Bathtub Reviews are an excuse for me to read modules a little more closely. I’m doing them to critique well-regarded modules from the perspective of my own table and to learn for my own module design. They’re stream of consciousness and unedited harsh critiques. I’m writing them on my phone in the bath.

Wet Grandpa is a 32 page system-agnostic module written by Evey Lockhart with art by Anxy. It is a surprisingly complex knot of family and neighbourly interactions for such a short module, becoming untangled to reveal river gods and water curses.

The player summary is brief, directive, and well-written, with a map that subtly alludes to what is to come. The game master summary is compelling, but leaves enough gaps that it feels unsatisfying. From here, the zine procedes through the town of Fatfish, the river Naiads and their dungeon, and the Wet Grandpa and his family, ending with random encounters along the river Whey.

Evey writes very well, particularly when the topic has a dark fairy-tale magic in it. Her writing is at its best when it is loose and rambling, which unfortunately is at odds with the ease of usability in this module. I think more sense could be made with more conscious use of headings and more judicious use of bold, italics and small caps, which in combination make the read more challenging than it needs to be. The art here is all about the vibes, and varies from fantastic, evocative and useful, to jarring and out of place. The maps, especially, are perfect in service of aesthetics but not clear enough to provide guidance when the text is unclear.

The writing is uneven and feels unclear regarding its own identity, or perhaps is shackled to the past whilst desiring to innovate on the form. At one point, a two page timeline of the past fifty years of Fatfish history, detailing the slow decline in a pointless amount of detail. In another, a trap is given gygaxian detail, but the dungeon map is unclear where the trap is (or if it recurs) and key information regarding where it might be lies in a separate section. In a third, the naiads are statted out like gygax’s gods, but treated in the text as far more ineffable than those demons meant for slaying. Inconsistencies like this make it challenging to understand what Wet Grandpa is trying to be.

I think Wet Grandpa is trying to be exactly the kind of module I like. Fatfish is a fascinating town, dead and with a few small families living off its corpse. The river-naiads are ineffable gods, vengeful and fearful of the new Wet Grandpa. Wet Grandpa is a deadly power, a challenge to the gods, and entirely unaware and continuing to potter around their farm not knowing why his wishes come true; his children fleeing in fear. Nobody cares about the party; everyone is just getting on with their lives. This social aspect of the module so often hits the mark. But the naiads are pages to run a few simple characters, as is Wet Grandpa. I don’t think the gorgeous evocative writing adds anything to my running it; I’m a little hesitant to call it evocative, as there’s so much writing in places that I’m left without impression rather than with one.

I want to love it, and I kind of do love it? But running Wet Grandpa would be a labour of love, I suspect. I might be wrong, though. Perhaps the pace is slow enough that finding my way through this short zine wouldn’t be a barrier. Perhaps meeting these weird, doomed characters would be the exact pleasure I want them to be. Wet Grandpa achieves more in only a few pages than many modules achieve in hundreds. It doesn’t live up to its confused ambitions, but if a fairy-tale appallachian river cruise with horror elements feels like your jam, it’s worth reading, and hopefully it’s length abnegates it’s structural failings.

25th August, 2023

Idle Cartulary