Some Spells

Here are a few spells or spell-like effects that could be found in a spellbook, as a one-time device or scroll, or as an effect or trap somewhere in your dungeon.  Add spell level to suit your campaign.

Expedient Quartermaster

This spell conjures, for the caster and up to six companions, a supply of personal gear appropriate to thier occupation and the surrounding environment. Each gains a fortnight of rations, a suit of clothing or armor, and general items useful to the situation. A cleric in a dungeon might gain plate, shield, mace, and a pack including spikes, rope, holy symbol, lantern and oil. A fighting man out-of-doors could expect chain, sword, bow, horse, and saddle-bags with foraging and camping gear. A magic-user in a castle would find courtly robe and hat, staff, scroll case, and portable desk full of writing materials and spell reagents. The items are always of the finest quality but are never magical in any way. Those supplied by each particluar casting of the quartermaster will appear as a matching unit, with armor or clothes of similar style and color. In certain situations a group item may also appear, for example a group near a body of water will be provided with a suitable boat or raft.

Byzal’s Windy Conveyance

The caster and up to six others grasping – or grasped by – the caster are instantly swept into an extradimensional whirlwind that transports them to the location envisioned by the caster, up to one mile away. No matter the destination, the travelers are tossed in the wind, completely out of control, for thirty seconds. All torches and lanterns will be extinguished and travelers have a 50% chance of dropping whatever they are holding. On arrival the travelers must spend a full minute regaining balance and breath before capable of anything else.

 Larkajanur’s Ominous Valediction or The Curse of Inconvienient Attention

Save versus spells or opponents faced with a choice of targets will always choose to attack you above others. Lasts until dispelled.

Ekhion’s Inflexible Reprieve

The inflexible reprieve is a one-time displacement triggered by an eminent danger (thus preventing damage from a successful attack by an enemy, exploding fireball, etc.) or the spell’s duration, whichever comes first. The spell lasts ten minutes for every two levels of the caster. Unwilling targets of the spell may save versus magic, but once the spell is successfully applied it cannot be removed. To determine the character’s new location roll d8 for compass direction, d100x10′ for distance, and place the character into the nearest unoccupied space.

 Almetor’s Petulant Arms

Will affect 1d6 beings; those who fail a save vs. spells will find weapons writhe, turn, and jump in thier hands. Those with uncooperative weapons should subtract 3 from to-hit rolls. The spell lasts for one turn.

The Mercurial Spirit of Prabacor

Casting this spell summons a mischevious, uncontrolled unseen servant-like spirit that will remain for a turn per level of the caster. Roll for reaction.

2-4: Resentfully harasses and distracts the caster, preventing spellcasting, tying shoelaces of his friends, slamming doors and so on.

5-9: Spirit neutral towards the caster, but will look for excitement at someone’s expense. In this state the spirit can be offered goods or services in exchange for favors. What could it want? Otherwise it may wander off, become interested in someone or something interesting, or simply wait to be returned wherever it came from.

10-12: Independently provides help by, e.g., opening doors, harassing or distracting enemies, setting off traps, etc.

Roll Your Own

Two blue-sky hopes for a new commercially-produced D&D.

Create a common-denominator product

One of the biggest missed opportunities with D&D is the idea of a basic set that remains unchanged and consistently promoted over time such that, like Monopoly, Parcheesi, and Scrabble, every family has a copy in the closet.

It should have been Moldvay, or perhaps Mentzer.  Something simple, presentable, with a look-and-feel.  I am hopeful that part of the new strategy includes a basic book or set fills this role and is promoted properly.

This is a roll-your-own game.  Help the customer roll-their-own.

The recent description of a modular selection of monsters and spells where you select the bits you want and have it shipped to you as a custom-printed book is a move in the right direction.  Why not expand that to the ruleset?  The bare-bones game includes the DNA of D&D – six attributes, experience and level progress, three or four base classes, d20 combat, saving throws, simple d6 initiative, and a basic selection of classic spells and monsters.  Something close in spirit, simplicity and openness to OD&D or Moldvay.  It is relatively clear, uncomplicated, recognizable within wider popular culture, and self-contained.

On top of that can be added layers of additional classes, spells, kits, more complicated initiative systems, ascending or descending AC scales, skills, and a whole variety of other rule variations.  Aerial and naval combat, rules for miniatures and mass combat, commerce and industry, castle construction, etc. Settings information and custom classes or races appropriate to whatever IP you want to add – Dark Sun, Ravenloft, Greyhawk, whatever floats your boat.

A given customer would make the choices they prefer and download their custom ruleset, or have a printed version sent to them from lulu or whatever.  These customizable books could come in standard flavors for those who do not want to fiddle with choices (preset options might include basic, legacy (OD&D!), expanded, complete, miniatures, hex-crawl, naval, dungeon.  Basic would be the default slick version you want in everyone’s closet).  Certain settings could come with default spell and monster lists – “want to play in a default Greyhawk-themed game? Click here!.”  A DM could post a link to her house rules so that players could print out (or download) that specific configuration of rules and show up to the game with a sense of what to expect.

There are a lot of rough edges to be filed off this idea, but the technology exists.  If WotC is really wants to put D&D back into the hands of customers this is one way.

Mapping for Constantcon

Just finished my first ConstantCon game using google+ and had a blast.

A recommendation for others playing on-line.  One way to share a map in common with all players, aside from periodically holding up a sheet of paper, is to use a shared on-line whiteboard.

Someone got tired

It worked pretty well for this session.  There are several free sites offering whiteboards: we used
http://www.twiddla.com
 which worked quite well.  No sign up required, you simply go to the website and click on “GO: Start a New Meeting.”

The resulting page should include, on the right-hand side of the screen, a box that says, “Give out this link to invite people to this meeting” and a URL.  Send the URL to the folks in your game and you can all visit the web page and see and edit the same sketch.  No sign up, no password, no hassle.

The tool is not super-fancy, but it serves.  And can be used for illustration of the action, as well.

Our heroes fight a giant beetle, using only a 10' pole and burning oil

Similar services are
http://cosketch.com/
 and
http://www.scriblink.com
(I have not used either one, but they seem similar).

When Magical Blades Ruled the Earth

Another rule with possible wide-ranging consequences. From Monsters & Treasure page 30:

…the origin of each sword is either Law, Neutrality, or Chaos, but some of these weapons are forged by more powerful forces for an express purpose… …a score of 91 or higher indicates the sword has a special mission. Swords with special purposes automatically have intelligence and ego categories moved to the maximum score…

One in ten magical swords thus has an ego of 12. Depending on your exact interpretation of the rules, such a sword will automatically gain control of any fighting-man of level 6 or less, and wins a contest of wills 75% of the time versus a fighting-man of up to level 10.

These swords will dominate those around them and use those human resources in pursuit of a special purpose. Such weapons surely become objects of fear and simultaneously sought-after sources of power. Such swords could produce:

• A Kingdom whose ruler is possessed by a neutral Sword +2, Charm Person Ability. The sword has built a charmed army of tens of thousands, biding time before moving in pursuit of its mysterious special purpose. All visitors to the Kingdom, including PCs, are immediately hauled into royal audience for charming.
• A bandit troop leader controlled by a lawful sword with the special purpose: steal from the rich and give to the poor.
• Hapless low-level fighting men possessed and relentlessly ridden to exhaustion or death in the pursuit of a sword’s special purpose (for instance forcing a hero to march in the direction of the sword’s chosen enemies non-stop for days until worn out, then passing the sword off to the next likely body…).
• A chaotic sword made for slaying clerics, whose preferred wielder is afflicted with mummy-rot or some other terrible disease but of course every time they go looking for a cure…
• Famous swords whose exploits are legend but whose owners are anonymous and even bards struggle to remember their names. “Harken to the story of the famous Durandal, held by Rolo, Rollie, no, that’s not it, um…”
•  A lawful sword made for slaying fighting-men; its wielder is made to provoke duels of honor with any prominent hero they come in contact with, including the PCs.
• High-level lords, wizards, and patriarchs striving at any cost to collect and remove such blades from circulation.

In a world containing some of the above, PCs may be more squeamish about picking up magical blades.  Or perhaps not…

 (Please feel free to add your awesome ideas in comments)

OD&D Certainties: PC Death and…?

On page 24 of The Underworld and Wilderness Adventures there is a throwaway rule related to upkeep. I have not seen it used in any version of D&D but think trying it to see what emerges is a worthy experiment.

Player/Characters must pay Gold Pieces equal to 1% of their experience points for support and upkeep, until such time as they build a stronghold.

It is a tidy way to relieve characters of money and makes intuitive sense: the upkeep and daily needs of a hero are more costly that those of an unrecognized veteran [1]. But what emergent behavior will it create?

The reason no one does this, of course, is the enormous and annoying book-keeping task created. The DM will have to calculate upkeep each time experience and treasure have been divvied out and experience totals have changed. This implies a weekly levy using the recommended rules on time in the campaign, or possibly a one-time fee each time a character gains experience.

One behavior the upkeep rule might reinforce is desire to attend each game session: miss too many sessions and your character’s coffers are slowly depleted. The rule might also create an incentive for players to spend their money quickly to prevent it being bled away over time.

Have you done this in your campaign? What other emergent behaviors have you encountered?

 

 

[1] For instance, a veteran spends between 0 and 20 gold a week on quarters, food, mending armor and weapons, training, and the like. A hero has deeper responsibilities and a reputation to uphold: more expensive repairs, upkeep of retainers, henchmen, horses, perhaps established rooms at an Inn, and thus spends 80 to 160 gold a week. A superhero will have visitors, guests, emissaries to entertain, minor bribes and tributes to bestow, taxes to pay, a retinue requiring day-to-day allowances, one or more bases of operations as she prepares a stronghold, exchange costs and commissions, and could easily spend 1,200 to 2,400 a week.

OD&D provides chunky experience rewards

And now a return from the heady thoughts of domain- level campaigns and estimating the cost of the accountant-hirelings you need to manage your riches. Let’s go all the way back to the first level dungeon and wrestle with experience gain in OD&D. Is it too slow? For monthly games it can literally take years for a party to build to mid-levels.

I wondered what the rules-as-written allocation of experience might reveal or confirm about the rate of advancement in dungeons, hoping it would help me decide if slow advancement is a problem (for me) or not. The Underworld & Wilderness Adventures gives guidance on stocking a dungeon on pages 6 – 8. Here is a rough summary:

Thoughtfully place a few important treasures (magical items and large amounts of wealth) in out-of-the-way locations, with or without guardians and traps. Then randomly generate contents of remaining areas. 33% of rooms contain a monster, with half the monsters having treasure. Of the remaining empty spaces, 16% have treasure (likely guarded by a trap or trick).

Let us imagine a dungeon with 100 rooms on the first level. Of the 100 rooms,

•  X contain non-random, DM-placed treasures and encounters
• 55 are empty
• 11 contain treasure
• 16 contain monsters with no treasure
• 17 contain monsters with treasure

Expected treasure for a first level encounter is 52 gp with additional 5% chance each for jewelry, gems, and magic [1]. The expected value of each gem is about 233 gp [2]. The expected value of each piece of jewelry is a whopping 3,410 gp [3]. The distribution of treasures should look something like this [4]:

•  X “important” treasures
• 1 or 2 treasures with gold and jewelry, expected value 12,005 gp each
• 1 or 2 treasures with gold and gems, expected value 887 gp each
• 25 treasures with gold, expected value 52 gp each

This is a key element of the by-the-book DNA shaping am exploration-based game. Your party only levels by finding hoards; you find hoards through exploration and discovering out-of-the-way areas.

The rules promote periods of slow experience gain characterized by exploration, mapping, and retreat, followed by a big payoff when you find the occasional hoard. If your character is not present during the big payoff, you lose out. If this is seen as a problem there are obvious workarounds: make the average treasure bigger and reduce the size of hoards. But consider how else that may effect the feel of the game and behavior of players.

[1] See pg. 7

[2] Ignoring the specified 1-in-6 chance for each gem to be in the next higher category, because.  I am using the gem and jewelry tables from Monsters & Treasure pp.39-40.

[3] Look! We found a Bracelet of Leveling!

[4] This distribution provides about 19,350 experience from treasure, about enough to level a party of 5 to second level (assuming a 50% death rate along the way and other lost exp). If we assume an additional 6,000 exp from monsters (17 encounters plus wandering monsters) the level offers about 25,000 before the DM’s specially-placed important treasures are counted. And this is a 100-room first level; a similar 50-room first level would provide 12,500, etc.

Spiritual Mishaps

Once an OD&D cleric reaches seventh level, they are able to cast raise dead.  This removes some, but not all of the sting of death*.  But once sundered, the bond between body and soul may not be seamlessly repaired - and death surely has a hangover worse than a headache and unexpected tattoo.  Here are some random things that might happen to someone who has returned.

1. Death rejects you: next save versus death +5
2. Death irritated to have lost you: next save versus death at -5; failure results in bodily/spiritual disintegration
3. You have caught a spiritual sickness in the underworld: -1 to saves vs. death, poison, paralyzation, stone
4. Hitchhiker!  Ride-along weak spirit saps a hit point a day until evicted.
5. Hitchhiker!  Second soul can seize control in times of stress, as magical sword.  level (1+ 2d6). 1-2 MU, 3-4 Cleric, 5-6 FM.  Roll INT and use WIS instead of ego.
6. Hitchhiker!  Demonic possession.  Lose 1-3 points of wisdom, gain 1-6 hit points.  Lawful swords will have nothing to do with you, no matter your alignment.
7. Hitchhiker!  Guardian spirit, will act once to save your life then disappear.
8. Not fully back: you are slightly out of phase with this plane.  -1 to AC, -1 to initiative**
9. Kindred spirits!  Spectres and Ghosts seek you out and are chatty instead of attacking.
10. Sentient undead are envious, always attack you first.
11. Your soul expanded slightly, no longer fits body.  +1 STR, -1 DEX
12. “Just not the same.”  Lose any and all past NPC henchmen, retainers, friends.  -1 CHA
13. Zombie impression at will; zombies will ignore you.
14. You can now hit magical/ethereal creatures without needing a special weapon.
15. Unnatural: cleric spells and god-inspired magic will no longer affect you.
16. You return able to speak an ancient eldritch language.
17. You return only able to speak an ancient eldritch language.
18. Two copies of you come back.
19. Deathly afraid…  You must now make morale roles as NPC retainer, and flee when indicated.
20. You are back in your body, but your soul is in the possession of someone else…

 Various mechanics could be used with this table; e.g., re-order from worst to best option (you choose!) and let the level of the cleric determine how big a die the player gets to roll.

Ideally this table should have 100 entries.  What do you suggest? 

* The fine print: works only if your body is intact, not too much time has passed, you are not a hobbit, and you survive your roll against adversity…

** For those using exotic AC systems: lag makes you harder to hit, but your reaction time is slow.

How awesome is your fighting man?

The image of the super-hero cutting a swath of destruction and mayhem through a troop of goblins is a key D&D trope. But how to simulate an overpowering attack in the confines of abstract combat rounds? The increasing “to hit” ability of the fighting-man (paired with better saves) captures the hero’s increasing prowess. But simulating combat vs. multiple enemies requires an additional mechanic – hopefully one that lets players be awesome(1). Otherwise a 10th level fighter takes eight rounds to slay eight goblins every time, and that is not awesome.

AD&D addresses this in two ways. Fighters get multiple attacks as the gain levels, and versus enemies of less than one hit dice they get an additional attack each round per level. This allows a lord to indeed put down eight goblins in a round or two.

Another more random possibility: a variation on Zak’s kung-fu points, where hitting your number could mean, for instance, that damage you do in that round applies to all enemies within melee range.

A third approach is seen in Empire of the Petal Throne. Once a hit has been determined in EPT, the damage (number of dice rolled to determine damage) in part depends upon the relative level of the combatants, so:

Why, yes, I am level "Vee Eye Eye Eye"

The example included in the rules extends the possibilities: damage can be applied across multiple enemies. The example is worth quoting, since it is open to multiple interpretations:

This becomes important in melees in which an advanced level character fights more than one low-level opponent. Fighting three Kurgha (one die creatures), a 9th level warrior rolls four dice. If he scores a total of 18 or better, he kills them all, since thier maximum total hit dice cannot exceed 18 points. A 4th level fighter does 2 dice damage to these same creatures, and the referree then rolls to determine the hit dice the three kurgha can take: let us say a 6, a 4, and a 2, totalling 12. If the fighter scored a total of 10 on his two dice, he would kill the weakest two Kurgha and leave the strongest one with only 2 points remaining!

How this works in mixed-level opponent situations is left as an exercise for the reader. One fallout of this system – any 10 hit die creature could in theory slay a group of 1st level players in one round with the swipe of a claw…

Do you have an alternate or favorite way to allow fighting-men characters to be awesome? Feel it is unnecessary? Please add in comments!

(1) ”Awesome” here is a shortcut for “engaging play” – awesome could be spearing two orcs at once, an epic fumble, or whatever fun and unexpected thing the dice and situation dictate, as long as it captures the attention and imagination of the players at the table.

Ode to Thoopshib

 

One of my favorite encounters is the Kuo-Toa ferryman offering passage across the underground river in module D2: Shrine of the Kuo-Toa.[1]  The encounter is a gem-like example of the admirable qualities of early D&D. (Please note spoilers follow, if you wish to play D2 in the future.)

 Evocative:  Sets a feel of gonzo, surreal weirdness.  As written in 1978 this creature was the first Kuo-Toa encountered, so is strange, exotic, and horrific.  Yet when he approaches, it is for mundane purpose: to croak out in the eerie underground language the price for passage across the river.  Imagine encountering a lovecraftian fish-beast lurking in the dark near an underground river who opens his mouth and says… “Do you want the blue plate special?”  The overall effect communicates loads of atmosphere.

 Non-prescriptive:  The players get what they bring to this encounter.  As Gygax says in the introduction to the module, “the river crossing, can be very easy to accomplish, or the rash party can turn it into a deadly nightmare.”  The result of meeting Thoopshib could be anything from peaceful transaction to a nasty combat and/or an accidental raft trip all the way to the Sunless Sea – largely driven by how the characters respond to the situation, not a pre-ordained script[2].  Yet the likely outcomes are reasonable based on party actions.

 Random element:  Thoopshib is unbalanced, and if he is not understood he has a chance of going berserk.  The chance of him flipping out provides both an element of surprise for the DM, and a layer of challenge for the players – have they realized they need to be able to communicate with the denizens of the underworld?  Have they secured a translator during their journey so far?  Even so, the situation could still turn bad – welcome to the underworld!  (Note this represents an elegant solution in this encounter to analysis/paralysis – the longer the players dither over how to deal with Thoopshib, the more likely he is to go off.)

For those who like literary and story-telling elements in their adventuring, the encounter is foreshadowing (and metonymy, for you english majors).  This simple encounter is at heart the whole module writ small: an encounter a savvy party can simply walk through, but a combative or greedy party can founder on.  Thoopshib offers a very topical lesson to the “rash party” capable of learning from experience, right before they walk into the Shrine.  In writing this is known as “show, don’t tell.”

 Concise: In less than half a page, 600 words, EGG outlines a robust encounter, limning the situation such that a DM can fill in details, adapt the situation to a particular campaign, and respond to a wide variety of player actions easily, all without losing the general outline or purpose of the encounter.  Like with many (but not all!) of the D&D ur-texts, there is a lot of content and little wasted space. (See “Evocative” above.)[3]

 1) [SPOILER] For those not familiar with the encounter, it occurs at a river crossing along the shore of a vast underground river.  Thoobshib is an “unbalanced” Kuo-Toa who charges a fee to pole passengers across the river on his barge.  He offers to ferry the characters across, speaking in the common tongue of the underworld.  Each time he has to repeat his offer he has an increasing chance of going berserk and attacking.  He is a formidable creature and even a large and powerful party appropriate to the module (at least six players, average ninth level) will have trouble if they do not handle him well.

 [2] In sharp contrast to later D&D products (I am looking at you, Dragonlance) the characters could actually be completely sidetracked out of the rest of modules D2 and D3 if they are not careful, in a sort of anti-railroad.

 [3] I wish I could write like that.  Instead, my little review here has used 663 words and three footnotes! to describe 605 words of encounter.  For shame! ; )

When deliberation needs to be done

In watching the first episode of I Hit it With My Axe the following exchange caught my ear, because it so captures an emergent behavior of D&D.  And because we at the Mule spent yesterday trash-talking about the very same issue.

Sasha: “…and then there is a lot of deliberation…”

Sasha: ” I like deliberation when deliberation needs to be done, but sometimes you just go back and forth and say the same thing over and over, and -”

Zak: “- and whose fault is that?”

Sasha: “All of ours”

The potential for what is sometimes called analysis/paralysis is rife in D&D.  Coming to terms with how those discussions work, and finding a balance of approach(es) fun for all the players is an integral part of the D&D experience.   If the group does not have fun with those situations, the game will not be fun.  But once the deliberation part of the game is fun… people are hooked.

I can’t wait to see more episodes; it is going to be really cool to see what other familiar conversations come up.  Grats to Zak and his players for making this happen.  My hat is off to you…