Looping the Hen Games

Well, I am thinking of trekking to Franklin tomorrow evening for my first DDM tourney. No high hopes, I am just looking to gain some experience on picking maps (something I've rarely done in earnest) and getting exposed to the Tier 1 warbands.

I'm not 100% sure of what I am going to play, but most likely it will be Lawful Evil, because I have at least one of most of the good creatures. Still, as I did when I played Magic, I will attempt to add my own twist on the better warbands; most of the time when I do that, I do horribly, but on occasion I used to stumble on some hidden gems and took some people by surprise.

A couple of variants I am looking at: (the Troglodyte Captain will most likely be in whatever build I play; I just like him)

Troglodyte Captain
2 x Duergar Champion
Helmed Horror
3 x Troglodyte Thug
1 x Kobold Miner

200 Points, 8 activations

Of course, the problem with this build is facing opposing constructs, because the Troglodytes stench ability becomes uselss and they become overcosted.

A 2nd build I looked at:
Troglodyte Captain
2 x Duergar Champion
Chraal
2 x Troglodyte Thug
Direguard

I'm not sure the Direguard is worth his 24 points, but in the skirmishes I've used him in, he's been a great screener; Spell Resistance 11, Conceal 11, Immune to Cold and Fearless lets him run a little ahead and suck some of the firepower out of opposing spellcasters with a good chance of surviving. Flanking with the Captain would give him +15 for 10 damage, not horrible. And conceal can on occasion be very frustrating; combined with the conceal 6's of the Duergar, the 3 of them may be able to avoid some damage.

For some additional damage potential, I could add a Large Duergar; 20 damage against medium creatures is pretty good for a 15 point critter, and then I could add up to a 9 point tile grabber. Although, the only thing I can think off the top of my head to include there is a Timber Wolf, leaving me 4 short at 196, but up to 8 activations. One last thought is Snig and the Sniglets + a kobold miner, but even with the Trog Captain's bonus, they still won't be able to hit boo and damage resistance makes them mostly useless.

Both these builds suffer from a lack of Magic damage on the Trog's, and for a 53 point piece, the Captain's attacks are pretty bad. Still, when facing living creature bands, stench plus the Trog Captain's commander effect provide the others in the band an equivalent of +7 attack (+5 from the Captain and -2 AC from stench), much better than the Inspired Lieutenant's or Urthok's measly +2. One more problem with the 2nd build is that the captain can't engage like he can in the first, because he is tied to the Chraal and people will try to assassinate him to eliminate both creatures.

I think I'll end up going with the Large Duergar option if only because the band ends up with 4-5 heavy hitters, and even the smallest can do some damage if ignored.

Anyhoo, I'll let everyone know how I do, wish me luck!

Update: Of course, like when I used to play Magic, I change my mind every 10 minutes. Still, I think I've figured out my band, and I think it is the best of both worlds. It offers the possibility of using stench, but limits the stench critters to 2, while upgrading a Duergar for a Helmed Horror, for fearless and overall coolness, plus I get two tile grabbers in the deal. I still wish I had magic weapon in there somewhere, but oh well! And thus I present:

Trogs are Coming to Dinner

Troglodyte Captain
Helmed Horror
Chraal
Duergar Chapion
Large Duergar
Troglodyte Thug
Timber Wolf
Kobold Miner

A perfect 200 points, 8 activations, yay!

Update 2: Ugg, I'm such a duh. I forgot I had an art-show this evening. Waah. I think the next tourney opportunity is Thursday of next week.

Posted by at 7:19 PM | Permalink | Comments (5)

When the elven mages began to file into the great hall of thrones wearing the accoutrements of banishment, Sophix knew their merciful nature had prevailed. For several brief moments, Cinqataq's continued quest for execution had concerned him.

"Sophix," began the eldest of the Caeleim Summoners "For your crimes, it would be within the due of the FIve Races to extinguish your presence from existence."

Sophix slowly nodded. "However, the wisdom of our Races has decided to bind and banish you with your own Demonic Law. Do you agree to never return to our plane, or any other plane, planet, or sphere not your home, from the 7th Plane of Hell; and do you agree that from your hell you will never contrive to harm, through action or inaction, thought or deed, this world or any other, nor any entity upon it, from now until the end of your days. Do you consent?"

"From whence I came I shall never return, nor from there seek to harm this world or any other, or any entity thereupon." His voice was a dry whisper, but spoke true.

The elves moved to their positions at 12 points around the demon and until they stood 12 deep. Methodically, they began the greatest and most ancient Invocation of Banishment known to the Five Races. Twice in their history they had banished demons of Sophix power or greater. Many believed this would be the greater even than those, if only for the devastation he had wrought upon their world.

As the elves began their chant and gathered their power around them, waves of light and sound moving in complex patterns and colors never seen in any rainbow, a faint thought rippled across the Deceiver's mind. It is too bad I shall never leave this world and have to keep such accord.

For the first time in the history of the Five Races, an Invocation of Banishment failed, and so the flower of their species were lost to the world. As the ritual reached its climax and a dozen dozen elves poured out their power and opened the portal through which the demon would be cast out, a silent magic far greater than theirs was ignited by their own spell, like a spark lighting a forest blaze.

For a thousand years, Sophix had designed and crafted his citadel stone by stone, gem by gem, column by column, preparing it for the moment now upon it. At first, the voice raised in song by the very pillars of the great hall was as beautiful as the silver glyphs carved upon them. And then the harmonics began their inevitible vibration until they reached the oversensitve resonance point of the Beorheim spinal column. Writhing in agony, the three dozen Forest Elves twisting to a vibration none of the other elves could even feel collapsed.

Sensing something was wrong, the others tried to awake from their trances. The Alfheim got so far as opening their eyes before the sublime glow that had permeated their ritual became a rhapsody of light at first intoxicating, then blinding. And then the true pain began, daggers of brilliance carving up their psyches and conscious mind both, leaving them incoherent and helpless.

Sophix almost grinned as he watched his enchantment work and felt the breath begin to stir in Daicraisius, so long asleep awaiting this moment. The Caeleim, for all their power, had always been the easiest ot subdue, he mused. On cue came the thunder crack, a welling boom that rose to a cacophony of pure sound, punctuated by the gutteral noises of the demons now pouring through the portal the elves had so graciously opened for him. The Wind Elves fell as if made of wood, clutching their bloodied ears before unconscious took them. For 54 years, Sophix' demonic army had waited for this moment in a place beyond, and knew their tasks too well to fall to random bloodlust.

Although the Aqueim were the weakest of the races, in both physical strength and arcana, they possessed none of the crippling weaknesses of the others either. Still, by heat and blade the confused Sea-fey were easily cut down where they stood by the generals of the Infernal Host the Five Races had loosed upon this world. Finally the horde opened wide the doors to the Courtyard Majesta and raised a gleeful shout as they finished their task; most of the Seven Thousand already lay on the now crimson-tinged cobblestone, vanquished by Daicraisus' spell.

It is truly here begins the tale of Aljamein, the Betrayer. For the simple destruction of the elves would have never been sufficient for Sophix the Artisan. Even his breath was blaspheme to the races of the light, and he had only begun to revel in their torment. Far, far worse awaited the Five Races than the simple death of a swift bite or blade.

Posted by at 9:52 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

Field Reporter: Chief, if I were surrounded by eight or ten of these things, would I stand a chance with them?

Sheriff McClelland: Well, there's no problem. If you have a gun, shoot 'em in the head. That's a sure way to kill 'em. If you don't, get yourself a club or a torch. Beat 'em or burn 'em. They go up pretty easy.

Challenge for 03/26/06: Night of the Living Dead

200 point warbands.

Warbands must be of a single faction, except that it may contain one (and only one) Cleric of any alignment.

Clerics that take no action during their activation may destroy any one target undead creature.

Starting on the 2nd turn, each player prior to their first activation may place up to 20 points worth of undead in the starting location of the opposing player. These creatures are now part of your warband and may activate the turn they enter play. Each subsequent turn, each player may increase the amount of undead put into play by one point. (e.g. 21 points on turn 3, 22 points on turn 4, 23 points on turn 5, etc).

The first player to lose their cleric is overcome by the undead horde and has their brains eaten by raving ghouls.

Final rule: Zombies already ate all the dwarves, and thus no dwarves may be present in any warband. (although you may place dwarf skeletons if you choose)

So mote it be.

Posted by at 9:29 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

Yaay, I think I finally got some of my regular D&D group to give Minis a try. I hope you guys like!

Most Sundays we play DDM at Rodney's, and whoever wins the day gets to determine the next week's challenge. Two weeks ago I won my first (200 points, all figures must be 25 points or under) with a horrid DIreguard-heavy warband. The conceal 11 kicked butt, so I got to pick this time:

Mine was called 'Beauty and the Beast' (yeah, I'm a little goofy I know): 200 points, factions either good or evil, Female Commander, all other creatures must be large. It was fairly fun, though I didn't realize at the time that their aren't a whole lot of female commanders. Rodney took Copper Samurai (who knew he was a she?), Alex used the diminutive Champion of Yondalla, (aww, how cute!), and Justin used the 'Hi, I'm not really a real girl, but I'm actually a plant' Nentyar Hunter, who we all agreed was definitely girlie enough for him. I chose one of the new figures, the Inspired Lieutenant, mainly because she was on my kitchen table and easy to get to.

Although she seems powerful enough for a 45-point commander, I stupidly attached two Chraal's to her, so I couldn't really ever risk her in combat. She did do a 10-damage Recall Agony against the Lady Samurai, but other than that she just sat around looking pretty. My band:

Inspired Marshall
2 x Chraal
1 x Large Duergar
1 x War Troll

After Rodney's Royal Whipping of my Greenfang/Direbear band earlier in the day, the lovely and talented Inspired Marshall won back my honor and forced his Samurai to commit seppaku. She then ended up routing the itty-bitty Midget of Yondalla to take the day.

So I get to choose the next challenge also, go me! I have an idea I hope will be as fun as this one was, but it could end up being too complicated. I will post the details tomorrow!

Oh, what the heck, I will give a hint, I call it: Night of the Living Dead: A tribute to George A Romero.

Brains!

Posted by at 9:57 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)

It is to the Races credit they could not imagine the scale of Sophix deception. He had watched the elves from his hell for a thousand thousand years. He knew each of them by name, infernally scrawled into daemon-skin parchment. Seraphi, Eldest. Noforost, Wisest. Ravelin, Hesitent Slayer. Miea, Serene, Gravid, Caelein. Tens of thousands of names, hundreds of thousands of pages; he knew the eldest races in more detail than their own histories. Thousands of spies among the elves over the millenia passed their knowledge to him through rituals and sacrifice. Birds, beasts, men, and on 3 occasions, elves themselves sold him their wisdom. For he did not sleep, he did not rest. His Existence depended upon knowing the fairer races, and what fate they would choose for him. Unlike the Five Races, who only knew of Sophix after his first armies marched from his fortress, the demon understood his foe.

Sophix didn't tremble as he stood before the Seven Thousand, the greatest army of fey ever assembled, and the last. He knew combined they could snuff his being out, even though his power could best any 100 of them. In the end, he counted on their strength, and his own weakness. Were he arrogant, as his brother and sister might have been, the grand Deliberation of Fa-Sophi might have turned out differently. If he lied, they would have seen his deception.

For 100 days the elves deliberated over the demon's fate. In the beginning, the calls for executing him weighed more, the fury of a half-century of war ringing through the great citadel. But as their anger waned and their thoughts grew clear, voices of dissent grew louder. Imprison him. Banish him. Bind him. Sensing the cause of slaying the demon was losing, Cinqataq, High Master of the Alfheim, sought to have Sophix condemn himself through lies and deceit. In his pride, he thought he understood the depths in the demon that no one else did.

And so when Cinqataq asked the Archfiend if would speak for himself and attempt to explain away his actions at the Sentence, Sophix agreed. And the Deceiver did what no elf present believed he could: he told the truth.

Speaking in hushed tones, Sophix laid out his story, without embellishment. He did not apologize, nor did he attempt to justify his actions, for he knew his audience would not care. Instead, he described the Ritual of Baalzenoa in minute detail, which he would be forced to undergo should he fail to defeat the elves. He spoke of the Million Years of Torment he would face in his father's personal torture-prison, falling under the knives and claws and teeth of countless other demons trapped there also.

For seven days the demon spoke, telling at length of his surveillance of the elves over much of their history. He spoke of their kings and queens, their victories and failures, their tiny loves and great betrayals. Calling many in the crowd by name, he spoke of deeds that made them proud, reciting each victory in detail, and only rarely of their shortcomings.

Bringing tears of remembrance to ashen faces, Sophix spoke to them the tale of Maya, the Unforgiven. Of how she was cast out of elven society in a fit of pique, for a petty crime it was found later she did not commit. For many months Maya journeyed in despair, her body growing big with a rare, precious elven child. No one in the room ever knew her fate, and they strained to hear the demon's words. Expending the last of her power, the elf ascended the great peak at Kharibaldi, lifting herself into the 2nd clutch of eggs mothered by Harizard, greatest of the ivory dragons. Speaking telepathically, she begged the wyrm-queen to raise her child away from the fickleness of her kin, and offered the only thing left of value she possessed: her power. The queen, awash in the despondency of the Caeleim and fearing for her own brood, reluctantly agreed.

Inducing herself to labor, the elf bore her child and held her briefly to her heart. And then laying her in swaddling among the soft white eggs, Maya gave herself to the queen. Many moments later, bereft of her blood-power and spirit, the Unforgiven stepped off the Ledge of Kharibaldi and broke herself on the rocks many miles below.

The crowd was stunned into silence. But the demon did not quit his tales, and told a hundred others, perhaps a thousand. He did not offer them as recompense for the slaughter of the elves, though many took them as such. He spoke them as if he were a great seer reciting from a history book. For seven days he taught them of their nobility, their strength, their beauty, and only on occasion, their sin. When Sophix finished, without once looking up he kneeled before them and spoke no more.

The elves filed from the hall and began to deliberate once more, though with less abandon than before. In less than a day, they reached their verdict. Dozens of mages began to prepare the rituals that would be necessary to carry it out. Cinqataq, in disgust and humiliation, relinquished his title and exiled himself from his brethren. A lucky few fled with him. Although their story does not end here, he is known to history as Abdu Loqua Alfhei, Last Master of the Flame.

Posted by at 7:14 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

*The half-charred book containing the tale and legacy of Aljamein (Alfamane) is owned by Arion and has been shared with the party; the Caeleim requests it's presence not be disclosed, nor it's content discussed, with the subject of the book*

...Sophix, third of the Demonic Triumverate, was charged with the destruction of the power of the Five Races. Physically the weakest of the three Demonlords, he understood in any case that the nature of the elves could not be broken by sword and stone. Humanoid armies had tried for millenia to defeat them by force of numbers and skill at arms, only to be repulsed again and again by the Greater Magics each elf possessed.

The Deceiver instead played upon the Races weaknesses: their need for beauty, their ability to hope, thier capacity to forgive, and their ultimate surity in their ability to survive. For nearly half a century, the demon plotted his own defeat, and through it, his ascension and reward.

In the 23rd year of the war, after initial victories against the greater fortresses of the Five Races, Sophix implanted a small flaw in each of the Kleimulkrer, his slayer-constructs. Each was created of demon-steel mined in the lower hells and carved in the shape of elvish totems: Eagles for the Caeleim, panthers for the Beorheim, dragons for the Alfheim and rays for the Aqueim. Each could track elves by their blood alone, the magic flowing in their veins stood as a beacon to the abominations, and they fed on it.

After two more decades of war, the elves finally discovered the flaws in the creatures hunting them, and they turned from hunted to hunter. Hundreds of the slayers were destroyed, and the humanoid armies that followed them. A few years later it looked as if the elves victory over Sophix was assured. His armies were annihilated, his monstrous golems lying like so much scrap at the foot of his great fortress Daicraisius at the head of the Crevenda Split. For years the fortress had been the ultimate goal of the elves; it was a vision of splendor that silently oversaw the mounting defeats of the humanoids. Its spires of pearl and gold, lapis and silver entranced the elves as they wondered at the sick creature that could cause such destruction and still create such magnificence.

Still the elves fought on, until finally sensing victory, they began to debate amongst themselves over the terms of Sophix's surrender. After the defeat of his last Mage-General at the Battle of the Gorge, Sophix sent forth a single ambitious Ogre Mage to carry the black flag of defeat. Many of the elves wished to cut the creature down and extinguish their rage at the years of war with his blood; their own natures, as Sophix had long relied on, prevented them from doing so.

In the 54th year of war, the great silver gates of Daicraisius were thrown open, and the triumphant elves poured through to marvel at its wonders. Ten thousand humanoids lay prostrate in surrender in the Courtyard Majesta, exposing their necks should the elves choose to end their lives. Many had been starving, their bodies thin and weak atop the white-flecked cobblestone. It bespoke humiliation, and the Races felt compassion. A few tested the air, looking for traps and trickery, but the only source of corrupt magic was the demon himself and the young Ogre Mage; the humanoids presented no threat to such a host of Magi.

As the elves entered the great hall of thrones, again they stared in awe at craftsmanship to rival the greatest Dwarven artisans. The floor was awash in a thousand hues as gems embedded reflected late afternoon sunlight. A hundred silver columns were filigreed with scenes of battles Sophix had both won and lost, and they bespoke a humility they could not previously imagine in a fiend. He appeared before them as a wizened man, his hands already bound in front of him. Of course that was a joke, and the elves knew he still possessed his full powers and would not let themselves be deceived by so simple a trick.

It was the not so simple trick that brought the Five Races to an end.

Posted by at 7:29 PM | Permalink | Comments (4)

Crafting:

For basic crafting, I tend to let the players try anything basic, such as leatherworking, tailoring and the like. If they have a mentor of any sort, they can try more advanced crafts such as blacksmithing, fletching. This way, often early in campaigns with a lot of down time, they have something to do. It also lets players feel more a part of a world, instead of apart from it. My rules so far on crafting have been fairly random, as many of my others, so I am looking to provide some basic boundaries.

Crafting, basic

Base DC 12
Complex Item +2-+20
Multiple Materials - +2
Masterwork - +8 (additionally, rolling +10 over the total DC of an item will also confer the mastercrafted designation)
Time-sensitive (typically alchemical/poisons/vinting) - +3
Increased saving throw- +2 for each bonus +1 to save
Need to cross over disciplines to create- +3 to +10 (E.g. to create steel arrows, a fletcher will need to have blacksmithing to create the base components; if the player procures the appropriate base materials, this does not apply)

Example 1:

The resident druid decides he would prefer to create leather man-purses and backpacks for a living instead of doing something silly like changing into animals, running off woodcutters or the like.

A standard leather purse would be a DC 12, and the druid needs to roll 8 or higher (+2 dex, +2 leathercrafting). However, if the druid wants to make very cool masterwork backpacks (+3 total saves, -10% encumbrance, +10% capacity), his DC would be 27: base 12 + 3 complexity + 8 masterwork + 2 multiple materials (metal buckles, bone reinforcement) + 2 saving throw. In this case he would need to roll a natural 20 to succeed. Leather armor: DC 18 (Base 12+4 complexity+2 multiple materials)

Example 2:

The Egotistical Half-Caileim Arcane Assassin/Blood Cultist/Rogue/Wizard of the party decides he needs to take up fletching in order to flirt with the resident single hottie bowmaker chick.

Base DC 12, Dexterity Based
Wooden arrows: DC 12 (Yield 1-8)
Metal Tipped: DC 15 (+1 complexity, +2 multiple materials, yield 1-4, +1 damage)
Barbed: DC 17 (+3 complexity, +2 multiple materials, yield 1-3, +2 damage, 3 points total bleed)
Steel Shafted: DC 22 (+3 complexity, +7 blacksmith crossover, yield 1-2, 1-8+1, +50% range)
Payload Arrow: DC 24 (+7 complexity, +2 multiple materials, +3 time sensitive, yield 1; base arrow +2d4 acid/fire/etc, )

I will add more specifics to the list as we play through this campaign. The above will most likely be freely modified as smarter people than me explain why something is more or less complex than I think!

Posted by at 11:16 AM | Permalink | Comments (3)

Rodney, who taught me to play Dungeons and Dragons Miniatures not long ago, has a good post about dice fudging by DM's and the development of the Invincible Player complex.

My players and I have recently had some heated discussions, as well as our first ever 'rules' argument, and I think Rodney hits a small piece of why.

Posted by at 7:01 PM | Permalink | Comments (4)

There are many fantasy worlds and stories where we watch the decline of the elder races (typically Elves and Dwarves) and the rise of (sometimes heroic) humans. In Lord of the Rings and the Shanarra trilogies (as well as many other standard fantasy novels), humans and their allies against all odds defeat the forces of evil.

About a year ago, even before I started back with my current group of D&D players, I thought about designing a world where at the final battle...the humans lost. Every person in every army who fought against the Evil Empire is put to the sword. The bad guys win, and it is the humans who are forced into decline. I wasn't sure if it would make a very good D&D world, but I was intrigued by the possibilities.

And so I have begun to develop Nihilat, the Fallen World. The races of men, elves, and dwarf are near extinct, numbering in the thousands or tens of thousands as far as any know.

There are definitely some challenges, and in many instances the game I have been running has lacked a spark that regular interaction in a political world brings. Instead of worrying about dukes and merchants, the party worries about whether their secret colony has enough food and iron. Instead of the safe haven being a human city, in this world any human town with a population over 200 risks annihilation by the humanoids. Instead of trading using gold and silver, the party barters ingots of iron, bows and arrows, or animal hides. The ability to hide, move silently, or run quickly are very valuable, as often the forces of evil have nigh-infinite numbers to throw at the party. (well, so far this hasn't really happened, but the party is just now becoming a gnat on the rump of the evil empire, so probably very soon)

Currently the world is about 6 months old, and no one has quit yet, so I hope it has hope. Over the next however long, the majority of this blog will be devoted to the players, denizens, history and properties of The Fallen World.

Posted by at 7:46 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

From the Surrender of Mankind, penned by the secretery-demon Glarbaxu using the blood of Garvin the Empty, last king of men.

And so the plague of humanity is ended and their days passed away; their only future to crawl and grope upon the salted ground. The remnants of mankind and the Five Races shall serve as slaves and concubines. By whim they may live, by whim they may die, until blood no longer stains these pages.

Posted by at 7:34 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Born after the Final War to Migga Ventinhert, member of the enigmatic Enclave of Morridin, Second Matron of family Dvivindul, clan Vrokenmont. After the dwarves final defeat at the battle of Red Crest, the thousand survivors of clan Vrokenmont (renamed after the tragic battle, Vrokenmont means Broken Hill in the common speech shared by Dwarf and Human) retreated for weeks into the tunnels under Red Crest, pursued by the War Golems of the Half-Demon Urtifixian, mage-general of the Southern Legions. Eventually the tunnels narrowed and the golems were caught in a stone trap at the Cavern of Gorgetwist.

Migga reached the Miction Straits with less than a hundred kinsman, the others choosing to remain, and most likely die, in the bowels of Range Roryn Dvin. Boarding the longships of Marci Longsled, pirate (bound by oath to the Aqueim princess Meriwynn), they made the 12 day journey to the haven at Dverven Fell. Traversing the Sacred Route, hidden to the eyes of any not Dwarven, they made their way to the undercity of MIctrianium.

Dar Win grew to manhood 50 years after Humanfall in the inky black while his folk were possessed by the Dark Mind, a dwarven tribal depression where subsistence was the only concern. During those years, not a single stone or carving was added to Mictrianium, not a single blade was forged, and not a single story sung.

After another half-century, something wakened in Dar Win, and he was unable to abide the cowardice and hopelessness of his kin. Dar Win moved himself to the great rock library of Perdicum and relit the Undersun, artifact of Clan Bictinfin. Possessed of its power, for 20 years he taught himself the meaning of the glyphs and runes on every surface. His limitations and lack of mentor did not disuade him from enveloping himself in Artifice, the craft of Making. He rekindled the great black forges at Herculum, and began his first Masterwork.

The cityfolk pleaded with Dar Win, most under the influence of the depression, who feared the light and sound would draw the attention of the humanoids many miles above. He ignored them and after 30 days without food or rest, unconscious in the throes of an Artificer's Trance, he finished his hammer, Levinthrong. When he awoke, his mother told him of his clan-brother Dey Van, who had thrown himself in the Herculum furnace. No one knows if the suicide was the effect of the depression or whether it was a rebuke to Dar Win.

Shamed by both his people and himself, by guilt and despair, he took Levinthrong and crossed beyond the three great temples of Roryx, Aryx and Kone, blasting their seals and unknowingly allowing entrance by the creatures who dwelled in the underlands.

He made his way from the dwarvenlands to the Ancestral tombs of house Clegath, humans who the dwarves had called Stonefriend. They were exterminated by the forces of the Twin Rivers Lich at the very start of the Centuries War. Dar Win, almost by hand except for the help of a handful of humans and a full-blooded Caeleim (Wind Elf), extended the undertombs already present, to the surface.

He founded an organization similar to the Enclave to which his mother belonged, except comprised of humans and half-elves. Children felt to be extraordinary, whether by portent or breeding, are brought to the tombs and trained as best as the few teachers are able, in the hope that by some miracle they will lead a rebellion and regain their place in the world above.

Dar Win uses his skills as an artificer to create arms and armor, his wits to provide counsel, and his wealth to aid the cause of Rebirth.

His most notable companion is Munchier, a clay golem protector, who watches over him during his trances.

(Dwarven Artificer 13, Fighter 3)

Posted by at 6:01 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Hopefully this one will be a tad shorter than the last!

In my campaign, we use spell-casting checks for both mage classes and cleric classes. Generally, a Mage's base success is 90% and a clerics is 80%; the latter is due to the campaign world having had most of the good gods/goddesses killed off by the forces of evil, thus their power is not nearly as absolute as in some planes. These can be modified in the case of mage by armor, difficult conditions, attempts to modify the spell on the fly and the like. Clerics' chances can be additionally modified by the waxing and waning of the power of a deity, an incident of which occurred in our last session where a player was completely out of touch with his druidic goddess for 3 days due to world events.

In any case, a player who has a normal chance of casting a spell can have their spell empowered or weakened by where it falls on the spectrum. For example, a mage casting fireball will do -2 damage per die on a 86-90%, -1 per die on 81-85%, +1 damage per die on 11-15, +2 damage per die on 06-10 and +3 damage plus an additional hit die damage on a 01-05. Additionally, a mage rolling a 01-05 will gain between .25 and 1 point of 'affinity' for fire.

For a long time, I had players gathering affinities for various spell schools, from healing to electric to cold to conjuration, without any good base line for what it did for the character. Sometimes we added to it certain skill checks and saving throws, sometimes we added it (or reduced from) damage dice. I had a good thought about them a few nights back (it was actually while I was putting together this weekend's DDM band) and my players and I discussed last night and I think we came up with Affinties 1.0. One of my main concerns is that adding or removing damage from dice was going to get way overpowered too quickly, and this addresses that nicely while still giving the player with a decent affinity in something a couple of cool effects.

For each level of affinity in a spell type, the player gets to add 1 to any spells in that category DC rating, and gets to add 1 to their saving throw against spells in that category. Also, each level of affinity in a spell type allows a base 1% magic resistance against that spell type. For example, the resident half-Caeleim (elf) Bloodmage/Arcane Assassin casts a lightning bolt at Evil Bird-Dragon Beast (as AKBar would put it), and he has 3 points of air/electric affinity (we're still debating on the spell classes). Normally the BDB would have a save of 12+3 (spell level), in this case because the elf has affinity in electric, it would have a DC of 18.

Now Raistca, the mage, not being too bright doesn't notice that the lightning bolt is going to reflect off the solid wall behind the beast. First, because of his affinity he gets a 3% change the spell has no effect on him; if that fails, as it most likely will, he gets a +3 on his reflex save to take 1/2 damage (in his case 1/4 because he has a modified form of evasion).

We just implemented this rule as law last night, so we are still tweaking some spell classes and the like, but I think it allows some better flavor to each character. Also, as I am a firm believer in balance, characters who fail their spells badly lose and can actually have a negative affinity (called susceptibility) meaning it will be harder to save against that spell type or cast that spell in the future.

I'll let y'all know how it goes!

Posted by at 11:42 AM | Permalink | Comments (4)

I'm off to play poker tonight, but I just wanted to put a little blurb out about subjects I hope to post about in the next couple of weeks. Some of them are just items I'm interested in, but many are due to questions, concerns, or needs of my current campaign. After I get these out of the way, I'll introduce all the characters and NPC's in my current game, as well as some of the 'what happened up until now'. I'll also explore some history of the world, politics, and other generally boring stuff! All of my players, as well as any others who may stop by, are welcome to request discussion topics or guest-post if they like. I've been DM'ing now for about 22 years, but I learn stuff from even the newest player every time I play, and I absolutely realize my way is just that, my way, and I enjoy hearing about others' ideas and methods as well. And if they are good ideas, don't be mad as I regularly steal things for my own games!

Currently on the roster: Discussion of experience points and how they are awarded (a continuation of a discussion my players and I had, and hopefully some improvements to the system), crafting, the leadership feat and its relations to cults,churches,guilds and towns;familiars and their impact on the game, and the use of our mostly non-standard familiars; a full breakdown of the 5 types of elves/half-elves I use, and their current uberness in relation to the rest of the races, and hopefully some proposed fixes.

I'll also highlight at some point any of the prestige classes we work into our game (Raistca, send my your class!), and hopefully some guest spots by my players. One of them currently does a mini-chapter prior to each adventure that I enjoy reading, and another has in the past.

As always, questions, comments, suggestions, complaints welcome!

Update: Oops, forgot something...my players will be happy to know I think I figured out what the main benefit of affinities/susceptabilities will be; it struck me today like an affinity to lightning+1 (okay, that was horrible, but anyway!)! Remind me and we'll talk about this weekend.

Posted by at 5:43 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

The D&D alignment system has to me never seemed very complete, or effective. Too often it is hard for players (and DM's) to adapt their playstyle to their chosen alignment or the alignment of their NPC's. Some alignments end up as the 'holding tank' for players who want to keep their options open (chaotic neutral, anyone?).

At first level, who really knows their character anyway? It is like another skin a person is putting on, and players have yet to find out their new ticks, their foibles, their fears, their aspirations. Sometimes the Paladin ends up acting like the resident ogre, or pushing too hard on the 'lawful' stick over the 'good'. Only once have I truly enjoyed someone playing as a Paladin in one of my campaigns; he was hysterical, arrogant, generous (secretly), loyal (secretly), narcissistic. In other words, human. I sitll find myself shaking hands with people in real life and joking 'Hi there, I am the Lord o' Leisure, and you are pleased to meet me!' Another problem is many folks try to pigeonhole the alignments, often into specific stereotypes we have all read in over 20 years of fantasy literature. After so long, I don't blame the players for the inability to properly play (or desire to play) specific alignments; I blame Wizards for not creating a more elegant system.

Fifteen years ago, I started something new. Players wouldn't get an alignment until 3rd or 4th level, after they had a chance to get to know their characters, and find out who they were. It actually worked pretty well, as we didn't have many folks striving to be alignment specific characters like Druids or Paladins. However, in those cases we could have run into some difficulty, as what happens when your Paladin gets to third level and you realize she is Chaotic Selfish?

After many years, this approach did not satisfy me either, as we still had difficulty assigning folks to one alignment over another. People, let alone fantasy characters, are incredibly complex, and 9 alignments is just not enough to encompass the essence of even a small portion of them.

So about 6 months ago, with some initial confusion among the players starting their 2nd campaign with me, we tried something completely different. It is simple, but infinitely more flexible than the 9 alignment rainbow. It can more easily cover a knight's fall from grace, a thief's change of heart, a druid's reconciliation with his goddess. It is an open system, easily adopted and modified. And best of all, it is fun and brings some real meaning to the balance between good and evil, law and chaos.

To be completely honest, I think it started as a joke (though not like in the example below). Imagine a scene many of us have probably played or DM'd through. Bob the Barbarian, Megan the Mage, Thoughtful the Thief and Clerg the Cleric have just defeated a group of kobolds who attacked them because the adventurers were invading their home (a dungeon). Two kobolds surrendered at the end of the battle, and the party is deliberating what to do with them while the kobolds plead for their lives.

Bob: Well, no offense little guys, but we can't have you warning anyone or staying behind us, so I have to kill you. *Bob advances on the cowering forms menacingly.*

Megan: Whatever, just do it quick, I think I can hear some more coming down the passage.

Clerg: Are you really sure that's the right thing to do? *waffles* I can see why we'd want to, but I just don't know.

Thoughtful: Sorry Bob, that's a big no go on the slaying helpless critters. They're almost kind of cute.

Bob: Whatever, like you can stop me.

Thoughtful: Probably not, but I'll make a good speed bump. *Thoughtful steps in front of the hulking barbarian, blocking easy passage to the small creatures.*

Clerg: Umm, guys, whats going on?

Megan: I know you could smash me like your random orc, Bob, but I think Thoughtful may be right. They did surrender. Maybe we should just tie them up.

Clerg: This is stupid, they aren't even human. *Clerg steps up behind the two prone forms, brings his mace up over his head and bashes one of the kobolds, killing him instantly. Thoughtful springs and turns, catching Clerg's 2nd swing in one hand while his other presses his blade to the Cleric's throat, drawing a hairline of blood. Bob backs off, rebuked by the thief's conviction if nothing else. Megan looks uneasy, knowing she won't last long in the dungeon without the cleric, but still wanting to support Thoughtful. She remains silent as the standoff finally ends, with the cleric sheathing his weapon and reaching for the rope to bind the humanoid, knowing the thief could kill him with a thought.*

In my current game, after that scene played out, the players would get something like this from me:

'Bob, gain one point of chaotic. Megan, gain a half point of lawful. Clerg, gain one point of chaotic and one point of evil. Thoughtful, gain one point of lawful and one point of good.'

Now, I am not looking to argue the above scene with anyone, nor whether my choices or interpretation are right or wrong. In my world, there is as little moral relativism as possible. Some things are right, and some things are wrong, and players are free to choose them both. Is it possible the kobold escapes and warns the rest of his people and they kill one of the party members? Yep. It still does not change the fact that at the moment in time when the discussion was held, some folks were acting lawfully, some folks were acting chaotically, and one of each was good and evil.

In my world, every significant action can have the attributes of lawful, good, evil and chaotic attached to it. Players accumulate those points, and they in essence determine the player's true alignment. Sometimes players who have been on an evil streak because it seemed fun in the beginning have a true change of heart and begin down the long road of redemption. Sometimes a consistently lawful and good party member has a bad night and snaps in anger or haste and gains a point or two of evil or chaotic. But whatever happens, players know where they stand in relation to the world, each other, and themselves. A typical player may have on her sheet: +11 good, +3 evil, +2 chaotic, +7 lawful. Is this player the perfect Monk? Nope, this player is better. She is real, with a little bit of everything, although she is doing a fairly good job overall in maintaining her Lawful Goodness.

One benefit of this system is that it more thoroughly colors a player in relation to the rest of the community. A party member who regularly protects helpless or captured creatures develops a reputation that lends many to not fear him (as much) or risk fighting to the death. However, when fighting a party member who regularly slays captives, creatures will fight viciously and to the last breath, knowing if they don't they are dead anyway.

Right now my players are around 5th/6th level, and the number of times I have to award points of any sort has gone down, because they have established routines of behavior, and now only get alignment points for significant events. For example, if a player already has 11 good points and 9 lawful points, they won't gain any more for saving the kobold above, because it really is who they are now. It would take something more, like going out of their way to protect the kobold village from the army of rock trolls who are invading the dungeon, for no reason other than preventing the genocide of an entire culture. In that case, they would probably get 2 more of each. If the same player chose to watch the destruction of the village with no concern, they would probably get a point or two of chaotic, although maybe not any evil (depending on their reasons for not helping), while the already +12 chaotic player wouldn't get any more.

When we first started this, I didn't know if it would work on not or whether it was silly. However, after probably a couple hundred assigned alignment points, I have a much better idea of who the characters are, which direction they are trying to head, and who they want to be. The entire experiment has been, at least in my estimation, a huge success, and a great improvement over the standard D&D alignment system.

I am even working on a 2nd stage that I hope to post later in the week and try in our game this weekend. Depending on how many points one has, I was thinking of assigning bonuses. For example, a Lawful 10 character might get a +2/+2 Law Strike once per day against a chaotic creature, a Lawful 20 character might be able to detect chaotic intentions on a successful perception check, and a Lawful 30 character (very hard to attain) might get a permanent +2 AC against chaotic creatures. The same types of bonuses would apply to highly good, chaotic, and evil characters.

If I get a system worked up I'll post it here; anyone with other suggestions, questions, and criticism's are welcome to comment! However, please note that I have a courtesy policy; all ad hominum attacks and vulgarity will be deleted and the offender smacked with a rubber trout.

Posted by at 7:39 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)

The other entry got a little long-winded, so I thought I would break it up. If you read the other post, you may think that players have carte blanche to do whatever they want. Although technically possible, there are some limitations that prevent things from too often spiralling out of control.

My third rule, 'The world is what it is,' is a pretty good limiting factor. As Uncle Ben once said, 'With great power comes great responsibility.' The responsibility of the players is to understand that although they are heroes, and often very powerful, they are in a world full of magic and monsters, many of which are stronger than they are, ie. I don't pull my punches. Powerful creatures live where they do, and if you cross their path, they may try to kill you for the fun of it. It is up to the players to search out rumors and gossip and to learn what places and people to avoid.

If the players choose to search out and engage something they should know is potentially more powerful than them (a dragon for example), they may end up with the entire party as lunch meat for a thirty-foot worm. It doesn't happen much in my current campaign, although we did have a player try to engage a large wyvern. Alone. At 4th level. In its lair in the ceiling of a great cavern. (he spider climbed his way up) 2 rounds after entering the lair, he was poisoned, unconscious, and testing the law of gravity. Lesson learned.

But still, even that was fun in its own way, as it was a choice he made in all knowledge of the creature, and not one I forced on him, that caused his demise.

My other main scale-keeper is my 4th rule, that all magic has balance. Although in the case of a magic missile, that balance consists only of some material components and gestures, in the case of someone trying to create a magic item or perform a miracle, that balance is more significant. In some cases, much more significant. Players trying to do extraordinary things are required to balance what they seek to gain, through sacrificing experience, permanent hit points, spell points, and/or items of significant value. These things are lost whether they succeed or fail. And often, things may succeed in unexpected ways, sometimes to the frustration of players who just sacrificed half a level's worth of experience and 2 permanent hit points trying to create 'the perfect item.'

One of my current favorite examples of that happened several weeks ago. The resident cleric was trying to craft a token imbued with the power of his goddess Ala (Sun/Moon/Law goddess). He had gathered some good components: a small crystal ball, a full set of bloodstone spell foci, and some pixie dust. He elaborated on the intricate ritual he was going to perform to try to imbue the crystal, including a sacrifice of 2000 exp. For items of significant power as he wanted this one to be, I generally have the player roll thousandths. I can't remember exactly what he rolled, but I think it was around a 36, which is a plenty good roll on 1 to 1000, but not quite good enough to be perfect.

And so was born Fairiehome, a marble that is the resident pocket dimension of the Pixie Diane (who had given him the Fairie Dust). Diane generally likes the cleric and his goddess, but she is fickle, as fey folk are, and will only help him about 50% of the times he asks for it, and in ways he necessarily doesn't want. Powerful? Yes. Broken? Not hardly. Entertaining? Absolutely. This item also allows for the occasional plot hook, as Diane is her own creature, vis a vis rule 3, with her own personality, needs and wants. A revelation in the last session also revealed that the pocket dimension gets smaller everytime Diane helps the party (rule 4), lending some emotional angst to use of the item, as no one knows what happens when it gets too small for her to live in.

To many DM's (and players I guess), the whole sequence of events is probably too ridiculous to contemplate. However, for this game, it seemed very appropriate, as often occurs when the 'crazy' happens. And I hope that is because it invoked all 4 rules in a way that made the game bigger, instead of just creating a +3 bauble of smiting (or denying the ability to create anything).

Many many great DM's don't need me to tell them this (and I don't consider myself one, by any means), but for the rest I can't really stress enough that it is the players game, not ours. If you have a world that ticks along in a way that the players can't effect it, or in a way that forces them down a single path, you are missing the main joy of being a dungeon master. Writing a script is not nearly so magical as watching one written.

Posted by at 9:43 PM | Permalink | Comments (528)

Many traditional D&D enthusiasts who may find their way here and read some of my house rules and philosophies will no doubt take issue with my Dungeon Mastering style. To be honest, sometimes the changes I make to the rules don't work as well as I would like (elves/half-elves, spell points) and I do my best to admit my failures and try to fix them (often difficult when trying to do so mid-campaign). Sometimes changes work very well (alignments, skills). As many long time gamers found, a large quantity of 'house rules' found their way into 3rd and 3.5ed from AD&D as fixes to some serious gameplay flaws. Often, my players end up being guinea pigs until we find something that works, but I try to let them know that up front and seek their input.

I've never really tried to codify my philosphy of DM'ing, but there are some key elements I try to keep consistent no matter what campaign or group of folks are playing:

1) It is the player's story
2) Anyone can try (almost) anything
3) The world is what it is
4) Magic has to balance

So what does that mean?

First, In general, that means I run our games off the top of my head. Sometimes this leads to fairly dull sessions if I am unusually tired (or have too much Amberbock), but some work out better than I could ever plan. I have found that scripting specific adventures for specific days doesn't often work out well for anyone. Generally, players will do the unexpected (or would like to), and I know of many DM's who, by trying to tell their own story, become overly involved in keeping the players on a very short leash. It is true some players have a hard time adjusting to 'finding their own way' when asked 'what do you want to do?' (in a general sense, not in relation to a specific task), but eventually most players in my campaigns begin to feel like they can really 'do anything', which is what we are all trying to achieve, yes?

Once upon a time I had reams of paper worth of adventures, and most times they remained that, reams of paper with words on them that people never discovered. Even back then, people ended up doing what they wanted and I did my best to work with what I had: players with imagination, and my own.

This does not mean my worlds are not fleshed out (well, most times they aren't as well as I would like, as I could spend 16 hours a day building a world and still have too much to do), as I generally have a basic idea of where the main adventure hooks are, who the big meanies are, and how the political landscape is evolving behind the scenes. I also try to work on aspects of the game the players seem interested in; alchemy and crafting, for example, have become a fairly significant portion of our current campaign and I am doing my best to flesh out rules for them. Other than that, it is up to the players and the dice to make the game, with me just providing the stage.

Which leads nicely to my 2nd point: players can try almost anything. In this sense, many folks looking in from the outside might feel we have 'one of those games.' You know, where crazy stuff seems to happen and its just not 'realistic enough.' To some extent, I can understand and agree with that sentiment.

However, I go back to the first rule and realize that it is the player's game, and if they want to pray for their goddess' intervention to miraculously turn the course of a battle, who am I to overrule it? In those cases, the dice decide, for good or ill. We have discovered the wonders of rolling not only percentiles, but thousandths, (and in some particularly unusual circumstances, ten-thousandths). From there its easy; if you roll under 50 something great happens, and over 950 something bad happens as karma kicks in.

I mean really, what are the odds of some big birds showing up to rescue Frodo and Sam after they destroy the ring? 1 in a thousand, one in 50,000? Or that Shea will finally figure out how to use the Elfstones just when the Reaper is about to kick his butt in a gajillion different directions? Or that Luke will actually get those torpedoes down the little hole?

I have found that players will take ownership of both the good and the bad, and the chance of something bad happening tends to temper their requests. Not that it has to be divine intervention either, as mostly my players are free to try anything. 'I want to make a backpack.' I know some DM's who would look at their sheet and say, 'sorry, you don't have leatherworking, you can't.' 'Umm, why not?' 'Well, you just can't!' Again, the dice can decide. Roll a 20, and anything above a 15 is a passable carrying device. Anything below a 5 and you ruined your materials. Roll a 20 and you gain a half point in leathercraft and have a new trade.

Players are heroes, and are often the shining stars of their entire race. If they want to mix corkbulb, ash yam, and grave dust together to try to make something cool, why should we stifle that? Maybe they'll be protected from fire. Maybe they'll die of botulism. Maybe they'll just create a new snack food. In any case, the player feels they have accomplished something that is theirs alone, and can't be taken away from them. Lots of players kill badass monsters, but how many bards are so bad at playing their instrument of choice due to failed rolls that they cause discord and confusion instead? Not enough, I'd bet. Characters failings are often their most interesting apects. Allowing players to play their own way, good or bad, is the only way to a successful campaign. (end part 1)

Posted by at 8:24 PM | Permalink | Comments (546) | TrackBacks (1)

One...two...three...

Posted by at 9:21 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)