All the prep is done, we have our characters ready…so, what do? Well, handily enough, the next chapter is titled “Adventures”. Sounds fun. Maybe we should go on one of those. If we have a bunch strung together, we might even reach a couple chapters later, “Campaigns”.
   The rulebook here groups adventures into three different buckets; “delve”, “wilderness”, and “voyage”, with the last one getting its own chapter because that Odyssey stuff is a pretty different mode. Combat isn’t its own chapter, rather part of adventuring. Threw me for a minute, but makes sense organizationally after some consideration. If you’re like me, you immediately did twig on something big missing, but let us review first that which is, not that which ain’t.
   Delving is your D&D default activity, stumbling around in lightless depths with your only guide the thief’s vibes and a lantern held by a local whose only qualification as henchmen is that he was the lowest bidder. Dungeons, tombs, caves, lairs, sanctuaries, ruins…if it’s musty and abandoned outside of monsters, then you’re going to be doing what ACKS calls delving. The rules are, as expected, comprehensive but also not all that different from B/X. Thieves being the only characters with dark vision natively is an objective gameplay improvement, but there’s honestly not a lot to complain about in native B/X here, so there’s not a lot that changes.
   Wilderness adventuring is a little more expanded, but not immensely. It’s all your usual stuff, like “how to not get lost”, “how to live off the land when lost”, and “how to freeze to death”. I like that mapping is given consideration outside the dungeon too, keep that graph paper never busy while you’re outdoors as well as inside.
   This is where I’ll note that the term “ancillary activity” starts to crop up. Activities are split between “dedicated” (where it’s basically an all-day focused endeavor) and “ancillary” (where’s it just what you’re doing in the in-between times). They’re also classed as normal or “strenuous” (where you need to take regular breaks or else you get winded). Some will doubtless find this too rigorous, almost mechanical, but having everything broken down like this clears up a lot of potential rules arguments, plus these tags interact with proficiencies and spells and timekeeping in a comprehensive manner. It’s not obsessive like GURPS or Pathfinder, but these classifications do tamp down on the sillier adjudication debates.
   Combat section won’t throw anyone familiar with the hobby, either. As is only right and proper, it starts with encounter rolls, surprise rolls, evasion procedures, and reaction rolls, so there’s a good set of procedures to have interesting combat kickoffs by default. Once initiative gets rolled, the rules are, stop me if you’ve heard this one, comprehensive and well-explained. The only complaint I really have for any departures is ACKS’ lawsuit-avoidant replacement for THAC0, AC is ascending but starts at zero, which is then subtracted from the given character’s class-and-level-based attack throw. It’s not all that hard to process once you get used to it, but the difference is confusing for both old-school and new-school groups at first. I do like that the system assumes miniatures and battlemats, with things like facing and frontage actually mattering. It is so much easier to run theater-of-the-mind when there are real rules, rather than the “near/short/far” crap.
   Here’s where I must mention the odd omission. What I noticed missing, and you might have too, are cities as a potential adventuring venue, or at least a venue with special rules. City-crawls are odd and difficult to convey, not to mention less popular with players, but it’s odd that there isn’t anything special noted about urban adventuring. I’d imagine there’s another book for that, but we’re reading this as we go.
   Ship rules and seaboard adventures are where we start to depart far away from the stolid grounds of the Rules Cyclopedia. Do you need to know how a trireme handles crosswinds? We got that. Do you need to know how long a voyage from Rome to Gibraltar takes? We got that. Do you need to know what happens when the captain PC yells “RAMMING SPEED” in a mass battle? You betcher sweet bippy, we got that. Underwater combat and river voyages wrap up the ship chapter neatly and then its time to get into the real deal.

Running a REAL Campaign
   …because as solid and comprehensive as everything has been thus far, it is in Campaigns where ACKS differentiates itself from the rest of the hobby. We got domain and army and property and venture rules, and wooooo boy are these rules great.
   As discussed back in the classes section every single class in the game gets a custom stronghold when they ding level 9, netting them freebie followers and troops. How that stronghold is acquired is left to the Judge and player; some may be built, some may be renovated, some may be conquered, some may be manifested out of magic star-stuff after a yearlong quest. Where ACKS departs from a lot of the other “you get a stronghold” OSR systems is that it fully expects this building to be part and parcel of the GAME at this level, where your Adventurers, via Conquest, become Kings. Yeah boy, we’re into Domains.
   It’s difficult to properly convey just how complete these rules are. I’ve read a lot of RPG core manuals, and, because I’m silly like that, I’ve already read a lot of empire-building splatbooks stapled awkwardly onto said core systems. Many have good ideas for perfectly workable tack-on minigames to add to your game. Not so here. ACKS II makes ruling an empire central to the game, planned from level 1 as the final endgame goal. Rather than go through every single rule (trust me, your edge case is covered), I’ll describe how the level 10+ game seems to be designed.
   “How do I get a domain” is answered with a large number of examples, by the way, so don’t worry too much about that. Mr. Judge is assumed to dangle multiple domain opportunities in front of the players, something got conquered, don’t fret.
   First off, there’s a bit of a “main character” design here. The ruler is probably a fighter or something similar, with the other less-interested players acting as a ruling council. If multiple individuals want different domains that’s fine, but the game is assuming don’t-split-the-party here. All the characters are around the same level, so the domain has multiple strongholds, some (like the thief’s lair) not helping as strongpoints, but all adding infrastructure and interest. This is reasonable, out of my ~50 players in the main campaign, I have only 7-8 especially keen to rule something. We’re going to assume Dave overcame his intellectual deficits and is our well-advised king.
   King Dave, having built his castle within the newly-conquered border realm of Davetopia, now begins to attract not just henchmen, but also soldiers for the army and peasants to work the fields. There’s math to pay for all of this, but that’s handled by the wizard’s player. Zilban the Magnificent, speaking of which, has erected his tower and not only has apprentices, but is also beginning magical research, crafting magic items, and using ritual rules to cast level 7, 8, and 9 spells. Cleric…er, Crusader Alain makes a nice temple nearby, gaining not only henchmen but extra-fanatical troops, too. Finally, Scuz the Shifty is a full level ahead with his own thiefly hideout, embarking on “hijinks” which have real game-mechanical benefits but are also a wonderful method of introducing new quests into the campaign. Everyone is still very capable of entering a high-level dungeon and fighting a dragon, of course, but there’s also a ton of gameplay out and about, too.
   Dave the character is an idiot, but we don’t have to assume Dave’s player is. If he’s interested in getting into the nitty-gritty, he can do things like improve the lives of his people, plot court intrigues, deal with domain morale, and found new settlements. That math, and the gold income, is all there for the taking if he wants. Realms can also be left mostly in the Judge’s hands, being more or less inert nice showy houses for the party. Seems like a waste, though.
   If you noticed an organizational trend back in the adventuring section, then you know what comes next after domain-level campaigns…yep, we have four (!) chapters next for Armies, Maneuvers, Battles, and of course Sieges.
   This stuff right here? This wargame? That’s where the author’s true passion lies. Not only are the army lists comprehensive, realistic, and balanced, but they’re also FUN. Heck yeah I want to get into how Dwarven Crossbowmen and Elven Bowmen and Human Cataphract Cavalry work. Your units and armies can move around the map with a daily or weekly marching rate, there are cost breakdowns, mercenaries, bad guy (beastmen) army stats, specialists, conscription rules…I love this stuff. You might love this stuff too. Or you might not. But as long as at least one or two players at the table (including the Judge) are the kind of wargame nerds who like setting up these things, the battles themselves will appeal to everyone.
   Maneuvers are the preamble, but when we get to the battles all involved will have a blast. Despite the size and scope of army vs. army encounters, ACKS never forgets this is first and foremost a role-playing game. Heroes can have an enormous impact on the battle, charging ahead of the battle line in forays, risking character death in zoomed-in fights. Morale is key to victory in mass battles, meaning a lot of the prep beforehand and during the fight also impact that all-important morale score when arrows start flying. And once the losers break and run, of course you can loot all the bodies for XP.
   Sieges are more in the same vein, making all that obsessive construction and logistics matter once the baddies deliver siege to the poor embattled gates of Davetopia. Pitched battles may eventually result, but you also can also drive surrenders via starvation and disease, not to mention the usual intrigue-and-skullduggery options that player characters generate themselves. Once you take a city, you get XP for it, of course.
   This is all…really fun. It suggests a campaign, and this a game, rather different from the heroic set of buddies battlin’ evil that so much modern D&D assumes. All of these are the rules, but ACKS II ends with appendices and the most essential is probably Appendix A, the setting. There’s a direct setting document of course, but also an implied setting all these rules set up. In the next and final section of our Revised Rulebook review, we’ll look at both sources for setting to see how this game is played when the rubber at last hits the road. 

​An adventure by Redcap Press & Ethan Scott, level 5
Written for D&D 5e 2024
  Whoa, this sucker’s got art. Credited artist for cover and for interior. Heavily formatted with custom fonts, text boxes, aged-effect background paper, special actions and custom events…all for a three-page railroad event that uses a kaiju fight as the background. A very pretty presentation though.
   We all enjoyed Pacific Rim, right? This is like that. Giant kaiju stomps in from the ocean intent on destroying Your Home Metropolis, giant Friendly Guardian Kaiju defends the city, while these two big figures enjoy massive audience-pleasing kaiju combat the PCs ride a complimentary flight of griffons to a conveniently embedded temple on the back of Bad Kaiju’s head where they poke it with a magic trident. The trident was removed by sahuagin cultists, natch, but in a handy bit of fortuitous propinquity the lead sahuagin is hanging out right there with the trident still in hand. So standard little “water temple lair” encounter set, but with a big noisy background.
   Yeah, I’ll be generous with what I liked and call the background good. Every round there’s a random roll to see what’s happening in the kaiju fight and if it affects the environment where the PCs are fighting their little encounter gauntlet. I like the idea of griffons taking the party to the Handy Dandy Monster Shutoff Point. Art and format is okay.
   All that being said, what can be improved first is probably stop writing these kinds of adventures for level 5. I like giant monsters. You know what’s cool? Fighting them. This is the thousandth Shadow of the Colossus adventure because D&D adventure writers are terrified to write anything for level 15+, where the demigods do demigod things. All the rest of the problems here stem from this failure of courage (or imagination)…its rinky-dink temple map scale, its railroad amusement park ride with the griffons’ “even if there’s a problem it’s okay” setup, its convenient and silly “McGuffin held right next to McGuffin”…all of this is because you had a scenario that called for a high-level party and yet you had to nerf it. All the problems stem from this.
   This means best use case, sadly, is limited only to “run it as it is”. There’s nothing here allowing for expansion because all the major cinematic actors are just that, non-interactable cutscene window-dressing. I guess the petrifying trident is usable? But even that is nerfed for its level.
   Final Rating? */***** with a sigh for the wasted talent. Redcap Press, your presentation is undeniably excellent; now, please go back to the drawing board and give us an adventure worth actually presenting. 

​   Next in our series, let's look at the ACKS II equipment...
   One oft-repeated canard of the OSR is that “the answer is not on your character sheet”. Like most such statements, there was originally a good point to it…when overcoming a challenge, some of the best game sessions are when solutions spring forth from the febrile imaginations of the players rather than mechanical point-and-click puzzles where we look for McGuffin-shaped pegs to ram into McGuffin-sized holes. That being said, the most creative thinking I ever see often does start with a player looking down at his sheet, considering how to put a rope, a mirror, or an illusion spell to use in an unexpected manner. D&D is not an escape room [citation needed], it is a game. The way players interact with a game is with its rules, using…equipment and spells. Typically written on some sort of character sheet. So a proper full game does, in fact, need a full range of gear and spells.
   And great news, ACKS II has both of those in droves.
 The Right Stuff
   Equipment in ACKS can be purchased at markets, which are usually associated with settlements but not always, classed by type from poor rural Class VI’s to the Imperial City’s Class I, where nearly everything can be found. Hirelings, mundane adventuring gear, weapons, armor, vehicles, everything...it’s all variably available based on the market class. The Venturer core class interacts with this bit of mechanical cleverness, too. This is something I remember from Pathfinder too but it’s explained better and implemented with more rigor than in the 3.P paradigm. 

​   As with previous game reviews, I won’t go into the long lists of equipment in detail, I’ll just note a few notable oddities, omissions (yeah right), or additions:
-Arena armor has the “revealing” tag, aiding seduction rolls if the character is 11+ in STR, DEX, CON, and CHA. That’s funny. No this doesn’t apply to being naked. Yes that silliness is lampshaded.
-Plate armor is CHEAP at 60gp compared to normal, it’s also scarce meaning only 50% as likely to be available in a given market outside of dwarf towns.
-NEED MORE POLEARMS, GARY GYGAX SNEERS AT YOUR PALTRY HANDFUL.
-Structures are completely priced out, including traps. Yes, you can rigorously value a dungeon.
-War machines are a whole page, be still my beating heart.
-There’s a set of tables for stuff gone wrong with scavenged equipment if your little loot-goblins are taking too much mundane crap.
-Hireling morale has a LOT of potential bonuses and maluses. Great.
-Spellcraft services, yes, indeed do interact with markets too. Your Venturer is a huge quality-of-life boost in ACKS.
   Since ACKS is “that domain game”, there’s also a great section on construction projects with costs, schedules, and benefits for all kinds of projects. All classes make a special building for 15,000gp at level 9, and you can bet your sweet bippy that this game isn’t going to handwave Dave’s castle construction as a simple “he cuts a check”. This is excellent for generating quests and more gameplay at those higher levels of play.
Check Your Spelling
   Of course, as we all know, the real main characters in any RPG are the spellcasters, and those spellcasters rely on spells. Casting in ACKS is universally Vancian off of limited repertoires, with divine casters (besides the witch and craftpriest) rocking the whole lists of their given deity, while arcane casters have the usual spellbook setup. Spells have type tags (e.g. healing, protection, transmogrification, etc) that interact with other rules and tags. This is of course rank heresy to the AD&D fan, trained as he is in the Gygaxian Hermeneutic of his preference, but it’s good for comprehensive design and really, really helps when you’re expanding the system, via homebrew, module, or splatbook. All terms, defined. Structure and levels, rationalized. Thus are the spells of ACKS.
   As an aside, keen-eyed observers might have noticed that all the human classes cap out at level 14. Since we’re following the regular progression of “new tier of spells every odd level” one would expect that limits our spells to level 7. In fact, it’s only level 6 that gets normally accessed; there are level 7, 8, and 9 spells in ACKS but those are done through ritual; over time and with more effort than the usual “memorize and cast” repertoire spells.
   Again, there are a ton of spells, so let me just note some standouts:
-The “Call of the [animal]” spells are fun, ten-minute-long summoning spells that let you go all Elisha on them kids, or call in horses if you’re going to reenact Krull. Fun.
-Counterspell is early, level 1 for arcane and divine casters both, and it’s what we usually call “dispel magic”, just on a single target. Interesting implications for buffs and debuffs, while it does not do what “counterspell” does in more modern systems (directly stopping an active cast).
-A lot of names are modified to hide from WotC legal after the OGL imbroglio. “Cure Light Wounds” is thus “Cure Light Injury”, etc.
-Light is gone in favor of Illumination, which is not something that can get cast on eyeballs. Sad, but makes sense.
-Level Water is a big deal for a lot of the adventures I read, it’s a Moses Spell that also enables interesting dungeon shenanigans.
-Sleep is now Slumber and 1HD targets can’t make saves against it, good. Still useless after 5HD.
-Spider Climb is only level 1, that’s impressive.
-Wall of Smoke is a nice and shapable version of Obscuring Mist, that’s a very good level 1 battlefield control spell.
-Command is now Word of Command with a pretty long set of exemplary words, very strong version of the spell here that makes clerics pretty nasty single-target save-or-suck casters.
   Plenty of other very solid spells here, including all your classics. BECMI spellcasting was famously kind of overpowered, and ACKS puts the breaks on a lot of the most broken spells, but don’t get it wrong…spellcasters are still the kings of battle. Less utility stuff than some lists, but plenty of heals/removes/dispels/divination for the out-of-combat side too.
   Going ahead a little to spellcasting in combat, casters must declare what spells they plan to cast before initiative gets rolled, giving a simple chance for interruption to whichever side wins the initiative. That’s about it for concentration and interruption, we’re not making this particularly complex.
   So, Dave and Dave’s Friends are all built after the first couple hundred pages. What do they do next? Well, that’s for next time when we finally get to Adventures and Campaigns…

   Hey look, it’s urban fantasy that I actually enjoyed. Notable, so I suppose I should review it.
   Upon the mighty river of books known as Amazon, innumerable tributaries great and small feed its vast flow to the sea. We call them “genres”, and those are how poor befuddled customers actually find their preferred types of books within the vast churn. Fiction-side, the main feeders have names like “Romance”, “Romantasy”, “YA”, and “LitRPG”, where demand is so vast and so indiscriminate that even the huge organic supply will never meet it; those are genres where AI will be used most heavily to pump out banal tripe by the bucket to satiate the hungry. On the other hand, there are tiny subgenres so specific that only a few dozen books are ever written to compete for two diehard readers and mom’s bridge club, things like “Dieselpunk” and “Historical Fiction” and “Epic Fantasy”. In between those extremes we have things like “cozy fantasy”, “shifter fiction”, “Mil SF”, and, of course, urban fantasy.
   Genre labels are sloppy things, of course. Urban fantasy doesn’t really mean fantasy that takes place in a city; one of the giants of the genre (non-smut edition) is Larry Correia’s Monster Hunter International, which is all about fighting monsters in every possible terrain, with the eponymous company based out of rural Alabama. The true 800lb gorilla of the genre, Jim Butcher’s Dresden Files, do take place in a city, Chicago, but that’s because the series began in a noir detective frame, so of course it required the Windy City as its base. Urban fantasy mostly just means “it’s the present day but magic and monsters are real”. This has several advantages in terms of giving the reader immediate points of reference, with several disadvantages summed up in the classic question “would someone with a 12-gauge, a smartphone, and a Honda Accord be able to overcome this threat?” It used to also have a problem with the late-20th-century belief that everything supernatural had always been driven away forever by the light of science, but here in AD 2025 that view seems almost quaint. Everyone knows magic and monsters are real, we just want them to be understandable and defeatable.
   In Sam Robb’s Sigils, we are in the midsized urban milieu of Pittsburg, where magic is unleashed in the young protagonist’s life by the classic “oopsie, opened up a portal to the Fairy Realm”. Pretty soon we’re learning the rules of the supernatural, being hunted by a nightmare creature, and getting inducted into secret conspiracies. All well done, but what surprised me was how much I enjoyed the story of 18-year-old James’s “real world” life.
   It’s…really sweet. James is a senior in high school, lonely and shy, who wants to get into art school. He’s talented but lacks the funds to get into any art program worth a darn; realistic readers like myself will recognize the goal of “get into art school” isn’t typically a path that leads to happy life outcomes even if magic scholarship dollars do materialize, but it is to the writer’s credit that I cared about his thwarted dreams even though they’re not practical in the real world. This is fantasy, after all.
   Young adult, or “YA” is usually about a young female protagonist optimized for reader self-insert, heavy romantic focus, and more often than not, simply smut. That’s a pity because honestly Sigils is what Young Adult should mean. It’s a story about a young, well, adult, sympathetic to his concerns, closely invested in his story but not assuming we’re meant to be inserting ourselves into his head. Rather, the effect for this particular reader over two decades older than him is one of memory. I remember what it was like to be a high school senior, although my own experiences were a million years different from his. The passions, the sorrows, the intense seriousness and goodness of a young man who means well but lacks focus…we all knew this guy.
   The young protagonist has a good relationship with his mother, will wonders never cease. His teachers are, if not particularly helpful, at least professional and non-hostile. He encounters librarians, coffee baristas, art agents, and even Marine Corps recruiters who act like humans, warm and real. There’s a romantic subplot that might have some notes of manic pixie dream girl, but considering the girl is a pixie from a dream realm (maybe), well, that makes sense. This too is realistic to the experience of a certain type of chaste and goodly young man who falls hard for a girl. All of this wholesomeness can work because this is a fantasy story in the classic sense, with a genuine dragon to slay. There are Dresden Files hints here and there, but you have a white knight here, not a grey noir hero. His chief sin is that he is a tagger, which, while illegal, probably ranks somewhere below jaywalking in the moral universe of crime.
   I won’t spoil the book, but there is a satisfying confrontation with evil at the end. I mentioned it with other reviews of this publisher’s books, but the black-and-white art inside at chapter breaks really does add a lot to the overall experience, not nearly at graphic novel levels of illustration but about at the same density of the Hardy Boys books back in the day. Not only did I enjoy the novel, but it’s squeaky-clean with regard to language and sexual content; our 13-year-old and (notably, precocious) 11-year-old are also permitted to read it. (Parental note: Some definite intensity with monsters, your milage may vary) Like all the best fantasy, its appeal is ageless. Worth checking out, for anyone who enjoys fantasy in general.
   Found here, well worth your time. I really should look into setting up affiliate links one of these days...

An adventure by Andrew Wight, level 2
Written for DCC
  Let me begin by registering my personal dislike of the cover “art” here. As I always say when I come upon charming, skillful art in these, I am not an art critic, so nobody gets points for good illustrations. Similarly, I won’t dock any stars for this cover. I just find it unsightly is all.
   If that doesn’t matter, then, what does? Well, four pages here describe a temple with eleven rooms, which is a decent density in general. Only one page is devoted to actual keys, with the rest devoted to backstory, hook, adventure conclusion, and a very confusing schedule delivered via prose. Now, sometimes adventures go a little too far with their bullet points and tables, but when there’s a schedule? One that’s so important it serves as the entire wandering monster/interactability for the whole dungeon? Yeah, help a brother out with a schedule table. Please.
   The reason this schedule matters is that the local cult’s acolytes are obsessive about following a careful ritualistic schedule that accounts for every single hour, even following it after death. Unless the party does something adventure-y like murder one of them, loots, or otherwise be normal, these acolytes wander around completely ignoring even invaders, that’s a nice thought. Oh, and what does this cult want? Why to turn a 30ft-high chained purple giant made out of mist into a god to cloak the whole of the world in dense eternal mist, of course. If mist-guy is freed, he goes on a rampage of course. The hook is that the cult kidnapped a couple villagers to, uh, cook for them. Not a euphemism, they’re just cooking staff. Whatever, it gives us a quest from the locals and that’s all the excuse we need.
   So what I liked here were the peripherals. I love a good flavorful treasure table, and this one has one of those. Generally treasure is pretty decent, all the skeletal cultists have flavorful items on their persons. I’m particularly fond of the classic bit of shenanigans/boon-for-bane with the mist-monster-guy’s chains being anchored by big ol’ diamonds. Want to get the biggest pieces of loot in this entire dungeon? Well, that’s a big flashing warning sign that you’re about to get a rampaging monster if you mess with it. Great encounter design. The idea that the cultists are so punctual that they keep their rigorous schedule even in death is neat. There’s also a nice little wrinkle where if your PCs destroy the temple the Friendly Local Village will pay out the maximized reward but that represents all their life savings, so they become resentful and dour…good long-term development.
   Normally that much positive means there’s less of what can be improved but unfortunately that’s not the case here. There’s…a lot wrong with the presentation. As mentioned above, improvement #1 would be giving better schedule information, but there’s also a lot of wasted space in awkwardly-conveyed personality notes for cultists that won’t be interacted with by most parties beyond “insert sword here”. The map is also a little…wonky.  First of all, we’re missing two key doors…notably, the entryway door and the door to the final boss room. That means I can’t evaluate the flow. There’s a nice secret room finable by good mapping, but beyond that there’s not a lot of interest in the exploration of the building. As always, consider a y-axis.
   So the best use case here is tricky to determine. There’s a lot I like, but also a lot of challenge to using it, particularly with the gaps in the mapping. Pull out the mist thrall and his chains, plus the treasure, and you’ll have value in a more comprehensible adventures. Effort to figure out the document can make this a fun adventure on the whole, I just don’t know if I can tell you that the juice is worth the squeeze.
   Final Rating? **/***** and a few tut-tuts, this could have been up to three stars with a playtest, which would have done wonders for the information gaps.

   Once more into the breach, my friends. We’re reviewing ACKS II piece-by-piece, with the first part of this series a general overview of the system’s scope and scale. Looking practically, of course, our first interaction with the system is typically via generating characters. Before we even cover that, though, we need to tip down all our green visors and look at the core math. So, here we go…
​Green Visor Analysis
   ACKS II, like most fantasy systems in this space, is built primarily around the d20. Terminology is very sensitively worked over to avoid the litigious grasp of Hasbro, so rolls are “throws” most of the time, fumbles are botches, etc, but if you’re familiar with B/X (lineage via Rules Cyclopedia) then you’ll mostly know the core assumptions. If you don’t…well, welcome stranger, I have no idea how you got here but I’m glad you bumbled aboard.
   The rulebook doesn’t assume the reader knows what’s up, explaining not just how to roll, but giving the reasons for rolling different die sizes. When skill and luck have a broad range of outcomes, you throw a d20. When its less of a big luck swing, use a d6. When there’s a bell curve of possible outcomes, use 2d6, etc. Once again this book is rigorous, but all the reasons are given in clean, clear language, with helpful examples and in engaging prose. I really don’t think the “this thing as all numbers” crowd is being fair at all, because this solid darned manual writing.
   As a note on encumbrance, weights are given in “stone”. This mildly bugs me because that’s a proper old English weight near fourteen pounds but here in ACKS-land we assume “ten pounds ish”. There aren’t a lot of places where we’re imprecise like this with numbers, but just note that these do exist and they’re always in service of the verisimilitude of this Fantasy Dominate Rome world. Coins, because this is realistic and not Greyhawkian, weigh about 1/100th a pound, not 1/10th.
   Once we get to characters, you see the kinds of modifiers we’re expecting. Attributes (all standard) provide -3 to +3 modifiers, with only 3 or 18 maxing those out. Standard method of generation is template/array style, so most characters won’t be exceptional or utter dogs. I do like how attribute bonuses are added to % checks at a times-four, so a 16-STR fighter (+2 bonus) is bending bars at a +8. High Key Attributes giving mild XP bonuses to appropriate classes is present, but not at an absurd level. Proficiencies add a little bit of oomph, but nothing like D&D 3 or even D&D 5. It's B/X, but standardized.
   Combat statistics are slightly wonky for those familiar with old-school or new school versions of D&D; armor is ascending but starts at 0, which means different arithmetic for basically normal B/X attack progression results. By default, hit points are “class hit die OR 4, take whichever is higher” at first, then roll all hit die later, which means ACKSmen don’t typically topple over at the first sneeze. In addition to the fairly standard weapon proficiencies, characters also have style proficiencies which enable a given type of fighting without penalty. So if you want to sword-and-board, you need the Weapon and Shield proficiency in addition to proficiencies in said sword and said board. Little niche carve-out there. The rest is normal B/X for attack and damage progression, with the exception of cleave. Yes, your fighter types can keep hitting the next target if their first blow kills their current. This is cool.
   That’s mostly it. There are a lot of tables in the latter portion of this book, but they’re not core to the player experience. For most of the gametime, you’re in a B/X-like math schema with just a little bit of power creep less from any fundamental shift in the engine than just a range of options and setup rules that are player-favored, like the hit point minimums and the added proficiencies. System mastery will boost the performance of a character somewhat but a fighter with 10’s across the board, fighting with a sword and shield, will manage to contribute fine. Not that there aren’t a lot more options…

​Building Your Toon
   Okay, as is standard for these reviews, I’m going to roll up a guy to test things out, but first we can look at the general set-up for character creation. I’m interested in the way the PC chapters get broken out: Characters -> Classes -> Proficiencies -> Equipment -> Spell. Characters are first established as a mix of attributes, homeland, age, weight, etc before you hop into classes. Our classes are manifold, as is to be expected when any D&D edition accumulates cruft, but we do the B/X thing with race-as-class but also gives multiple classes for dwarves and elves. Level cap is 14 normally. Our baseline human classes each pair with a single attribute, which is neat, and thus slightly awkwardly adds two to the D&D standard four-man-band. We have:
-Fighters (STR): Standard issue fighting-man. All arms, all armor, best hit die, best attack, you know his deal.
-Explorer (CON): Kind of a ranger. All arms but medium to lighter armor, d6 hit die, can “ambush” for a mild extra damage die, otherwise pretty Aragony.
-Thief (DEX): Less crap than most thieves, with okay arms, light armor, d4 hit die, backstab, but a lot better skill success than a lot of others. CHEAP leveling XP.
-Mage (INT): It’s your magic-user, you know what that means. Wizard as a standard wizard, including the massive XP cost to level up.
-Crusader (WIS): Cleric but we’re scared of WotC lawyers. I actually like the name better, it makes it more obviously martial.
-Venturer (CHA): This is the unique one to ACKS, and I like it. Traveling merchant with meh arms/armor and average hit die, but TONS of special trading and business-owning abilities. Could be a party face in a dungeon crawl but it ties in to the domain side early and often. Awesome.
Demi-Human classes are some nice varieties:
-Dwarven Craftpriest is a Cleric Dwarf, limited to level 10 and with a spellbook. Neat.
-Dwarven Vaultguard is a Fighter Dwarf, limited just to level 13 but otherwise just good and solid.
-Elven Nightblade is a MU/Thief Elf, maybe more assassin, limited to level 10.
-Eleven Spellsword is a MU/Fighter Elf, also limited to level 10  
   Technically there are a couple human versions too with specific races’ classes, but I’d add them to the “campaign class” bucket. These are the weirdo hybrids that players always want, with added extra specializations to make other variants. Those are…(deep breath):
-Assassin: Like a thief that specializes in the murder-stab parts of the package.
-Barbarian: Like a fighter/explorer, you know the type.
-Bard: Standard-issue annoying jerk, not a full caster but has inspiration and can use magic wands.
-Bladedancer: Female-exclusive cleric who likes swords and hates wearing clothes.
-Paladin: You know the paladin. He’s a normal paladin, just peeved by the cleric’s “crusader” name.
-Priestess: Female-exclusive cleric who trades the fighty bits for slightly better spellcasting.
-Shaman: Basically, the druid, a cleric with an animal pet who can turn into that animal.
-Warlock: Mage who likes looking gross and evil and who your party will absolutely hate.
-Witch: Female-exclusive mage with a more earthy twist to her casting.
-Nobiran Wonderworker: MU/Cleric mix who can cast from both, limited to level 10.
-Zaharan Runeguard: Evil magic-fighter who gets bonuses if he turns undead.
   All the campaign classes are fine, probably slightly subpar vs. the Big Six but players love that crap and they do a pretty solid job of filling out archetypes often requested. These baseline classes all get further modded by random packages which grant free proficiencies and different starting gear packages.
   Oh, right, I should mention proficiencies: They’re feats. Like, D&D 3E feats, but if they were all created by a designer who was actually numerate and understood game balance. Obviously there are still trap choices, but those traps are much less punishing than the 3.P paradigm, and the proficiencies aren’t quite as “must plan out the tree” to get good stuff, either. I like them, but I like Pathfinder stuff too, so take that as you will.

Meet Dave (again)
   Okay, I’ve now spent far, far more time and brain cells on character options than any player even will in the history of all of mankind, so let’s conclude today by rolling up a guy. I’m thrilled to see if we get a zero or a hero. Let’s go line-by-line per the rulebook:
   Attributes. It’s 5d6 drop lowest 2, 2x 4d6 drop lowest, then 3d6, pre-picked. I’m going to skew martial here, so Dave’s got:
STR: 5d6 -> [1,4,6,2,3] -> 13, meh
CON: 4d6 -> [4, 1, 2, 6] -> 12
DEX:  4d6 -> [5, 4, 1, 2] -> 11, heh
INT: 3d6 -> [2, 2, 1] -> 5 LOL
WIS: 3d6 -> [5, 4, 3] -> 12
CHA: 3d6 -> [3, 5, 4] -> 12
   Okay, Dave’s pretty dang dumb (-2 mod), but he’s otherwise pretty average. Strength of 13 is just enough for a +5% XP bonus on a Strength-primary-attribute class, which means…Fighter. Hah. Okay, sure thing buddy. Dave the Fighter. That means I’ll roll hit points:
d8 -> 6, great. But no CON bonus.
   Starting age doesn’t make much difference, but magic aging is still a thing and there’s at hint that some campaigns will be doing the whole “decades pass” thing, so for Dave that’s:
17+1d6 -> [1] -> 18. Nice. Dave the Dimwit is also VERY wet behind the ears.
   Dave’s assumed to be 15 stone by default, and he’s too dumb to be anything but Lawful, so let’s go to class and see what we get next. On to templates:
3d6 -> [4, 6, 4] -> 14, so that’s a Gladiator.
   Being a gladiator nets us Weapon Focus (swords and daggers) and Seduction, plus 2 swords, heavy arena armor, a plumed and visored helmet, tunic and pants, sandals, small sack, amphora of oil (for polishing body), 1 week’s iron rations, and 38gp in arena winnings.
   Oh. Dave is a himbo. That gives me so much to work with. Despite the terrible INT and only one score above 12, this is still somehow a viable PC with a bright future ahead of him losing his last three neurons at the front of the party. I can dig this.
   Of course, there’s still equipment to look at and spells to select if we’re a magician, so that’s what we’ll focus on next time. Assuming Dave can find his way out of the arena…

As mentioned, last week the Mercs and Mayhem anthology dropped with our short story In the Company of Shepherds included. We’re proud of our own story, of course, but I thoroughly enjoyed the rest, too. Here’s a quick set of reviews…

Muck by Ken Lizzi (Military Fantasy)- Our opening story is about a squad of low-lifes sneaking around inside a fortified town trying to let in the rest of their mercenary company, ending with a tense infiltration via sewer grate. I liked the setting’s magic rules, where wizards are basically high-powered WMDs that hire mercs for proxy wars rather than blow up everything. Definitely D&D-able. ****

Angles of Indenture by Spearman Burke (Military Sci-fi)- Hyper-corporate future where indentured hilariously mercenary mercs fight. They’re all in hock up to their eyebrows so everything up to and including band-aids are calculated in battles. Nice bit of backstabbery in the end. Definitely RPG-able, but even moreso I think this would make for a really classic looter-shooter. *****

Dogs of Salt and Coin by Kabilova Diyora (Matchlock Sword and Sorcery) – Somewhat dreamlike story, high on style, about a mercenary company entering into a salt-crusted valley filled with revenants and getting themselves well and truly cursed. Every word of language here is handcrafted to be maximally euphonious, makes for one heck of a read. Definitely D&D-able. *****

Over the Hills and Far Away by Malory (Near-Future Thriller) – First-person story told from the perspective of an old mercenary, focused on his mission to deliver an orphaned little girl (carrying a technological secret) through an urban zoo, chased by rivals. Simple but incredibly well-written and very tightly paced. Definitely a solid modern RPG scenario. *****

Power Play by T. A. Leederman (Military Sci-fi) – This is one of your bog-standard powered-armor-mercenaries-hired-by-treacherous-corporation-get-betrayed-and-get-their-revenge stories, notable for including a geriatric granny-medic and a lot of worldbuilding hints. Probably slightly over-charactered, but the throughline of grandma is good. Definitely Traveller-albe.  ****

For Theirs is the World by Jason M. Waltz (Military Alt History) -A small A-Team band led by one Captain Smiler faces off against another mercenary band led by a nutjob. At first I was going to slap this one with another Military Fantasy tag but there’s no magic here, just 1600’s tech and shenanigans. Really enjoyed the distinctive personalities of each member of the A-Team on this one. Definitely D&D-able. *****

In the Company of Shepherds by B. K. Gibson (Military Fantasy) – Our own story, about a mercenary company of our vaguely Grecian Three Seas setting fighting a polis’ brave defenders, told from the perspective of Philon the slave-scribe. So far everyone who’s read it has said they’d like to see more in the world and with the magic, so…great news there! Shepherd, the first novel in the trilogy set here, will be out next year. You know it’s D&D-able.

Mind and Machine by Nathan Slemp (Military Sci-fi) – Another mech merc story, this time with the mechs and the mercs working as combat teams in a Bolo-esque partnership. Stylish, in and out at a tight pace, with a bit of unsettling classic sci-fi horror tinging the middle. Solid RPG scenario. ****

The Tomb of Mammon by Dean Stone (Paranormal Thriller) – My personal favorite of the other stories, it’s present-day with magic, deals with exploring a tomb, plenty of clever overcoming…whole thing just clicks and I really hope Mr. Stone writes more here. Not only is it D&D-able, I immediately did put a Tomb of Mammon in my ongoing campaign. *****

With Friends Like These by Nick Nethery (Military Sci-fi) – Alien bug hunt on a distant planet, taking place during a truce to let both sides’ teams work together. Action solid, bug is horrible, nice environmental set dressing, Enemy Mine friendship between the leaders is fun, pacing good. Definitely D&D-able. *****

March or Mutate by Ross Hathaway (Douglas Adams’ Fever Dream) – Like a put-upon infantryman’s version of Douglas Adams, slightly zanier. This one’s silly but it made me laugh multiple times so I was happy with it. The manic energy would wear at novel length but it’s a howler of a short story. Do not under any circumstances use this for gaming. *****

Even excluding our own, that nets 4.7 stars, with every single story entertaining, no stinkers. Really enjoyed the read here on this one. ​As a final note, I love how Rac Press illustrates every short story, does a lot for setting the tone on each piece.

An island hexcrawl by Lord Gwydion, levels 3-6
Written for BECMI
  Well by golly Miss Molly, we have us a proper product with real levels and an actual system target. Appendix N Jam looks to have produced some slightly-better-than-average adventures, I dig it. I also love the public domain aurora borealis painting for the cover. Hrm, you think the guy running Coldlight Press likes Arctic lights? Anyway, we have a nice four-page little ‘zine-scale single-column hexcrawl. Everything looks nice and simple, with clean tables, a clear map (tiny 1.5mi hex scale), and no extra muss or fuss. Sometimes you just need to convey the ideas, dudes.
   Those ideas aren’t going to surprise you despite the “A shocking twist…” bit of copy on the cover. Your players find a centuries-old treasure map that leads to the titular Thorn Isles, a nice misty subarctic locale haunted by the titular Mistborn, undead ghostly mist-people who reenact pagan sacrifices every moonlit night. There’s one heck of an awesome magical artifact available in the Staff of the Sun as our reward. Added complications are a pirate crew encountered en media res “where ever the group lands” and the ghosts wanting to sacrifice PCs on a handy local Wicker Man or at the Standing Stones.
   Off to what I liked, we have some very cool flavor on this chilly bleak island. There’s a neat thing with the Mistborn; they are standard incorporeal undead, only harmed by magic, normally, but they also have a custom ability called “Misty Touch” which is a save vs. paralysis or become a fellow mist-ghost for 1d6 hours. That’s pretty nifty and will give us some flexibility in how the whole environment gets interacted with. Encounters are well-mixed, the end artifact was cool, and it all feels about right for suggested levels. There’s a 24-hour schedule of moonrises and mist that should help the suffering DM track time, that’s great.  Easy to run, simple and fun.
   There’s not a lot obvious at first in what can be improved. Beyond, of course, the vile sin committed in the previously mentioned Encounter 1. A compounded pair of sins, actually, we have a Quantum Ogre-style encounter where the pirates are met wherever the PCs first land, and then there’s also a dynamic situation that was frozen in amber, said pirates are chasing a random woman from…somewhere…and so of course there’s a “choice” to help the pirates (?) or rescue the woman. There’s also some kind of situation where you’re supposed to be able to challenge the pirate captain for control of the crew but I guess that’s something we just mind-read. Terrible, terrible encounter, and so very easy to fix with just having the pirate ship or a wrecked pirate crew wandering around. You have a map, use it brother. It’s a real pity that’s such a woofer because the rest is all solid.
   Okay, just breathe. Your best use case is to either fix the pirate railroad or jettison it completely and then otherwise just enjoy playing a fun little adventure. “Treasure map reward” is pretty common and this thing is a very nice reward even beyond the suggested levels. Individual elements to steal include the Mistborn and the map. Good deal.
   Final Rating? ***/***** for a useful, interesting, and very flavorful little adventure booklet ideal for treasure map use in your ongoing game or a one-shot. Just ignore the first encounter and you’re good as gold.

​   Pray for me, my friends, while I embark upon this great voyage. I have done deep dive system reviews before, from a popular little indie darling to a freebie labour of AI-enhanced love. Both systems were about as light as you can get while still being legitimate real systems. Say what you will, they can be read in a single sitting, characters can be rolled up, and then all involved can enjoy months of fantastic adventures. All well and good. But within this hobby, there are some systems for hairy-chested men, who long to leave milk behind for meat. Those rules-heavy systems all have their specialties, designed for games lasting years with those Brobdingnagian, labyrinthine, rulesets. Each crunchy advanced game has its goals:
-Pathfinder for the power-fantasy character building to eventually achieve Super-Saiyan.
-GURPS for the obsessive desire to emulate every single genre in history to down to every boring bit of set dressing.
-Runequest for an in-depth exploration of an early-iron-age setting where failure and frustration is all part of the process.
-AD&D for, well, the perfect “D&D” campaign experience without flaws or warts, nevertheless cloaked by its arcane language to the perfect level of mystery, making understanding the system a matter of spiritual ability as much as intellectual capability.
   This one, though, might be the single most ambitious mega-system ever created. ACKS II, the legend, the myth, a monument to simulationism. The promise is that ACKS (I’m going to drop the II for the rest of this review) will enable a Referee to run A Whole Entire World, from tax policy to orc demographics to exactly how many silver pieces are in any given baron’s coffers on April 15th. If one were to listen to people online, one would think that absent massive and continuous dosing of Tylenol from an extremely early age no mere mortal could hope to comprehend the system’s vast complexities. “Oh, it’s amazing, but I’m just not smart enough to run ACKS” is a frequent refrain. Such is its reputation.
   Count me a skeptic there. Let me discuss my own (modest) bona fides. My first interaction with ACKS was not in fact with ACKS, but with its associated mass-battle system, Domains at War. My campaign has always been geared towards domains and players accumulating armies and fleets, so of course I’m a prime customer there. Rules work great. Then, when I decided to slice off a high-level section of megadungeon for No Artpunk III, I decided to adapt it into ACKS since there were mass armies in the place, and ran the playtest with a high-level ACKS (1st edition) party. We had fun, but I wouldn’t call it a perfect test of the system. Still, at darn near max level, the thing ran pretty nice as a dungeon-crawler.
   For all that, I think there is something to the complaints about the system’s scale. This thing is big. And thorough. That’s undeniably bringing a lot of depth to the gameplay, but to reiterate an old rubric I stole from The Angry GM: Complexity is the coin you pay for Depth. More depth is more or less always better, but if it comes at a complexity cost that is too high, then it’s not worth it for the slightly better game depth. Everyone at the table has their cognitive load limit, and when a player hits that limit, he’s done, he’s checked out. While ACKS has a undeserved reputation for complexity at the table, where it runs as smooth as butter, there is a very large complexity load away from the table, with not only the subsystems all over the place but also with the sheer comprehensiveness of the rules as a whole bogging down away-from-table adjudications.
   My initial impression is that every single bit of complexity here is smart, well-thought-out, and adds to the depth of the game. Moreover, this system is built on the B/X chassis, which means that all of these many complex bits are explained clearly, fit logically, and are comprehensible to most English-proficient adults and larger children. This is a system, thus, designed, not something in the AD&D tradition where the rules have evolved, red in tooth and claw, and are conveyed to the wide-eyed reader in the rambling manner of a wizened old sage who’s appeared out of a snowstorm to squat a while by your fire. The latter is an advanced game requiring not just poetry in the soul but also a cultural context steeped in wargaming clubs of the 1970’s. The former is a manual usable by anyone capable of sitting down and RFM’ing it. This shows when you see the two systems’ adherents, where the slightly befuddled acolytes of AD&D speak in hushed tones of the religiously converted. Not so here, these are rules understood by the mind, not the heart.
   This gives an unkind impression of the writing itself, however. ACKS II is well-written, its rigorous tables and data never getting in the way of the friendly, readable prose that calls the reader to adventure every single page. You’d read this for pleasure easily enough, and it’s made to game gosh darn it. This might harm ACKS’ reputation among its fanbase, but it is actually fairly accessible. As long as someone doesn’t get the vapors over its immense scale.
   In the end, I think ACKS II is wise to specialize in “most doorstopperyist” here. The way to make money in a crowded market is to either play up to the crowd, or to specialize to a small subsection. Light systems are always going to be popular with the largest mass of people, but the issue with chasing the mass market is that you’re competing with a bunch of other people chasing that mass, and the people are fickle. OSE was the darling of the vaguely OSR-ish mass for a while, until a prettier system that did rules light better (not better rules, maybe, but definitely lighter) came in the form of Shadowdark. ACKS II isn’t made for the masses, its made for the fans, a group of passionate people who want the single most complete game in the world. So, this. And the author’s making a comfortable living by giving his fans what they want.
   So what do they want? Well, next time, we’ll see how they start…

​A dungeon by Brian Richmond, levels irrelevant
Written for KNAVE (or Rakehell)
  There is no more essential lair than that of THE DRAGON. I have long decried the balance of Dungeons to Dragons being severely skewed away from our sinister scaly friends into the mundane masses of goblins, orcs, and oozes. Brian Richmond agrees with this trifold adventure, which populates its seven-room lair with only a WYRM and its BROODLINGS. No cultists or kobolds for him. I could wish it wasn’t written for Knave (the man plays Rakehell but keys for the New Hotness), I could wish the format was booklet instead of trifold, I could wish the keys were numbered or lettered (instead just labels on the map), but all of that is forgivable if you hand me a dragon lair.
   What I liked is that this adventure product has dragon and I like dragons. Yay. Unfortunately we’re going to rapidly run out of further praises. I like the idea of a little “rousing the wyrm” track. There’s a list of actions that the PCs can take (like casting spells, killing a broodling, or speaking of treasure for example) that each have a 50% chance of ticking off a box. The product seems to assume it’ll be done privately by the GM, but I might actually make it explicit what’s happening, but keep the details of what exactly triggers the check secret. The whole list is very flavorful, a nice mix of out-of-game traits and roleplay stuff along with practical in-game actions. That’ll be wonderfully tense and fun for the players. All the tables have great flavor like that.
   It’s often just my complaints, but when I talk about what can be improved here, I really do see all of these improvements being implemented. First, and this is pretty normal, a little more map complexity wouldn’t go amiss. Secundus, while the tables are flavorful as all heck, a lot of the rewards and contents are all descriptive, not at all practical. Knave likes loosey-goosey numbers but it’s not freaking Cairn, you are allowed to say “5,500gp”. Related to both objections, after the first very flavorful entry, there are three paths that have somewhat unclear different challenges. There’s a lot of great flavor here but a little less homework would improve things. Again, freeing yourself from trifold format restrictions would go a long way to fixing this. Running it in a real TTRPG system that is optimized for fighting dragons in dungeons would be the best improvement.
   Best use case for this is truly the ULTIMATE use case for any adventure: Use it to house a dragon that will melt your players’ flesh from their bones. There’s also a ton of flavor to be mined from its whimsical tables if you’re okay needing to invest a lot of work into it. Maybe its easier in Rakehell.
   Final Rating? **/***** but oh MAN does it make you want to rate it higher. If you’re willing to invest time and effort into the Maw, it’ll reward you.