over there that amounts to, “Life is crazy right now.  Screw this, I’m go have a juice box.”  Which is cool.  A man has to take care of his kids and a lot of times his wife’s boyfriend’s kids while she’s off getting her nails done which we all know is a euphemism for blowing johns to make her crack habit ends meet not that I’m bitter because this post isn’t about me, it’s about the Hack Man.  He sees the looming battle on the horizon between the angles and de mons and he’s checking out to get his head on straight and refocus on the little battles.

He was a powerful voice in gaming circles with a lot of great ideas.  Quantum Ogre is top notch pontificating that totes helped clarify a lot of vacuous and fatuous nonsense in the hoity-toity gaming egghead circles.

He’ll be missed by everyone around Chez E. Reagan’s gaming table, I tell you whut.

Vaya con dios, you can slash my master any time.

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You Thought Colorforms Was a Joke?

They laughed at me when I played with this set back in 1980, but who’s laughing now that WotC has a contest for best Colorformer, huh?  Sure maybe they laughed at me for being a high school junior playing with colorforms at lunch*, but old E. Reagan sits in the driver’s seat now, bitches!

D&D Colorforms 2

Older schooler than diehards still playing with Skills & Powers

Of course, back in the day nobody was dumb enough to pretend that playing with Colorforms made you a gamer.  Today you can drink from an ampersand mug and call yourself a gamer, and Mearls will bend over backwards to cater to your desires first, even at the cost of alienating the fans that built the hobby from which he sucks the lifeblood like the good little multinational globohomo henchman he is.

C’est la vie.  A better Oaffish-al D&D product might take attention away from a more deserving outfit like Autarch or Swords and Wizardry or DCC.  That’s where the cool RPG kids hang out now, and I should know – they might have laughed at me in high school and college and grad school and my workplace and everywhere I went up until 2015, but now the tide as turned.  I bathe regularly.  The God Emperor ascends.  The NPCs cower in fear induced rage.  And old E. Reagan continues to engage in humor so edgy and rebellious The Man routinely shuts down entire websites to prevent the spread of the toxically healthy ideas that I espouse.


Leftists aren’t just the real racists (though that continues to DESTROY them as little Benny Shap-eshifter-iro constantly reassures me), they are also the real nerds.  Get ready for some wedgies, dorks!  Paul Joseph Watson told me that I’m cool now, that as a duly designated part of the counter-culture, all the cool kids who live to push back against The Man look up to and respect devil-may-care attitudes like mine.  Did you notice?  I don’t care.  I don’t care a lot.  PJ Watty-Wat tells me the harder you don’t care the cooler you are, and nobody doesn’t care harder than me.  I have a whole blog about how little I care.  Beat that, NPCs!

On a related note, it’s a shame that more people aren’t posting YouTube videos explaining the joke behind NPCs.  God forbid we just enjoy a meme for once instead of falling all over ourselves to overuse it and overexplain it and try to mine it for clicks and sales and famewhoring.  It would really suck to log on to YouTube and not have the first fifty videos recommended to me be NPCs For Idiots.

Seriously gang.  Dial it back a notch already.  You don’t see me – the coolest rebel around – jumping in front of a microphone every time Ethan Van Scribbler jumps in front of a parade do you?  That’s not because that much jumping around would burn enough calories to get my BMI back into the 30s.  And that’s not just because my larynx got shot off in the war.  It’s because I know how to kick back and let a meme breathe and sublimate.  I know how to resist jumping into the thick of a controversy and using it for my own naked cash grab.

That reminds me, buy my short story:

*They did but mostly because of the smell.

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Wizard’s latest contest is Colorforms.  Because they know their target audience, and it ain’t those of us who could figure out how to play the game from scratch using nothing but a dog-eared copy of Moldvay stolen from our older brother’s room.  It’s people for whom coloring books represent sweat inducing stimulation.  This is no longer a hobby for smart kids, it’s a hobby for dull witted clever-clever types, the sort who still have Twitter accounts and think you DESTROY somebody with a tweet.  It’s for people who watch D&D because even the dumbed down mainstream version of D&D is too hard and takes too much time away from their artisanal hummus toast.  In other words, degenerates, and I mean that in every sense of the word.

Here’s my first attempt at a disgusting and smelly thing that lives in Halaster’s Basement.  It’s the four armed Ravenous Poser.  Enjoy.


As mentioned in the comments on my last post, I screencapped the bits after opening them up in Adobe’s ass-cancer product, imported them into Paint.NET, and built this image, as I build them all, using an open source project that would CoC block me out of it were I of the programming bent.


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Red Alert! Red Alert!

Wizards of the Roasties and PhotoLemmeJustUpdateMySoftwareAgainYou-Weren’tReallyDoingAnythingImportantAnywayShop wants us to do their work for them again.  They are asking us to Summon the Terror of Undermountain.  The last time I summoned the Terror…well, there’s a reason I’m not allowed in stripper bars in Michigan anymore.  It ruined a perfectly good ladies night and I lost the $500 amateur prize to some Mayan bodybuilder from Florids.

Please don’t unleash the beast, gamers.

Image result for say no to crack magic the gathering

Releash it!  Releash it!  For the love of God!

And yet, this represents too good of a chance of engaging in a little Ken Kezey and the Merry Shanksters high-jinks to pass up.  It does mean giving the Pissers of the Coast your email and downloading Abode’s latest joke of a graphics editor, so use a burner email, ya mopes!




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