Appendix NF: Avoid the flumpf, get a Dictionary of Early English

Say you're making up monsters for your new dungeon but all your monster names tend to sound like you ripped them off from the Fiend Folio.  Or maybe you're trying to infuse your campaign with atmosphere by creating your own "common" dialect which you will force your players to learn and use during play. Try dipping into the past for inspiration by incorporating long forgotten words from our own blessed language with the help of the Dictionary of Early English.  Written by Joseph T. Shipley, and published by Littlefield, Adams & Co. in 1968--though numerous tomes of its ilk exist, this just happens to be the one I own--I highly recommend it to other word nerds.

Sure you can look up the roots of old words on the internet without owning a good ol' fashioned paper n' ink book; which is definitely handy when you're researching, say, the level title of your favorite character classes.  But where texts like this beat out the internet and your kindle is in the serendipitous discoveries one unearths merely by flipping through the pages.  Say you've got time to kill while you download the latest OSR retroclone from Bloated Houserules Publishing; you grab the ol' dictionary and flip it open to page 439.  There's mordincancy, any old schooler is going to want to know if it has something to do with big creepy hands, right?  Nope, it means biting or pungent.  Then there's Rosencrantz's old buddy morgenstern; a spiked club, but, on hindsight, that seems obvious.   Then comes morglay, from Welsh Mawr, great + cleddyf, sword--whence Claymore. And finally, moria; folly.  With all due respect to the Professor, Sindarin for "Black Chasm" my ass! 

Some other highlights: 
Barbigerous--a most imposing beard
Gnomide--female gnome
lant--urine, another interesting tidbit: it was a common ingredient in ale; bear this in mind the next time your home-brewing buddy offers you a pint of his latest batch of double-lanted.
Paynim--the country or lands of the heathens; Greyhawk Enthusiasts will appreciate this one
Penster--a puny wielder of the pen. Hmmmm, I'm thinking of renaming my blog...

and best of all: 120 different -mancies show you how to divine the future!

Vornheim: Adorable!

So, yeah, I jumped on the ol' Pornstar Bandwagon and bought the Vornheim book.  The Lapplander Econo Delivery Service got it to me just in time for my birthday, which was a nice surprise.  I won't say too much about the contents of the book because so far I've only been monkeying around with the cover which acts as one of those clever devices that Zak S. seems to have pioneered wherein a DM can determine the attributes of NPCs, description of a locale, and the outcome of several different potential situations all in a single roll of a 4-sider. 

But what impressed me the most about this book--and this is embarrassing for me to admit--is that it's so freaking cute!  I was expecting a softcover 8.5x11" deal with removable cover and a map on the inside; you know, like old school modules.  But no!  This is one of those tiny, slender, little hardcover books that make you want to put it on the shelf between Dr. Seuss's Hop on Pop and the complete set of Little golden Books you got (as a/for your) kid.  Except that the book is all gothy black with Zak S.'s distinctive, grim, claustrophobic artwork all over the place.  In fact, just looking at the annotated elevation of the "Typical tower" on page 34 for more than 5 minutes will cause neuroses in the average reader and even vertigo in exceptional cases.  Excuse me, I have to go clear my head for a moment.

And there on the dust jacket, though I've seen the image a million times all over the internets, is that picture of Mandy Morbid--at least I assume that the pink mohawkish hair is Mandy's--standing knee-deep in snow and taking a whack at a peryton with her flail.  But what I didn't notice until I held the book in my hands is that each of the points in the peryton's antlers has a candle burning in it--which immediately brings to mind the ol' Hand of Glory.  I'm pretty sure that the peryton was taunting Mandy who clearly has first dibs on the term "Rack of Glory."

Appendix NF: Subterranean reading

We've all heard more than enough about the famous Appendix N from the original DMG; if you haven't it's basically a bibliography compiled by Gary Gygax of the literature that inspired Dungeons & Dragons.   But I've long wondered what some of the nonfiction titles might have been that egged EGG along in his effort to cobble together a fantastical subterranean medieval combat and treasure seeking role playing game.  In my head I've been calling this list "Appendix NF"--pretty clever, eh?--and with my recent discovery of Cliff Castles and Cave Dwellings of Europe by Sabine Baring-Gould, I've found a solid contender for my own D&D bibliography.

Published in 1911, the book describes in anecdotal form hundreds of different subterranean refuges and the often eccentric nature of the inhabitants.  A century ago when the book was first published, several of these caves were still home to different segments of society--a rumored druidic cult in Loire France, vacationers in the Riviera, or a society of outcasts living in benign destitution, again in France.  These and more are described in the awesomely titled chapter "Modern Troglodytes."  Other game-boner inspiring chapter titles include "Cliff Castles," "Cave Oracles," "Robber Dens," and "Rock Sepulchres."   The number of potential dungeon ideas is endless.  If snippets like this one: "I visited old Edrie--the subterranean labyrinthic residence of King Og--on the east side of the Zanite hills" aren't enough to get your dungeon-making juices flowing then I doubt you're even reading this.

There are some illustrations in this book as well; old timey sketches by the author and occasional photographs--though not nearly enough of them to satisfy the visual demands of a 21st century gamer. But the antiquated, anglo-rific prose reeks of Lovecraft at times, such as when "A mass of cretaceous tufa has slipped bodily down to the foot of the crag."  And at a century old, this book has probably been in the public domain since well before you were born, which explains why it is readily available from numerous print-on-demand outlets as well as for those downloady computer book thingies that non-cavemen read on the bus all the time.  Hell, go over to Project Gutenberg and you'll be reading the thing for free in like 3 clicks of your mouse.

More Creepy Reading: The Dionaea House

The Dionaea House is like The House of Leaves in internet form; its creepiness will suck you in, but it gives the added perk that you feel like you're actually discovering something horrible all on your very own.  And maybe you are.   Another bonus: you can read this one right now, without leaving your computer, while you're supposed to be paying attention to that boring-ass conference call you're stuck on.

Holiday Reading

Imagine Thomas Pynchon, working as a sports writer for the Daedalus Journal of Arts and Sciences, is covering a heavyweight bout between M.C. Escher and Jorge Luis Borges.  After quaffing a few cervezas in honor of Borges--who won by KO in the 6th round, though Escher came back in the 11th and busted a chair over his head to force a decision--Pynchon gets lost on the grounds of the Overlook Hotel in Colorado and is never seen again.  Much later, Jon Krakauer finds Pynchon's sprawling report in the restrooms of a long abandoned subway station.  Krakauer submits it to his editor, Will Shortz, who personally sets the type and runs the presses.  If you're still here then check out  House of Leaves by Mark Z. Danielewski.