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

Hide in your homes good citizens! Amphibians are on the loose!

He has the power to create amphibians out of thin air and throw them at his foes!
Frogs to fling!
Salamanders to sling!
Toads to throw!
Newts to toss willy-nilly!
It matters not!

He is El Tirar-Rana, the Frog-Slinger!

Think this is a foe worth laughing at? Think again. This week the heroes of our fair city will find themselves facing a villain so bizarre, so strange, and yet so dangerous that their skills will be surely tested.

Those frogs may be of the poison dart variety!
Those toads may cause warts!
Those salamanders  and newts may slither into outfits and cause hilarity and disaster alike!

And what of those minions? Are they aware of their role in these villainous acts? Or perhaps they too are victims of the terrible power El Tirar-Rana possesses.

How will the paragons of justice who protect our law-loving citizenry fare against a ne’er-do-well who can enlist the aid of amphibians to do his bidding?

What does this strange villain want? What will end his reign of ampho-terror on our fair city? Only time and confrontation will answer these and other questions… are the heroes ready to face the Frog-Slinger?

Tags: rpg, Villains for Kids

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

Today’s RPG Survivor question is as open-ended as you wish it to be. 

Passes everything but a gas station

The end has come, zombies wander the landscape, demons flood out of the gate to hell, our alien overlords have landed… and you need to get around this apocalyptic wastland. 

Maybe you need to go get someone.
Maybe you need to go get that one thing upon which survival depends.
Or maybe you just need to get to your hold-up of choice. 

Whatever the reason, what choice will you make for choosing to travel the apocalypse in style? 

This pig can fly!

Describe your top three modes of transportation for traversing the apocalyptic landscape. 

Rules are simple and open this time: 

1. Describe up to three means of transportation.
   1. For extra points, explain the merits of your decisions.*
   2. For even more bonus points, describe a few drawbacks of your choices.*
2. Considering that certain settings will have different hazards, take into account terrain and apocalyptic setting in your answers.
3. Think someone has a great answer? Speak up.
4. Oh, and much the images posted here, if the vehicle or mode isn’t real, describe it fully and explain what setting you anticipate it to exist within.

Bring It

*As always, points are for fun purposes only, nothing can be won in this discussion.

Tags: advice, Inspiration, rpg

That’s roleplaying.

Pure and simple that’s exactly what it really is. And that’s all it really is. Roleplaying is an exercise in a shared storytelling mechanic that manifests itself in a moving narrative of “… and what if..?“questions built upon the foundation of all “… and what if ..?” questions that have been accepted before.  Each statement or action is actually a veiled question that builds upon the myriad of questions before. These questions are always assumed to be answered in the positive, and therefore woven into the fabric of the story, unless immediately and directly opposed.

Now some of you may find this descriptor a bit too simple, others may find it overly complex, and still others may look at this analysis and think, “Yeah, so?” but for some reason I find this profound; profound and a bit enlightening. This simple analysis helps us understand why railroading sucks so bad, and why I find myself a bit vindicated in my firm belief that narrative control resides on both sides of the screen. Also it helps to explain why roleplayers are good at quickly analyzing a situation (or series of situations) and coming up with a possible action.

Where we examine how “... and what if..?“  helps us explain why roleplayers are good at quick analysis and action determination.

At their core, roleplaying games are actually still just the children of wargames; and wargames are about simulating a proposed course of action to test its validity or effectiveness. That’s actually the definition of the verb “wargame.” That’s what leads us to the understanding that statements in rpgs aren’t statements; they’re propositions in the shorthand of a statement predicated upon agreed-to hypotheticals posed by others around the table. Essentially, every decision in a rpg is a wargame query to the culminate result of  all prior wargame queries that built the foundation of the current situation.

Where we examine narrative control and where the power exists at the table.

For simplicity matters, let’s examine the example starting point of a roleplaying game exercise:

“Let’s play some D&D.”

When you propose this offer to your friends, what you’re really doing is asking a question. Most can recognize the question, “How about we play some D&D.” But this simple statement and hidden question actually encompasses a body of questions that all players either agree to accept (and play the game) or don’t (and either don’t play a game or counter with another game.) In the fashion of the shared mechanic that is “… and what if..?“, the actual first question consists of:

“Let’s play a game.“

Which is quickly built upon by the assumed follow-up question(s) of:

“… and what if we play a High Fantasy game with ‘basically a shorthand for all the rules and setting and what-not that a given version of D&D encompasses‘?”

These follow-up questions are all contained in the original pseudo-statement and need not be expressed per se. This may seem an overly cumbersome analysis, but its elegance will be displayed shortly.

Each player usually describes their character. In most games this introduction may appear to be without the need for input from others at the table (barring the GM) but in fact each description must pass the “… and what if..?” unspoken approval of all present. Players aren’t simply stating:

“I’ll play a dwarf …”

Rather, questions that build upon all that went before are presented. So the above statement actually hides the question:

“… and what if I play the role of a dwarf ..?”

At which point, so long as no other participant objects, the question is assumed to be accepted as part of the shared narration and the next speaker asks a question in turn like so:

“… and what if I play ..?”

Note that in this type of game analysis, there are no actual statements. Statements simply act as the shorthand for “… and what if..?” In this fashion, even the dice both respond to “… and what if..?” questions while also posing their own queries in return. As a result, we view the results of the dice as presented in this fashion like so:

GM: “The lizard-thing attacks the dwarf…” Rolls dice, interprets result. “… and misses!”

Player: “I attack the lizard-thing!”

Is really shorthand for:

GM: “… and what if the lizard-thing attacks the dwarf?”

Dice (based on result presented): “… and what if the lizard-thing misses?”

Player: “… and what if the dwarf returns the lizard-thing’s attack?”

Where we discover why railroading breaks gaming.

In a previous post, I conjectured that the reason we play games is for a sense of discovery. The end must be unknown for the exercise of getting everyone to play result in a game.  In some small essence, roleplaying games are the height of this discovery because each moment the game could change because of the answer to, or posing of, a single “… and what if..?”

As a result of this analysis, we see that every game offers narrative control to anyone around the table – even inanimate objects are granted narrative control in some form or fashion. This is true of all games, even in those most on rails some narrative control is granted to the players. However, in games completely on rails, if the end result isn’t unknown, the exercise breaks the discovery premise and is no longer considered a game. When the “… and what if..?” questions are dropped for “… and then…” statements, the game is no longer a game but something more closely resembling a story. This isn’t an attack on stories, but stories are not games.

So the next time you worry that you might be offering narrative control to a player, realize that by involving them in the game you’ve already done just that.

I challenge you to examine your own roleplaying games in the light of substituting the “… and then…” statements and replacing them with “… and what if..?” questions they really represent.

“… and what if you discover that you actually enjoy sharing more control of the “what ifs“?”

Tags: advice, Musings, rpg

After doing some searching of the WordPress plugin list, I came to the conclusion that a simple dice roller widget either doesn’t exist, or is hidden from the general public. So, just for fun, I decided to create a WordPress widget that others can add to their blog to roll dice.

My initial basic idea was to have an input box for N, a dropdown for X, a dropdown for +/-, and an input box for M which when rolled (via an input button) would display the result of NdX +/- M using something like mt_rand(N,N*X)+/-M

As with all projects, I decided first on the constraints of the system. Per that I decided on some general rules for the inputs:

• N must be an integer.
• X will be {2,3,4,6,8,10,12,20,30,%}
• M must be an integer.

Understand that I have a very small amout of experience with php coding and no idea how widgets/plugins for WordPress are done, so I knew that this exercise was going to be a learning experience. So after a lot of Google research and downloading a WordPress Widget template that I modified heavily to do something close to what I initially wanted, I’ve gotten the plugin to a “ready for public consumption” state and thought I’d release it for fun.

As an aside, the idea of having the end-user select the inputs will be added at a future date since I need to do some AJAX learning.

However, the plugin, while not exactly what I initially envisioned, isn’t too far off and I’m pleased with the results of just an afternoon of tinkering.

For those running WordPress, download the files here: WordPress Dice Roller

Installation in 2 easy steps:

1. Unzip the archive and place the folder in your plugins directory.
2. Activate it.

Setup in 4 expanded but very simple steps:

1. Navigate to the Widget panel in WordPress
2. Add the Dice widget to your sidebar
3. Modify the settings:
   1. Change the title to anything you want
   2. Enter in the number of dice to roll
      1. If this value is blank or zero, the widget produces no result
      2. This value can actually be a negative number
   3. Use the dropdown to select the die you want to roll
   4. Enter in any modifier
      1. This value can be positive or negative
4. Save

Now each time a user views a page they will generate a new result that will be displayed.

Compatability:

I’m currently running 3.0.1
The plugin doesn’t do anything special, so it should be backward compatable as far as I can ascertain. If you discover that’s incorrect, please comment and correct me.

Future Plans:

• I plan to tie the system into an AJAX result so the blog visitor will be able to select the values of N X and M and generate a result via a simple “Roll it” button.
  • Thanks to the work of a rock star programmer, this is done. Thanks Mark.
• I know I’ll have to add a ReadMe and all that.
  • Edit: Done
• I’ll probably add it to the WordPress plugin Directory at some point.
  • Edit: In the process.
  • This is done. For those who would rather not download something from some random blog, you can get it from WordPress here: http://wordpress.org/extend/plugins/dice-widget/
• I’ll probably add a remove the “display link to korpg.com” option in the future.
  • Yeah, I went ahead and added this. I would like people to leave the link in the widget, but if it were me installing the plugin, I’d want the option to turn it off too.
• I’ll be creating a page for this project rather than a blog entry, but for now this should suffice.
• I’m open to any ideas so long as it isn’t graphic-related. For reasons why, review my issues with getting artwork for any of the games in development.

Feel free to download and add this plugin to your blog, post comments, or whatnot.

Tags: blog utilities, Code, gaming utilities, php, Plugin, random, rpg, Widget, WordPress