Jewels in the Forest & Ancient Sagas of Heroes and D&D

THE CIRCLE CURSE

If this is your first Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser, The Circle Curse works as an excellent introduction to the two adventurers (and two wizards that will return in later stories.) It sets the main theme and a bit of the mood that will guide the rest of the stories, sketching the reasons for their sudden departure from the city of Lankhmar. There is probably no more classical motive for a wandering hero than a broken heart, and in this case, this driving passion also humanizes the characters and gives them a more complex personality, something important once they start their less unsavory exploits.

This story negates the traditional direction taken for granted in most fantasy, where the narrative begins in a small physical location, almost a prison for the main protagonist who yearns to discover what lies beyond the literal or metaphorical walls of his homeland. On the other hand, Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser aren't really yearning for adventures as much as they are fleeing from their own demons. But that world beyond Lankhmar and their travels, something that could have been the story for a whole book, are barely described in a few short but evocative paragraphs. The journey doesn't bring them the peace they need, and since they have traveled all around the world and the pain has not yet subsided, the solution seems inevitable: they must return to the hated city of Lankhmar. And this is where the real story begins.

"And in any case Lankhmar seemed no worse than any other place in Nehwon and more interesting than most. So they stayed there for a space, making it once more the headquarters of their adventurers."

THE JEWELS IN THE FOREST

Although the events of the previous story are not mentioned, it is implied this story happened after those, after the two adventurers had settled once again in Lankhmar.

Having pilfered from a Lord an old and cryptic letter that hints at a gigantic and apparently unprotected treasure in a tower hidden deep inside the forest, the two protagonists set off on their next adventure. It's hard to find a more D&D motivation than "huge cache of jewels in an abandoned tower, probably protected by an unknown menace," so it's easy to see why the adventures of Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser were always at the top of all the list of things that inspired D&D.

I'm sure the other contributors will write better analyses of this story (actually, they already have,) so I'll focus on a D&D-related piece of trivia hidden in this short story. Now, I don't know where I first heard about this, I guess it was some Old-School Revival blog years ago, but I haven't managed to find the original source. Still, I'm pretty sure I'm not making this up or, at least, I'm not the only one who has made this up.

There's a scene in this story where Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser are fighting some noble's henchmen (the same one from whom the Gray Mouser had stolen the letter,) and this happens:

"Fafhrd, his back to a great oak, had his broadsword out and was holding off two of Rannarsh's henchmen, who were attacking with their short weapons. It was a tight spot and the Northerner realized it. He knew that ancient sagas told of heroes who could best four or more men at swordplay. He also knew that such sagas were lies, providing the hero's opponents were reasonably competent. 

And Rannarsh's men were veterans."

Used to other fantasy stories, where the hero slashes through hordes of enemies as if the were hay, this is an interesting shift in tone and style. But I want to focus on a specific sentence, the one about the ancient sagas and the four or more men. Because I think that sentence is the source of a D&D element: the name levels.

If any non-grognard is reading this, name levels (or "Titles") was a curiosity from the days of OD&D and Basic D&D. The official title of your class wasn't really "Magic-user, level 5" or something equally bureaucratic and bland, but Enchanter, which was the Title for 5th level magic-users. For example, this is the table for the Thief class, as found in p6 of the Expert Rulebook (1980.) 

Now, I'm sure most people just said "my character is a level X-whatever, " but the Titles were kinda cool, and going from Apprentice to Master Thief probably felt great. Also, people like Titles.

Having explained that, we'll still have to go back even further, to the most distant origin of the RPGs, the Fantasy Supplement that appeared in Chainmail, the miniature wargame that Gygax and Jeff Perren designed. That supplement included many fantastic creatures we now take for granted, and also a lot of spells that would later appear in D&D, like Slow, Haste, Confusion, Fireball, etc. Being a wargame, there were no Player Characters, but there were special units, like Wizards and Heroes (and Superheroes)

HEROES (and Anti-heroes): included in this class are certain well-known knights, leaders of army contingents, and similar men. They have the fighting ability of four figures, the class being dependent on the arms and equipment of the Hero types themselves, who can range from Ligh Foot to Heavy Horse. 

SUPER HEROES: Few and far between, these fellows are one-man armies! (Particularly when armed with magical weaponry.) They act as Hero-types in all cases, except they are about twice as powerful.

Some of you may have already realized what I'm trying to say, but if not, here's the table for the Fighter class as it appeared in the same Expert Rulebook, D&D 1st edition:

And that part about "they fight like four figures" was transferred directly to the old OD&D, since "fighting like a Hero" literally meant "fighting like four Men and having the Hits of four Men."

You can see that the title for level 4 and 8 are Hero and Super Hero, which are a reference to those Chainmail rules: Heroes have "the fighting ability of four figures, " and Super Heroes are "twice as powerful."

Now, reread that part I quoted from The Jewels in the Forest. This sentence to be specific:

"He knew that ancient sagas told of heroes who could best four or more men at swordplay."

"Hero" and "four (or more) men"? Well, isn't that a coincidence? Also, another coincidence, the title for a level 1 fighter is Veteran, as in "And Rannarsh's men were veterans." Translated into D&D-speak: 

"He knew ancient rules that told of level 4 Fighters who could best four or more men at swordplay. He also knew that was horseshit, providing the opponents were reasonably competent and not level 0 mooks. And Rannarsh's men were level 1 Fighters."

Now, I'm not saying this short paragraph was the source of the whole idea of class levels but... it's a fascinating possibility. In any event, it seems clear that at least it did inspire the Titles and power-level (first via Chainmail) of Hero and Superhero.

Also, if anyone ever tells you that "heroic" adventure starts at level 12 or somesuch, or that level 4 characters are "low level," remind them that level 8 was already considered Superhero back then, before the Great Level Inflation.

The Sunken Land

“Sh! Do you care so little for life? Remember, you are Lavas Laerk’s henchman. But I will tell you what you would know.” He sat down on the wet bench beside Fafhrd, looking like a bundle of black rags someone had dropped there. “Lavas Laerk has sworn to raid far Simorgya, and he has put a vow of silence upon himself and his men until they sight the coast. Sh! Sh! I know they say Simorgya is under the waves, or that there never was such a place. But Lavas Laerk swore a great oath before his mother, whom he hates worse than he hates his friends, and he killed a man who thought to question his decision. So it’s Simorgya we seek, if only to steal pearls from the oysters and ravish the fishes.

"The Sunken Land" starts with Fafhrd's joyous shout as he rips a strange ring from the belly of a fish as he cleans it. The discovery lays heavily on the Gray Mouser's mind. Our adventurers are on the sea once again, and the effect of ring and wave has charmed Fafhrd. The ring brings first a storm and then Lavas Laerk's ship, gone a-viking to loot the sunken land of Simorgya. Now impressed into Lavas Laerk's crew, the barbarian chief recognizes Fafhrd's ring. As the lookout cries "Land, ho!", Lavas Laerk declared Fafhrd to be a Simorgyan spy...

This is Fafhrd's tale, as he spends much of it isolated from the Gray Mouser, whether through physical separation or charm-induced navel gazing. The easy banter between the two is not present, filled instead by the barbarian's growing gloom.  The Gray Mouser is not absent, however, as his off-screen adventures save Fafhrd's life, making the pair the sole survivors of what would have otherwise been a total party kill.

Of particular interest is just how much of the story in general takes place off screen. Starting with Fafhrd's discovery of his ring, any part of the story that was not Lavas Laerk's mad rush on the phosphorescent sunken city was relegated to dialogue. The effect is an exercise in indirect horror, for while the gloom is set up by the storm and the trudge through the city's phosphorescent skate murals, it is Lavas Laerk's rash vow and the Hitchcockian discovery of his fate that adds the chills to this  story.  As Sophocles said, those whom the gods would destroy, they first make proud. And Fafhrd eventually recognizes that everything since the discovery of his ring had been "intended by something or someone." And by leaving the terror of that discovery to the theater of the mind, Leiber creates an impact far more chilling than explicitly showing each blow.

It is not hard as all to see the significant debt Pratchett's Discworld owes to Leiber's Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser. In addition to Lankhmar and the Thieves' Guild, Pratchett also borrowed the sunken city, putting a humorous spin on it in line with the changes that John Campbell wanted to make to fantasy with his Unknown magazine. But Simorgya stands vivid in the imagination where Leshp does not because humor defuses tension, robbing Leshp of the dark glamour of its forebear, Simorgya.

The cloaks of Simorgya...

Thieves' House - A Fantasy Heist

Okay, team.  We're going to get through this story without making a single D&D reference.  It's not going to be easy, but if we all pull together, and give it everything we got, we can do this!  Deep breath.  Deeeeep breath.

I

The things you find on a Google Image
Search never cease to amaze...

n the past, I've criticized authors for starting stories post media res.  In Thieves' House, Leiber almost does just that, but not quite.  He sets up the location of a well-guarded treasure, locked in an un-crackable vault and guarded by an un-killable beast.  Then Fafhrd and the Grey Mouser crack the vault, slay the beast, and get betrayed, and it all happens off camera!

The nerve of some authors.

Leiber gets away with it by front loading the tale with a scene of the masterminds behind this plot explaining that this isn't going to be the story of our heroes obtaining the treasure, but trying to keep it.  Knowing that the thief Fissif fully intends to double cross Faf and Grey gives the reader fair warning that the action won't involve picked locks and fantastic beasts, but double-crosses, triple-crosses, and all sorts of paranoia inducing fun.

The opening scroll explaining that the skull of Omphal is cursed also clues the reader into the cluelessness of the men who run the Thieves' Guild.  We semi-omnipotent readers know full well that ignoring the warning of the skull's accursed nature is bound to bite somebody before the tale runs its course.

If there's one potential flaw in this story, it's the seeming coincidence of a dazed and concussed Fafhrd just so happening to blunder into a forgotten secret passage that just so happens to contain the lost gods of the Thieves' Guild just at the moment said gods are about to reclaim the lost skull of Omphal.  On further consideration, that sort of coincidence is no coincidence at all.  Rather, it is the direct result of actions taken by the gods of the thieves who lured Fafhrd into their tomb specifically to use him as an instrument of their vengeance.

Once again, Fafrhd and the Grey Mouser knowingly walk into danger for the sheer thrill of adventure.  That may be a character flaw on the part of the two, but it's a necessary one if there is to be a story here, and if the two don't act contrary to their nature.  We know that Faf and Grey are clever - you can see this in their schemes and ploys, and the way they can predict what their foes are likely to do at any given moment.  Clearly, for Leiber to present them as consistently clever, he has to show that they know the Theives' Guild is a trap, and yet send them into its jaws anyway.  If they were truly smart, they'd have just walked away from the bright door in the dark alley and left the Skull of Omphal to fend for itself.  Leiber solves that conundrum by making them smart enough to recognize the danger, but by giving them a hunger for danger and adventure far stronger than their hunger for safety and security.

They might not be perfect heroes.  They might not be heroes at all.  But at least they are consistently written ,and that is a rarity not often seen in today's fiction.

We did it!  High fives all around!

The Circle Curse

As unmoved by this prodigy as by the thunder-stroke, Fafhrd bellowed above the storm toward the doorway, his voice sounding tiny to himself in his thunder-smitten ears, “Hear me, witch, wizard, nightgaunt, whatever you are! I shall never in my life enter again the foul city which has stolen from me my dearest and only love, the incomparable and irreplaceable Vlana, for whom I shall forever grieve and for whose unspeakable death I shall forever feel guilt. The Thieves’ Guild slew her for her freelance thieving— and we slew the slayers, though it profited us nothing at all.” 

“Likewise I shall never lift foot toward Lankhmar again,” the Gray Mouser took up from beside him in a voice like an angry trumpet, “the loathy metropolis which horribly bereft me of my beloved Ivrian, even as Fafhrd was bereft and for similar reason, and left me loaded with an equal weight of sorrow and shame, which I shall bear forever, even past my perishing.”

Want to make wizards laugh? Tell them your plans.

In this case, Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser are leaving Lankhmar on a green pilgrimage - self-imposed exile, never to return. Their loves from Swords and Deviltry lay buried, along with most of the Theives' Guild that killed them. As they leave the city's gate, a walking hut follows them, taunting the adventurers that they must return to Lankhmar. After years of adventures, and another encounter with a different meddling wizard, Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser have seen and done it all. Bored out of their minds, they return to Lankhmar.

"The Circle Curse" serves as a bridge between "Ill Met in Lankhmar" in Swords and Deviltry and "The Jewels in the Forest." At the end of "Ill Met in Lankhmar," the youths Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser slaughter the Thieves' Guild in revenge for their murdered loves. After the deed is done, they flee the city. "The Circle Curse" picks up as soon as they leave the gates, tying up loose ends. The catalog of adventures and lands serves to explain the air of easy expertise the adventurers show in "The Jewels in the Forest." And the pair's boredom explains why they're back in Lankhmar. Time might not heal all wounds, but it can dull them.

I wouldn't go so far to say that "The Circle Curse" could be skipped; it does fill a continuity gap. But it is another example of the dreaded travelogue in fantasy, a tour through the author's worldbuilding. Fortunately, Leiber works through it in mere pages, where today's authors might require books. Think of it as the boys' boot camp, where youths become men. Like an appetizer, the story's true purpose is to prepare the palate for the course to come.

Jewels in the Forest - The First Variation on a Theme

Circle of Death is a fine chapter, and one necessary to kick off a collection of stories like Swords Against Death, but I’m going to skip it.  It strikes me as a prologue dedicated more to setting the stage for the stories that follow than as a story in its own right.  Lieber’s writing grabs you, and the introductions of Sheelba of the Eyeless Face and Ningauble of the Seven Eyes are impressive, but little more than foreshadowing events spaced far enough out in Fafhrd and the Grey Mouser’s lives for them not to make the connection, but close enough for the reader to do.  Whatever else happens, we know that the fantasy odd-couple are destined to play a role as pawns in the games of those two oracular sorcerers.  This chapter of their lives is no less adventurous than the stories that follow, but a grim and bleak pall must hang over the stories of the adventures of the two as they flee from the city that caused their grief, and would make for a very different sort of tale than those that follow.

Once the two get over their grief, they can get back to the rolling adventures and fantasy buddy-cop style banter that is their trademark.  Speaking of which, Jewels of the Forest…

It’s a Dungeon Crawl

Complete with adventurer’s kit.

“The Mouser carried a mallet and a stout iron pry-bar, in case they had to attack masonry, and made certain that candles, flint, wedges, chisels, and other small tools were in his pouch. Fafhrd borrowed a pick from the peasant’s implements and tucked a coil of thin, strong roper in his belt.  He also took his bow and quiver of arrows.”

Something tells me the thesis of this analysis will wind up as a recurring thread this month.  Jewels in the Forest might be the single most accurate dungeon crawl I’ve read, and I’ve read the novelizations of both Keep on the Borderlands and The Temple of Elemental Evil, and those were novelizations of literal dungeon crawls.  Here, Fritz puts on a clinic for aspiring DMs looking to run dungeon crawls that are a little more thematic than, “In a hole in the ground lived a bunch of orcs.”
By hook or by crook Fafhrd and the Grey Mouser come into possession of a treasure map which they follow to a long abandoned tower.  After a night of role-play with the local peasantry and suitable foreshadowing on their part, the two set out for the nearby buried treasure. 

In this story Fritz answers one question that has plagued D&D groups ever since they stopped reading the game's source material:  Why is there a deadly dungeon right smack in the middle of civilization? It turns out that travel off of well-trod paths is hard.  If you’ve never tried to push a mile through the unspoiled wilderness, you probably don’t realize just how hard it is.  Bear in mind, we’re not talking about walking through the local woods at your state park, these are untouched woods filled with vegetation of all sorts and sizes, all growing in and around and on top of each other.  Pressing through that sort of forest is like climbing a flight of stairs with a heavy load on your back.  Even short hikes are long and tiring. 

Granted, we know that paths lead to the dungeon, because the little girl in the story admits to playing there often.  The point isn’t that you can get to the tower easily, just that it’s not the sort of thing hordes of people would randomly chance across.  Buried inside a ring of old growth forest a few miles across, it might as well be on an island a hundred miles off shore.  Sure, you could get there from here, but why would you?  It’s just an old, abandoned tower that gives you the creeps, and you’ve only got two weeks to get the crops in or your whole family starves to death this winter.

Once Fafhrd and the Grey Mouser get to the tower, it turns out that they obtained their map more by crook than by hook.  A second NPS party has beaten them to the punch!  Before they can enter, they have to fight an enemy of a more mundane sort, and one that has just as much claim to the treasure as they do.  Lieber’s description of Rannarsh as a “cruelly handsome man” serves as a classic example of concise description.  You know everything you need to know about him from those three words.  It’s also a classic case of know when to break the rules.  For most writers, “Show, don’t tell,” is an iron clad rule, but Fritz breaks it with wild abandon.  He doesn’t need to belabor the point by showing Rannarsh acting vain, he has already told us this in those three little words.

Before the fight, and during the foray inside the Tower of Urgaan of Ungarngi, we learn of why no one has stolen the treasure away yet.  The whole tower is a trap designed to spread misery long after the death of its maker.  It’s an elaborate trap, a living tower with a brain of black quicksilver and priceless jewels that shine with the light of unseen stars, and one that has claimed the lives of many an adventurer over the years, both in this tale and those created around kitchen and dining room tables since Gygax blessed us with his creation.

Fritz Leiber himself.
Give that guy black hair and a flatter nose, and
this is exactly how I pictured Arvlan in my head.

Fritz also shows DMs a weird trick that is almost criminally underused at the gaming table* – using the cleric as a trap finder.  I kid; don’t let the healer blunder into trapped rooms, kids!  You need that heal bot healthy in case the thief gets squarshed by a tower shaped earth elemental.  The real purpose of a wandering NPC like Arvlan is two-fold.  On the one hand, Arvlan comes across as a seriously hard dude.  Firm, resolute, commanding, and knowledgeable about the Tower.  Then he gets pasted off screen, thus building tension in the protagonists.  “If that guy is toast, what chance do we have,” is exactly the sort of thing you want your protagonists thinking as they head into the final showdown, be they players at the table, or characters in your own story.  The second aspect to Arvlan’s appearance is that his death provides an important clue as to the threat facing Fafhrd and the Grey Mouser.  If you don’t want the price of obtaining that clue to be the life of a protagonist, just throw a quick extra into the mix and let him die horribly.

As if this story doesn’t already offer enough grist for the gaming mill, Fritz continues the clinic by demonstrating how you can tantalize players with a phenomenal treasure that they can glimpse, but never possess.  The only way to stop the death-trap into which they have willingly set foot is to destroy the priceless treasure! Fafrhd and the Grey Mouser end the story sadder but wiser, and content with the knowledge that they’ve rid the world of a great and aged evil.  At the gaming table, you’ll probably need to throw the players a few bones in the form of a dead brain-gem or two for their trouble, because experience doesn’t pay the drinking and whoring bills.

This subject recently came up in more ephemeral on-line discussions, but it’s worth recording for posterity here.  Those who plan on running RPGs for their friends could buy a dozen pre-packaged adventures and still have a dozen hanging questions about each of them.  For half the cost and twice the fun, they could also buy this one book and read the dozen adventures it contains and steal ideas freely from it.  The end result would be more thorough, more believable, more immersive, and far more personal.  This book was one of the RPG supplements that Gygax used to plan his adventures, and if it was good enough for Gygax, it ought to be good enough for you.

 
* On further consideration, this is a trick as old as Call of Cthulhu. Judges in that game throw doomed NPCs around like Star Trek writers.

The Jewels in the Forest

“Let kings stack their treasure houses ceiling-high, and merchants burst their vaults with hoarded coin, and fools envy them. I have a treasure that outvalues theirs. A diamond as big as a man’s skull. Twelve rubies each as big as the skull of a cat. Seventeen emeralds each as big as the skull of a mole. And certain rods of crystal and bars of orichalcum. Let Overlords swagger jewel-bedecked and queens load themselves with gems, and fools adore them. I have a treasure that will outlast theirs. A treasure house have I builded for it in the far southern forest, where the two hills hump double, like sleeping camels, a day’s ride beyond the village of Soreev.  

“A great treasure house with a high tower, fit for a king’s dwelling— yet no king may dwell there. Immediately below the keystone of the chief dome my treasure lies hid, eternal as the glittering stars. It will outlast me and my name, I, Urgaan of Angarngi. It is my hold on the future. Let fools seek it. They shall win it not. For although my treasure house be empty as air, no deadly creature in rocky lair, no sentinel outside anywhere, no pitfall, poison, trap, or snare, above and below the whole place bare, of demon or devil not a hair, no serpent lethal-fanged yet fair, no skull with mortal eye a-glare, yet have I left a guardian there. Let the wise read this riddle and forbear.”'

-Fritz Leiber, "The Jewels in the Forest"

So is anyone else hearing the rattle of dice and the call to adventure? I don't mean that in the pejorative sense of today; despite Lankhmar's wargame origins, I never have the inkling that Leiber is merely turning gaming sessions into stories. Rather, even in Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser's various moods and frenzies, their enthusiasm for adventure is infectious. It isn't just greed that compels them to search for Urgaan's treasure, as they realize that, nine times out of ten, the treasure won't be at the end of the map. People boast, and someone else might have beaten them to the goal in the centuries prior. but Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser search any way. It'll be fun. Who knows what sights they'll see? And, yes, a diamond as big as a man's skull will buy wine, wenches, and song in Lankhmar. These boys aren't plaster saints.

I will pass on the summary this time.  Leiber meters out information slowly.  We meet his adventurers caught in an ambush well before the Gray Mouser reads Urgaan's challenge. Then we discover the identity of the ambushers, and that, thanks to the Gray Mouser's quick fingers, the ambushers do have a legitimate quarrel with Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser. Rather than front loading the action with these details, Leiber lets the Gray Mouser ponder each - after the ambush is routed, of course. It serves to establish the adventurers' priorities as adrenaline junkies and curiosity seekers, and it would be a shame to mar such a slow burn with the compactness required in a summary. Besides, this is a pulp treasure hunt. We know that Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser will find the treasure, but not yet what twists await their discovery.

Seven foot tall Fafhrd is a barbarian from the snowy North, a fighter and a skald with a curiosity toward civilization, even if he sees the downside as well. He is an idealist, but with a strong tendency towards practicality that keeps him alive. The Gray Mouser is a wizard's apprentice-turned thief, dexterous enough to be a fencer or a stage magician.  He is more cynical than Fahrd, but has a sentimental streak. Both are experienced professionals, knowing when to run or fight, and when discretion is the better part of valor. This experience keeps them alive after a second set of ambushes. However, practicality and sentiment allow them to escape the murderous traps at the end of "The Jewels in the Forest".

Back when my first introduction to D&D was the Baldur's Gate video games, I wondered why the mages used slings. Thank the Gray Mouser for that, as he uses his sling to great effect in the fights here.  Also, Discworld owes much to Lankhmar - Ankh-Morpork, the Thieves' Guild, and the recurring odd pairing of Cohen the Barbarian and Rincewind the Wizzard .

And for today's bit of awesome, here's James Earl Jones reading the first part of "Jewels of the Forest." Contemplate this on the Tree of Woe...

Welcome to Nehwon

This month, we turn to the world of Nehwon, to the city of Lankhmar, and the adventures of Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser. The second volume of their tales, Swords Against Death, collects ten short stories of the barbarian and wizard-thief, including the first five from John Campbell's Unknown magazine. (Fear not, while John Campbell did try to foster a fantasy revolution to match the one he created in science fiction, he felt that Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser fit the tone of the venerable Weird Tales better than Unknown).

The tales of Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser have been called  archetypal adventures for Dungeons & Dragons, and it is no surprise that they are featured in the legendary Appendix N, a listing of fantasies that inspired the game. They also share a similar origin to Dungeons & Dragons, as both Lankhmar and Dungeons & Dragons evolved from wargames.  Fritz Leiber had created the world and the game with the help of his friend Harry Fischer in 1937. A revised version of this game would be published 40 years later by TSR, following in the wake of the original publication of D&D. Gamemakers have returned to the setting regularly since then.

While I recommend leaping into the world of Lankhmar with the pulp introduction to Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser, "The Jewels of the Forest", those who wish to read the origin stories of Fafhrd, the Gray Mouser, and their partnership should read Swords and Deviltry. Check out JimFear138's review of that audiobook posted below.  (For those who would rather read the transcript, here's a link to his blog post.)