Black Pudding #7

I'm very proud of Black Pudding. What started in 2016 as an experiment to create the kind of OSR stuff I liked to see has persisted, albeit at a slow pace. This post is about the latest issue, #7.

This issue is a milestone for me because it includes a 16-page gazetteer (17, counting the names tables) setting of my fantasy world of Yria. I had toyed with this idea for a long time, assuming I would have to devote an entire 100-page book to the topic to do it right. In the end, I realized all I needed was a quick-and-dirty GM's guide to the setting. And 16 pages did the trick, at least for me.

It starts with a map, as is often the case. I have a love-hate relationship with maps. They define things a little too much up front for my tastes, but they are also beautiful and inspiring - and the whole point of any Black Pudding zine is to inspire. The Yria map is one that has went through a lot of incarnations over the years, but the one showing up in BP7 is as close to legit as you're gonna get. Hell, in a future edition I might utterly change it. I don't know. Each TTRPG table is its own world, after all.

Next you get a list of the major areas on a d66 table. So 36 areas are given as possible birthplaces
and/or adventure locations. I also include a d20 inspiration table for adventure keywords, something I've always done for myself. I often call these "beats". So when I'm coming up with an adventure to run I might list 3 or 4 beats such as ritual, paranoia, moon, and dead crops. Beats sort of paint the images in your head. The keyword table in BP7 includes words that are essential to the Yria setting. They are not random words, they all have meaning to me. They are deliberate choices.

The next two pages are an actual gazetteer of the 36 locations, ala X1: Isle of Dread. Less is more. I went with broad strokes, planting images using keywords for each location. Instead of describing the government structure and ruling elites of Seapath, I just tell you the vibe: One of the five cities. Serpentine across the mountain pass, ruled by the rich, sought by the desperate. Come to trade, stay to dream. You get an image of the city (serpentine across the mountain pass... it lays like a snake, humped over a mountain). You know who runs the show. You know why folks would go there and something about why they might stay. It seems to be a place rife with corruption, but also full of hope or at least potential wealth.

Next five pages are devoted to the five cities. Yria only has five cities of note. Any other cities are either ruins, cursed, or not very big. This concept is very much in the vein of the "points of light" across a "dark wilderness" motif. That is, I believe, a super-effective way to game*. Each city gets one page with imagery and various tables for what you might see or encounter. The rulers are noted, and a very brief description is given, akin to the 36 location gazetteer style. So if the short description of Seapath from above isn't enough, the one page for Seapath gives you a little more.

The second half of the section is the mythos. This mythos (100% using that term because of Deities & Demigods, the most inspiring D&D book of all time) has been with me for many years. Decades. It underpins almost every fantasy setting I've ever created or tried to create. It is based on one dozen beings, each of which I sketched onto small blue cardboard cards sometime in the early 2000s. Those images appear in the book, though in gray scale of course. The section gives you that list of beings and their general powers, broadly-speaking. Being heavily influenced by Deities & Demigods, I wanted/needed each of them to be corporeal as well as spiritual and eternal. They have bodies. They have stats. You can interact with them.

Rather than giving the specific stat block for each deity, I opted to merely suggest them. Each one is based loosely on an existing B/X monster. So for example Black Wing (death) is based on a giant roc with 300 hit points. Each god is described loosely, focusing on their demeanor and concerns. Some sketch is given of how you would worship them and what their clerics are like. And the final detail, which I really liked, is that each one has some lists of keywords to describe being in their presence. I think that's all you need.

The whole thing wraps with 5 d66 tables of common names, each keyed to one of the five cities.'

In case you ever wondered, this is my favorite thing so far in the series. I realize it isn't exactly the same kind of stuff that made the zine popular. It isn't hand-scrawled, it isn't universally useful. It's very specific to my world. But I designed it as loosely as possible to allow easy access. It is very easy to steal from.

Other things in the issue are more typical of the zine. There are 4 new character classes, one of which is the Rat Bastard. I created that one way back in 2017, which is why it, more than any other, has the tone and vibe of early BP issues. It was meant to go into issue 2 but somehow I left it out. I have no idea what happened or how I missed it all these years. Happy to finally include it.

The other class I really love in this one is the Eyeball. That one is a keeper, for me. And we also get some coolness from contributor David Okum! A handful of monsters and a character sheet round the thing out. In fact... this one features my favorite character sheet so far. I love this one because it is the cleanest and most useful that I've ever created.

*The first proper D&D campaign I was ever in, way back in 1987 in high school, started as a crude 8.5 x 11 map of a town. It was the DM's setting at that point. I think he only knew the town and nearby areas, so that's where we adventured. It grew a bit over time. It's a brilliant way to do a campaign: don't flood the players with information! Just paint the image and start playing.

World-Building Thoughts of No Consequence

Just random thoughts about world-building and stuff. Nothing useful here, carry on.

World-building has always been at the heart of what I love about RPGs. It might be one of the reasons I didn't actually game nearly as much in my youth (or now) as a lot of my gaming friends out there. I was very content to sit in my room cross-legged in my chair with paper and pencil and D&D books just making up characters and the worlds they live in.

I had a character called Catina Catrid. She was one of my first D&D characters, along with four of her friends: Briun Branduk (I was a fan of alliteration), Liara Altrin, Mastrin Raulus, and Cybia somethingoranother. They were a thief-acrobat, fighter, thief, magic-user, and a mystic (the NPC class presented in 1985's Master Set). Though none of these characters saw action at the gaming table for more than one or two sessions, they lived in my mind for a few years and had many adventures. I occasionally levelled them up based on storylines I wrote in my notebook. I had intricate networks of relationships and I used the domain-building rules to construct their castle and do bookkeeping for their domain. It was fun!

To this day I spend a lot of time just alone, noodling out ideas for settings and characters that may or may not ever see any final form either in a book or at a gaming table. It's what I do. I can't imagine a life without this inner fantasy life that has given me so much joy for decades.

 

The Paint Job

No, this post is not about painting or art. It's about old school gaming, house rules, and hacks. It's a bit meandering. Apologies.

I've been thinking about the many, many ways I've hacked B/X to make it play closer to my ideal way. This is no more evident than in all the different posts I've made about fixing the broken Thief class.

I've been working on various ways to alter the standard rules for my upcoming Doomslakers B/X project. I have wrestled with lots of ideas and found them all too fiddly, too trivial, or just too much.

Lately I've hit upon an idea that seems promising, though. It's a simple one, nothing rocket-science about it.

Instead of hacking the rules, maybe I'll just present my "meta rules" as an option, then keep the rest of the content more-or-less defaulting to the standard rules. For my own games, I use the meta rules, But you don't have to.

Most obvious example is luck. I always include some kind of luck mechanic in my games because I feel like without some degree of direct player-facing mechanic other than mechanics tied explicitly to character action, players often feel frustrated by game play. I know I do, and this is why I include such mechanics.

But luck doesn't modify existing rules, it just goes on top of them like a nice paint job.

What other kinds of rules could function in this way?

Well, Death or Debasement is definitely going to be part of the project. This comes from GOZR. It basically says when your PC dies, you get to decide if they are actually dead or not. I mean, why not? It's your character, after all.

Choosing Debasement means your PC is miraculously alive, has 1 hit point, and will be down for 1d6 rounds (probably out of the fight). Alternatively, perhaps they need to pass a Death save to recover and act.

Choosing Death means they are dead and you get some minor perk for your next PC, such as a bonus to an ability score or something.

Meaningful choices. More interesting that flat out death at zero hp.

EDIT: Choosing Debasement also means you randomly roll (or maybe choose) one permanent effect, such as losing some HP, dropping in an ability score, or something more in-world, such as losing a hand or whatever. Surviving death isn't free.

Another meta rule concept isn't so much a meta rule as a setting rule. Not unlike the old AD&D 2e "kits", the setting itself will modify character classes and PCs with choices the player can make, such as rolling on random character traits tables.

Here's where the Thief gets a lot of love, too. Because in Yria, the world of Doomslakers and Black Pudding, all Thieves are trained by a guild and there are five guilds, one for each city. And each guild's training impacts a Thief's skills and abilities in specific ways. The player who chooses Darkmirth as their guild (and perhaps home city) will be much better at stealth while the Thief of Kanebok may be more acrobatic and better at stunts. For example.

The net result of all this is that to play games set in Yria or to just mine Yria for ideas and adventures you don't have to adopt any of the meta rules if you don't wanna. It's fine. My feelings will be hurt but that's ok.

I'll ramble more later.

Up From Hell

Zasto Filistian, wizard of Seapath, returns from a trip to Hell, emerging from a sewer well. His mind struggles to contain the lost spell of immortality, the object of his quest. His imps offer him a special book in which to transcribe the spell (and a towel).

The city of Seapath is one of the five cities of Yria. It is perhaps the most accessible city, especially for the low-minded and adventure-ready. It is sprawled across a mountain pass leading to the western seas and you can see it in all its glory on the cover of Black Pudding #5. Note the angry assault by Url'Armagog, one of the Children of the Worm Witch, his slumber disturbed from the depths of Lake Drowning.

Ah, Yria.

You know how every Dungeon Master worth their salt has a world of their own? It's true. Mine started the day I learned about the existence of D&D. I spent my first few years as a gamer gaming alone. I spent countless hours in my room making D&D characters, writing elaborate histories, drawing them, making ornate character sheets for them, and running them through solo adventures. Eventually I compiled all my notes and ideas into a three ring binder labeled "Midaka", my campaign world.

This morphed over time. Much of the juvenility of Midaka was left by the side of the road on my journey into proper adult elfgamehood. But much of the DNA is still there, along with all the other stuff I've added over the many years.

Sometime around the mid-2000s I had an explosion of ideas that lead to the Pan-Gea comic book and the creation of Yria - my fantasy RPG "campaign setting".

Sometime soon, perhaps in 2022, I hope to create an iteration of the setting for proper use in fantasy TTRPGs. A reference work, a user's manual, a tome of inspiration (or two). Working title has been "Doomslakers B/X" for a while, but I'm not sure what will stick. What makes the most sense is to just call it Yria. Not a D&D Gazetteer style work full of epic levels of detail, but more of a art-before-function work of inspirational material very lightly sketching out a fantasy world. The imagery will do most of the talking. Random tables will fill in most of the detail. The actual prose bits will be more akin to what you see in X1: Isle of Dread... short and high level, more a collection of descriptors than a fleshed out narrative.

But we'll see how it goes.

GAZ

Some thoughts about setting. Also, last post of 2021. Hope you are having a good New Year!

The gazetteer of the Known World from X1: The Isle of Dread is a little over 1,200 words. At the time of this writing, the gazetteer portion of Doomslakers B/X is a little under 1,200 words. I am not sure what this means. How much is too much? How much is too little? When it comes to campaign setting material, this is a matter of taste and often strong opinion.

My opinion has always leaned into less-is-more. I buy RPG books based on a few criteria and one of them is that they not be overwhelming. If the book is thick enough to deal 1d6 hit points of damage I probably won’t pick it up. My sweet spot really is the saddle-stitch realm of 32-96 pages, with a very strong (irrationally strong) love for 64 pages. If you can’t fit your idea into 64 pages then you might need to do some brutal editing. Just my opinion, for me personally.

Why? Because my time is limited, my attention span is limited, and I don’t enjoy treasure-hunting for a rule or reference in a 300 page monster of a book. I like succinct, but with style. I like brevity, but with character. The Basic and Expert rule books are excellent examples of brevity and usefulness, especially Expert since it also includes much from Basic. Star Fronters’ Expanded Rules is another classic example of delivering the goods in 64 pages.

(Aside: I do enjoy massive catalog style books, though. Here I’m really just referring to core settings and/or rule books. But if you make a 500 page monster catalog I’ll be into it. I don’t have to read it all, I can find inspiring bits and use them as I wish.)

X1 describes 16 distinct areas on a single page and includes a cool drawing of The Broken Lands by Jeff Dee. X1 gives us bare-bones descriptions. It's a beautiful little gem of world-building because it is so simple. A map coupled with some descriptions of entire nations that clock in at 100 words or less… enough to get any campaign started, with a little imagination and elbow grease from a dedicated DM. That’s pretty much the heart of old school gaming.

Of course D&D took the Known World much farther with the publication of 14 Gazetteers and a box set. Probably hundreds of thousands of words in total. Too much? Yes. Way too much, for me. I appreciate that those books exist and I own a few of them but I wouldn’t use them in any campaign. I’d steal from them though. And I have.

But I think you can do more complex settings than what is in X1. I mean, 1,200 words is perhaps a little too bare-bones. I was thinking of Yoon-Suin as a great example of a rich and complex setting that is at the same time very simple and easy to use. Because the book is composed almost entirely of random tables, it means the book isn’t prescriptive. You don’t have to know all the history and lore because you are generating it each time you use that book. I love that approach.

Another example of excellent world-building is found in Barrowmaze. The setting is small and laser focused on tomb raiding. The book is well organized and gives you all you need to run a campaign. It fits into an existing world easily or you can run it without referencing the outside world at all. Meaty and lean.

The setting of Mork Borg is a good example of image-first world-building. The details are less important than the vibe. This is the kind of setting you can pick up and run without having spent more than ten minutes examining it first. Bare-bones, but highly evocative. As if you took the text of X1’s gazetteer and reformatted it with art and layout to make it look sick.

For Doomslakers B/X there will be a lot more than 1,200 words. The book is a campaign setting, after all. But I’ll still fit the rules tweaks, new content (spells, monsters, magic items), and gazetteer into 64 pages – with art.

Umbrashade

 

Umbrashade, +2 Sword: User can see clearly in any darkness. Infernals take max damage on every hit. 1/day, user can cast Darkness of dispel it. If sword exposed to light more than 3 rounds in a row, user must save vs. Wands or the sword crumbles to dust.

Perhaps a million years ago the great Shadow Knight of Darkmirth, in their war against demons, drew Umbrashade from the obsidian mountain far beneath the city and imbued it with the Knight’s own will. The sword remained true and hard for centuries until the city fell to ruin. Now Umbrashade itself is falling into ruin and must be kept hidden away in darkness, locked in a magically sealed tomb somewhere in that black city.

Gootmaul

Gootmaul, +1 war hammer, +2 vs. reptiles: User can cast Fear, Snake Charm, or Hold Person 1/day. Weapon speaks a Contact Outer Plane spell 1/week, but user must make an offering to strange gods first. Speaks its mind when it chooses.

Deep in the Ovens of the Earth, where orcs are spawned on the regular from the passing of demons, there roamed a pack of giant snakes. These snakes were called Igg, Zind, and Broo and other than being smarter than the average serpent they were self-assured of their dominance. Though few mourned the swallowing hole of many orcs, some orcs took issue with the situation. The little-known Orc hero Bant Brashlin, an accomplished metalworker, took to the forge and, with the help of unknown magics, emerged a year later brandishing Gootmaul. Within three weeks the three dreadful snakes of the Ovens were smashed to pulp.

River Tickler

River Tickler, +1 sword, +2 vs. aquatic: The user of this flamberge can swim like a fish and can breathe water for 6 turns 1 time per day. Aquatic monsters will always attack the wielder of this sword first.

The Wizard known only as The Dolphin used this blade for many years on her exploits along the Waving Wyvern River before she was eaten by the terrible Helligator.

 

Slowpoke

Slowpoke, 1+ short sword: Each round the user waits to attack, add +1 to hit or to damage. On a Critical Hit, the target must Save vs. Poison or take 1d6 damage per round for 1d6 further rounds.

Among the Goblin peoples, patience is not a virtue. But the Goblin hero Gog the Looming (he was almost 5' tall) prided themselves on being a patient warrior. After Gog aided the wizard Gim, the old magician repaid him with the gift of a sword with patience to spare. Unfortunately for Gog, he waited too long in a battle with the Elf assassin Lier Landor and died a mere month later.

Cascade

 

Cascade, +1 Sword: Each consecutive hit after the first deals +1 additional damage. Any missed attack deals 1 point of damage to the user. 1/day, the user may speak to the sword's devil spirit as if by the Commune spell (1 question, 20% chance it is a lie).

Stormdriver Thornheart, one of the greatest of the old dwarf forgers, was challenged by a powerful and mysterious hero to make a weapon that could contain his dark soul's fury. He then heaped sacks of gold upon the table and added "If it is within your skill to do so." Thornheart, being a proud artisan, immediately agreed. When the forging was finished and the dweomers sealed, the dark stranger marveled at the blade's beauty. "And now" said the dark hero, "let us see if it can contain the fury of my soul." The dwarf's final payment was the full length of Cascade in his heart. The sword drank, the eyes of the pommel glowed, the enchantment was complete.

Goblins!

I have had my moments when I fought hard against fantasy tropes. Back in 1990, when I was a year out of high school, I decided "no more elves, dwarves, and dragons". I switched to GURPS and ran a campaign in my world of Midaka. It had its moments and was fun, but ultimately flopped out and was never finished. Mostly because I am just not a big GURPS fan, as it turns out.

But that's such an aside and not the point here.

The point here is that I do love certain fantasy tropes and lean into them pretty hard with my D&D. Dragons are not one of them. I just never got into them. But goblins... now I love me some gobbos.

I did a goblin character class for Black Pudding:

In my campaign world of Yria, goblins are born from rot. Wherever food or carcasses lay to decompose, there is a chance that goblins with emerge. They are green, generally, and foul. They eat their own. They have no manners or sense of moral shame. Their culture, such as it is, arises from certain ancient curses that caused them to be spawned from rot in the first place.

Goblins can be good. Mainly because I don't use alignment in my games, typically, and I figure if you want a kindly gobbo you can certainly have one.

Goblins use whatever weapons and armor they can get their greasy little fingers on. They are naturally skilled at working together to bring down enemies, favoring the setting of nasty traps and flat-out bum-rushing foes in a cluster of green. Their wills are quite weak, so they are easy targets for powerful leaders such as wizards to rally them into service. If a goblin believes they are fighting for a higher cause - almost any cause - they will fight harder for it. They enjoy being told what to do and complaining about it later.

A similar monster, the nasty ork, is born from the same primordial curses. But orks are spawned from wherever a demon or devil or other infernal hell creature steps or spreads its spore. Thus they are rarer, bigger, and more wicked. While a goblin's desires lie in eating and sleeping, mostly, an ork's chief desire is to hurt others. Orks also have weak wills and fall easily under the yoke of more powerful creatures.

I say all this because I've been thinking about writing up my campaign setting in a series of zines (little books, whatever) so I can have them in print. It would sure help me organize and not contradict myself at the gaming table. "Now... what was it I said about orks and imps? Oh, let me check the book."

The DM's Notebook vs. The Campaign Bible

Over on this post, Froth sagely points us to this post by The Angry GM about a delicious little idea called the campaign bible. A campaign bible is just your GM notebook filled to whatever degree you deem necessary with your notes about the game you want to run or are running. You don't show it to anyone because it's yours and it's a mess. You don't write it for anyone to read. You don't write it for publication. It is a tool. It is called a bible because it's the repository of reference information necessary to make your campaign good.

Sweet idea.

Today I happened to pull the old TSR World Builder's Guidebook (Richard Baker, 1996) off the shelf. What a wonderful little saddle-stitched tome this is. Not only is it chock full of useful tables and ideas for creating a fantasy world, but it's got the best of the late-era TSR page design going on. The headers and callouts are color, the art is monochromatic, the tables have that nice gray bar thing going on. It's a solid book if you can score a copy. You can get the official PDF here.

As a sad side note, the artist who illustrated this book, Glen Michael Angus, died in 2007. He was born the same year as me and his work was very stunning. I'll post a few pieces from this book below. R.I.P. Glen Angus.

Anyway, I'm flipping through for ideas when I hit page 4 and Baker tells us that we should definitely keep a DM's notebook. This is a great example of the idea of the Campaign Bible expressed in an official AD&D product 24 years ago, which is pretty cool. I'm guessing there are other examples even older, perhaps in the pages of ye olde Dragon or perhaps White Dwarf, but I don't know as I'm not an expert on the matter.

Baker's bullet list is pretty good. If you followed his advice to the letter, you'd at least be a well-prepared GM. I particularly liked his inclusion of a "tickler file" where you jot down the various goals, desires, and needs of your Players' PCs for use in adventure design, with the nod that Players might be more interested in adventures that ping their individual or group interests. Sage indeed.

So how does Baker's advice compare to The Angry GM? The Angry advice is more random, more angry, more visceral. And I really loved this bit right here because it's truth:

Creativity is what happens when random things bump into each other in your head and form some kind of connection.

Also, this hits home for me because I have always kept such fact sheets myself:

A fact sheet is a sheet of facts. Short, succinct lists of informational bits and bobs. Not prose. If you can’t master the vital skill of distilling things down to the important points and removing the excess crap, you can’t communicate effectively. Quit GMing.

The Angry GM gives you many more reasons to keep a bible while the Baker entry is short, sweet, and to the point about what you should include in it. I don't think these two things contradict as they are clearly talking about the same idea, just 20+ years separated in time and with wildly different formats. Both have one goal: to make you a better GM. Noble.

Here's an oldie: The Dungeon Master's Design Kit, for AD&D 1e. I never owned this. But it's got a lot of form sheets for the DM to use in creating NPCs, monsters, encounters, chases, and big ass finales. Sounds great. Given the nature of much of the official material of the time, I suspect it is dry and wordy and not very compelling. But I do see a fair number of random tables, so that's a plus. And who the fuck is going to fill out a whole one page form on a single chase scene before it happens? Talk about a bit of a railroad approach. I guess this was the era of Dragonlance.

And check out that badass art by Glen Michael Angus!

As to my own version of the DM's notebook/campaign bible, it's not well organized at all. But I do have some habits I've been following for many years.

Prior to the internet, I always kept a literal file on each major project. Inside the file would be various sketches, maps, and notebook sheets scrawled with madness. Before that I would use spiral notebooks to draw and write everything in. And I was kinda obsessive about keeping things separated. I wanted a different notebook for each idea. Most of them were filled with blank pages buffered by 1-20 pages of actual notes.

Post-internet, I started keeping digital files exactly the same way: filled with sketches, art, reference pictures, and various word docs and spreadsheets (these are my fact sheets, per the paragraphs above). Today I tend to keep my docs and spreadsheets on Google Docs or in DropBox so I can get them at work. I always have a spreadsheet and I have even named them "bibles" in the past. They contain lists of names, places, and ideas for the thing, along with random tables.

None of this stuff gets shared. Not because that's a rule, but because why on earth would you share your own personal random scrawlings? The stuff you share is what comes out of those scrawlings. The adventures you run, the finished art, the finished books (if you're publishing). You don't share your bible stuff. It's fuckin' ugly.

Swipe File

One thing I would add to the notebook/bible concept is the swipe file, a term I swiped from the comics industry, who apparently swiped it from the advertising industry. Whatever the history, my use of the term is very simple. A swipe file is a file full of images and ideas that inspire you or have the potential to inspire you. I find this a highly valuable tool for creative work. I tend to keep multiple digital files full of stuff as well as private Pinterest boards and other such nonsense. When I'm feeling slow, I browse the files and see what gets drummed up in my brain. Never be a afraid to borrow and steal little nuggets from other creators because they damn sure did the same thing and anyone who tells you differently is a fuckin' liar. Nobody makes shit up whole cloth. Nobody.

Glen Michael Angus

When I Googled Glen Angus' art for this book I got nothing. Nada. Zilch. He did work on M:tG and other TSR books, and some of that comes up, but I wanted to showcase his work on The World Builder's Guidebook. So I scanned a little bit of it. Here are a few images from the book by the late Glen Michael Angus.

More Original Zyn Dweomer

In this post I had some images for the races of my setting, Land of Hof, which I was calling Zyn Dweomer for a time. Here's a map I drew for the setting when it was Zyn Dweomer.

The idea at the time was to have three kingdoms.

Arcazia was the land of the elves, who were masters of spacial magic. In theory their domain was limitless because of the way they used their magic to warp space and time, bending it in ways that defy logic. The elves here were also darkly humorous and weird. Their customs were abominations to the puritanical humans.

Grynmere was a vast lake or inland sea surrounded by picturesque hills and fields. This was the land of the grimmers, a sort of mix between goblin and dwarf and gnome. Their deal was hospitality. You go to Grynmere if you want good food and relaxation. But don't start any shit because you'll be at the bottom of the lake wearing iron boots.

Ondwaland was the human lands. Humans in this version of my setting were just the most regressive dickheads imaginable. Loosely inspired by Rome and the Catholics and imperialism in general, they had this oppressive monotheistic religion and a mandate from god to dominate the world.

So the idea was to have this constant tension between these three peoples. There would be an uneasy treaty at any given time, with the humans trying to find ways to expand, the elves fucking with the humans, and the grimms trying to remain neutral and make mad cash off the stressed out humans coming to their lands for respite.

One of the ideas lounging around in my folders and my head that will probably never see the light of day (in this form anyway).

The Original Zyn Dweomer

From 2008, this little race graphic is a visual note about the five races of my setting Land of Hof, which I briefly changed to Zyn Dweomer for a month before deciding ZD was gonna be all anthropomorphic animals.

Norg are horned giants and they actually have bluish skin.
Oribii are short cartoon people. You can see them in Black Pudding #5.
Mongra are animal people.
Grimmers are like goblins and orks and shit.
Arcazians are elfs. I actually drop some Arcazia on you in Black Pudding #4 on the elf page of the OSR Playbook.

My older ideas seep into my newer ideas, demanding that I use the most prominent elements of them somewhere so they don't fade away and die.

Here's another version.

RIG

The Troika! setting book I'm working on, Supercalla, has a lot of sci-fantasy weapons and some of them bear the name "Rig". This name goes way, way back for me. It's just a name I slapped on a gun in a drawing years ago and it kinda stuck.

Weapon doodles.

This is part of how world-building works in my head. I get these little images and ideas over time and they build up a setting that is distinct (in my head, again) as an entity but not really very clear or detailed. Then when I start trying to develop the idea for an actual thing to be published I realize just how loose and nebulous these ideas are.

For example, what is "Rig"? It's the name on a laser gun. But that's about all I know. Based on how often it comes up in my sci-fantasy stuff, Rig seems to be a very popular brand of personal weaponry. So now I know a couple of things: Rig is a brand of weapons and it is very popular. Also, the style of Rig blasters is rounded and almost has a bit of steampunk vibes built into it.

Here's an example of an old, old drawing where Rig comes up.

First use of Rig in a drawing? Maybe. 2001ish.