This is the next part of a response to a long standing request from wickedmurph that instead of just declaring what I don’t like about the track WotC took with 4E D&D, I instead try my hand at fixing it.

The usual ground rules:

Try to remember that this is just an exercise in what I would have done. Everything here is opinion. Feel free to disagree, consider me an idiot, whatever. If 4E works for you and your gaming crowd, then by all means play it to your hearts’ content. I applaud all fun had in this hobby. However, as I’ve stated numerous times, 4E doesn’t work for me or my gaming crowd. As a result of this, I would not have made the same changes to the game that WotC did. What follows is where I would have focused my changes and where I would have gone with the intellectual property.

My methodology in the process will be guided by a short list of principles:

• Rules should be simple guides, with options to be expand by the DM.
• Rules should lead to interesting options.
• Rules ignored should be rules removed.
• No Rule is sacred.
• No inspiration forbidden.

For this process I’ve decided that my jumping-off point with be trying to turn 2E into a better version of 4E by removing the bloat of the 3.xE versions of the game. Today’s focus: fixing the cleric class in D&D.

I shouldn’t have to, but I will point out a brief note on the use of god in this discussion. I’ve used god in places where it will stand for both god and goddess. The use of the simple god isn’t meant to infer that I’m not referring to a female goddess, it’s just easier for me to type. – KO

The role of the Cleric

Clerics are supposed to fill the role of support. It is my opinion that, where the fighter as cavalry, magic-user as artillery, and thief as covert ops holds sway, clerics should be seen as logistics and support. They’re the glue that holds a party together. In fact, that’s the role Gary intended.

A study of the spells usable by clerics will convey the main purpose of the cleric. That is, the cleric serves to fortify, protect, and revitalize. – AD&D Player’s Handbook, page 20.

Embrace it, let the “support and protective role” nature of the class flourish.

So where did the class go wrong in my estimation? Simple, the cleric class has become an unmanageable morass of everything so much in the past editions that its actually become the everyman. Let’s take a look at the reasons why and see if we can’t address the cleric as the everyman.

A Bold Statement

It’s not the fault of the class; it’s the fault of the DM. That’s right, if you’re a DM and clerics in your game have become walking, buffing tanks that stand toe-to-toe with the fighters, then the blame falls squarely on your shoulders. You gave the player too much narrative control in the cleric. You didn’t put boundaries on the class. And that’s what the cleric should have. In fact, that’s what the cleric needs to flourish. Here’s a class counter-intuitive to my own way of doing things – this class needs to be reigned in. Before it is allowed to be in the player’s hands, you have to put some boundaries on it.

Step 1: Defining god

As a DM, you need to define the divinity in your game before you allow a player to take on the role of a cleric. Without a defined structure under which to play the class, players will take narrative control over the gods and start making decisions that should reside with the DM.

A few examples and descriptions of decisions players tend to make that should at least be influenced by Step 1:

• Which spells they can pray for and cast. You, the DM, play the role of gods in your world. By natural extension, you should decide how to interpret the requests of the cleric for divine influence. The player should make requests, not make decisions.
• Armor and weapon selections. You define what weapons are appropriate for worshipers. If the god of healing abhors death and pain, then weapons such as nets and the like are appropriate, not clubs and knives. However, if the same god of healing enjoys the presence of pain and torment on the mortal plane in order to glorify his power over these concepts, then by all means allow your worshiper to inflict damage with tools most dire… but be sure they’re ready to expect the same god to desire the glorification too.
• Their place and interactive role in the scheme of the party. Worshipers of the god of death might find their place in the front of the party where they can glorify their god by sending all comers to his welcoming bosom. Followers of the self-denying god of the void might require the party to give up (and not sell) any treasures they don’t necessarily need.

The nature of the gods in your game should set guidelines on how the class should be role-played as well as help to flesh out the allowances given a cleric. Again, this is really counter-intuitive for me since I prefer an open system, but here the rules are required to prevent a class that gains all the benefits with none of the drawbacks. In essence you need to define your world’s hierarchy of gods, what worshipers are allowed and what benefits of worship brings. The 1E Deities and Demigods alluded to this concept. 2E tried to do this more significantly. 3E tried to step it back to the 30,000 foot view with domains, but the benefits were never balanced with drawbacks and led to DMs using the templates as presented as rules to be played. I don’t think that was the intention, but is sure became the normal method of defining the class.

Again I know, in the past I’ve derided balance, and yet here I’m espousing it. But this class needs balance within it to function properly. A specific god should be countered by a specific other god. Powers granted to the worshiper should come with drawbacks. Fail to balance the internals of this class and you’re removed interesting decisions. My issue with balance is between the classes, not within a single one.

In following with the idea that rpgs need guidelines, I won’t go into detail on specifics since those are for you as the DM to decide, but here are a few examples:

• A god of war isn’t going to look to fondly on a cleric who constantly requests what might be considered a coward’s spell. Perhaps worshipers of your war god views pain as the natural outcome of struggle and therefore doesn’t grant healing, or perhaps worshipers of this faith view death in combat as glorifying and consider resurrection and raise dead spells heretical.
• Perhaps the god of health refuses to grant requests for damage-dealing spells.
• A god of death might be more than happy to grant damage-dealing spells but ignore all requests for healing since the reaper must come to all… Of course if the healing will allow their instrument to further the cause of death, healing might be just the ticket… or maybe that raise dead spell results in the creation of an undead instead.
• Perhaps devout worshipers of the All Father are revered as skilled politicians and negotiators but are forbidden by doctrine from assisting the winner’s side in a battle once it has begun. Though they are not required to offer aid to the weaker side, they must extract themselves from any conflict (verbal or physical) and offer no further assistance to the winning side during the fight. Once the weaker side is defeated however, aid can once again be offered to the victor.

These definitions of how a god views the world should help to define the class and give the player some interesting options in game play. See how each helps the player shape their role within the world? Counter-intuitive I know, but it has to be this way. Step 1 is to define the nature and role of the gods in your world. Fail to perform this step and clerics will forever be the everyman since it’ll be the player who decides if a spell is appropriate or the use of a weapon or armor allowed. I’m all for allowing players narrative control, but in this case, the guidelines and framework under which they must work should be set forth first. That’s your job as a DM.

Step2: The power of faith

The next step to fixing the cleric class is to remove healing spell access from arcane spellcasters. Arcane classes shouldn’t be healers and healers shouldn’t be arcane spellcasters. Blurring the lines was a terrible idea. Returning the class-niche protection actually does more for the game than removing it ever did. In addition, I would remove any part of the Heal skill that grants direct HP recovery. While a properly bound and dressed wound may speed healing, the same bandages and dressings do not grant healing themselves. There are only two actual ways to get HP back, rest and divine intervention. This bolsters the support role of the cleric and takes the role of revitalization out of the hands of the arcane classes.

The nature of the divine spell

Clerical spells are the manifestation of the god’s intercession on behalf of the worshiper because of their faith.

I can’t stress this concept enough. Divine spells aren’t recipes or formula like their arcane counterparts; they’re the direct result of requests for divine aid. As a result, for spell selection, a cleric should operate like a sorcerer. All spells below the cleric’s level (and approved by the god worshiped) should be open at any moment for a cleric to cast. The two part reason for this is simple: 1. gods wouldn’t send the faithful crap spells based on some preconceived rule that says all requests are to be done during the hours of 6 to 9, and 2. no god will ignore a request for a different spell just because those prayed for don’t fit the bill. 3E removed the restriction partially by allowing spontaneous casting of healing spells. I contend that maintaining the restriction on all other spells is a ridiculous rule. This means that henceforth, like the sorcerer, a cleric can cast any spell of his level or below at any time. They need not prepare spells, they simply ask for divine intervention and either get an answer or don’t… or at times get a spell they hadn’t requested but is deemed by the god more appropriate.

Pray for a miracle, get it. Need healing? Done. Need to cure a diseased teammate? You got it.
Could also lead to; pray for a miracle, get something else. Need healing? Maybe a bless instead. Need to cure a diseased friend? No, but providing food and water for the night would be more appropriate.
But also; pray for a miracle, get ignored. Need healing? Not right now. Need to cure a diseased friend? No, his god has plans for his soul when he dies and I’m not going to anger the other god just because you can’t see the big picture here.

If we change the nature of cleric from “a list of pre-prayed for miracles” to “the instruments of their god’s will”, we see the cleric in its real light and realize that they should be the vehicle through which the glory and might of said god is portrayed. Healing and protecting and assisting the team suddenly glorify the god, by nerfing the cleric’s support mechanisms we’ve limited that glory and made for a less interesting character. Allowing a  cleric character’s player to select a spell at the time of casting makes more sense in this analysis since no god’s going to ignore a legitimate request if the worshiper really needs it.

Seriously, who wants their god to answer, “Oh, uhm… sorry, you prayed for Cure Light Wounds this morning. Now you’re asking for me to forget that request and grant you Bless Water instead? What do I look like to you? Some sort of divine wish granter or something? Look, I’ve got to go… some guy’s requesting that I help him turn some undead now. Geez, when are you worshipers going to get with the program and take care of some of this stuff yourselves… sheesh, you’re like pulling me in a thousand directions or something. You’d think you guys think I’m like omniscient and omnipotent or something. Next time be more careful what you request in your morning prayers will you? As of right now you’ll just have to make due with the Cure spell thingy. Maybe tomorrow. Oh, and don’t forget to donate that 10% tithe next time you hit the temple… I’m your god remember, I’ll know… omniscient remember?”

The book is just words, faith gives it power

Since divine spells are seen now as requests of intervention offered because of faith, then it is all to logical that clerical scrolls hold no real magic. As a result, though it’ll lead to some further discussion I’m sure, clerical scrolls should be eliminated as magical treasure items. Leaving clerical scrolls in their standard form leads to ideas that the scroll can force intervention by a divine being. As a DM, I’m personally not ready to go down that path for a 1st level bless spell. That’s not to say that scrolls of ceremonies and prayers should not be considered treasures, but they hold no magical power in the hands of any but a cleric. Even if I can envision some forgotten ceremony that might entreat a slumbering, ancient and powerful god for a boon, without faith, the ceremony is but words on a page.

You cannot fail

There is No Failure Rate on divine spells since the Cleric’s spells are manifestations of their god’s actions via their faith. Failure would indicate their god is displeased with them. Random displeasure really doesn’t have a place in the role of a Cleric. I’m not going to go into this further other than to say that some will contend that the failure mechanic for divine spells should be introduced as a means of describing when a god determines a spell isn’t necessary. I disagree. That’s your job as the DM and referee, not the role of a random roll of the dice.

I know, I know. The DM is a jerk and will decide on a whim that my cleric can’t cast an all-important spell at the precise time it needs… Look, if your DM is a jerk, then forcing rules upon him to prevent his jerk-ishness isn’t going to stop him from finding ways to be a jerk. Here’s an idea, if your DM is a jerk, then stop playing with him.

Fear factor

Worried? So what happens if we do this? What’s our new fear? This might overpower the cleric. Suddenly, in the class of the cleric, we have a support structure for any crazy thing the party wants. What are our options? Where do we draw inspiration? Do we nerf healing spells? Nerf the Cleric? what?

Here’s an idea, what if we embrace the cleric’s role as support and let him cast as many supporting and healing spells as his heart desires so long as it falls in line with the desires and motivations of the god? Have we really changed the class too much?

But wait! There’s more…

Let’s look at what the cleric brings to the table now:

• Gird yourself in the Armor of God – Clerics, when their god permits, can use it when magic-users can’t. Since divine spells are demonstrations of faith and not arcane recipes that require precise motions, armor doesn’t impact spellcasting capabilities. However, that armor should always be appropriate to the divinity worshiped.
• Take up the Sword of Truth – Likewise, clerics should be allowed to use any weapon so long as it is appropriate to the god they worship.
• You can’t write this stuff down – Clerical scrolls are now gone as magical treasures since faith can’t be penned in a manuscript.

In exchange for stepping into a support role, the cleric has a lot going for them. That said however, when it comes to spell grants, armor and weapon selections, it is the DM’s responsibility to, as the role of the divinity, interpret the requests of the cleric and grant the spell that their god thinks is most appropriate (if at all.) Its the role of the DM, in conjunction with the player, to help identify which requests are answered, which are ignored, and which are answered in ways different than expected. Remember that “God answers all prayers, but sometimes the answer is No” and also “He works in Mysterious Ways.”

Imagine the depth the cleric now has because we’ve fenced him in. Suddenly the god becomes the focus as glorified via the character’s actions and decisions. That’s where and how the cleric should be.

From the New York Times Op-Ed article:

Science fiction never imagined Google, but it certainly imagined computers that would advise us what to do. HAL 9000, in “2001: A Space Odyssey,” will forever come to mind, his advice, we assume, eminently reliable — before his malfunction. But HAL was a discrete entity, a genie in a bottle, something we imagined owning or being assigned. Google is a distributed entity, a two-way membrane, a game-changing tool on the order of the equally handy flint hand ax, with which we chop our way through the very densest thickets of information. Google is all of those things, and a very large and powerful corporation to boot. – William Gibson, 2010

He certainly has an interesting take on Google as an organization and how it intersects with everyday life.

In a response to a previous discussion on how I would remake the magic system in D&D, wickedmurph conjectured:

The other thing that this system would do is really make scrolls viable items again, even for magic-users. No chance of fizzle!

That’s an interesting idea to infer since I hadn’t really addressed casting spells from scrolls. Naturally that got me thinking, ”Should spells cast from a scroll (or wand, staff, rod, item, etc.) follow the failure rules?”

My initial answer? I really didn’t know. But that’s an interesting question worth examining more fully.

In with the new

First up, a really short primer on the way I proposed magic should work by eliminating a bunch of the ills Vancian magic brings to the system. Those interested in reading how I got to these changes should read this post.

• Magic-users can cast any spell they’ve studied without the need to prepare.
• Arcane spells have an innate failure rate equal to Spell Level x 5% that determines if the caster performed the incantation correctly.
• Armor causes arcane spells to fail to be cast.
• Sorcerers, if they’re still present, have access to any arcane spell so long as the spell level is not above their class level.

I’ve already declared my dislike of one time use scrolls, so the idea of no failure from such a device is, at least on the surface, a concern.

The only thing we have to fear

Let’s examine this concern in the same methodology as we examined the magic system proposed. We do so by looking into the fears and examining a mitigating factor or a way around the concern. So what’s our fear?

• That we’ll have magic-users (not all arcane spellcasters – reason identified here) who are carrying around massive amounts of scrolls in order to circumvent the failure rules. And since rules ignored are rules removed, eventually we’ll have a situation where the failure mechanic will be ignored and we will find ourselves in violation of the second fear identified during the redesign of the magic system itself.
  • Related to the above, that they’ll be carting their spellbooks into battle in order to do the same.

Establishing a baseline rule

Let’s examine how other magical items work and see if we can find (or invent) a good general rule.

If we apply a spell failure check from a scroll, then by natural extension, shouldn’t we do the same from a wand, or a staff? What of a spell cast from a magical sword? Though some of the inspiration for our new failure mechanic comes from a view of magic not unlike that in the Harry Potter books, and failure with wands is appropriate in that analysis, it hardly seems fitting with the theme to make Bilbo’s player roll to see if Sting can sense the orcs in the caverns above him.

And what of the extremes? What of Artifacts? Can you fail to operate one? Probably not likely. Fail to operate it properly? You bet! Perhaps that’s not a good metric to use in our analysis.

What of the opposite extreme? What about a simple potion, can the magic contained within it be consumed incorrectly? I think not.

It appears, under this analysis, that magic items really shouldn’t be hindered with spell failure. Therefore I would nearly be inclined to conclude that spells cast from scrolls must not have a failure possibility.

Concerned yet? Don’t be. We’re about to take that turn at Albuquerque.

Where does the magic reside?

And this is why I disagree with Mark’s view of scrolls.

In the previous mentioned analysis of magical items, the magic of the items resides within them. Swords are magical, wands and staves alike. The very liquid of the potion imbibed is infused with magic. Using that magic releases it from the item in question. Think of each item as a repository for the magic, they’re magical in nature.

But what of scrolls? If you take the classical stance that the magic of the spell on the scroll is the scroll itself, then you arguably need to have one-time use scrolls that can be used without fear of failure. Sorry, but that feels artificially Vancianesque to me. And you’ll need to come up with some logic why, for some strange reason, this may or may not apply to the spellbook (or at least it only applies when you cast the spell out of the book directly.)

These are the standard views of scrolls versus books. But the rules for when the magic is released aren’t very logically homogeneous. In some cases transcribing the spell to the book destroys the original scroll. but the reverse (from book to scroll) doesn’t. And I could go on but I won’t. Suffice to say that DMs have argued and twisted their logic to account for when the magic is released and when it isn’t, but it strikes me as a collection of special case rules.

I’m not a fan of lots of small special cases when a single logic could bring all possibilities into the fold.

I take a different stance. I see the scroll no different than the book. Both contain the recipe, not the magic. The magic has to be harnessed by someone who knows how to apply the formula. That’s why only magic-users can use scrolls and why, even if commoners could read the thing, they can’t cast the spell.

But there’s a drawback (for the player) to this line of thinking. However, it addresses our fear identified above because in this view it is the magic-user who is casting the spell, not the scroll. So failure rules apply even to those spells cast from a book or a tome or a scroll. If the item casts the spell, then failure doesn’t apply. If the item provides the methodology but the spell is cast by the character, then roll for success.

Sorry murph, I’m going to have to disagree; spells cast from scrolls should be subject to the same failure percentage as those cast from memory.

Find my logic faulty? Tell me where I went awry.

I’m getting old. I just cannot read through an electronic document containing a rule system and garner an understanding of it. My brain must be hard wired. I need a book in my hand I can read and then flip back and forth to re-read a section. All very possible with soft copy rule systems and I have no issue with them.

I want the physical book in front of me. Worse yet, I am not happy with a bunch of printed pages unbound. I truly want the book format, soft or hard cover. Perhaps my psyche was imprinted when only bound texts were available.

I was ecstatic about the rise of the self publishing industry. So much new material was available for fogy’s like me or in electronic format for the people who preferred that mechanism. Somewhere along the line, the self publish industry burned a few bridges. Apparently quite a few. I cannot comment on the situation but when the bulk of the rpg community choose not to utilize those services, I have to believe there is a valid reason.

Is self-publication a dead end? Or are the few players in the industry too onerous to work with currently? I find it a sad state of affairs. I cannot stand reading the pdf’s but there is no alternative for many quality publications. I will not buy them because I won’t read them. Not fully.

Tomb of Horrors is one of my top-10 classic modules. It is brutal. For most, it is nearly impossible to conquer when played under the original rule set. Certainly, it was not typical of the modules common during the late 1970-80′s. Instead of following the purely random path of slaying monsters, Gary chose to make it a thinking man’s game. In fact, he states so in his introduction.

THIS IS A THINKING PERSON’S MODULE, AND IF YOUR GROUP IS A HACK AND SLAY GATHERING, THEY WILL BE UNHAPPY. In the latter case, it is better to skip the whole thing than come out and tell them that there are few monsters. It is this writer’s belief that brainwork is good for all players and they will certainly benefit from playing this module — Gary Gygax, 1978

Gary essentially stated that there are many ways of playing the game and experiencing a variety of them is a good thing. No single approach is the correct one. Rather, a variety of differing approaches is beneficial. I cannot argue with his logic. Kevin has recently been arguing Gary’s case.

Tomb of Horrors is a very short module. Using only 12 pages, Gygax generated more TPK’s than any other book published to date. If you eliminate the cover page and the 2 pages devoted to character selection, he did it in 9. Amazing. Nearly everyone has seen, played, ran or read the module in one version or another. The original is the only one I recommend.

Tomb of Horrors also contains an often overlooked element. The module has an Illustration Booklet in the middle. The booklet has 32 illustrations covering 20 pages. That’s right. The module has twice the number of pages entirely devoted to illustrations than it does to the actual text description. In fact, the module only contains 33 noted locations so the illustration to location ratio is nearly 1:1. Add in inside depiction of the entrance skull and the ratio is truly 1:1. I think Gygax would have enjoyed mixing media and probably would have loved DeadGod’s Ravenloft setup.

If you are one of the few who hasn’t played it, get a group together for a retro 1st Edition campaign. You can then join the vast number of people who love to hate it. Follow his character recommendations at the end of the module. Also, take note of his disclaimer on the intro page:

As Dungeon Master, you may fill in whatever background is needed, and if this a section of a campaign, players cannot have obtained the Legend Information without consulting sages, casting legend lore spell, finding the information in some arcane work, or whatever; all prior to actually locating the the actual locale of the Tom and then getting to it, so that background will have been accomplished. (When this module was used at Origins I, referees were instructed that the the hill had been found in the Vast Swamp, and the party had arrived there in barges). – Gygax, 1978

I’m going to recommend that disclaimer for the most run-on sentence in any supplement I have ever read. Apparently TSR didn’t have editors at that point. Essentially, I think he meant: Toss it at them. No prior knowledge. Make them think.

I wish Wizards of the Coast had never chosen to reprint the module. Sadly, they did so in a bastardized sequel for 4E. Instead of a true reprint, they took the fame and glory of the name and reworked it. Badly, in my opinion. True to their philosophy, they added more monsters to make it “balanced”.

Play the original. Under the rule base of the day. You will be happy you did. If you want to read a funny take on the module, you cannot go wrong with Something Awful.

Now we can commence with the TPK stories.

This post is in response to a long standing request from wickedmurph that instead of just declaring what I don’t like about the track WotC took with 4E D&D, I focus on expending energy taking a crack at fixing what I think is wrong with D&D. I accepted the challenge as a fair and resonable request and could have simply tossed out KORE as a representation of what a rpg should be, but that would have been (at least to me) disingenuous. KORE is a seperate, universal system and not a representation of what I think D&D should be. However, given my last rant, I thought it was time I set to the task.

Some ground rules on the process:

Try to remember that this is just an exercise in what I would have done. Everything here is opinion. Feel free to disagree, consider me an idiot, whatever. If 4E works for you and your gaming crowd, then by all means play it to your hearts’ content. I applaud all fun had in this hobby. However, as I’ve stated numerous times, 4E doesn’t work for me or my gaming crowd. As a result of this, I would not have made the same changes to the game that WotC did. What follows is the first piece of where I would have focused my changes and where I would have gone with the intellectual property. Expect more posts to follow in later days.

My methodology in the process will be guided by a short list of principles:

• Rules should be simple guides, with options to be expand by the DM.
• Rules should lead to interesting options.
• Rules ignored should be rules removed.
• No Rule is sacred.
• No inspiration forbidden.

For this process we can assume our starting point is one of the following:

• Go all the way back to 2E and take a different approach to changes into a new 3E.
• 3E or 3.5E since they’re fundamentally the same creature (those wanting to argue otherwise should consider that the entirety of the changes in the system fit in one nice downloadable pdf) and make our way forward ignoring 4E.
• Start with 4E and try to clean it up.

Neither of the last two options really appeal to me since I have issues with both 4E and 3.xE versions. As a result, rather than just frustrate the daylights out of myself trying to fix 4E, I’ll go with trying to turn 2E into a better version of 4E by removing the bloat of the 3.xE versions of the game. This isn’t to say that 2E is a great starting point, but it’s probably the best choice we have if we want to retain some continuity without just creating our own OSR. However, I do intend to address the roots of the problems in the game, so some of the things I’ll be changing will go all the way back to the beginning; magic is a perfect example of this.

Where to start?

The first thing I would have done was address the issue with spellcasters being so wimpy at level 1 and artificially hamstrung nukes at higher levels. 4E addresses this by balancing all the classes with powers that follow a special formulaic mechanic of daily/encounter/etc. use powers and skills. Basically, in 4E, WotC applied all that’s wrong with Vancian magic to everyone. So first up on my chopping block: Vancian magic and all that it does wrong, and finding a way to have the perfect union of a single concept in two forms.

For those unfamiliar with the term, Vancian Magic is a specific form of “rule magic” that conforms to these functional rules (along with whatever other metaphysics the writer chooses):

1. Magical effects are packaged into distinct spells; each spell has one fixed purpose. A spell that throws a ball of fire at an enemy just throws balls of fire, and generally cannot be “turned down” to light a cigarette, for instance. I may not like this specifically, but for the nature of a D&D game, it works fine and I believe we can leave it alone.
2. Spells represent a kind of “magic-bomb” which must be prepared in advance of actual use, and each prepared spell can be used only once before needing to be prepared again. That’s why it is also known as “Fire & Forget magic”. This is a major sticking point for me. We’ll be addressing this specifically.
3. Magic-users have a finite capacity of prepared spells which is the de facto measure of their skill and/or power. A spellcaster using magic for combat is thus something like a living gun: he must be “loaded” with spells beforehand and can run out of magical “ammunition”. Again, this is wrong in my estimation so we will also be eliminating this in our new system.

Vancian magic is described more fully here and here.

This article by Gary is a good read on how Jack Vance’s Dying Earth influenced the D&D game.

I sincerely think that in 4E, WotC went down the wrong path when they chose to apply per X use and limitations on all classes in an attempt to downplay the effect this very limitation as applied to spellcasters was viewed in pre-4E games. Basically one of my major gripes with the 4E system is that WotC took the two major problems with Vancian magic (which historically only applied to arcane spellcasters like the magic-user and sorcerer) and applied it to the skills and powers of all classes in some misguided effort to balance the game experience equation. I realize that if you’re creating a tactical simulation that might be exactly what you need to do to balance the classes, but I think that’s the wrong way to go in a rpg.

I also tend to think opposition to changing the magic paradigm in D&D is due to fear. I hope to address those fears and demonstrate how they can be assuaged. But for now, let’s assume that when we’re done with this exercise, we’re going to end up with a magic system that doesn’t look much like the Vancian-inspired one in D&D, embrace what feels right about whatever system or mechanic choice we make, and just see where it leads us.

What’s wrong with what we have?

To get the ball rolling, let’s explore the four main reasons I hate the Vancian take on magic as it is portrayed and mechanically described by the rules in all versions of D&D. Let’s look at what each of these issues brings to (or removes from) the gaming table. As I pointed out earlier, WotC decided to apply some of the limitations described here to all the classes in 4E, so you can imagine how much the entire game irks me. Your list may be entirely different (or non-existent for that matter) but this is mine:

1. The idea that spellcasters must memorize each and every spell each and every day (and after each and every cast) just to remember the specific magical formulas that they’re so versed in is about as un-magical in its application as I can imagine. Any attempt by the proponents of this type of system to defend it usually leads to discussions on how the formula becomes magically etched in the caster’s brain and “erases” itself in the casting. Never you mind that a magic-user can memorize the same spell a number of times and cast it equally well until all those specific memorizations are expended… here the magic-user sounds more like a magical firearm or battery than anything else. Also, it begs the question as to the believability of this reasoning by leading to discussions where a magic-user memorizes a spell, rests for one hour and has to re-memorize that spell because it was lost.
2. Limiting the number of spells a magic-user can cast per day makes Vancian magic virtually unplayable at lower levels and ridiculously gimped at upper levels. I won’t really get into the whole reason that magic-users were given the crossbow as a weapon in 3E. It is obvious to me that it was an attempt to hide the flaw in spell limitations that was so present in the system due to the Vancian system.
3. Vancian magic leads to choices – which are good in games. But did it lead to interesting choices? Often? The choices a magic-user has under a Vancian system is a lot like trying to guess what would be most appropriate stock to pick for the future. While some may think this is great because it leads to interesting situations, it is a very illogical and artificial ruling. I would prefer to move the interesting choice to a different facet of spell selection and make the choice more meaningful and less guesswork.
4. One of the most often ignored parts of the D&D magic system has been the time it takes to memorize and pray for spells. In addition to the (I think it was 15 minutes per level of spell to be memorized), in later editions there was a requirement for 8 hours of rest prior to memorization just to prepare the mind for said memorization… Really? Wow, magic-users must really suck at harnessing magic, because that’s just lame. Result? Ignore the rule. End result, rules that aren’t played. Remembering our mantra, rules that are ignored or hand-waved (like weapons speeds and weapon versus AC modifiers) because they’re not playable should be removed… post haste.

In addition to the above list of Vancian wrongs, I’ll add a few other things to my list of changes we should address. These changes will come out of a desire to follow the reduction methodology to our new rules. Like time requirements for memorization highlighted above, if a rule is ignored by the majority of the gaming populace, then it should be removed. Two main features of spells that are routinely ignored are:

• Spell casting times
• Components

Both casting times and components are intriguing ideas, and while I may personally like the idea of both in limited form for a handful of spells, it is my belief that both are ignored by most players in nearly all occasions. Because of my opinion that rules ignored should be rules eliminated, casting time and components should be removed for nearly every spell. I’ll let DMs make exceptions to this decision, but in our new system, these two facets of spells will be removed.

Furethermore, in the list of things to be removed, a spell comes to mind as well:

• Read Magic as a spell.

Read magic as a spell requried to be known in order to read and understand magic (which is the life study of magic-users) is absurd at best. I know few who actually play the requirement of this spell. Again, since my process indicates that items ignored should be eliminated, this spell must go.

Wow, according to me, there’s a lot wrong with the mechanics of magic. Redesigning them and capturing a real magic feel will be a challenge. But let’s not shrink from the challenge. We have options, options aplenty! Let’s take a look at a radically different way of doing this stuff and see if perhaps there’s a happy medium that will allow arcane spellcasters to shine without stealing the spotlight.

But how to change it?

What if magic-users were like unlearned supers who had the potential to have access to every spell no matter the level and were capable of learning and therefore casting any level of spell they have studied? All spells would be available to the caster at any moment (since we’d presume they remember it) and could be cast repeatedly and with impunity, therefore eliminating some of the perils of Vancian Magic. I see this a lot like a version of magic in most supers games and also much like magic in the Harry Potterverse.

For example, a 2nd level magic-user is adventuring in a tomb with her comrades. She has already learned the following spells:

• Level 0:
  • Disrupt Undead
  • Light
  • Outburst
• Level 1:
  • Detect Secret Doors
  • Magic Missile
• Level 2:
  • See Invisibility

At any time during the game, the player can choose any of these spells for her magic-user to cast since she has studied and knows them. She needn’t guess at what will be useful since she need not prepare spells. During their adventure, the magic-user finds a tome with an arcane spell. Over the course of time (determined by the DM) she studies the text and learns a new 3rd level spell: Vampiric Touch. After study and memorization she adds this spell to her repetoire. Now she can cast this spell at any time, just as she could any of those previously listed.

Note that in this new paradigm, the magic-user has access to spells outside her previously described capability in all prior versions of D&D. She can cast spells above what she would have historically been granted by the spell progression charts. In fact, under this new methodology, she can repeatedly cast a spell that is considered above her class level. (If she had discovered and learned a 7th level spell, she would have access to the spell as well.) That’s perfectly ok, spell progression charts were an atrificial construct to prevent fears we will address later. If we look across the class isle at the fighter, we don’t see an artificially imposed restriction on the use of magical swords. (Except in the new daily/encounter use powers of some magical items in 4E, but we’re eliminating the Vancian paradigm here and remember that we’re ignoring 4E in this process so we can assume it doesn’t actually exist.) So why should we apply this construct to the arcane classes?

Also, in this new way of seeing magic, spells would still need to be learned and discovered, but once so, what if they were permanently etched in the mind of the mage? That sounds more likely, again if we glance across the isle, it’s not as if fighters need to break out a manual every morning to recall how to swing a sword. So why artificially force the arcane classes to do so? Fear. Fear that the class will break balance and fail to meet the Interesting Choice tennant.

If this has you thinking that it sounds a lot like I’m advocating for the removal of the magic-user in preference to a sorcer style class that need not prepare spells before casting them, you’re partially right. I’ll address the full implications on the sorcerer class in the heading But What about the Sorcerer.

The First Fear

What’s our fear? Are we afraid that the game will become some representation of Dungeon Siege or Diablo in which spellcasters only work their way up some spell tree to the next best spell and are rarely ever required to make an interesting choice to “step it down a notch” in their selection?

Aren’t most fighters really played this way? Sir Slash the Hackmaster gets his hands on that coveted +4 sword and you’ll probably never see him choose a different weapon if he can help it… at least not until he discovers a +5 version. Why assume spellcasters would be any different? What’s more, why write rules to force them to be? This shouldn’t be part of the rules. Rather, let the scenario and situation described by the DM give them reasons to do otherwise, don’t force it in the mechanics. If you want Sir Slash to use his bow, you (the DM) create the opportunity for him to select a different weapon. You don’t artificially state that, according to the rules, Slash can swing a sword X number of times before he must change to his bow for Y attacks. And what’s more, Slash’s player must decide beforehand, while preparing for the day’s adventure, out of N possible total attacks with X+Y=N, what values of X and Y will be chosen… absurd? Very.

So assuming once again that we’re going to end up with something unlike the current system, let’s agree to embrace what feels right about the logic of the Diablo-esque/Dungeon Siege spell selection mechanic and give arcane classes free reign to all the spells at their disposal… at any time. Now that arcane spellcasters are allowed to cast any spell they know at any time they feel it appropriate, doesn’t that feel more natural in the setting? Mages aren’t just dangerous for their capacity to wield arcane might, but for the possible depth within which they’ve studied the arcane itself. With this single decision we’ve unfettered the magic system and addressed issues #1, #2, and #4 and added more interest to the class.

Consider now the magic-user player who suddenly has a legitimate reason and desire to seek out, learn and study ancient lore for a glimpse into that new and unknown bit of magic. Consider their glee in finding a new spell to devour and harness. This is the stuff of real wizards, not the hour and a half spent every morning re-memorizing the formula that they memorized just yesterday. We’ve just added depth to the character, that’s a good thing.

But somewhere there’s a niggling fear that we’ve created a monster of a class without any real interesting options. Let’s examine those fears.

Fear, Take Two

What’s our next fear? Mages will become the nuke of every encounter and just throw fireball after fireball without ever thinking, thus violating  a core tennant, the Interesting Choice rule of a good game, and putting us squarely back with issue #3. Tied to this fear is a newly created issue spawned by our change: The creation of the everyman, a class that can do anything as good as, or better than, any other class and is therefore the only real class choice to make. (This is another violation of the Interesting Choice tennant in disguise.) Now there are a couple of valid fears that I could see arising from our removal of the “spells per day, spell progression, and spells known” mechanics. But before we scrap the idea as broken, let’s not run from the concept, rather let’s see if there’s anything we can use either already in the game, or perhaps from outside to address it.

Preventing Lather, Rinse, Repeat

Readers of this blog will note that my family and I play a MMO game called Wizard101. Wizard101 has a mechanic to prevent every spell cast from boringly working every time and therefore being the only spell of choice in a duel. This mechanic is called Fizzle. For the record, my wizard Kevin FireForge has the mantle of King of Fizzle because his spells fail often. Fizzle rates for spells are based on the type, cost to cast, result, and school and range from 90% to 0% depending.

For those of you coming to this discussion from the D&D side of the hobby, think of Fizzle as an over-arching Spell Failure rate unaffected by clothing selection. I believe arcane spell failure was introduced in 2E, though it might have been a 3E rule. Prior to the rule, magic-users could not cast spells when wearing armor. The nature of the failure isn’t important to us per se, but once again the core mechanic tends to make me think of the Potterverse where performing a spell wrong (usually) simply makes nothing happen. Some spells are more difficult to cast (and therefore have a higher fizzle rate) and some are easy to master (and have little or no fizzle rate.)

I propose we take this Fizzle idea, rename it Spell Failure to make it simple to comprehend for legacy D&D players, and graft it onto our new idea of magic. Since spells conveniently range in level from 0 to 9, let’s take advantage of some really nifty and easy math and codify the idea by saying that spells have a failure percentage rate equal to their level times 5. Cantrips (level 0 spells) succeed 100% of the time unless opposed by some factor while the really big guns of magic need proper care in casting and a bit of luck to fire. So, for instance, a level 3 spell has a spell failure rate of 15%; it will be successfully cast 85% of the time while a level 9 spell has little better than a 50/50 chance of being cast properly.

Some of you may now be wondering if I’ll be removing Arcane Spell Failure rules for magic-users casting spells in armor. Keep reading, that’s part of the Everyman fear. I’ll address it under the heading Wizards in Plate.

How does this address issue #3? Well, in this way, at least in combat, a tactically interesting situation for spell casters would be seen every round in the form of a choice of “throwing a big nuke” that has a good chance of failure (and therefore being a dud) or performing a lesser bit of arcane lore that, though less impressive, is also more likely succeed. If ninth level spells are just a bit over a coin toss to succeed before the rest of the spell mechanics fall into play, then we no longer need fear that the magic-user will simply be the fireball Gatling Gun of the party. Instead the magic-user takes its place as the iconic, arcane, Swiss army knife they should be.

Perhaps magic items would arise that aid the successful casting of spells. I envision something like:

The Artful Wand (minor magic item)
Grants: Improved Spellcasting conferring a 2% reduction in Spell Failure when casting arcane spells.

And what of factors against spellcasting? How about a new spell?

Bumbler’s Curse
Effect: Debilitated Spellcasting. 1% per level reduction to spell casting success for target for 1 hour per level.

Or a new feat to raise our magic-user’s chances of being successful?

Precise Motions
Effect: Raises the successful casting percentage of all spells by 5%

Or a new magic-hindering trap:

Dampened Magic Zone
Effect: All spells have double their failure rate in the area of effect.

The Everyman Fear

The next fear we should address is this fear that the magic-user will essentially become an everyman, jack of all trades, and eventually outshine all the other classes. Since their magic could do anything significantly class-oriented, this fear is, on the surface, a valid one. (Some may claim that this situation already exists, but let’s address it none-the-less.) However, considering that each spell requires a percentile roll to even be successfully cast, then another roll at times to hit, likely a saving throw in there too and you’ve got the makings for a less assured comparison.

A fighter has to roll to hit, then damage, while a magic-user has to roll to succeed in casting, roll to hit, then roll damage which can be (partially or completely) negated by a saving throw. From this simplistic analysis we see that a fighter is a better “over the course of a fight” damage dealer than the spellcaster since factors such as “to hit” rolls in conjunction with spell failure make the spellcaster less likely to successfully perform the big, damage-dealing spells often. The magic-user can dish out some damage, but for assured damage dealing, a fighter is the go-to guy.

But what of those spells that lie outside of combat and therefore could be rolled repeatedly until success is guaranteed? This situation could be said of the rogue and its ability to hide, backstab, open locks, remove traps, etc. But if the fear is too great for the less combat tangible situations, simply make sure that equal level classes never get out-shined by the magic of the spellcaster. (i.e. make sure that find traps has a slightly less effective rate of success than that of an average rogue.) In this light the spellcaster would be the go-to guy when the rogue is incapacitated, but not the go-to guy when the rogue is available.

In this new analysis, the magic-user becomes at worst a lesser everyman, which is arguably where the class started before we began. Since we’ve done nothing to increase this issue, I think the fear should be assuaged.

Wizards in plate

In order to deal with our co-opting of spell failure and the concerns that a high level magic-user will essentially outshine any other class, we should consider that allowing the arcane spellcaster access to armor wasn’t a good design choice. As a result, wizards will suffer complete spell failure when in armor exceeding the protection of clothing. This is a good design decision in that it removes many smaller rules (armor percentages for spell failure) for one single rule.

This is also a good idea since this places the magic-user (with lower HP and defense) back in a position of vulnerability from a physical standpoint, and therefore less likely to take the lead Everyman role. For those interested in class niche-protection, this ruling prevents the magic-user from taking on the role of a magical warrior or a secondary cleric. If the magic-user can wear no armor, they are once again balanced defensively against their formidable offensive capabilities. As a result, the re-inclusion of this rule adds more interest to the game than its removal brought.

• Does this mean that magic-users can’t wear armor and use a shield? Absolutely not.
• Does this mean that magic-users can’t cast spells successfully in armor or while carrying a shield? Absolutely!

Let’s examine the logic behind this idea. Assuming that all forms of armor are constrictive in nature of movement (and I can’t think of a single type that isn’t), this restriction makes perfect sense. Harnessing arcane energies in formulaic somatic methods requires precision that must be matched perfectly. Armor restricts precision. Therefore, if hindrances such as binding hands causes spells to be un-castable, then by simple analogy, why should restrictive armor not do the same?

But what about Sorcerers?

Our final hurdle is the inclusion of the Sorcerer in D&D. Historically the magic-user was the arcane spellcaster and was epitomized as the scholarly student of the arcane. However, with the inclusion of Dark Sun, a new arcane class emerged, epitomized by a charismatic wielder of innate magics; the sorcerer. As described in 3E, in terms of general mechanics, sorcerers don’t need to learn spells. As masters of arcane magic, their magical ability is innate rather than studied.

Unlike the current magic-user, and more like our propsed magic-user, sorcerers need not prepare spells. However, if we apply our freedom to select any spell known to the innate abilities of the sorcerer, we find ourselves in a quandry. How can we avoid this new everyman issue of the sorcerer having unfetterd access to all the spells?

Personally I’d prefer to roll back and eliminate the Sorcerer altogether and fold the class back into the magic-user. However, I realize that many would contend that the class is now iconic to the game and removing it a bridge too far. Well, we just removed Vancian magic from D&D, present since the Basic Edition, so the removal of the sorcerer shouldn’t be much more than an afterthought.

However, let’s assume you don’t want to remove the sorcerer but instead want to remove Vancian magic. How can we mesh the two concepts?

While the sorcerer may at first appear to be a major roadblock to our new concept of any magical spell learned being available to a spellcaster. The solution isn’t as drastic as you might think. We simply change the spells available for a Sorcerer to cast as a list containing any spell of their level and below. Put another way, a sorcerer’s available spell list is the same as all the arcane spells of spell level equal to their class level and below. The drawback of a sorcerer is that they do not learn spells and therefore cannot cast spells above their levels. Since their magic is innate they don’t gain the benefit of learning spells.

Let’s sum up the changes proposed:

I know this has become quite a long article, but I wanted to make sure to address the issues I’ve raised thoroughly and fairly. Magic is an integral part of the game and over the years I’ve come to believe that it’s been done wrong since the beginning and adhered to in spite of the shortcomings because of fear. I feel that with the changes mentioned, magic would once again give the game that elusive magical quality it has been missing while avoiding the pitfalls of the current system.

• Magic-users can cast any spell they’ve studied without the need to prepare.
• Spells have an innate failure rate equal to Spell Level x 5% that determines if the caster performed the incantation correctly.
• Armor causes arcane spells to fail to be cast.
• Sorcerers, if they’re still present, have access to any arcane spell so long as the spell level is not above their class level.

Sounds more like magic to me. Think I’m crazy? Then chime in and tell me where I’ve taken the left at Albuquerque.

With our Fall 2010 Convergence on the horizon and my general thoughts about gaming ambience, I’ve got a few questions.

• What is the best location/environment you have role-played in?
• The worst one?
• Which is the most familiar to you and your groups? What features make it a comfortable place to play?
• And finally, if you could pick a place to play, where and why? Would you take your group with you for a role-playing game event there if you had the means?

The best location I’ve played in to-date was the Mount Evans Field Station during our Spring 2010 Convergence. Getting into the location at the time as a pain but it was remote and beautiful. A large fireplace in the center room we could kick back around or toss up an actual table if needed. No distractions. None. Phones didn’t work. It was just our group gaming at will unless people needed to venture out to make contact.

Worst location is hard to pinpoint for me. I hate being cramped and crammed around a small table. I’d have to say Chris T.’s session at his tiny table during the college years with his 114 rules about behaviour in his domicile has to rate up there. Certainly it was not horrific but it didn’t inspire me to stay on top of the game.

Most familiar. Hands down, it is an object not a location. The Alley Table takes the cake. Randall and I found it in the alley. It was perfect when we saw it. Someone dinged it up before we got back to moving it into his living room. I believe the table lived through three different moves. It had ‘artwork’ on it around the dings and dents. We played around that table for hundreds of hours.

At the top of my wish list would be to actually play in a castle. Not a modern recreation but an actual historical site. It will likely never happen but I’d load up the entire crew for that trip.

What are your thoughts?

Strangely enough, Kevin posted his rant about the changing face of D&D today. My thoughts of late have been about the modern, mixed media available for the modern gamer. Not the games themselves but the utilities available. Personally, I consider technology a tool to be used when appropriate. I have never truly used a computer as an aid but many people have in a variety of ways — PDFs, dice rollers, mapping devices, etc.

I do not find a computer a necessary tool but the climate of computation has changed. More computational power is available on my phone than was available on my desk when I began gaming. Even more important is that a generation of gamers are now playing with that power as the norm, not the exception. Rob Conley over at Bat in the Attic listed a number of open software utilities available. Most of them I have used or use daily but not for gaming. A number the comments by his readers confirmed that gamers in general use many applications for game preparation.

How many of you are using electronic devices at the table? And for what reasons? If you do, are you using network-centric resources or standalone applications? For example, if you not able to access the Internet, would that hinder you? Does the aid require internet access? If so, could you game without it present?

I think the majority of people like the physical feel of the dice in our hands. I’d also wager we are more paper oriented when at the table than many others. The physical book to me is far more useful than a PDF on screen. I could be wrong.

Someone speculated the end of the DM screen as an entity. I failed to read the post when I saw the it (if you know the link, please add it to the comments) but I think it as a utility is dead. While I have used one in the past, I did so mostly for quick reference not for hiding dice rolls. When I’m game mastering, if I feel the need to fudge a roll, I choose just not to roll the dice. I make a decision and move on. My belief is the DM screen’s functionality is encapsulated elsewhere along with much more functionality in an electronic format. Yet, I would not choose a phone or computer over the screen.

This is another of my rails against the nature of where RPGs seem to be headed in my opinion. So if you’re not interested in reading my rant and joining in on what my horoscope says should be a lively discussion and debate, then move along, nothing to see here.

There’s been a lot of talk of late about the new Magic Item Rarity re-do by WotC and I wanted to voice my opinion too.

Let me point out first that I’m prepared for the possibility of being called a hater here. We all have our own opinions on what’s good for the hobby. I’m sure most of my beliefs are not mainstream, but perhaps there’s a hint of truth in them for everyone. Examine them closely and you may just find that I’m not as radical as you might first believe. And I have been known to laud as well as incorporate some of things some video games do right in my own RPG ruleset, so I realize that this may seem a bit hypercritical as well as hypocritical.*

But some things have been bothering me since the days of 2E. The seeds of my complaints go back a number of years and I’ve been moderately vocal about those things with my circle of friends, but the nature of the new Magic Item Rarity categorization article brought them to a head and I’m finally going to express them to the RPG public.

Furthermore, I completely understand that WotC has an obligation to their corporate interests to sell the most product and generate the highest revenue. Their motivations cannot always fall in line with what I might consider a better track for the hobby. But that doesn’t excuse them from being the target of one of my rants from time to time.

I should also point out that I left this topic alone for a while as I considered what really bugged me about the article, and after authoring this I left it un-posted for some time while I readdressed it. I think the time has come to say my peace.

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