By Peter Racek Wolfhill Entertainment 1e Level: Fuck you
A monstrous iceberg slowly drifts on the ocean currents from its home in the frigid Northlands. Imprisoned within, a horrific terror awaits! Will you be brave enough to uncover its hidden secrets?
This twelve page adventure uses six pages to details three levels of an iceberg with about fifteen encounter areas. I use that term lightly. There is nothing here but environmental traps, a small dragon, and a degree of padding that makes pay per word sing.
Well, this ones easy. So much so that I’m writing this on Sunday, drinking beer and eating fruit peebles.
It’s race day! I’m squeeing in a review because memorial day and tuesday morning and wednesday are going to be rough for me. I’m drinking beer, eating fruit peebles (Yum! I forgot how delicious they were! Its like candy!) and making wine in the instapot. You dump in some grape juice, add some sugar and year and set it on warm for two days. Later today I’m going to engage in some mild vandalism by driving around 465 and adding “& Gretzky scores!” signs to all of the pop up “Jesus Saves” signs that have appeared around the interstate. OMG! I’m going to eat this entire box of cereal dry! I’m hoping for a good passout right after I finish this review, either from the sugar crash or the beer. Also, my girlfriend has asked me to buy almond milk for her rice krispies. Is that good? Is oak milk noticeably different? Why is this important for the review? Well …
This thing stinks, and I have to do SOMETHING to fill up the time before I die.
Ok, so, iceberg comes ashore. There’s a crack in it. There’s some dumb hook ass shit, with drawven iron coins and sheep missing and so on, but that’s all crap. There’s a crack in it. Go poke your fucking head in!
OMG, I’m problematically eating this fruity peebles! I’m quite sure it is what the bible referred to as ‘Mana’. Also, breakfast in bed was a giant bowl of kale. Maybe that’s the issue. I want to not hate life and find some small joy so I’m self destructivly eating fruit peebles? Ug! My bro cat is trying to drink my beer! He also likes chicken wings. You do NOT fight with my cat. He’s 35 pounds … and not fat.
So, three levels. Although the third level is one room. The other two are essentially one big room each with maybe some alcomvey things. It’s basically one room on each level. Some of you may be worrying about monster reactions. Don’t worry! There are none!
There are no monsters. Well, there’s one. A dragon. A young wyrmling. It has HP each to the parties total life points. It has a THACO equal to the second most proficient player in the party. Did I mention there’s no level range listed? I guess that’s how it’s done. So, no monsters. A dragon. A tiny one. You’re told to stalk the party and do some hit and run shit after they make some noise and it wakes up. Whatever. I’m bored.
Oh, you know, the other thing in a level range is treasure. There is essentially none in this. Maybe a thousand coins, total. And, of course: “At the Game Masters discretion, one or two
common magical items are also present frozen within the ice Mound.” MY FUCKING DISCRETION IS THAT YOU DO THE FUCKING WORK AND PPUT IN SOME FUCKING MAGIC ITEMS!” Why the fuck do people still do this? I can put in whatever I want, whenever I want. Of course i fucking can. I can kill the party with suddenly metastasizing ovarian cancer whenever I want. I’m the fucking DM. It’s your job, as te designer, to offer me something to work with. Clearly, that ain’t fucking happening here.
Did I mention how delicious fruit peebles are? I wonder why Joyce had tha shitty salt rise bread in Ulysses instead of fruit peebles? I feel like they would have been much happier people eating fruity peebles.
About every “room”/area has some environmental shit in it. The ceiling collapses. The floor collapses. If you weigh more than 175# then you fall through a holes, etc. This smacks of the party never having relatives so the DM can’t fuck with them. “My character weighs 80#. Fuck your traps.” I get it, I get it. But EVERYTHING is an environmental trap? I guess we’re just not trying too hard these days. I mean, EVERY room? This is boring. Maybe just wait for the thing to melt, kill the dragon outside, and pay some people to loot the ocean floor for you, all Hearst style? That’s the kind of thinking that makes D&D great!
I just stuck my hand in the fruity peebles box and shoved a handful in my mouth. Then I did it AGAIN, before I had even chewed the first batch. It was wonderful. Also, I’m a fan of Rhinegeist Truth IPA. It reminds me a bit of Red Hook and Goose island, but a little more aggressive. I’m drinking a half case of Miller Lite later today, as a joke. Cause it’s race day and that’s what you do.
Ok, the writing and formatting. A living hell. “Depending on which path the Players choose will determine how they encounter the arctic dragon remains.” Upon seeing a dead dragon “Unless the Player succeeds on an extremely difficult Perception type roll they should fall prone and be terrified in shock, unable to do anything for 1d4 rounds.” or “If Players are scared to further explore the area the Game Master can make theice near the entrance break and have them fall into the lower area, forcing them to return back near the remains of the dragon” or “Since the calving of the iceberg from its glacial home, the once very stable floor has destabilized and is now filled with deep cracks.” or “Warm air from the outside mixes with
the inner cold air to create a light mist that fills the entirety of the first level. This mist prevents all vision past the distance of 60’ unless magical As a quiz, for the readers at home. Explain why these examples were cited. I’m too weary in my soul. “
The fucking cat is now dragging beer cans out of the recycling to tip on their side to drink. Man, that dude has a problem.
So. An adventure with nothing in it. Generic. Not Good.
This is $1 at drivethru. There’s no preview. FUck off man.
You think this is a joke. You think this is a persona. I wish, in fact, it was. No, our lives are merely what they are. And mine is thus. Fruit Peebles no longer holds joy for me, only regret.