D&D Strategy idea: suppose a party (just for example, the one on the blog) is in a fairly high risk but linear situation: like, say, we're heading toward the entrance to the citadel of light, but there's probably some ghoulies gonna jump out at us along the way.

Does it seem to be a good/bad idea to send one guy forward to "beat the bushes"? Points for this seem to be:

• Party gets to choose the likely target, instead of having the magic users get smacked
• Party's good ranged attacks can potentially be used along with good melee attacks
• Attacks and traps that could affect several party members only get one

In addition, if the front guy can be sneaky, there's the chance of detecting ambushes, traps, et cetera before setting them off.

In the negative category is really only one big one that I can see, with its various corollaries:

• Increases chance of the party getting separated.

Now, getting separated can work out very badly. And this scheme definitely opens the possibility that the point man could fall down a pit, or get surrounded, or otherwise spirited away from the party.

But realistically, how often is that going to happen when it wasn't going to happen already? If a wall falls down between the party and the lead, it might have been to cut off a retreat -- in which case it's not such a bad idea to have people on the other side who can maybe rescue you -- or it was to cut the party in half, maybe with someone under the wall.

So, now that the blog party is walkin' the halls of the Citadel of Light, howzabout Barik (or someone) tries to tiptoe ahead and play scout (not when we're up against doorways, but for those long halls)?

If there were any regular readers of this website, I'd apologize to them for not putting anything up in so long. Oops, there's Scott, so somebody's watching... :)

Anyhow, I was just looking through the Standard Reference Document when I should've been working, and came up with the following fun facts that make me feel more impressed about Barik:

Barik has a 50/50 chance to know any basic (but not common knowledge) fact about: aberrations, caverns, oozes, spelunking; lands, terrain, climate, people; animals, fey, giants, monstrous humanoids, plants, seasons and cycles, weather, or vermin.

He's got a 50/50 chance to track (checking each mile) a lone orc walking through a stream. On a moonless night. If the orc's walking on normal firm ground, Barik would have the same 50/50 chance to follow the trail on the same overcast night even if it was 2 days old, and it had been raining for three hours.

I also note that Barik can take a Survival check to get a Fortitude save bonus to avoid suffering the ill effects of inclement weather (not the slowing down, but colds and stuff.) His fortitude save is pretty good, so this wouldn't be significant except that for every point he exceeds the check by, he can give the bonus to another member of the party. Something to remember the next time we're slogging through the rain. (If we're standing still, like when we're in camp, the bonus is +4 instead of +2.)

From the d-n-dblog: (The 3.5 PH at least just says you get a critical hit on a coup de gras, but you have to roll the damage.)

I wonder if there's a "hole" in the rules here. A rogue gets sneak attack damage on a coup de gras, which is an "optional extra damage" option. By the same token, it sorta seems like you should be allowed to use Power Attack for a coup de gras. Of course, since you're guaranteed a hit, it seems like a good munchkin would say "I take -20 from the attack bonus to add +20 to damage" (or more, if you're using two hands). That'd sure make those coups against sleeping dragons a lot more effective.

I've done only rudimentary research, but I can't find a resolution of this issue in the Main D&D FAQ or the 3.5 Main FAQ. I suspect the answer is something somewhat lame like "technically, Power Attack can only be used for melee attacks, and a coup de grace doesn't involve a melee attack". That is, the phrase "deliver a coup de grace with a melee weapon" is not equivalent to "make a melee attack". Those clever D&D rules lawyers.

Replying to Jacob's kibitzing about mounted combat:

Personally, my first instinct was that the whole "directing the warhorse to fight" thing was dirty pool -- I mean, you don't see the horses going at each other in Ivanhoe or whatever. The horses rear up sometimes and windmill their front hooves, but they never hit anything, as far as I can recall.

I can totally imagine some nasty robber baron knocking over some poor peasant with his horse, and maybe the peasant could get whacked with the horse's hooves. I kinda figure the trample feat would cover that, though.

So having horses (that you're riding on) fight just seems weird. With wolves and other possible mounts, it makes more sense, but even then, the idea of a full attack is kinda weird, and surely various feats like Improved Trip or Improved Grapple shouldn't work as well if the mount isn't free to roll around or use both forelegs at the same time. And lions have Pounce, where they can do damage with their hind claws, which seems like the rider should have to make another Ride check for the Leap or something.

I guess that if you were going to go with the "everybody can attack anybody" concept, you can pursue the notion that a round is a very busy 6 seconds, and that's enough time for critters to rear up and fall back down, so a horse can rear up and clock an opposing rider with its hooves, then fall to earth and its rider can poke a sword in the other mount's ribs. This would work a lot easier if the horses are in a T-shape, rather than head-to-head, but horses aren't 5 feet across either, so we can just assume that's part of the simplification of the combat system.

[Hm. I see now that the example DCs given in the 3rd ed. DMG for some skills don't match up with the DCs in the v.3.5 PH. Sigh. Why didn't they just call it version 4 and put me out of my misery? Interesting thought for later: D&D is like Open Source Development.]

Anyhow, the DC to get a combat-ready mount to fight in addition to your attack is 10, the same DC it takes to tie a firm knot or find out the current gossip -- in other words, something any old peasant can do right at least half the time. You can view this in two ways. The more charitable approach is to suppose that "battle-ready" means the mount is like a guard dog, and will practically fight on its own anyway, so directing them to attack one target while you attack the other is a piece of cake (maybe it bites the leg of the rider or something). The more bitchy approach, which I naturally favor on principle, is that the DC for this is obviously too low, unless you put serious restrictions on what the mount's attack can be.

Such restrictions could include:
- the mount can only make a single primary attack, not a full attack
- the mount can attack with its teeth, but not an attack that requires its feet
- the mount can only attack other creatures on the ground, not mounted creatures
- the mount can attack with its feet, but such attacks can only be upon creatures at least one size category smaller than it
- the mount cannot make any special attacks (Improved Trip, Pounce, etc.)
- a mount provides its rider with cover from other mounts
- the mount can't attack in a way that the DM thinks is unfeasible.

The last one always applies, I suppose. I also wouldn't mind distinguishing horses (which essentially never bite in a combat way) from other mounts (I have no idea what a griffon would usually do.)

We are near two issues, one of which D&D developers have always tried to ignore and the other they've started to devote some energy to. The second issue is size: an itty-bitty rider should make little difference to a mount (would a red dragon really be much restricted because someone was on his back?), but a warpony with a fully armored dwarf on its back (for example) can't really be expected to do more than carry him around. Although D&D has all kinds of size modifiers and stuff, when it comes to this kind of thing, I think they're hoping to ignore it -- the little critter in each case isn't going to make that much difference to the battle, so why make an exception in the rules?

The other part, which D&D mostly abhors, is wound location and direction of attack. A wolf could easily bite at a rider's leg, but getting a horse to do damage with its hooves takes some gymnastics. And should a chain shirt's AC count for an attack on a leg? Dropping a rock on someone's head is a lot more likely to knock them out than throwing it at their chest. A knee-high fence between combatants shouldn't really offer much cover -- it's not like you're aiming at their feet. Should it be as useful (+4 to AC) as a chain shirt? Maybe if you crouch behind it -- but surely that would give a penalty to your attack bonus, no? Clearly, this starts a nightmare of complexity that is better left alone. There's no obvious place to draw the line.

From that perspective, 'twould be better to just accept the somewhat funny looking rules, and hope that the weird cases don't come up much -- either from DM/player choices (the current campaign mostly has mounts fighting each other, and riders fighting each other) or from strategic issues (if a mount can do damage to the mount, but the AC of a rider is generally too much for it, the "smart thing" is also the most "realistic").

D&D 3rd ed. movement rates, post #1:
-------------------------------------------

First of all, I want to say that I think the folks behind the 3rd (and 3.5) edition did a very good job at including enough detail about moving around for it to be tactically important, without bogging down. The simplicity of the system is brilliant.

My interest in this started when (over on the d-n-d blog) we had some people running behind some people on horses. Actually, my interest started before that, because my character's a dwarf, for whom movement rates are an important consideration. Dwarves have the racial disadvantage of having the base movement of a small character (20'), without the advantages (or other disadvantages) of being small (+1 to hit and AC, +4 to hide, less weight capacity and smaller weapons). [Parenthetically, a dwarf's speed doesn't go down if he carries more or wears heavy armor, so with some weight on him, he essentially reverts to what other normal-sized characters are like with the same encumbrance.]

So, let's talk about human speeds first, and compare horses later. Rules summary: the normal character base move is 30', meaning a move action in combat moves you up to 30'. Small characters (and dwarves) have a base move of 20'. A character can take up to two move actions in a six-second round, or if the character is all-out running, they can go 4 times as fast (for a human, that's 120' in a round.) The time scaling of movement is ridiculously simple: if your base move is 30' in a round, in a minute you're going 300', and for longer periods you're traveling at 3 mph. (That's multiply by 10 for distance in a minute, and divide by ten and change units to mph for longer distances.) For the larger scales, you can hustle, which means you go twice as fast, for an hour before you start suffering ill effects, and you can run (four times as fast) for a minute (or a little more if you have a high Constitution, but more than 3 minutes is nigh impossible.) Note that normal combat is hustling, since you can make two moves in a round. One last wrinkle: if you have the Run feat, your run is 5x your base move, instead of just 4x.

Note that this conversion cheats just a little: it would be exact if there were 6000 feet in a mile. Since there are only 5,280 feet/mile, this means that the long-term rate of speed (even walking) is a little bit slower over an hour than over a few minutes. A convenient simplification, and I can't really argue it's not realistic: I certainly don't walk as fast when I'm going for hours. It does mean that if you're traveling for half an hour, a good munchkin should try to convince the DM to use the ft/min and multiply by 30, rather than the mph divided by 2. :)

So, how fast are D&D speeds relative to the real world? Well, 3 mph is a brisk walk, and the average person can walk that fast all day with no trouble (assuming good conditions). 6 mph (hustling) is a ten-minute mile; from personal experience I can say that an average/healthy person can do this for an hour, and an athletic person can keep up that pace for longer.

Modern marathon winners run 26.21 miles in a little over 2 hours, or about 12.4 mph; in 1900, the record was around 3 hours, or 8.7 mph. Lest you think your D&D character isn't up to snuff, note that all these running rates are with virtually no weight, while a D&D character can run this fast in (light) armor and carrying considerable weapons and equipment. In addition, barbarians have a 10' increase in base speed, so they can hustle at 8 mph; the Longstrider spell has the same effect, and other magic effects (haste, Boots of Striding and Springing) can double the base speed, so characters can run (in armor) nearly as fast as a marathon champion, with a little help. In addition, a D&D character can go for hours at this speed, although this requires taking nonlethal damage. (I think it's fair to argue that marathon runners take nonlethal damage too). For example, any human 1st level fighter can run for 4 hours at 6 mph; this amounts to finishing a marathon in a little over 4 hours, which most of us can only dream of.

What about the shorter distances and time frames? At this point, I think it's safe to say that all the record holders and star running athletes are the equivalent of "having the Run feat." With that in mind, until recently (1954, when Roger Bannister proved it could be done), running a mile in under 4 minutes was thought impossible. A 4 minute mile is 15 mph, or 440 yards/minute. A running D&D human travels at 400 yards/minute, and can only do it for a few minutes; not quite a 4 minute mile. With the run feat, however, a D&D human travels at 500 yards/minute; it would take a lot of Constitution and even more luck, but if they could keep up the pace, such a character could run a mile in just over 3 and a half minutes, which would crush the current world record of 3 min 44.39sec. The chances of that are miniscule; however, a character with a high Constitution could easily run for 2 minutes (1000 yards), walk for a minute (100 yards), then run again and reach a mile in just under 4 minutes 20 seconds. Not too shabby. A barbarian can run even faster, and a barbarian with the run feat is scary to think about: such a character could conceivably run for 2 minutes, walk for one, and then run again and complete a mile in 3 min 26.4 sec, and with a decent Constitution, this could be done with regularity.

The aforementioned "barbarian with the run feat" is outrageously fast: in the other cases D&D characters are seen to be "larger than life" but still in the ballpark of today's athletes, a character who can run 200' per round is a cut above that. This character runs at just over 11 yd/s=22.7 mph, and can keep it up for at least a minute. In comparison, Michael Vick has run 40 yards in 4.25 seconds: that's 9.41 yd/s = 19.25 mph. Ben Johnson holds the world record for 50m at 5.55 seconds, which is 9.91 yd/s = 20.27 mph. As far as running for a whole minute goes, the world record for 500m (indoor) is very close to 1 minute; 500 m in 1 minute would be 9.12 yd/s = 18.65 mph. Conveniently, this would be 164' in a round: compare this with 150' (a human with the Run feat) or 160' (a barbarian without the Run feat). Pretty close, I think.

Considering the simplicity of the move system in D&D, they have done a marvelous job at making characters comparable to Olympians -- the peak of human ability, without overdoing it too much. As far as the 20' movement rate for Small characters and dwarves, I don't think there's anything in reality to compare it to -- it seems sensible that short-legged characters would move slower, and beyond that, comparing speeds with track and field records of people suffering from dwarfism seems just wrong.

Next post, I'll put up a little bit of background on horse speeds, and compare the D&D horse to the real world a little bit.

More attentive than Linnam, you mean? I'm sure Spade would make the best ranger that badgerdom has to offer. (Hmm...maybe the badger picture needs a little Robin Hood hat...)

As he sleeps, Barik dreams happy dreams of Boots of Striding and Springing, and a Giant Eagle for a mount, or sometimes a hippogriff...and a +5 chain shirt. :)

I'm fine with just leaving the training at that -- maybe there can be more discussion if Linnam's next level is also ranger. There isn't any pre-existing apprenticeship scheme that I know of.

Besides, Linnam mouths off way too much for that to ever work. :)

Of course, if we want to continue the conversation about the ways in which orcs are a blight on the land, I'm happy with that too. I brought up this idea of having this run parallel to the d-n-dblog, so that out-of-order conversations or other OOS comments can be put here and not interrupt the main storyline. If you guys think that's a good idea, let me know. I have everyone's address except John's, so I can invite the other folks if I can get his email.

I'll bet Strae the Red Avenger and Spade, the Badger from the Ninth Circle of Hell go out and have epic adventures while the rest of us are sleeping or sitting around on watch.

Hm. I reckon this is probably plenty of "learning how to do the orcs extra damage" to justify the notion that Linnam's learning some of the ways of the Stone Brothers from Barik. I'm happy to continue the discussion of tactics -- maybe we should have this blog as a kind of "idle conversation" section for the characters, where we can discuss how we want to arrange and fight and stuff in general terms. Inserting that kind of discussion in the main line can be either time-consuming or confusing (since there are important events, like encounters, that take precedence). But since we've had a few days of riding around together, we can assume we've had some "chats", and put the less significant ones here.

"Hm. Bishop, you raise interesting points. Though it may seem that in killing one leader another always rises to take his place, this cannot continue for long -- the vast majority of orcs, thankfully, are brutes with no mind for leadership or courage of their own. We have noticed the leaders because it is they who have been the most dangerous, and for this reason, I think we should concentrate our efforts on them. Like you say, they are hard to kill; in addition, they are more capable of fearsome blows. I think we would be wise to neutralize them first, because they pose the greatest threat.

"A typical orc can only give trouble to someone of our stature if he's lucky, while Grell, for example, can lay waste to many such orcs in a trice. I myself can often kill several before they have a chance to strike a blow. If we could attack them freely without running afoul of one of their overseers, that would be ideal, but generally one must deal with some of both.

"Another consideration, especially since our goal is not just to kill orcs but to proceed with the mission, is that often we may not be able to obliterate the entire opposing side. We may have to be happy with setting them to flight and continuing onward. In this, we should concentrate on the leaders, because when the leader falls, the troops may falter, but the leader, lost in the rage of battle, cares not a whit for losing half or more of his troops.

"Only rarely will we really have much choice in this: if the leaders are mounted and charge ahead, we have little choice but to face them first, and shooting arrows at the troops behind them is folly. If, on the other hand, the orcs are besieging us with missile fire, we probably won't be able to pick out leaders as targets. Given the opportunity, I would like to sneak up behind a body of troops, and decimate the main body before the leaders can react, but this would be a lucky circumstance indeed.

"When they are in our midst, and one may strike at either a grunt or a leader, I would think that the leader is more of a threat to our party and our cause. An exception may be if the leader is so well armored that nothing seems to do any damage, but perhaps then we should be running away, not fighting any of them.

"It is an interesting question. Do you have other thoughts on the subject?"

"First, they are a race used to hardship. They live in the places we would not care to visit. This means a nick here or a cut there, a lost finger or two, means little to them. With such injuries, a man or dwarf might well think it better to run away, heal his wounds, and come back to fight later -- for an orc, such thoughts only go through his mind if he's been struck with a blow that really hurts. A broken nose or foot, or a wound to the sensitive parts of the neck and upper back -- these will make an orc stop and think.

"Also, they are used to running away. Fight them in the open field, or in the sunlight, and they have a sense that this is not where they belong. There's a little technique the Stone Brothers use, in any fight in any sort of light...typically, there are all sorts of bits of shiny metal around -- your shield, your armor, your helmet, your axe -- so there are lots of dim glitters and reflections. If, right when you're going to strike, you can manage to aim some glint at the orc's eyes, they'll flinch, just a bit. It's not enough to really distract them, but when you get a blow in right at that little quailing, it'll do far more damage than if they steel themselves for it.

"Also, they are a short-lived, fast-breeding race. An orc who can't father children is worthless in his society. Striking at their eyes is no good -- they worship a half-blind god, after all -- but threaten to unman an orc, and he'll practically cut off his own leg rather than let your blade get near there. Heh.

"Perhaps most important, many orcs are slaughtered because they underestimate the dwarves they face -- but the reverse is also true. Orcs are a plague, but among them are powerful wizards, and fierce barbarians, and crafty assassins. Where a human or dwarf community has artists and entertainers and craftsmen, orc society is almost exclusively centered on warmaking, and every talent is used toward that end. The chaos of a battlefield in disarray is an orc's true home, and he is more comfortable there than any other place. If one were to impose order on the battlefield, the orc would be out of place, but that is not always possible.

"It is pride and laziness that have led us to this peril -- starting with Kray's overconfidence and Little John's poor discipline, and most recently with Drusilla's inability to control how much she drinks. In between, we've had arguments for no reason but arrogance, and fought battles poorly that should have gone well, because we assumed we faced `just a hobgoblin,' for instance. I worry that if we do not accept the humility we have so painfully earned, our quest will go awry ere we see Taur'egk's stronghold."

[Ya like the little back-foreshadowing? :) ]

"Excellent! You've got quite a clever mind in that head of yours. But here's a bit of advice, not as a teacher of wildcraft, but just an observer of...well, I would call it `dwarfness', but you probably call it `human nature'. In my experience, the cleverest people run the risk of being too clever -- their intelligence can lead them faster than their wisdom, if you see what I'm saying. I know several very smart dwarves who come up with ideas about what they can do, and act on them without considering what they should do, if you see what I mean. You didn't mean any of the dwarves I have in mind in Argunn Lode -- thanks mostly to Kinvol's careful politicking. I'm not the most popular dwarf there, as you may have picked up on, and I doubt the dwarves I'm thinking of would have taken a liking to anyone else in our party either -- well, maybe Alonzo.

"Anyway, back to business. While I suspect that the gods do not particularly favor the orcs, there isn't much we could do with that information anyway. On the other hand, it is assuredly true that the more civilized races have better things to do than clean out the darkest shadows and the most miserable caves of every last orc. I would take issue with the notion that the dwarves are not mighty enough to destroy the orcs, but in any case we do not try to. If they're not bothering us, we will brew beer and sculpt statues and raise families, until they start to bother us again.

"Your third point is well taken, but is an unfortunate effect of our natures, more than that of the orcs. So let us dispense with your first and third points as valid but not in my field. The second and fourth points are closely linked: we do not hunt down the orcs in every thorny fen and slimy cave, partly because those areas are so uninhabitable and undesirable, and that is exactly where orcs thrive and fester.

"And your fifth point, ties in with these two as well -- orcs beget orcs at such speed that even if you overlooked only a score of orcs in some swamp warren, the next season there would be two score, and next year a cave complex would be crawling with them, with a few warrens spreading further afield. I have seen some human towns, and there are humans in Argunn Lode, and I think I can say that you don't have children at anywhere near the rate orcs do. From what I have seen, it seems that orcs always have a litter, rather than a single child -- surely some of those die in infancy, but four or five grow to adulthood. That's just speculation -- maybe they have young so quickly that it only seems like they were all born at once. We should ask Grell -- if he grew up among them, he would know.

"So, we beat them back to a few crevices and holes, and there they swiftly repopulate, and come to attack us again. What does this tell us about their strengths and weaknesses?"

"Exactly! Exactly so! I would not be able to trace the patterns and disruptions of the city as you do, but the principle is just the same, I think. After all, people are part of the world around them, though we seek to bend our surroundings to our will. Certainly the politics of Argunn Lode are not so different from the struggles of the wild, though they may pretend to something higher. Now I am curious to see the big city, and hear your observations on its rhythms!

"But I forget -- it will require much time and much luck for us to come to that. For now, I am supposed to be teaching you what I know about these wilds of my home -- `the deep caverns of coldstone and and mountains in the sky,' as it's been called. So consider this: when one wolf-pack wanders into another's territory, there is usually considerable fuss, and posturing, and growling and howling. But most of the time, little actual violence. One pack decides it is the weaker, and moves on. But sometimes, when the winter has been hard, and neither pack is clearly stronger, neither is willing to leave. And then it comes to blood, and the luck and fate of battle decide which is weaker, which stronger.

"This is not so different with people: kingdom has fought against kingdom, whether dwarf, or human, or something else again. But like the wolves, there is more often posturing, and rattling of swords, and maybe skirmishes here and there, and then the two groups have a sense of each other's measure, and go back to a more peaceful life.

"But what of the orcs? I tell you this, because your history may not say: dwarves have fought orcs for centuries upon centuries, and I have heard it is the same with elves, and with humans: all of us have been at war with the orcs for as long as there have been scribes to record it. First, why do you suppose this is, and second, with all the magic of the elves, and the puissance of the dwarves, and the adaptability of the humans, why haven't the orcs been destroyed?

"These may well be unanswerable questions, though I'm interested to hear your thoughts."

"Consider, Linnam, that fowl over there. He (that one's a cock, as you can tell by the large tail and colorful neck) has a place and a purpose. He has only a few goals in life: to eat when hungry, to sleep when tired, second to survive, and first, to couple and have children. What does he eat? Bugs, mostly, for which I thank him, because if he didn't, they'd be crawling all over us. What eats him? Us, when we have a mind and for which I thank him again, and foxes, and wolves. So just seeing this fine fellow, we also know a pack of wolves isn't likely to be nearby, or else they'd have gotten him by now -- wolves would never pass up such a fine meal.

"He is a part of nature, and his very presence tells us about the flow of nature around us. Consider, now, the orc: where does he fit in? What are his goals in life?

Ahhh....I will strive to learn from your wise words. :) Like you say, it sounds like either way would be good.

Why is Woodland Stride super useful? I read what it does, and it just doesn't seem like it would come up that much.

I think I'd want to keep Spade, but transformed into a dire badger. I might have to rename him Shovel then. :)

Out of the in-game conversation, I wanted to express here my plans for Barik's future. I've been thinking that this party doesn't really have much resilience in our front line (Barik and Alonzo have demonstrated they don't quite have either high enough AC, or high enough hit points, to really hold the line, and Grell shouldn't really be up front all the time anyway.) Well, we can hardly blame the DM for that (this isn't griping, Scott, I swear!)

So the next couple of levels, I plan to give to Barik as fighter levels. That sacrifices primarily skill points, and secondarily some reflex save and some movement/tracking enhancements, and (at 8th level) a 2nd level spell. But in return, Barik gets more hp (probably), and a feat each level. Those feats can be defensive (Dodge, then Two-Weapon Defense, so essentially +2 to AC) or offensive (Point Blank Shot and Quick Draw, say, or Great Cleave and Improved Critical, etc.) or a mix.

Characterwise, it seems like it would fit -- Barik's just been killed, and he might be more focused on surviving in combat than in climbing, tracking, etc.

This willy-nilly multiclassing is new to me, but I think I've figured this much out. Let me know what you think, and any feat suggestions you might have.

"Hm. Well, I must say, your head is more often than not in the right place, and I feel we'll need more than our share of clear thinking on this perilous mission. And I think you might find your city-born talents quite useful out here, if you were a bit more comfortable with the great wilderness. And who knows, it may be I won't be around to lead the survivors back home, and someone else will have to guide them.

"Very well. I will show you a little, if I can, of this land and how to make your way in it. The Brothers of the Stone Dragon are known for our ability to track orcs for miles across hard ground, and then take them apart like a butcher might joint a rabbit, or perhaps a better analogy would be like a gemcutter cleaves a crystal. That is what we are known for, but such abilities come from a source that few expect. Other dwarves have fought orcs as much or more as us, and yet understand them less. Why?

"The Stone Brothers approach the problem from a broader perspective, and with a broader philosophy. To track orcs, one learns to track any creature. To learn an orc's strengths and weaknesses, one doesn't look at one orc, or a hundred orcs, but at the grand scope of where and how the orcs live, the creatures that surround them and affect them, and their weaknesses become apparent. In short, we learn about nature first, and any particular creature or task is just a piece of that broad tapestry.

"I promise you, I will teach you things much more specific, and concrete, but it begins with this big picture. And the awareness that in this vastness, you yourself, even all of dwarvenkind and humankind, are really a rather small part. As the miners often say, "You cannot move the slab, and you should not try. But you can know where the slab will go. Learn to know what the rock will do before it does it, and get out of the way." These mountains, these forests, they have come before us and will leave after us. We dwarves and the orcs try to own it and control it, and pretend it is ours, which is foolish. But the Brothers of the Stone Dragon watch the mountains, the rivers, the animals, understand their comings and goings -- and then the traces of orcs appear like ripples in a pond, revealing the thrown pebble by their disruption."

(If we happened to be passing a pond or puddle or something, Barik demonstrates what he means. Alternatively, the same point can be made by tossing a stick at a bush with a grouse under it, or a tree full of birds.)

The next few posts are (pending agreement from the other parties) going to be roleplaying a previous conversation in the D&D blog, between Linnam (Jacob Levy) and Barik (Bob Wieman, aka me). This way, the conversation can be a real conversation, but it doesn't appear on the main blog until it's been sorted out, at which point everyone can read it in one block, rather than reading something like:

Drusilla: I hack the kobold next to me in two!

Barik: And now Linnam, consider the orc. Now, the orc doesn't really think about it, but his whole religion is obsessed with his eyes. He worships a one-eyed orc god every day, and that image is so ingrained in him that if you poke out one of his eyes, he feels this rush of energy, as he realizes he is now the image of his god. Instead of making him less powerful, you've accidentally given him delusions of grandeur. Therefore, the best path is to go for his legs, or arms, and avoid the face altogether.

Barik: Oh, and I throw an axe into the kobold leader.

Linnam: Ah, I see what you are saying, Barik. So not only do you seek to cripple the enemy, but to cripple him in the way that he considers most crippling.

Grell: Linnam, quit jabbering and get the hell over here and flank this bugbear!