Monstrous humanoids in Dead Queens of Morvena are known as ‘fiends’. Goblins, prolific monstrous humanoids in any stock fantasy setting, are wanton gluttons in the wilds of the Fetherruin. Monster description and stats by Charles Dickey; art by Rob Torno.
Goblin illustration by Rob Torno
Goblins
Goblins are ravenous and animalistic fiends who typically settle in crude villages with a population between 30 and 50 adults. They are almost exclusively food-oriented and spend much of their time hunting game and gathering food. Although their intelligence level is generally very low and their recipes are odious by human standards, they consider themselves great culinary artists. Goblin chefs are highly esteemed, and the best chef often assumes a position of dominance within the village. This goblin is called “Big Chef” by the other goblins in the village, and is the recipient of many ingredient “gifts”. Conversely, the Big Chef is often treated roughly by those who bring him gifts; hungry goblins with ingredients are incredibly impatient. According to custom, the goblins that have gathered the ingredients are entitled to the meal that Big Chef creates using their gifts. Goblin etiquette, such that it is, requires Big Chef to combine all of the ingredients to create a feast exclusively for the group of goblins that supplied the ingredients. Big Chef’s position of privilege within goblin society does allow him to join any feast that he fixes for any group. Because of this, Big Chefs are often obese. They rarely venture out of the village, because they are almost always occupied in cooking a big meal.
Goblin society is a tenuous and rude affair. Villages are made from the most basic materials or none at all; some are simply burnt clearings in the woods where goblins eat and sleep. Yet even a simple burnt clearing has a huge stone-encircled fire pit as its central point, where Big Chef keeps court and cooks. Marriage is non-existent and goblins mate with whomever they please, although most are more interested in eating. Goblin metabolism is prodigious and they leave droppings wherever they go. Attempts to Track goblins are made at +2.
Attributes: Agility d6, Smarts d4, Spirit d4, Strength d6, Vigor d6
Skills: Climb d4, Fighting d6, Notice d4, Taunt d6, Throwing d4, Tracking d6
Pace: 6; Parry: 5; Toughness: 4
Gear: spear, stone axe, club, or other primitive weapon
Special Abilities:
- Low Light Vision: Goblins ignore attack penalties for Dim and Dark lighting.
- Size: -1
Edited by Cassey Toi
So here’s the problem I see with this particular entry: goblin’s culture being based around cuisine, to the point where there leader is the “Big Chef,” smacks of nothing but humor. To almost all players, the fact that the biggest, baddest goblin in the village wears a floppy white hat (it doesn’t matter if he does — they will picture him that way) will cause gigglefits.
Normally I’m not against humor in roleplaying games, though I am of the school of thought that believes the humor comes from interaction, not elements baked into the story. Still, in most supplements I would see this as a clever thing.
However, another Queens of Mordeva blog post asserted the following:
“This is definitely not heroic fantasy, although it has standard fantasy trappings. It’s horror–or perhaps tragedy. It’s fantasy subverted by horror. Certainly the PCs should act heroically, but this is not a setting where they are going to save the day and set things right in adventure after adventure. Adventures in this setting are more about survival, exploration, and acting in the face of incredible opposition.”
Culinary-themed goblins, in my humble opinion, just don’t belong in a setting that’s trying to achieve this level of horror or dark tragedy. Outside of this, it’s a clever concept.
Thanks for the feedback, Shane. Let me present another perspective. Even the darkest of stories can benefit from a little humor. The intention here is not that ridiculous goblins will spoil the grimness of the tale; rather, by interjecting a bit of humor into the product the depth is increased. When it comes down to it, I think most veteran fantasy role-playing gamers see “beginner monsters” like goblins and kobolds as just cannon fodder–so they aren’t really taken very seriously no matter what. Introducing this silly, wacky element into a horror tale serves as a counterbalance to the grit and overwhelming odds that make up the bulk of the adventure.
Now the alternative would be to make the goblins spooky, serious, and threatening… and… wait, we’ve go that too. Redcaps are solitary, stalking goblins that want to wear your head as a hat.
As the lead developer of this product, I’m clearly biased, but I think that good stories and good games can be complex enough to accommodate different moods and shades of emotion. A story or game that is nothing but deep, dark, gritty trauma will be engaging only until it becomes redundant, predictable, and boring.
I should mention that these goblins, although given a fair amount of attention here, are not big players in the adventure. This entry is from the bestiary section of the book.
Anyone else have thoughts on this?
@SHANE – You make a good point; but gluttony is – afterall – one of the Sevens Sins, no? There’s nothing funny about that. Perhaps the way to portray them is to really overemphasize the gluttony aspects of goblin life. Perhaps they are like maggots — eating everything they can find. We could tweak their crunch/statblock to reflect this aspect.
With enough gross references we may be able to soil the silly cooking goblin image enough to make it believable and horrific all the same.
(although, I admit, jolly fat goblins with chef hats is gdmn hilarious…)
Perhaps something like this? (brainstorming here)
Goblins
Attributes: Agility d6, Smarts d4, Spirit d4, Strength d6, Vigor d6
Skills: Climb d4, Fighting d6, Notice d4, Taunt d6, Throwing d4, Tracking d6
b>Pace: 6; Parry: 5; Toughness:4
Gear: spear, stone axe, club, or other primitive weapon
Special Abilities:
Low Light Vision: Goblins ignore attack penalties for Dim and Dark lighting.
Hunger Frenzy: All goblins have a favorite food, and will quickly work themselves into a frenzy in its presence. Goblins gain a +1 bonus to all trait rolls and ignore their first wound when in line of sight of their favorite food. In addition, the frenzy will last for 1d4 hours and they suffer a -2 penalty on all Tests of Will while it is in effect.
Goblin Starvation: Goblins must eat their own weight in food every day. Those who do not eat begin to starve (see Savage Worlds rules for Hunger).
Size: -1
We should also take into consideration what the goblins are dining upon. If it is pumpkin rat tail soup then we can’t take that as seriously as if a human hand bobs to the top of the broth. If that hand belongs to a missing child from a local village and she’s hanging (alive or dead) in a nearby larder we’re firmly back in the realm of horror.
I had a similar reaction to Shane when I originally read the post yesterday morning. I don’t mind a bit of humor even in horrific situations; I know I had spots of it in my old World of Darkness chronicle and I managed to keep that pretty nightmare-instilling. However, this seemed a bit out of place.
Charles, Jonathan, and Rob all raise good points. I think goblins are going to be viewed as piddling squirts no matter what anyone does with them. Even if they don’t come across as comical, typical RPG associations are going to dull their horrific aspects around the edge a bit.
I think my major issue is just with the term “Big Chef.” It’s clever and funny, but a bit jarring given the setting. I can dig goblins–even in a horror setting–being a bit kooky and comical, but for whatever subconscious reason “Big Chef” throws it into the realm of silly. As I read, that’s what puts the big white hats and bad French accents on them in my mind. And while “funny” can have its place in horror, I don’t think “silly” can.
That said, I promise not to cry if you keep it.
A page or two of this isn’t going to prevent me from buying the product, for sure. It’s going to end up on my bookshelf next to Deadlands Reloaded, the only other Savage Worlds setting I own.
Maybe it is the title “big chef” as Rosthorn suggests. Perhaps I do need to err more towards the gluttonous goblins preferring to eat gross or horrifying things.
I’m always a fan of making fun of real-world things in games. For example: in The Hidden Kingdom I wrote in the names of the stores for the city of Corwyn that were relavent to the story. One to them — Corwyn Variety Store — is called the CVS. =D
Maybe… instead of calling him Big Chef – we call him “The Gord’On Ramsay” – a special title given to the chief of each goblin tribe.
OK.. I JEST! I JEST!
Perhaps the thing to do is simply not call them goblins? All the other mooks in DQM have some pretty creepy names. (as you will see over the next couple weeks).
Ah yes. I recently received my very own copy of The Hidden Kingdom, and when I read over that particular part of the adventure I chuckled, then groaned, then swore a solemn oath before dark gods that I would find and soundly throttle the individual responsible for such text. And now, Jonathan Jacobs, the time of reckoning is upon you!
“Goblins” is fine as a term. With the write-up as it stands, giving them an especially grim name would make the discord with “Big Chef” even more pronounced. I.e. if you are going to get away with such things, goblins are the monsters to do it with.
Anyway, it’s reasonable. I was thinking about this earlier. One of the scarier villains in a non-horror D&D game I ran was a kobold named Grand Master Poker Pajikala (a very silly name), and I’d only intended him to be slightly menacing. I think the sharp contrast between him and the other, more frenetic and comical kobolds really startled the players and led to this kind of at-the-table mythology about him that I’d never intended. So I ran with it.
By the same token, culinary goblins aren’t a wash even in a horror setting. Probably the important thing to take away from all this is, depending on the tone of the rest of the book, it may be rather jarring to the reader. So keep that in mind as you go along, and keep up the good work!
This conversation is a really great one, and I think this kind of thing is fundamental to how we want Nevermet Press to work. Community feedback is key to creating products that are enjoyable and tailored to the needs and desires of gamers.
I’d like to follow up this very productive post with a revision of the goblins which builds on the input of this thread. Look for it in the next week or two. The humor will be retained, but it will be darker. While goblins may not be much of a threat to hardy, seasoned adventurers, a goblin tribe lurking in the woods outside of New Morvena should be a menace to the more common folk. Goblins may not be tough enough to infiltrate the walls of the town and steal babies to cook, but they could be enough of a nuisance to raid cattle pens during the night, or deplete the nearby woodlands of vital foodstuffs. And when young people go missing, it should be plausible to the inhabitants of New Morvena that goblins are responsible.
Thanks to Shane for getting the ball rolling on this, and for everyone’s input on how to shape these goblins into something more than what I had originally envisioned.
I immediately thought of “potlach” cultures when I read this article. That might be just where my head goes, being an anthropologist, but it seems perfectly realistic to have a goblin culture that is organized around feasts and gift giving. This handles in one easy-to-explain dynamic their political structure, their economy, their take on status/prestige, and the central source of conflict within goblin settlements. If you think of the Chef/Chief as the powerful distributor of wealth and sustenance, it really doesn’t read that humorous at all. Dunno.
Hah! Hadn’t thought of them at all from that perspective. I wonder how many other RPG monster archetypes could be better developed/explained through real anthology/sociological templates for social structure. Hmmm… good topic for a blog post!