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.

Tags: D&D, Dungeons and Dragons, Magic, redesigning D&D, rpg, spell

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.

Tags: D&D, Diablo, Dungeons and Dragons, Dungeonsiege, Magic, redesigning D&D, rpg, spell, wizard101

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.

Read the rest of this entry »

Tags: Annoyances, Crpg, D&D, Dungeons and Dragons, Game Design, Gary and Dave wouldn't buy your game, House Rules, Imagination is dead, mechanics are golden but ignoring them is platinum, Optional Rules, rpg, rpg rules

The cultist grabbed a handful of the strange yellow-gray dust and cast it into the air above the body of Sir Reginold of Larksley. To the horror of those still in the right frame of mind, the body immediately decomposed into a pile of greenish bones and a purplish stain. As the wave of a nauseatingly lurid stench befitting weeks of decay assailed his nostrils, Baxter fought to control the contents of his stomach.

Decompose* (reversible as Gentle Repose in D&D)

KORE

Spell: Decompose (X) – This spell immediately decomposes the remains of a dead creature or erodes an inanimate object.

Dungeons and Dragons (D&D d20 SRD Format)

Necromancy
Level: Clr 2, Sor/Wiz 3
Components: V, S, M
Casting time: 1 standard action
Range: Touch
Target: Corpse touched
Duration: One day/level
Saving Throw: Will negates (object)
Spell Resistance: Yes (object)

You decompose the remains of a dead creature so that they immediately decay. The spell also works on severed body parts and the like.

Arcane Material Component: A handful of dust.

Call of Cthulhu (CoC)

Voodoo Spell – By throwing specially prepared ash or dust (most likely a reference to Goofer Dust) into the wind, or allowing a handful to pass through one’s hand and reciting the passage in Genesis 3:19, “In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread, till thou return unto the ground; for out of it wast thou taken: for dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return,” the caster immediately decays a single corpse or severed body part. Casting this spell costs 2 MP and 1d4 sanity points. Witnessing the effect of this spell costs 1d2 sanity point.

Tags: Call of Cthulhu, D&D, Dungeons and Dragons, KORE rpg, reversible, rpg, spell, voodoo

As the zombie shambled about the grounds below the tower, Thomas realized the divine power his goddess had granted could save them again. Summoning his faith he strode to the bottom level of the turret, preparing to step into harm’s way. His faith rewarded, time would be his minion once again. Soon the zombie would know the oblivion of dust once more.

Hasted Decomposition* (reversible as Slow Decay)

KORE

Spell: Hasted Decomposition (X) – This spell accelerates the speed at which the remains of a dead creature decays or an inanimate object is eroded.

Dungeons and Dragons (D&D d20 SRD Format)

Necromancy
Level: Clr 1, Sor/Wiz 2
Components: V, S, M
Casting Time: 1 standard action
Range: Touch
Target: Corpse touched
Duration: One day/level
Saving Throw: Will negates (object)
Spell Resistance: Yes (object)

You accelerate decomposition on the remains of a dead creature so that they decay at a multiple of the normal rate. Doing so effectively decreases the time limit on raising that creature from the dead (see raise dead). Days spent under the influence of this spell count as multiples against the time limit.
The spell also works on severed body parts and the like.

The multiple of the normal decay rate is equivalent to the level of the spell caster. (i.e. At 5th level, a corpse decays at 5 times the normal rate.)

Arcane Material Component: A small bit of ash or dust passed through one’s hands.

Call of Cthulhu (CoC)

Voodoo Spell – By throwing specially prepared ash or dust (most likely a reference to Goofer Dust) into the wind, or allowing a handful to pass through one’s hand and reciting the ancient phrase, “Ashes to ashes, dust to dust,” the caster accelerates the decay rate of a single corpse or severed body part. Casting this spell costs 1 MP and 1d2 sanity points. Witnessing the effect of this spell costs 1 sanity point.

Tags: Call of Cthulhu, D&D, Dungeons and Dragons, KORE rpg, reversible, rpg, spell, voodoo

Thomas knew the body of his companion would never survive the four day journey across the Fiery Ash-Sands of Sul. What’s more, the smell of decay would surely bring unwanted visitors into camp. He had little choice however. The terms of the pact were clear; leave one behind and all would suffer death before the moon goddess hid her face. Everyone’s eyes were upon him. Thomas knew he was the party’s only hope. Quietly he removed his helm and bowed in prayer. In short order he knew his faith was to be rewarded.

Slow Decay* (reversible as Hasted Decomposition)

KORE

Spell: Slow Decay (X) – This spell preserves the remains of a dead creature or inanimate object so that it is less affected by the ravages of time and decays far slower than normal.

Dungeons and Dragons (D&D d20 SRD Format)

Necromancy
Level: Clr 1, Sor/Wiz 2
Components: V, S, M
Casting Time: 1 standard action
Range: Touch
Target: Corpse touched
Duration: One day/level
Saving Throw: Will negates (object)
Spell Resistance: Yes (object)

You preserve the remains of a dead creature so that they decay at a fraction of the normal rate. Doing so effectively extends the time limit on raising that creature from the dead (see raise dead). Days spent under the influence of this spell don’t count against the time limit. Additionally, this spell makes transporting a fallen comrade more pleasant.
The spell also works on severed body parts and the like.

The fraction of the normal decay rate is equivalent to the level of the spell caster. (i.e. At 5th level, a corpse decays at 1/5th the normal rate.)

Arcane Material Component: A small bit of sandy dirt passed through one’s hands.

Tags: D&D, Dungeons and Dragons, KORE rpg, reversible, rpg, rules, spell

There’s been a lot of horror on this blog of late and I thought it time to counter the terrors with some comedy. In that light I submit a list made to make you laugh.

Disclaimer: This post made of 100% Total tongue in cheek. I am not, I repeat NOT, trying to annoy anyone with this post. I’m just having fun.

If you want to have fun with me today on this, after I get the ball rolling, feel free to jump in. Remember though, only a sentence and this is a family-friendly site.

B/X Dungeons & Dragons:
Kill them and take their stuff for nerds, geeks and dweebs version 1.0.

Advanced Dungeons & Dragons:
Advanced kill them and take their stuff because nerds, geeks and dweebs like a lot of rules.

2E Advanced Dungeons & Dragons:
TSR takes your stuff while killing your back as you lug all those sourcebooks to the game because apparently you’ll just keep buying anything they publish.

3E and 3.5E Dungeons & Dragons:
Killing them and taking their stuff in a crunchy, training wheels applied setting where obstacles are now challenge-rated for your safety.

4E Dungeons & Dragons:
I already labeled this one. Though I caught a lot of flack for it, I still stand by my opinion. Only now I’d add “with training wheels.”

Rifts:
Now that’s some crazy messed up $#&!

Warhammer:
Pffh, Rifts ain’t that crazy… now this is crazy done with style!

Travellar:
Where else can your character die before playing the game?

Call of Cthulhu:
Avoiding death while going hopelessly insane… for fun.

Delta Green:
Avoiding death while going hopelessly insane; the Will Smith / Tommy Lee Jones version.

Cyberpunk:
The uncool trying to avoid death with style while going hopelessly, and inhumanly chrome.

Top Secret:
All the cool spy stuff minus Bond equals meh.

James Bond 007:
You might be In Her Majesty’s Secret Service, but you’re no Bond and she’s not that easy.

Star Wars:
Because every guy wants to be Han and wants every girl to dress like Leia in a metal bikini.

X-Files:
Because every guy secretly wants to punch Mulder in the nose and return to the pilot where Dana takes her shirt… oh yea, family friendly.

Shadowrun:
Move your books, I need more room on the table for the dice.

Paranoia:
Because TPK shouldn’t just be a tool of the GM.

Vampire: The Masquerade:
Your girlfriend’s attempt to get you to game in the angst-laden, Gothic-inspired world of Anne Rice, only you’re still not Brad Pitt.

Werewolf: The Apocalypse:
Furries for those who want to include the angst of playing in a Gothic-inspired Anne Rice novel of Vampire: The Masquerade.

Mage: The Ascension:
Because your DM thinks Conan could kick Gandalf’s ass and he so totally won’t listen to reason… now with Gothic angsty elements to lure in the chicks!

Boot Hill:
Gaming in the romantic old west with nothing remotely romantic or western to weigh you down.

DC Heroes and Marvel Superheroes:
Because who wouldn’t want to re-live their childhood fantasies without the stigma of your friends seeing you running around in your underpants with a bedspread as a cape?

Earthdawn:
Post-apocalyptic D&D for those too lazy to create their own post-apoc setting with D&D rules.

GangBusters:
Because playing a mobster in the 80′s would lead to some jerk wanting to play a Yakuza.

Ravenloft:
The horror that results in blending the Gothic-inspired realms and tropes of an Anne Rice novel with the kill them and take their stuff mechanics and settings of D&D trying to pass itself off as horror in a module-turned-campaign setting attempt to bilk you out of more money in classic 2E AD&D fashion.

That’s a mouthful, but it’s still a single sentence – KO

Al-Qadim:
Let’s pretend you’re Alladin and I’m an all-powerful genie helping you save the kingdom from an evil sorcerer.

Spelljammer:
Because these Sci Fi games are cutting into TSR’s bottom line and they’ve proven you’ll buy anything they publish.

Dark Sun:
Because even Evil DMs need some help coming up with new and unique ways to TPK.*

Yep, I just used TPK as a verb. Deal with it or I’ll make some rocks fall. – KO

Exalted:
Seriously, stop trying to fool us and just admit that you bought it for the cover art!

Panty Explosion:
’nuff said.

Tags: Al-Qadim, Boot Hill, Call of Cthulhu, Cyberpunk, Dark Sun, DC Heroes, Delta Green, Dungeons and Dragons, Earthdawn, Exalted, game systems, GangBusters, James Bond, Mage, Marvel Superheroes, Paranoia, Ravenloft, Review, Rifts, rpg, Shadowrun, Spelljammer, Top Secret, Travellar, Vampire, Warhammer, Werewolf

Next up in our Trilogy of Terror is the spell Terrain of Terror… fear for your sanity as your worst nightmares are made manifest!

“The spell is an outrage! An abomination!” yelled Kalek as he slammed his fist on the table. “I refuse to teach it to you or to anyone. Perhaps its knowledge will die with me. We can hope.”

I was silent before him for a time. My Master was known for these outbursts, but this was far from ordinary. After a time he let out a long sigh.

“You still don’t understand do you?” He asked. “The magic doesn’t just make the area look like something different, it makes it different. How can I explain it to you?”

“Perhaps if you were to show me…” I began.

“Are you deaf boy?” He screamed. “I shall do nothing of the sort! The magic won’t kill you. It’ll do worse than that.”

“Perhaps if you were to show me…” I repeated and hastily raised a hand to inticate that he should hear me out. “If you were to show me through the eyes of one who has used cast it.”

At this I pointed to the three skulls on his top shelf. My Master’s Master and his Master Before him. And what I always believed to be either a trophy skull, a failed experiment, an artifact, or perhaps that of a familliar.

Kalek considered it for a moment. I knew immediately that the ingeneousness of my solution had won the argument. I also knew that if I focused my memory hard enough I would possibly remember the spell. I suspected that my Master didn’t know that I was able to adjsut the timeframe of the memories. Quietly he retrieved the misshapen skull and pressed it into my hands.

“This was the first Master,” he began. “The Demon-Child of the Lady of Shadows and the Great Dread Lord of the Pits of Sorrow. Before he was struck down by the gods for imparting this forbidden lore upon mankind, He taught my Master’s Master what I shall show you now.”

Reverently my Master placed the skull back and brought forth that of his Master’s Master. He spoke the words, commanded that the spirits come forth and counseled with them for a time. In my impatience I amused myself with torturing a small imp I had summoned many days ago. The creature glared balefully at me, but I cared little. I was about to learn the greatest secret known to my Master. Then I wuold kill him as I would this imp.

My Master returned and placed the skull in my hands. It was warm and heavy and hummed with silent power. I closed my eyes and drank of the memories. Ageless and sweet like honeyed meade they tasted. But hinted with the bitterness of revenge and fear.

The visions that swam before my eyes were strange and murky at first and I knew in an isntant that this was a memory most ancient indeed. In the vision I watched as the Demon-Child Master instructed this memory in the requirements of the magic. I silently witnessed the motions, heard on the winds the arcane words of power and felt the very Universe lurch and heave as if being torn asunder. Whether I retched or simply remembered it via proxy I cannot say.

All about me screams of torment and fear pierced the skies of this memory. I peered at my friends… err the friends of this memory…

Toblek the Mighty was curled on the floor in torment. He clutched his helmet tighter and tighter to his head. Blood seeped from within.

Catara the Mistress of the Dark screamed as she plunged her needle-like daggers into her own eyes repeatedly. But it was apparent from her reactions taht she still witness something hideous before her.

The Dwarven Brothers Gil’Tara and Del’Gara repeatedly struck each other with their mgiht hammers. Both bore a look of fear and horror and hatred that proved they did not recognize the other. Each was berserk beyond reason, both would be dead soon.

Slowly, almost imperceptively at first, the vision before me changed. The skies melted away and the floor became a writing mass of leeches. I screamed… No! The memory screamed. The memory needed to flee, needed to run! The terror had come, it had seeped into this world! Where would we hide? We must die!

For a moment the vision returned to the previous memory. The Demon-Child held the memories hands tight and spoke soothing words of encouragement.

“It was the magic,” he said. “Only the magic. But be warned no mere illusion is this.”

“Master?” The memory asked.

“The change is real. Summoned from your deepest fears. Each who witnesses the magic finds their nightmares made manifest. I show you this knowledge and sustain you as a boon. Now I command that you teach it to men that they shall see the glory of the one you call Lord of Nightmares.”

The vision began to change again, swirling fast and growing. This vision was no longer merely a vision. The terror had come, bridged the gap of memory.

The imp prodded and tortured me as it began to evicerate me. Unwilling to let me die it kept me alive through dark magics.

“What shall we do to you today?” It asked as it fingered a strange wicked instrument. “Perhaps we should remove your skin.”

My screams echoed into the void as flesh was exposed…

Kalek watched his young apprentice recoil in horror and scream as the magic, so strong that it crossed even the barrier of memory, altered the boy’s reality. What horrors this apprentice was experiencing he could only shudder to consider. Like all those before him who witnessed the spell, this boy would need to be destroyed. Kalek turned away in horror.

From the darkness the Demon-Child emerged and glanced about curiously. “Why did the magic not affect you my pet?” He asked.

“Because,” Kalek struggled to find the words. A sudden knock on the door made him jump and brought him back from the brink. Before moving to the door he spoke a deadly incantation and his apprentice disappeared in a flash of sulferous smoke. The smell of burnt pork filled the workshop.

Kalek stepped to the door and began to open it. He hesitated briefly as he turned and addressed the darkness in the corner. “Because it did my Master. This is my worst fear.” He said as he greeted his eager new apprentice.

Terrain of Terror

KORE

Terrain of Terror (X) – Upon completing this incantation, the caster alters the reality of everyone present including themselves. The deepest fears of those who witness the spell are made manifest. These fears are no simple illusions, they are reality for the witnesses. How reality can be forced to manifest in so strange a way is as baffling as how the spell makes it possible for reality to be so different in a relatively small area.

Dungeons & Dragons (D&D d20 SRD Format)

Transmutation
Level: Sor/Wiz 9, Chaos 9
Components: V,S
Casting Time: 10 minutes
Range: Long (400 ft. + 40 ft./level)
Area: 60-ft.-radius sphere centered on the caster
Duration: Permanent
Saving Throw: None
Spell Resistance: Yes

Terrain of Terror is a terrible spell usually offered by creatures of chaos as a means of torturing victims. This spell alters the reality of everyone in the area of effect. The deepest fears of those who witness the spell are made manifest. These fears are no simple illusions, they are reality for the witnesses. How reality can be forced to manifest in so strange a way is as baffling as how the spell makes it possible for reality to be so different in a relatively small area.

Call of Cthulhu

Alters the reality of everyone in a 60 ft. radius sphere area of effect. The deepest fears of those who witness the spell are made manifest. These fears are no simple illusions, they are reality for the witnesses. How reality can be forced to manifest in so strange a way is as baffling as how the spell makes it possible for reality to be so different in a relatively small area. Casting the spell requires summoning a vision of Nyarlathotep, the Crawling Chaos, to entreat into altering the reality and summoning up the deepest nightmares of those present. Though The Crawling Chaos is always willing to do so, the act requires 5 MP and costs 1d6 sanity to perform. Each round an individual spends in the area of effect they lose 1d3 sanity points and must make an Idea check or remain another round.

d6 Star Wars Force Power

Control, Sense and Alter Power
Control Difficulty: Hard.
Sense Difficulty: Hard.
Alter Difficulty: Target’s Control roll.
Required Powers: Alter Environment, Force Horror, Force Illusion.
Warning: A character who uses this power immediately gains a Dark Side point.
Effect: Causes the target to see his or her environment as their more nightmarish fears. The affected reacts to the nightmare only and will usually attempt to kill themselves to free themselves from the terrors they witness.

I leave you now so that I might prepare the last of our vignettes in today’s Trilogy of Terror!

Tags: Call of Cthulhu, D&D, Dungeons and Dragons, KORE rpg, rpg, rules, spell, Star Wars, Trilogy of Terror

This post is part two of a three part series. This spell Ol’ Cob’s Webs and the creatures it summons inspired by the fictional horror story of the same name. Creature description and statistics to follow in a later post. – KO

This terrible spell is taught from individual to individual as it is was only known to be contained in the spidery work Eruditio de Sodalitas des Occultus Aranea (transliterated as Mysteries of the Secret Society of the Hidden Web.) The original copy of this occult text was burned beyond repair in the Great Fire of London and the last remaining copies of which were known to be destroyed during the Great Chicago Fire though some may lie in the dusty libraries of rare book collectors. The Papacy has declared the work heretical and, though it is considered irretrievable and lost to antiquity by all scholars, has never removed the text from their list of banned books since its inclusion in 1666 at the decree of Pope Alexander VII.

Ol’ Cob’s Webs

KORE

Spell: Ol’ Cob’s Webs (X) – Ol’ Cob’s Webs conjures creatures from the stuff of nightmares to guard an object or objects. These creatures manifest as cobwebs when docile and as spidery hand-like creatures that grasp a thief when defending the object of their task. The creature summoned is immortal, has immense strength, and is nearly immobile once activated. These creatures never act against their summoner but are dispelled if the caster is killed.

Call of Cthulhu (CoC)

By entreating Atlach-Nacha in a ritual of sacrifice where the caster’s own blood and body is offered freely to a thousand invited spiders, creatures of the web are summoned forth to guard an object or objects. These nightmarish creatures manifest as cobwebs when docile and as spidery hand-like creatures that grasp a thief when defending the object of their task. Once grasped, the creature awaits commands from the summoner as to their next course of action. These actions can be one of the following: Release or Feed (Continue to hold may be considered a command but is in fact the result of no command given yet.) Casting Ol’ Cob’s Webs costs the summoner 1 MP and 1 sanity point to perform the ritual and 1d2 sanity points per creature called to guard an object.

Dungeons and Dragons (D&D d20 SRD Format)

Conjuration (Summoning)
Level: Sor/Wiz 3, Spider 2
Components: V, S, F
Casting Time: 1 round
Range: Touch
Effect: 1 object
Duration: Permanent
Saving Throw: None
Spell Resistance: No

The caster focuses on an object to guard and at the completion of the spell it is covered with cobwebs; Ol’ Cob’s Webs. These cobwebs will transform into guardian spider-like hands that grasp and detain anyone trying to touch the guarded object. This spell is a favorite of the Drow who oftentimes will use it to create traps for unwary creatures in the Underdark. Lolth, it is rumored, approves of this use so long as the creature captured is consumed as it is seen to be an extension of spinning a web to catch a meal.

Tags: Call of Cthulhu, D&D, Dungeons and Dragons, KORE rpg, rpg, rules, spell