There's an App for That...

Okay, here's the situation: the party are in a downed airship, needing to conduct repairs. In particular, the item that most needs repairs is the elemental binding ring that powers the ship. So, they have two options - work really slowly while the ring remains intact, or free the bound elemental temporarily so they can work more quickly.

Of course, if they take the latter course, they then need to find a way to keep the elemental trapped for eight hours or so while they work, without allowing it to escape, banishing it, or killing it - any of which will leave them without any means to re-power the ship.

So, under 3.5e rules, allowing the use of the PHB, DMG, Expanded Psionics Handbook, Spell Compendium, and Magic Item Compendium (oh, and the Eberron books), how do you do it?

The answer is: I don't know. Somewhere in there, there is probably a way to do this. But it will be dependent on knowing the right spell/power, or having the right item to hand, or else it can't be done. And, of course, it's a sufficiently obscure situation that most groups won't have considered the possibility, so won't be able even to start.

What is really wanted is for Mondo Jiwa (the Artificer) to McGuyver up some sort of Ghostbuster-style trap for the elemental, while Avon (the Wizard) performs some sort of abjuration ritual thingy, and Jag and Garret keep the creature distracted so it can be trapped. That could be a fun and exciting game scene - Mondo has to keep the trap stable, Avon has to impose his will on the elemental, Jag and Garret have to fight on against a vastly superior foe...

But the 3.5e rules don't really allow for that sort of thing. And although the 4e rules do include ritual magic, it's entirely dependent on specific pre-written rituals, that the Wizard must have on a scroll ahead of time. So, again, unless the party somehow predicted this situation, they're screwed.

What I'm groping towards, although it's all still very much in the dark, is that the game should have some sort of Artifice and Ritual skills (or talents, or whatever), allowing the PCs to put together single-use rituals and items to perform various effects.

And so, Avon would have access to a relatively small number of fixed spells, generally short-duration combat effects, plus a number of talents associated with metamagic and the different sorts of rituals (conjuration, abjuration, scrying, etc...). Mondo would have access to a relatively small number of fixed devices (which could be switched out on a per-adventure basis), plus talents associated with improvised artifice of various sorts. (Oh, and both would have talents associated with their 'helpers' - Avon's familiar and Mondo's homonculi.)

Which is starting to look a lot like the magic system from "Mage: the Ascension", now that I think about it...

The Condition Track

In the back of the 3.5e PHB, there's a glossary that lays out a whole bunch of terms, several of which ('dazed', 'dazzled', etc) can be grouped as 'conditions'. Indeed, in 4e the designers did exactly this, gathering together some 24 conditions in the combat chapter. Each condition has some specific game effect, generally applying a modifier to some roll or other, and generally being a nuisance in play - especially as players so often 'forget' to include the effects of any conditions that apply.

Of course, it doesn't help that 4e conditions get applied, last for a round or two, and then disappear. And so, they're being constantly swapped in and out in any given combat. It's a nice idea in theory; it's a real pain in practice.

It also doesn't help that 3e also includes a bunch of spells that do things that are conditions in all but name - the bless spell, for example, applies a +1 bonus to most d20 rolls, and a further bonus against fear.

Star Wars Saga Edition came desperately close to fixing this. In that game, characters have a condition track and a damage threshold. As they are afflicted with what would be conditions in D&D, they move down the track, suffering a modifier to all dice rolls. And that is the extent of conditions in the game.

Unfortunately, SWSE fails at the final hurdle, by including the notion of a damage threshold. If a character takes more than X damage in a single attack, he also moves down the condition track. It also included a whole bunch of powers that caused damage plus a condition, and a bunch of talents and feats that increased the number of steps moved down the track. The upshot of this mechanic is that there are certain key builds that can reliably take a character from perfect health down to Incapacitated on a single attack.

So, for Nutshell, I'm thinking of using much the same concept. Firstly, there will be a number of conditions:

• A condition will have a strength, ranging from 0 to 5, and also a direction (positive or negative). So, bless is a +1 condition, while encumbered is a -1 condition.
• In addition, conditions may have other effects, but may not impose a further bonus or penalty on a roll. For example, bless may give advantage on rolls versus fear effects, while encumbered causes the character to move at his reduced movement rate.
• Conditions may be persistent or not. A non-persistent condition disappears the next time the character takes a short rest. A persistent condition, not surprisingly, does not - it persists until the appropriate remedy is applied.
• Conditions may be lethal or not. And, indeed, even a positive condition can be lethal - for example, the use of a stimulant could apply a +1 lethal condition.
• In every case, you either have a condition or do not. However, there may well be stronger versions of conditions (heavily encumbered for example), with some means by which a character can transition from one to another.

Additionally, each character would have a condition track, indicating their general health:

• The track would have eleven positions, from +5 to -5.
• Characters would start at a default position of 0 - a neutral position.
• If a character gains a new condition, the strength of the condition should be compared with the character's current place on the track. If the strength is greater, the character moves his position to match the new condition (that is, -2 plus +3 becomes +3). If the strength is weaker, the character does not move on the track (-2 plus -1 becomes -2). If the strengths match, but are in opposite directions, the character reverts back to the neutral position on the track (-2 plus +2 becomes 0). And, finally, if the strengths match and are in the same direction, the character moves one position along the track (-2 plus -2 becomes -3).
• Removing a condition does not immediately change the character's position on the track. A character who is encumbered who then drops his pack removes the condition, but he remains at -1 on the track until something changes that.
• The position on the track applies as a modifier to all d20 rolls that the character makes (except saving throws), and only to d20 rolls.
• The secondary effects of any conditions always apply, regardless of the character's position on the track - a character who is both blessed and encumbered gains no bonus or penalty to rolls, but still has advantage against fear and moves at his reduced movement rate.
• If a character drops to the bottom of the track (-5) and is suffering from any lethal conditions, his hit points are immediately reduced to 0.
• When a character takes a short rest, any non-persistent conditions should be immediately removed. Then his position should be recalculated using his strongest persistent condition. (If he has two of the same strength, apply these one after the other. If he has three or more the same strength, apply two - erring towards getting a result of 0. I'll need to explain that better when I get around to that bit of the text.)

I think this has some advantages over the SWSE implementation:

1. Because there is no damage threshold, there's no inherent death spiral.
2. There are no conditions that move a character "X places down the track", nor any feats or talents to do the same. As such, the ability to abuse the system is limited.
3. Of course, running the track in both directions represents a step forward - it means that things that were conditions in all but name are now handled easily.
4. The bottom of the track doesn't automatically leave the character incapacitated. In theory, that's a nice idea, but in practice it sucks to be knocked out while your character still has (nominally) plenty of fight left in him. As it is, a -5 modifier is plenty nasty enough!

Ultimately, I'm not sure how this will work in practice. It may very well be that adding a condition track is actually no better than the current system. Or it might be! (One thing that I do know helps immensely in 4e, would help in 3e, and certainly would help here - condition cards.)

Just a thought: Encumbrance by Race

One of the few things that I found useful in Tom Clancy's "Clear and Present Danger" (which I'm still reading) is that he noted a strong correlation between the weight of a person and how much they could comfortably carry, long-term, without undue effort.

Now, of course, he was talking about professional soldiers at the time, which therefore assumes that they were already on the high-end of the strength spectrum. However, it occurs to me that D&D adventurers, even Wizards and the like, are also inherently physically active (if nothing else, there's all that running away!). Indeed, even Wizards are known to carry around their packs long-term, which would necessarily hone the various muscle groups.

That suggests that actually a character's weight should be related quite closely to their strength and consitution scores (as well as to height, race, and sex, of course). It also suggests that that "big fat mage" is actually not an adventurer at all - such a character would either be very big and strong, or would be small and weak, or wouldn't really be an adventurer at all.

(Likewise, Gollum's jabs that Sam is a "stupid, fat hobbit" are somewhat true at the start of his quest, but by the end he actually is fat only in comparison to Gollum's own near-starvation - Sam wouldn't have been carrying any excess weight at all.)

The upshot of this is that I'm rethinking the encumbrace rules I had in place for Nutshell, in favour of a simpler system where max load (like base movement) is simply a factor of race - humans can carry 4 major items as a Light load, 8 as a Medium load, and 12 as a Heavy load; dwarves are likewise 4, 8, 12; halflings are 3, 6, 9; and so on. These values should probably include the character's Stength modifier, and potentially allow for the use of a feat or talent to increase the figures.

It's just simpler and cleaner than the current method, which is filled with all manner of exceptions and complexities.

Lessons from TV: Degeneration

I genuinely had good intentions: with the day off work, and with LC being away all day, I was going to spend Monday working on Nutshell Fantasy, or "The Eberron Code", or something game-related.

Instead, I was so wiped out after the drives each way, the late nights and early mornings, the lack of adequate hydration, the stress of dealing with band, and the need to get up to get the car fixed so LC could use it without crashing, that I spent the day watching "Battlestar Galactica". I'm now almost to the end of the third season, and I'm remembering all-too-clearly why I came to dislike the show.

But that's not important right now.

What interests me about BSG, at least from an RPG perspective, is the way the ship, the characters, and the civilisation as a whole gradually fall apart as the show goes on. Everything starts out reasonably shiny and new (well, old and about to be retired; but working, at least), but gradually things start to fall apart. Characters go from being strong-willed and moral to gradually compromising their every principle, developing all manner of weaknesses, and generally degenerating. The society starts with noble intentions of maintaining the rule of law... but principles are gradually shredded as compromises are made and come back to haunt them. And, eventually, it all gets to be too much, and they just can't go on.

Various RPGs have tried to model this sort of gradual decay. "Call of Cthulhu" tracks the Sanity of investigators, causing them to gradually go mad as they learn things man is not meant to know. "Warhammer Fantasy" likewise tracks sanity, and allows for characters to get worse. And it's a staple of games in the Cyberpunk genre that characters gradually lose touch with their humanity as they go.

Truth be told, I've never been a huge fan of these mechanisms, at least as they stand. In my experience, players in WFRP spend most of the campaign actively trying to acquire Insanities, treating them almost as a badge of honour. Conversely, in Cyberpunk games, humanity seems to be treated as a balancing act - just how much cyberware can the character load up on while retaining the smallest fragment of humanity required by the rules?

Which, frankly, isn't terribly good.

Instead, I'm inclined to treat degeration as a common pool for all the PCs, and tying losing points from the pool to the occurance of strictly bad things: hit this threshold, and food starts to run low; hit that threshold, and you have a mutiny on your hands. And, to be especially cruel, have exactly one incident in the entire campaign that can significantly replenish the pool - and even then, only if the PCs score a massive success in that one adventure. Otherwise, all they can do is mitigate the loss.

(This in turn lets the GM introduce a whole bunch of trade-offs for the players to consider - basically, if they take on various character flaws then they gain succour from that and so mitigate degeneration for a time... but they run the risk of becoming addicted, of losing what they had, or whatever, and so suffering a much higher rate in future. And vice versa, of course - getting a cybernetic arm will make things easier going forward, but it will mean a significant hit to degeneration... and not just to you, but to the party as a whole.)

The major problem with this sort of a mechanic is, of course, that it's a built-in death spiral mechanic. As the group degenerates, bad things happen, and those bad things are likely to trigger yet more degeneration, or accelerate the rate of degeneration. Additionally, such a campaign is likely to be extremely grim, and to be fun only for a short period.

(I would recommend giving such a campaign a clear 'victory' condition from the outset. In BSG, the goal is very clearly "find Earth", and so the question is whether they can do that before humanity is wiped out. Similar premises could be developed for other campaigns, giving the PCs a clear goal to achieve, means to achieve it... but also a clearly ticking clock to indicate how they're going.)

One other thing I would consider: keeping the group's Degeneration score mostly secret, with the PCs being informed of the current total only at the start of each session, and with adjustments being applied by the GM based on secret die rolls (including automatic rolls at the start of each session). And so, players can't just make the calculation that they'll happily jump down 100ft because they have 200 hit points, because they can't accurately weigh either the short- or long-term consequences.

But it's all just an idea at the moment.

Building a Better Dungeon: Location and Villain

Of the various elements that go together to make an adventure, probably the two that most set the scene are the location and the villain. After all, in any adventure story, these are the most important elements after the heroes themselves, and it is the job of the players to bring their heroes to the table. But these elements are in the hands of the DM, and so care should be taken to make them live up to their billing.

More Than Just a Dungeon

Over on Part Four, I did a post on world-building concepts in which I spoke briefly about "The World Malevolent". The basic idea I was getting at was that adventures generally shouldn't be set in "a dungeon" or "a forest" or "a temple". Sure, any of those locations could work... but they're a bit bland.

Instead, I'm inclined to think that D&D adventures should look more like "Sanctum" or "Vertical Limit" or "Poseidon", or similar - they take place in environments that are at best coldly indifferent to whether the PCs live or die, if not being outright hostile to mortal life.

Of course, the idea should go beyond just "the PCs take X damage every round" - that really isn't that much better. However, the dungeon should include entirely natural challenges and 'traps' designed to make things difficult. Ceilings should be prone to collapse behind (or around!) the PCs, floors should slope to make things difficult. Pit traps should open as the ancient flagstones finally crumble under their weight. And so on, and so forth.

Multiple Paths

Additionally, in keeping with my theory that an adventure should have multiple mostly-independent goals, and allow for interesting decisions, the adventure location should allow for multiple paths. Ideally, the dungeon should have several different entrances. Most rooms should have three or four doors (one means it's a dead-end; two means it's effectively a corridor).

Oh, and avoid symmetry in your maps. It makes things easy to draw, that's true... but it also leads to both laziness on the part of the designer and boredom on the part of the players.

Multiple Layers of Inhabitants

So, you have this cave complex, and it's home to a tribe of goblins. When stocking the dungeon, therefore, you put some goblins in the first room. Then some goblins in the second room. In the third room... some goblins. You might throw a couple of tame wolves, and maybe a hobgoblin or two, in for variety.

It makes sense, doesn't it? The dungeon is a goblin lair, so you stock it with goblins. What could possibly be wrong with that?

Well... goblins, goblins, and more goblins. Huzzah!

How about this for an alternative, and equally realistic, approach:

You have this cave complex, that was originally one of the routes used by dwarves during their great Quest for Sky, as they came up from the Underdark. Along the way, they fought running battles with orcs, and although they buried many of their dead in the deep, as they neared the end of their journey they were so hard pressed that some great champions were abandoned. Their corpses defiled by the orcs, they now linger on as malign undead. (Plus, of course, somewhere in there is an entrance to the Underdark - what manner of evils may lurk therein?)

In the ages that past, some of the caves closer to the surface were used by bandits on the run from the lawful authorities. These rogues fled the caves when attacked by the undead, but they left various treasures behind, guarded by fiendish traps.

Of course, there's that goblin tribe I mentioned above. And they coexist with a mated pair of brown bears, that terrify the goblins enough that they haven't driven them out...

And so we get four distinctly different types of antagonist, each with good reason to be there, and none of which is truly an ally of the other. Add in some natural hazards, and surely that's got to be a more interesting location for adventure?

(There are, of course, even more interesting options. Adding a second 'intelligent' tribe to the mix automatically opens up other options: are the two allies, enemies, or quietly neutral? How does each respond to PC incursion? Can they be turned on one another?)

The Big Bad

Back in 2nd Edition days, a lot of the GMing advice essentially said to start with the villain of the piece. After all, the nature of the villain will inform the decisions that make up the rest of the adventure. Plus, you want a good, fun climax to your adventure, and a good villain will give you that.

I no longer consider this to be good advice.

I have two reasons for this. The first is that considering the climax of the adventure already presupposes a story structure for the adventure. But the DM isn't writing a story - there's absolutely nothing to say that the PCs won't turn back just before encountering the dragon (true story), that they won't ally with the villain against some other foe. Or, indeed, that the Paladin won't score a critical hit with max Power Attack on his Greataxe, thus causing 90 points of damage in the first attack and one-shotting the villain (yes, another true story).

The other reason is that I'm now inclined to think that adventures shouldn't have one goal, which means that they shouldn't have one villain, which means that designing that villain first is rather meaningless.

(Incidentally, the BBEG thing seems to have started with "Ravenloft", way back when. This adventure also marks something of a start for the "adventure as story" school of design, which then continued in the "Dragonlance" adventures. Unfortunately, I think people saw that "Ravenloft" was genuinely a huge step forward in adventure design, determined that this was down to the villain and the story, and so they learned the wrong lessons.)

So, my advice with regard to villains is to consider the entire adventure holistically. Let the nature of the adventure inform the design of your villain, and let the nature of your villain inform the design of your adventure - each should influence the other. And even that assumes that you even have a BBEG.

(I must note, in fairness, that I certainly wouldn't do this universally. In most campaigns, there are likely to be ongoing villains written into the ongoing narrative. Naturally, if there's an adventure centred on facing down one of their villains, hopefully for the final time, then of course you should have the villain in mind first!)

Okay, that didn't go so well...

So, after all my elaborate thought and preparation, as well as a couple of "really good ideas" I thought I had, last night's session turned out to be largely mediocre. There was still fun to be had, but it was fun generated by the players bouncing off one another, rather than due to any brilliance in adventure design - with another group, that session could well have sucked.

What went wrong?

Well, I think there were four things:

- Firstly, there turned out to be a single "right" answer to the puzzle - repair the ring first, then as much of the hull as can be done quickly, and then leave. Oh, and don't bother releasing the elemental, because it's nigh-impossible to restrain it once that's done, and it's the difference between 4 hours work and 8.

- Secondly, it turned out that they just had too many resources for the job. So it wasn't really a choice between "work quickly" or "maintain security" - they could do both. Oops.

- Thirdly, the random encounter table, small as it was, was a mistake. I had a couple of encounters in mind, and then filled out the table with some other stuff; sure enough, it was the "other stuff" that came up. Additionally, I need to learn to ignore 3e's theory that 16-18 orcs makes for a valid encounter for 8th level PCs - in fact, it requires hundreds of orcs to be a valid challenge. (However, the Ettins did rather better.)

- Fourthly, I did a fairly bad job of changing the situation as things unfolded. So, they worked on the ring, and faced an encounter. Then they finished off the ring, and faced an encounter. Then they worked on the full, and faced an encounter. And then they left.

Fortunately, as noted above, the session was a success despite these weaknesses. But I was left rather dissatisfied. I'll need to revisit this topic, because there will be more challenges in a similar vein coming up and I want to do a better job, and also because I hope to have some significant non-combat stuff in Nutshell, which means solving this same problem.

Building a Better Adventure: Leaders

So, you have an adventure that features several identical encounters - the PCs encounter 6 hobgoblins. The adventure thus either provides the stats once and then refers to them, or it just gives a direct reference to the Monster Manual. And everything is fine, right?

Well, no.

There are two significant flaws with this way of thinking. The first is that having several identical encounters is boring. The second comes the moment the PCs try something radical and dangerous, such as talking to the hobgoblins. At which point, they probably want at least a name for the hobgoblin they're talking to, he'll need a personality and some defining quirks, and so on.

But what do you do? After all, writing up details for every single hobgoblin in the adventure is a huge waste of space and effort, not least since the PCs probably won't stop to talk.

Well here's, not the solution, but clearly a solution...

At the start of the adventure (not in the encounter text), write up half a dozen representative individuals for the various encounters. When the PCs interact with hobgoblins from one of the groups (and not until then), either roll or pick one of these representatives - this then becomes the hobgoblin they speak to, who is now a fully-detailed character, with quirks, mannerisms, and even (gasp!) a name.

(And, in fact, if the PCs decide they don't like that hobgoblin, and speak to the next one, well, you've got that covered as well!)

But for extra credit, there are several ways to take that same idea further:

1. Instead of having the individual chosen be a representative, have that character be the leader of the band, either in reality or in the sense that his character broadly matches the character of the group. So, if Bob the hobgoblin is a cowardly sort, then the group he's with are likewise more cowardly than the norm. If Jeff the hobgoblin prides himself on being a ferocious killer, so too do his band use full Power Attack all the time.

2. The next step beyond this would be to quickly write up the various different war-bands and assign them in play. So, instead of "4 hobgoblins", the text says "hobgoblin band" - and at the start of the adventure you have Jeff's band (heavy on Power Attack), Bob's band (using missile weapons exclusively), Bert's band (two hobgoblins and a cave troll), Dave and Dave (two elite hobgoblins), and so on. When the PCs encounter a band, just assign the one that best fits. (This also has the advantage that it makes the adventure play differently each time it is reused, which can be fun.)

3. Don't forget to give the individual characters different agendas! Perhaps Bob can be intimidated into turning his coat. Perhaps Dave and Dave secretly hate the hobgoblin king, and would happily join a coup. But perhaps Jeff's band are especially loyal, and so any mention of bribes or betrayals meets an immediate and violent response. And as for Bert... well, he hates cowards, and if the PCs ask for his directions he'll point them at Bob, trying to have them wipe out his enemies...

4. Naturally, each individual band should have individual treasures!

5. And don't forget that you can place various clues for your "hidden areas" amongst the individual hobgoblins... in a way that would be difficult if they were just faceless and generic hobgoblins that the party are unlikely to interact with.

Repairing the Ship - a Skill Challenge

So, in tonight's game, the party find themselves with a damaged airship that they have had to set down for repairs. There are some repairs that they will need to do before they can proceed, and others that they can perform or not as they wish. They of course have various resources available to them to allow them to perform these repairs.

Breaking down the repairs that are required, then, there are four broad areas of the ship that are damaged:

• Four sections of the hull were damaged by dragon-breath. Each of these will require 10 'repair points' of work; supplies for doing this are available on the ship.
• One of the two ballistae was destroyed by the a dragon. The ship has a spare; this will require 10 RP of work to install.
• Additionally, the Lightning Thrower was damaged in the attack. This can be repaired, but only by using 2,000gp worth of Mondo's Artificer supplies (that is, party funds). It will require 20 RP of work, which must be supplied by either Mondo or Avon; other characters cannot help.
• The ship's elemental ring was damaged badly in the attack; the ship cannot proceed until this is repaired, at a cost of 30 RP of work.

The ship's crew and complement of the Cerulean Swan is as follows:

• Thirty six crewmen, two of whom are too badly wounded to work. This includes Marion, Cogs, and so on. This gives 3d10 + 1d4 points of available effort.
• Forty mercenaries, led by Axman Gerriol. If used for repair work, they will contribute 2d10 points of available effort.
• Fifteen rogues, led by Buckley. If used for repair work, they will contribute 1d8 points of available effort.
• Avon, Garret, Jag, Mondo, and (maybe) Vixen. The effort they apply varies with the character and the area they repair. For hull or ballista repairs, Mondo provides 1d10 effort, and everyone else 1d4. For Lightning Thrower repairs, Avon provides 1d6 and Mondo 1d10. And for Elemental Ring repairs, Avon is 1d6, Mondo 1d10, and everyone else 1d4.

Broadly speaking, the way it will work is that in every 4-hour watch, the players get to assign the various groups to various tasks. At the end of the watch, assuming no interruptions, roll the dice associated with the groups to tally up the work done (any excess is wasted).

But...

There are a couple of things that the party can do to speed things up:

• If they're willing to use two charges from their wand of cure light wounds, this will get the two injured crewmen up and working again, increasing that 1d4 to a 1d6.
• If they were to release the ship's elemental from its binding ring, that would reduce the cost of repairing that section from 30 to 15 RP. The big problem with that is that they'd then have a huge fire elemental on their hands, which they would need to subdue. If they kill it or it escapes, they wouldn't be able to replace it, so they'd be stuck. But perhaps they could McGuyver up some sort of holding device?

Unfortunately, while they're doing all of that, there are also some other things that should be considered:

• Security. The ship has put down in hostile territory, with dire animals, living spells, drow raiders, giants, orcs, and other nasties about the place. Someone should probably be on watch to keep the workers from getting ambushed. (Note to self: random encounter table!)
• Getting supplies. There are also a couple of local tribes (the neanderthals avoided last week, and the aforementioned orcs) who might be amenable to negotiation. If the party were to get some higher-quality supplies from them, that would help their efforts.
• Treasure! Thos drow from the previous session came from somewhere. The party could always go a-hunting to collect that treasure.
• And then there is the small matter of some ruins...

Ultimately, I expect the process of repairing the ship to take a couple of days of work, and essentially all of tonight's session. But quite what form all of this takes... that's another question entirely.

My Latest Idea: Au Service Especial de la Reine

Lady Chocolat and I watched "Shakespeare in Love" the other day, which remains one of very few romantic comedies that I actually enjoy (because it manages the dual feats of being both romantic and funny - very few films in the genre manage either). Anyway, while watching it, LC noted that she was never a huge fan of Marlowe... and then dropped a throwaway comment that he was a spy.

Wait, I thought, what?!

So, I duly looked up Wikipedia, and sure enough there is indeed a significant body of thought that Marlowe worked for the crown, quite possibly while using his travelling acting troupe as a cover.

Now, that's just too good an adventure premise to pass up! But how to do it - after all, the Elizabethan era really isn't one I know too well, and casting the PCs as actors, complete with Shakespearean dialogue, very tight tights, and all that goes with it could well fall flat very quickly.

But a bit of history that I do know quite well is France during the reign of the Sun King, Louis XIV. Where there's all manner of plotting between Catholic France and Protestant England, between Cardinal Mazarin and the Queen Mother... and the time period between "The Three Musketeers" and "The Man in the Iron Mask".

Aha!

Oh, and very helpfully, the most recent "Three Musketeers" film (which I enjoyed in a "it's really stupid" kind of way) recast the musketeers as something of secret agents for the crown, so it's not a totally out there idea...

So...

Au Service Especial de la Reine

There is unease in France. In Paris, poverty and famine have turned grumblings into whispers of outright revolt. In the palace, insulated from this by wealth, luxury, and a total lack of empathy, a power struggle rages for influence over the young king. Agents of the Queen Mother have uncovered reports that Mazarin has arranged a meeting with representatives of the King of Spain regarding a marriage for the young Louis. Such a marriage Would spell the end of the influence enjoyed by the Queen Mother, and place Louis in the power of Mazarin. Further, these agents believe that the meetings have a second agenda: war with England - a war that France is ill-equipped to fight but that would strengthen the power of the cardinal.

The PCs are newly minted members of the King's Musketeers, placed on detached duty by their captain, D'Argtanian. Their task is to join a troupe of actors, the Cardinal's Men, and infiltrate the meetings at the Palace of Fontainbleau under their cover as the entertainment. Once there, they must determine the truth of these rumours of war, if possible sabotage the negotiations for marriage, and return with their report to D'Argtanian and the Queen Mother.

Naturally, the task will not be as easy as it seems. Along the way, the heroes will tussle with their rivals in the Cardinal's Guard, must juggle with distressed damsels and femmes fatales (who may be one and the same), and must no doubt engage in a hundred acts of derring do. And, of course, they must comport themselves at all times in a manner befitting musketeers: with wine, women, and song.

A DMing Trick: 'Tis But a Scratch!

One of the things that I have taken to doing when describing combats is to occasionally describe a specific injury that PCs have done to their opponents. For example, in a recent combat, the dwarf took a wing off one of the white dragons she was fighting.

Of course, the 3.5e rules don't actually give any scope for this: creatures have hit points same as PCs, and they're supposed to be unimpeded by raw damage until they reach 0.

But then, boiled right down D&D combat can be quite dull - the fighter and the monster square off, and they just proceed to trade Full Attack actions until one of them falls. And while 3.5e does allow for things like disarms, sunders, bull rushes, and trips, the truth is that those systems very rarely see use - the trade-off is too great unless a character is built specifically to use them (in which case, of course, he'll always use them, which isn't really any better).

I have a couple of guidelines I use:

• I only apply specific injuries to 'significant' monsters. In the example fight, I described a specific injury for the 100+ hit point dragon, but tended not to bother with the 25 hit point drow - there was little point. (Though, actually, I think there was one...)
• A specific injury tends to occur on a 'significant' blow - on a critical hit, or when the monster becomes "bloodied" (3.5e doesn't actually have the term, but it was a distinct improvement introduced in 4e. Basically, it means the monster hits half hit points).
• Because specific injuries are [i]extra[/i] effects, they are entirely under my control - PCs cannot attempt to cause one of these injuries. (Otherwise, I can see them spamming attacks on enemies' sword arms!)
• A specific injury has some (fairly minor) effect on the ongoing combat: the monster loses a movement mode, is slowed due to an injured foot, loses one of several natural attacks, or something like that.
• Specific injuries only ever apply to monsters. It's one thing for a giant to lose a limb - it's probably not going to be seen again. It's quite another for a PC to lose a limb, and thus be permanently hampered from that point onwards. Of course, games like Warhammer Fantasy Roleplay include specific injuries, and they can be quite good fun in their own right. But for me, for D&D, it's something I'd like to avoid.

Ultimately, what I'd like to see is more interesting events in combat. I'm inclined to drop some of the penalties associated with sunders, disarms, and the like so that they become more viable (and, at the same time, reduce the effectiveness of the "Improved..." feats). Indeed, I would like to introduce more scope for players to describe [i]their own[/i] special moves, rather than just picking from the pre-set four. (I'll need to dig out "The Book of Iron Might", which provides lots of guidelines for this.)

And I'd like to see some expansion of the options surrounding critical hits. At the moment, a crit is just a chance at extra damage. But what if, on scoring that nat-20, the player could decide that instead of going for the extra damage, he would instead attempt to disarm his foe (in addition to the normal damage of the attack). Indeed, there could well be a high-level feat/power (which I would call "Boom! Headshot!") where if the PC scores a threat he can go for the kill; on a confirmed crit, the target must then save or die.

(That would make the insta-kill happen on about 1% of attacks, which is rare enough to be fun and interesting, but common enough to be worthwhile. Given that the Wizard gets access to disintegrate at similar levels, I see no harm in also letting the Fighters have their save-or-dies.)

But at the moment, all of that is still work-in-progress.

Simple and Complex Characters Together

My choice of classes for Nutshell doesn't really sit right with me. To be honest, if I'm doing a D&D-replacement, I think I'll feel strange offering anything other than the normal D&D set of classes (for some version of "normal D&D set") in the game. And yet, I don't particularly like the D&D set of classes all that much!

At the same time, I was struck by Captain Ric's comment that the game doesn't really need classes at all - it would work just as well with only feats and talents, and no classes at all.

And meanwhile, WotC have been talking a lot about their new modular game, in which it should be possible to run both simple and complex characters together and have it all work - something that has been doubted on the message boards, but which is eminently doable.

And so, despite not actually having gotten it close to finished, I find myself considering the possibilities...

See, the way to build such a system is to develop the most complex version of the characters first, even if you then present the simplest iteration in print. After all, it is in the complex version that you work out all the kinks.

So, the complex version...

First, you divide the mechanical representation of characters into "what they can do" and "the numbers they use to do it". So, if they attack with a sword at +5, the "attack with a sword" is one bit, while the +5 is the other.

Next, package up all the "number bits" into neat little packages (I'll call them feats). You can either break these into roughly equally-sized chunks at a fixed cost, or you can price each individual bonus separately, with different costs. It doesn't really matter.

At the same time, package up all the "what you can do" bits into packages (I'll call them talents). And, again, you can either make the packages roughly equal and at a fixed cost, or not.

For character creation, in the most complex version, you give a PC a budget to spend on feats and a budget to spend on talents, and let them run wild. (It's important that you don't allow them to trade points between the budgets, or else the power-gamers will pick one thing to do and then throw everything else into being the best at it.)

And then, when characters level up they get additional points to spend in each budget. (You'll need to put thresholds on the maximum bonus at each level, and minimum levels at which some talents can be bought, but that's not too tough.)

(That's for the 'levelled' version, of course. For the level-less version, just give them the additional points directly. The various thresholds get increased once they've spent a certain number of points in each area.)

So, that's the complex version. To build the simple version from this, you then start grouping up feats and talents into larger packages. For example, put together "low-light vision" with "proficient with bows" and "dexterity bonus", and you get the "Elf" race package. And so on.

(Similarly, the class packages wouldn't just include some level-1 stuff - they would also spend some or all of the character's "advancement budgets" as well.)

However, the key to this is that when you package up feats and talents in this way, the cost that you pay to buy the package should be less than the total cost of the various components bought separately. So, if "elf" contains 15 points of feats and 15 points of talents, you might charge 10 points of each when bought together.

There are two reasons for this:

1. When you buy a package, chances are it won't be exactly what you want; you'll be getting some stuff you probably wouldn't have chosen if you'd bought it from the menu. So, you get a price-break for that. (Conversely, it is very important that the game not allow the swapping of feats and talents in packages. If you want a modified version, you need to buy from the menu at full price!)
2. If you buy two packages (say race and class) you may well get duplicates. And if you can only benefit from one, then you've 'wasted' some points. So, again, you get a price-break to account for this inefficiency

Of course, once you've started packaging things up, there's no reason you should only do so once. For example, you could:

• Package up seven 'classes': (human) Fighter, (human) Rogue, (human) Wizard, (human) Cleric, Elf (fighter/wizard), Dwarf (fighter), and Halfling (fighter/rogue), spending the entire char-gen and advancement budgets, to get a very simple BD&D-like game.
• Package up seven races and twelve or so classes, spending the entire char-gen and advancement budgets between them, to get an AD&D-like game.
• Package up seven races and thirteen classes, but leave some of the budget behind for additional skills and feats, thus getting a 3e-like game.
• Package up seven races and eight classes, but leave lots of budget available for additional feats and talents, thus getting a 4e-like game

And, once you've done that, characters from all four of these could be used together - along with characters built using the most complex version where they pick from the raw menu of feats and talents!

What I'm Doing With Nutshell

For now, I'm not touching it. I really want to get the various other 'books' underway before I revisit the character book. Ultimately, though, I may well give some serious thought to adopting this model, or one quite like it.

Virtual Tabletops

Two very significant things happened this week:

• Paizo announced on Saturday that they are developing a new Virtual Tabletop application. Details are scarce at this point in time, but it looks like it will be free-to-use, with the option of micropayments (or similar) in order to access maps and handouts for their Adventure Path products.
• WotC have cancelled their Virtual Tabletop, citing a general lack of interest.

Now, it's worth noting that I have never used a Virtual Tabletop. Indeed, at the present time I have absolutely no interest in a VTT - I prefer face-to-face play, and at the moment I'm involved in all the gaming that I can fit into my schedule.

But three years ago, I would have considered the VTT to be the "killer app" of WotC's DDI offering. Indeed, had they leveraged it right, that would have been the one thing that would have got me to subscribe to the DDI.

The key thing is this: three years ago, I was in a position where I had a lot more free time, I had significant interest in gaming, but had very little access to a physical group. That is, I wanted to play, I had time to play, but I wasn't at that time able to play.

What I was hoping for (and I suspect what WotC would have liked to offer) was for them to have a VTT solution where a person could go online, log in to DDI at any time of the day or night, and within 30 minutes have a party assembled and ready to go. With enough people in the DDI community, that should have been possible. Moreover, this would have meant that the more people joined the DDI community, the more valuable the subscription would become, as the more likely it would be that I could find a suitable group at a suitable time (and, indeed, been able to weed out those people I didn't want to play with).

And that's probably how they should have worked it:

• Sell the VTT software at a low cost (or even free)
• Sell access to adventure maps/handouts/etc on a micropayment basis
• Allow people to input their own maps/handouts/adventures, and make those available to all DDI subscribers
• Allow people with the VTT installed to play for free, but...
• Have DDI act as a clearing-house, enabling people to contact the other 80k+ subscribers, and thus find people to assemble adventuring parties.

Alas, it was not to be.

I fear that this bodes ill for the DDI as a whole. The current offering consists of two e-magazines (Dragon and Dungeon, each a poor shadow of their printed selves), a Character Builder (4e), a Monster Builder (4e), and a Compendium (4e). As a tool for playing 4e games, these are all extremely useful, even indispensable.

But when the time comes to move to 5e, both PCs and monsters will be significantly changed. This means that the respective Builders will no longer be useful - they would need to be rewritten almost entirely. Meanwhile, the Compendium could be repurposed, but that's only because it's basically just a database with a fancy front-end - each part of which can be redone without too much difficulty. The problem there is that the data won't remain useable, so at the very least there will be a big data-entry job to be done.

The upshot of this is that I now expect WotC to announce that there will be no DDI for 5e. Instead, they'll take the magazines free-to-view (and, alas, probably a shadow even of their current selves), and leave the 4e tools running as-is, but without any significant support or updates. In time, as the DDI subscriber numbers wane, it will cease to be even marginally profitable, at which point they'll pull the plug entirely.

How to GM Your First Adventure

I was recently reminded of this essay, which I wrote an age ago, and which I've since posted on a couple of messageboards. It's pretty old now, and even I don't agree with it 100% any more, but I do still think this is largely solid advice. Since I've dusted it off for yet another new site, I figured it would be worth posting here, too.

In case you're wondering, the essay was first written in 2005. It has since been adjusted to account for 4e, but not for either Pathfinder or 5e. And in particular, I think I'd be inclined to drop a recommendation of the Pathfinder Beginner Box down in the "Using D&D" section.

Obviously, I should note that I'm not claiming this as some sort of definitive guide on the subject. I'm sure that the other GMs will disagree with a number of the suggestions. So bear that in mind: just because I suggest something here doesn't mean it's the "one true way"!

How to GM your first game

I've been running games since 1988. Fortunately, those 24 years are reflected in the way I run games - it's a good thing I'm not still running them the way I did back then.

However, there is a problem when a new GM steps into the hot seat - he's almost guaranteed to face at least one player who knows how it's all done through years of hard-won experience. With a view to reducing some of the terror that this might cause, here are my thoughts on how a new GM should run his first few sessions...

Preparation

The cardinal rules here are as follows: prepare thoroughly, and keep it simple.

Some GMs prefer to run the game by the seat of their pants, and some just can't be bothered to prepare. However, until you know you're in one of these camps, you need to make sure you are well-prepared. Until you know you can fly blind, don't risk it.

Additionally, you may have grand dreams of an epic campaign spanning years of real-time and generations of game-time, featuring every creature in the World of Darkness and your twenty new bloodlines, but if you try that for your first game, you'll never get anywhere. Trust me - keep it simple.

Know the Rules

Whichever game you are running, you need to know the rules. And you need to know them well. Read the rulebook for the game through in its entirety, preferably twice. Ideally, sit in on a game in the same system being run by another GM, preferably one who doesn't use many house rules.

When preparing your first game, you should not use any supplements, nor should you use many house rules. It's probably best to use NO house rules at all, even those that omit published rules. While it may seem simple enough to ignore the rules for Attacks of Opportunity, there is a danger that they will affect other things, and cause you more trouble down the line. Of course, you could seek advice from an experienced GM in this regard, and find some rules that can be ignored safely, but if in doubt, use the rules as written.

It is, of course, easier to use a rules-light game for the first session than a rules-heavy game. So, Vampire rather than Rolemaster. (D&D is a bit of a special case, so I'll cover that later.)

Plotting

Keep the plot for your first game simple and iconic: "Sabbat war-ghouls have been seen at the docks, the Scourge press-gangs the PCs to deal with them.", "The Empire has built a secret new battle-station. The plans are held in a bunker on Kessel. Go steal them.", "Our researchers have found the Staff of Death in a hidden tomb. Drow raiders are currently en route, and you must beat them to it."

Prepare the first adventure to last one or two sessions. It might run short, or run long, but that doesn't really matter. Your target is just to help you work out the length of the plot. You probably want three combat encounters, two role-play encounters and one 'other' encounter per session. (Half this for D&D 4e!) The encounters should all be straight-forward, whether involving getting necessary clues, sneaking past the guard, or hitting things.

The 'other' encounters are the place where you want to let your own style come out, and are something you definately want to include. These might include a puzzle (but tread carefully here), reveal a plot-twist, or otherwise do something interesting. Just be sure to have a back-up plan in case this encounter falls flat.

For example, if your special encounter is a puzzle, you need to assign a real-time limit on it. If the players don't solve it in, say, twenty minutes, you move on. Also, make sure you have a plan for if the puzzle is solved in an unusual way. Likewise, if you're using a plot twist, make sure you plan for both the case where the players spot the twist and react accordingly, and also for the case where they either miss the twist, or just choose to ignore it.

Don't Sweat the Small Stuff

If you find you just can't remember the five hundred variations on class and race combinations that are possible, or you get dizzy looking at dots on a character sheet, or you can only think of one good role-playing encounter, don't worry about it. The target is to get a game session or two under your belt, not to beat Robert Jordan in the creation of a pointlessly-epic fantasy yarn.

Running the Game

So, you're all prepared, and the game night is scheduled. You're going to run a game, and you're terrified. Well, never mind. Here's how you're going to do it: smile, fake confidence, and bluff your way out of trouble.

Arrive First

Before leaving the house, preferably the night before, gather everything you need for the game together. Check you have everything you need. Pack it in a bag together, and make sure you have it with you when you leave the house. Arrive at the location of the game no more than an hour, and no less than ten minutes, before the game is due to start.

If possible, try to get to the location of the game before anyone else. This will give you a chance to unpack without distraction, and let you get a feel for the location. Once you've unpacked, go get a sandwich, read a book, or otherwise distract yourself. Do not drink either coffee or alcohol at this point - you neither want to be hopped up or drunk for your first session.

As the players arrive, make light conversation, but try not to discuss the game. The time for that will come.

Starting the Game

For your first game, you'll want to be using pre-generated characters. Really, I mean it.

At the start of the game, once everyone has arrived, hand out the characters. Explain that it's your first time, and ask for the group's understanding (unless they already know, of course). Explain also that you're using the core rules only, without variation, and ask for rules-chatter to be kept to a minimum. If you forget something, then you're sorry but that's life. Also, if you make a ruling, you're going to stick to it.

Ideally, the more experienced GM's in the group will then take it upon themselves to rein in the rules-lawyers in the group, unless they are the rules-lawyers. In any event, most players won't intentionally wreck the first game of a new GM, if they know it's the first game of a new GM. However, if you don't explain all these things I've stated above, they might assume you know what you're doing, and engage in their normal game-destroying antics.

(Of course, you might encounter a player who's determined to be a pain. Sadly, in that case, you're stuck. But that would apply whether it's your first game or your 100'th, and whatever you do, so that's life.)

You also probably want to explain to the group that the start of the adventure is going to be a little bit rail-roaded. Basically, they have to go on the adventure, or the whole thing falls apart. Again, the group should understand, and will get down to playing. However, be aware that you only get to do this for your first game, and you only get to do it to get the group into the adventure - once they're hunting for the Staff of Death, about to land on Kessel, or otherwise involved, they get to call the shots.

Take a Deep Breath...

The players have their characters. They've heard The Talk. They're looking at you eagerly. Time to begin.

Take a deep breath, and start to speak, slowly and clearly. "A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away..."

Seriously, take a minute to outline the situation at the start of the adventure. Then describe the initial situation in front of the players, and ask them what they do. And take it from there.

During the Game

During the game, you're mostly on your own. Once you've started, you should be fine. Try to keep the pace up, if things slow down have a bunch of Stormtroopers/Sabbat ghouls/Drow kick in the door. And don't worry about things - you are doing fine.

If a rules question comes up, just make something up. Want to sneak past the Drow? Probably a Stealth roll. Go for a DC of 20, that's usually a good number. Really, if you don't just know the answer, and none of the players can supply it off-hand, then who cares whether you get it right? Just choose something that sounds right.

If there's a rules dispute, you have three options. Option one is to ask the most experienced GM around the table for his opinion, and go with that. You get to do that once. Option two is to pause the game, check the rulebook, and use that. This is fine, but hurts the game every time you do it.

The best option is option three: Make a ruling, and stick to it. As long as it sounds good, who cares whether it's a Bluff or Perform check to play dead? If in doubt, favour the outcome that's least likely to kill a PC.

If you are faced with a player being a nuisance, you have a problem, probably the only serious problem you can possibly face. He might insist that his interpretation of the rules is correct, regardless of what you say. He might insist on his character going off alone, or not going on the adventure. Or he might instigate PC-vs-PC conflict (which is a sure sign of a nuisance player in a GM's first game, by the way - such things are fine normally, but not for the GM's first game).

There is no one true way to deal with a nuisance player. You just have to keep your cool, and stick to your guns. If it's a rule call, make your decision and don't back down. Even if he points to the rule in the book - it's your game, and you've made your decision. If he refuses to go on the adventure, ignore him. If he insists on splitting the party, do your best to improvise. If he instigates PC-vs-PC problems, let the players deal with him. Try to minimise his disruption, and move on.

Faking Confidence

So, you're absolutely terrified, but you have to appear confident. How does one achieve this goal?

Well, this is where your preparation shows its value. Since you know the rules, you can make judgements, secure in the knowledge that you know what you're doing. Since you know the plot, you can move it forward confidently.

Two other things to remember: it is more important for something to sound good than to be right. So, make a judgement that sounds about right, and you won't have any problems. Secondly, if you keep things moving, you won't have time to be nervous. Keep the plot light and fast-paced. If it bogs down, do something to speed it up again. And if you do this, a good time will be had by all. And that's really the trick, isn't it?

If it All Goes Horribly Wrong

You planned a great set of set-piece battles, followed by the revalation that the Scourge was working for the Sabbat all along, then a battle against the Scourge. Unfortunately, you overestimated the capabilities of the PCs, and they were all just killed by the wheelchair-bound octagenarian with her umbrella. Or you forgot that one PC could dominate the Scourge, and said PC commanded him: "Tell me the truth - you're working for them, aren't you?"

Well, shit happens. Laugh it off, and don't make the same mistake next time.

After the Game

Take in the character sheets, and start preparing for the next game. Now you're a GM, you never get to quit.

Try to think of three things that you did well in the game, and three things you would have done differently. Next time, emphasise the good, and do the other things differently. If you made a mistake, admit it and learn from it. It's really no big deal.

In the unlikely event that you offended anyone, apologise, and claim you were under a lot of stress, and were acting like a fool. They will understand.

If you had any experienced GMs in the group, take some time to ask what they thought, and what they might have done differently. Typically, they will know a few tricks you don't, and they should be willing to offer advice.

And that's about it.

Using D&D

There's no denying that D&D (3e or 4e) is a very complex game, which would normally make it a very poor choice for a first game. However, there are a few factors that can change that assessment:

1. Pre-generated worlds/adventures. If you don't need to create a setting for the adventure, or don't need to create an adventure, much of your preparation becomes easier.
2. DM tools. The CR system in D&D 3e is quite complex, but it is also extremely useful. Likewise the encounter-building rules in 4e (which are considerably better). If you build a normal D&D party of 4th level, then following guidelines will amost always give you an encounter that works, at the very least. This is extremely useful, especially when compared with games like Vampire, where it can be hard to work out just how tough your Brujah thug should be.
3. Familiarity. Almost every gamer knows D&D, at least a bit. And you probably already know most of the rules, so why not use that?
4. The D&D Red Box is intended for novice players. You might well find this a useful way to get into running games.

Ultimately, for a first adventure, I would almost certainly recommend Vampire (the Masquerade), Star Wars (d6) or Warhammer Fantasy Roleplay (2nd Edition). However, since none of these is actually in print, you may prefer to go with what you know.

A Falling Mechanic

In Tuesday's game, one of the characters was snatched by a flying dragon, dragged off the airship, and then dropped (actually due to the dragon taking damage, but that just played into my hands, since the dragons was going to drop the character anyway...). The airship was at the time flying an unknown (but very large) distance above the ground - and of course the ground was itself not exactly level.

So, how to handle this?

I think the mechanism I used was about the right one - rather than calculate an exact distance to the ground, I used an ever-increasing chance that the character would hit bottom this round. When the character hit bottom, she would have suffered 20d6 damage (and probably died).

Had the fall been less than 200 feet, the character would have hit bottom in 1 round, and taken damage based on the exact distance fallen. That wasn't the case here.

In the second round of the fall, just before the character took her actions, I rolled 1d12. Had this come up a '1', she would have hit the ground and taken 20d6 damage. That didn't happen.

In the third round of the fall, I rolled 1d10, then 1d8... I would have kept rolling a constantly reducing die type until either I rolled a '1' or I reached 1d3, at which point I would have stuck there until a '1' came up. As it happened, Jag used a dimension door after a couple of rounds, and so took herself out of trouble.

As I said, I think that was about the right mechanic - neither Jag nor I really knew how high she actually was when she started the fall, nor could this easily be judged due to the weather conditions. So, either I picked a fixed number of rounds, or I went with a random mechanic. And the mechanic used was quick, simple, and would have given ballpark-right results. So I'm reasonably happy with that.

The only thing I maybe should have changed - start with a smaller die type!

(I've run the numbers in Excel. It appears that starting with d12, there's an 8% chance of hitting in round 2, 18% by round 3, then 28%, 40%, 55%, 70%, 80%, 87%, 91%, 94%, 96%, 97%, 98%, 99%... That is, you cross the 50% threshold at round 6.

Starting with d10, the percentages become 10%, 21%, 34%, 51%, 67%, 78%, 85%, 90%, 94%, 96%, 97%, 98%, 99%... The 50% threshold is crossed at round 5.

Starting with d8: 13%, 27%, 45%, 64%, 76%, 84%, 89%, 93%, 95%, 97%, 98%, 99%... The 50% threshold occurs at round 5.

Starting with d6: 17%, 38%, 58%, 72%, 81%, 88%, 92%, 95%, 96%, 98%, 98%, 99%... The 50% threshold is at round 4.

Starting with d4: 25%, 50%, 67%, 78%, 85%, 90%, 93%, 96%, 97%, 98%, 99%. As can be seen, the thresold is reached at round 3 exactly.

And starting with the dread d3: 33% 56%, 70%, 80%, 87%, 91%, 94%, 96%, 97%, 98%, 99%... Meaning that the threshold is reached and exceeded at round 3.)

Oh, and of course, this is just a variant on 4e's recharge mechanic for monster powers. The difference is that they use both a fixed d6 and a fixed recharge value. The probabilities are therefore a bit more predictable in 4e. I'm not sure that's a bad thing.

Interesting Choices

To a very large extent, I believe what makes for a good RPG adventure (and, writ large, campaign) is the players making interesting choices for their characters.

(Of course, the majority of the fun of the RPG itself comes from the people around the table and the manner in which they bounce off one another. But that's not something that the game can really do anything about, and while a good group can have fun with a bad adventure, and while a bad group won't even have fun with a good adventure, there's still merit in having good adventures, is there not? Anyway, I digress...)

The thing is, it is by making choices that the PCs influence the plot - do they ally with the elves against the dwarves, with the dwarves against the elves, stay neutral, or try something else? The adventure should play out very differently in each case.

So, what is an interesting choice?

As far as I can see, an interesting choice requires three things:

• Choice
• Context
• Consequences

Choice

The most obvious thing that an interesting choice requires is, of course, choice. And by this, I don't just mean "the illusion of choice". There have to be at least two (preferably more) sensible answers to the question.

To give a simple, real-life example: when travelling from my parents' house to my appartment, there are many different routes. I can follow the M876 to the M9, and come into Falkirk from the East, I can leave the M876 at the first junction and make my way through Camelon and Falkirk from the West, I can take the back roads through Bonnybridge... These all have the same start and end points, but the routes are difference - this is a real choice.

Conversely, "death or cake" isn't a real choice. There's only one sensible answer: everybody will take cake. The only reason they would do otherwise is if they think it's a trick question... but then the real choice is "do I trust this guy?"

Neither is Hobson's choice a real choice. "You need to get from Glasgow to Edinburgh in an hour. You can take the car, bus, train, walk, horse, bicycle, build a hovercraft... Of course, the bus and train timetables don't sync up, and the other modes are too slow... I guess you'll be taking the car, then?"

(This all seems to obvious that I'm actually having a hard time coming up with good examples. And yet published adventures still fail - in the "Transylvania Chronicles" for Vampire, for example, the PCs quite frequently become mere spectators to Vampire history - if they do X, Y happens. If they do anything other than X, they fail... and Y happens.)

Context

Once upon a time, I made an appointment to see my dentist, and was told she was currently on maternity leave. I was also told that two other dentists were sharing her caseload between them, one male and one female. I was then asked which I would prefer to see.

That's a choice... but it's not an interesting choice. The only data I had on which to base my decision was utterly irrelevant to the choice itself - for all I knew, the male dentist could have been the single greatest practitioner of his art... or he could have scraped by with a minimal pass. Exactly the same was true of the female dentist.

(In case you really want to know, I saw the female dentist, purely because she was the first one mentioned. She did a decent but unremarkable job... which is probably the best possible outcome.)

"You come to a T-junction. Do you go left or right?" is, again, a choice. But without some sort of context, the choice is actually meaningless. Might as well toss a coin.

So, the players need some sort of context in which to make the decision. They need information!

But that doesn't mean they should automatically be given that information, nor indeed that they should be given all the information. Indeed, in many cases the most interesting choice comes where the players have only incomplete information and they know they don't have all the information.

For example, suppose the PCs are bounty hunters on the trail of their quarry. They are accompanied by a guide of dubious reliability (Meepo). "You come to a T-junction. To the left, thick spider webs cross the corridor, indicating that it is undisturbed. To the right, the webs have been hacked aside with a thick blade. However, Meepo indicates that the corridor to the left, although infested with dangerous spiders, is a much quicker route to the centre of the complex. Do you go left or right?"

See, that's an interesting choice - the safe option is to follow their target to the right. But that's likely slower. To the left, they face greater dangers, but it's quicker... if Meepo is to be trusted.

(And another example came up in last night's game - the party were seeking information about the source of the aurora, their guide indicated two local tribes that might be able to help, one of which had dropped out of contact while the other was unreliable but more likely to actually know. What do you do? The answer, in reality, was "have a twenty-minute discussion about our options". Which was pretty awesome. I really enjoyed last night's game.)

Consequences

So, the party goes left at the T-junction. At which point the DM, who's secretly making this all up as he goes, has them run into a room of orcs, and a fight breaks out.

Or, the party goes right. At which point the DM, who's secretly making this all up as he goes, has them run into a room of orcs, and a fight breaks out.

The players were given a choice. They may even have been given enough context to make that choice and to give the choice meaning. But that meaning has now been stripped away from the choice just as quickly, because in the end it just doesn't matter.

For a choice to be interesting it must be meaningful, and that means it must have real consequences. Even if those are merely the consequence of the road not taken - with D&D's choice of character class being the obvious example.

Now, not all consequences are equal. And in general, the greater the consequences the more meaningful the decision. Ideally, an interesting choice should have both positive and negative consequences for each option, and the players should be aware of many but not all of the consequences of their actions when they make the choice.

Returning to the example of the bounty hunters above... If the PCs take the safe option, then they know about four consequences: they avoid the danger of the spiders (+ve), they don't risk Meepo's betrayal (+ve), they don't risk losing the trail (+ve), but it will be slower (-ve). They don't know about the traps that their quarry has set (-ve), nor about the magic item in the complex that their target will beat them to, making the final showdown harder (-ve).

Alternately, if they take the risky option, the know about one consequence, can speculate on a couple of others, and don't know about a few more. They know there's greater danger (-ve). They suspect it's quicker (+ve). They suspect Meepo might betray them (see below). They don't know that Meepo isn't going to betray them, and in fact by showing him trust they'll turn him into a genuine ally (+ve). They don't know about the magic item, which they're now going to get to first (+ve).

Now, in full possession of the facts, it's reasonably clear that the risky route is probably the safe one. (But even so, it's only probable - the spiders are poisonous, after all!) But there's still no definitively right answer. More importantly, the consequences are distinctly different in each case - spiders vs traps and a harder showdown at the end.

Other Thoughts

When setting up a choice, it's generally best to offer a few, clear, distinct options. "Do you do A, B or C?" Give too many choices, and the whole thing takes too long to set up, becomes too complex, or can paralyse the group with indecision.

At the same time, it's important that there be scope for the PCs to do "something else". Perhaps they decide instead to set a fire and try to smoke their bounty out of the complex, bypassing the spiders and the traps entirely. Perhaps they just chart a course blindly North, and don't consult with either of the two tribes.

Very often, the consequence of offering interesting choices is that the party will simply skip some encounters. There's no getting around it - the GM will have to prepare more material than he actually needs. GM's should always be keen recyclers!

(Conversely, not every encounter needs to be bypass-able, at least within the scope of the adventure itself. In last night's game, whatever happened the party would have had to sail North through the mountains, which means they would have been attacked by drow for the big centrepiece battle. The only ways to avoid this would have been to abandon the voyage or to wait out the storm - both viable options, but both would effectively mean quitting the current adventure and doing something else. Now, if they'd decided to do that, then I'd have frantically ad-libbed something to move the campaign in another direction. Fortunately, I was reasonably certain that that wasn't going to happen.)

Drow Ninja!

The centrepiece of yesterday's game was an epic battle between the party and a raiding party of drow and their enslaved white dragons. It took about two hours out of our three-hour game session, but I certainly felt everyone was having fun throughout. Certainly, I was having a lot of fun.

One of the things that particularly amused me about this combat was that the last time I used these particular monsters, against a party of 6 PCs, the party were quickly overwhelmed and the game ended with a TPK. Conversely, in last night's game there were four PCs (plus some presence from the Wizard, despite his player being absent), and yet only the most minimal damage was incurred.

Of course, there were a couple of factors for this. The first, and most obvious, was that my luck was truly woeful for most of last night. The only PC who was regularly hit was the Wizard, and he was protected by stoneskin. The second was that the party operated as a somewhat coherent group, splitting the drow up, moving them around, and then finishing them off. The third is that this party is a slightly higher level than their predecessors, which makes a bigger difference than I had thought. And the fourth is that the party took the time to make full use of their spells and other abilities before charging into combat. (These are not necessarily in order, by the way.)

I think part of the reason I found this encounter so satisfying was that when I constructed it I paid attention to several lessons I learned from 4e encounter design. To whit:

• The encounter took place on the decks of an elemental airship, in the midst of a blizzard. Although the environment maybe didn't come up as often as it could, it did still allow for characters slipping and sliding over the place, for people to fall over the side, for one PC to bull-rush one of the drow over the edge, and for that same PC to be grabbed and carried off by a dragon.
• Speaking of the dragon... rather than having a single group of homogenous monsters (six drow ninja), I also included a couple of white dragons. This made sense in the story, but it also meant that the combat was more interesting - as well as the fairly statuc drow, the party also had to contend with the flying (and flyby-attacking) dragons. (Naturally, the PC with the flying mount wasn't present for that session. Shame that.)
• The combat had goals beyond "kill the enemy". The major goal of the drow was to bring down the elemental airship, by using dragon breath on the hull, by turning the airship's lightning projector against the elemental ring, and so on.
• And, equally, the encounter featured terrain features that the PCs could use to their advantage. Specifically, Mondo and Urylth each made use of one of the ship's ballistae (before it was destroyed), doing significant damage to one of the dragons.

All in all, I feel that the encounter was a massive success. Unfortunately, that means that I've now set a new battle for the big set-piece battles in this campaign. Now I'll need to come up with something special for when the party catch up with the Dragon Below Cultists...

Skill Challenges

Possibly the biggest new mechanic introduced in 4e was the Skill Challenge, which was essentially an extended skill check. The idea was that the party was presented with a challenge (build a temple, climb a mountain, persuade the duke to help...) and they had to use their skills to do so. There were two key features of skill challenges that were maybe not obvious: firstly, they had to accumulate a number of successes before scoring a number of failures (normally 6 before 3, or 4 before 3, or something before 3...); and secondly that every PC had to at least try to contribute - if the brutish barbarian just hid at the back and didn't contribute to the diplomatic scene, that would count as an auto-fail.

Conceptually, I loved Skill Challenges. I thought they were absolutely great, and proceeded to make use of them in several different campaigns - SWSE, D&D 3.5e, even Serenity.

And in actual use, Skill Challenges fell flat. They were a complete and utter failure.

There were four key issues that seemed to cause problems, the first two of which I should really have forseen:

1. Characters who had an obvious skill they could contribute would do so. And then they'd use the same skill, again and again. Which got really dull, really quickly.
2. Characters who didn't have an obvious skill they could contribute would cast about helplessly, looking for something they could do that would at least negate that "auto-fail" thing.
3. Establishing the structure of the Skill Challenge was easy, but establishing the structure of the scene, and especially the changes in the scene as the challenge went on, was still just as difficult as before. Indeed...
4. Imposing the artificial game construct of the Skill Challenge on very disparate scenes (construction, mountaineering, diplomacy) tended to make the game very homogenous. Rather than scenes coming to a natural conclusion, possibly as the PCs work across several rounds* of rolling, the scene often became just a mechanical matter of throwing the dice and moving on.

* That's "round" as in "once round the table", not "round" as in "6 seconds".

I don't really have a good solution to this. In fact, I'd go further and say that I don't think there exists a good solution to this. Instead, I'm inclined to think that the Skill Challenge mechanics are a noble effort, but that they're trying to impose one solution on too many problems. Instead, I'm inclined to think that the Skill Challenge mechanics should be gutted with a knife, cut into little pieces, and then stitched back together to provide the solution to whichever particular problem the DM is dealing with at the time.

For example, for the "Repairing the Ship" Skill Challenge (spoiler!) each watch will represent 4 hours of work. There will be several roles: motivating the crew, mucking in with the work, security, using diplomacy to have the locals provide supplies, and whatever else I come up with. With each round, each PC will be able to perform one of these roles (actually, they'll be assumed to be working on any and all appropriate ones, but one will be dominant), make the appropriate roll, and then some sort of Magnitude check. For each 4 hour watch, the crew (and PCs) will suffer some sort of environmental consequence, and also run the risk of a random encounter.

What I'll need to do is to determine what amounts of progress represent which repairs (there's the elemental ring, the hull, the lightning projector, and the ballistae... plus any improvements Mondo decides to make). That done, the players will then get to decide how much work represents 'enough', at which point they can abandon the work and continue on their way.

I'll get back to you on how that works out...

Fighting Styles

Ignoring unarmed combat for the moment, there are broadly speaking four possible fighting styles a character can adopt in melee, depending on what he has in his 'off' hand:

• Single-weapon style - the character has an empty hand.
• Sword-and-shield style - the character has a one-handed weapon and a shield.
• Two-handed weapon style - the character is using a single two-handed weapon.
• Two-weapon style - the character has a weapon in each hand

Now, of these four, the first is clearly inferior. The only thing it really has to offer is versatility, in that the character can use his off hand for, well, whatever comes up. But other than a potential (minor) defensive boost gained by turning flank-on to his opponents, there's not a lot to recommend that style.

Which is fine, IMO.

However, ideally, the other three styles should ideally be roughly balanced. (Though it's worth noting - if a character invests feats/powers/whatever in a given style, then it's fair for that style to be strictly better than the alternatives.)

Now, it's pretty obvious what sword-and-shield style offers - the character gains defensive bonuses as a result of carrying that shield. And the game reflects that neatly, as the character has a higher AC and can use the "Shields Shall be Splintered" rule.

Likewise, it's pretty obvious what two-handed weapon style offers - the character gains offensive bonuses as a result of using heavy weapons. And the game also reflects that, in the higher damage offered by two-handed weapons (1d8 for a longsword vs 1d12 for a greatsword).

But two-weapon style...

My current thinking is that the benefit of two-weapon style is versatility - the player can choose whether to use those two weapons defensively or offensively, potentially switching each round on his turn. And, of course, neither approach should be quite as good as the corresponding "pure" style. So, when used defensively, the character gains a single attack at a -2 penalty, but gains a +1 bonus to AC.

Conversely, when fighting offensively, the character gets two attempts to land a single blow. That is, the character makes two attacks (at his better attack bonus, with a -2 penalty). If either or both of these rolls indicates a hit, then the character has landed a blow. At this point, he can choose which weapon actually hit, and roll damage accordingly. (But it's important to note that this is not the same as having advantage on every attack - I expect Sneak Attack to trigger on advantage, and don't want TWF to become a no-brainer choice for every Rogue!)

Of course, it's entirely likely that the game will also have a bunch of talents that apply to the different styles, or apply to the styles differently. But that's for another day...

Masterwork and Magic Items

One of the great advantages of codifying up the benefits and drawbacks of weapons is that it opens up a possibility that wasn't previously present: instead of a masterwork item giving a flat +1 bonus to hit, why not have it either give the weapon one additional benefit or remove one of the drawbacks? For example, perhaps a masterwork light crossbow could be crafted so it doesn't require a move action to reload? Or a masterwork throwing dagger could be balanced to fly further?

At the moment, that's not moved beyond the 'noodling' stage, as I'm a bit concerned that it might be more hassle than it's worth - a flat 1-step improvement in damage may be the best option for all weapons.

However, one thing that I am quite certain of - the bonuses that a character applies to his attack rolls, skill checks, and defences (and anything else I've forgotten) should come from the character and not from his equipment (armour being the one and only exception).

This means, in particular, that the long sword +1 may exist, but if so it will give a bonus to damage only, and not on attack rolls. (Even there, my inclination is for such a weapon to grant a step increase in damage, or add extra damage dice, rather than give a flat bonus.)

(The reason for this is to do with bonus escalation - it's much easier to rebalance for a weapon that does extra damage, even lots of extra damage, rather than one that hits more often. In the latter case, you quickly reach a point where characters must have such items or they can't tackle 'appropriate' monsters. And that's no fun for anyone, no matter how you slice it.)

I'm also inclined to think that the 3e DMG missed out two crucial rules, that would have made the game much more interesting:

1. Magic weapons with special properties must balance the property with the raw plus, when initially created. If desired, the plus can then be increased.
2. Magic weapons can only ever have one special property. In some cases, it's possible to upgrade from one property to a related, better version, but otherwise the weapon remains as it was when first created.

This would, of course, eliminate that dreaded +1 flaming holy longsword, bane vs evil outsiders that I've mentioned before, since it has three distinct properties. It would also constrain the upgrade path - in order to create a holy sword, you would first need to make a sword +1, then a sword +2, then a holy sword +2, and then you could apply further upgrades to the plus as desired.

The Nutshell equivalent of this would be to have various weapon qualities: Damaging (the 'raw plus'), Flaming, Frost, Keen, etc. Weapons could then have up to two of these - Damaging plus one other, and would be required to keep the two in balance as far as possible.

But to a large extent, that's still very much up in the air. Magic items are tied very tightly to Artifice (and the related Signature Items), which is an area I've thought about but not yet had any good ideas about.

Death to Magic Missile!

The Wizard is supposed to be a master of arcane and eldritch energies, the weilder of the mysteries of the unknown.

When he casts magic missile, he basically zaps his opponents. It may be an iconic spell, it certainly is a useful spell. But it really, really sucks!

And as for giving 4e Wizards an at-will magic missile...

Firstly, it's hugely unbalanced against the crossbow - now the Wizard has an at-will power that does comparable or greater damage, never runs out of ammo, and always hits? Yeah, that's a good idea! Secondly, it takes the incredible dullness of the 'regular' magic missile and turns it way, way up.

(And yeah, I had great fun with Malewrath's magic missile. But I daresay the rest of the party weren't too pleased when I stole all the kills. And Malewrath was a totally broken character, as well - both because I luckily chose all the best powers, and because I hit a lucky streak on the dice. Inconceivable, I know, but it actually happened.)

Of course, having rejected magic missile, I now have to come up with a better solution...

About Armour

Just as with weapons, D&D has a long tradition of having lovingly-detailed armour lists, and an equally long tradition of players ignoring almost all of these options in favour of a handful of "best" options. And, as with weapons, that's rather pointless - if there are a sixteen options and nobody uses more than about 4, then those other 12 are just taking up space, space that can be better used for something else.

So, what to do about armour?

Benefits and Drawbacks

The obvious thing to do would be to generate a base set of stats for each of the three levels of armour, and then create some benefits and drawbacks for different armours within those categories.

However, in my experience, players consider one (maybe two) things when selecting armour: what AC does this armour give? Any and all other considerations are irrelevant next to how well the armour will protect them from getting hit.

(The other consideration applies to specific characters. Players of rogues will seek out the best armour that doesn't impact their skills - masterwork studded leather or mithral shirts. Bards, in 3.5e, will seek out the best armour that allows them to cast their spells without risk of failure - coincidentally, that same mithral shirt. And so on. Basically, characters will seek armour that does not impact on their other abilities. But, having restricted their choices accordingly, they'll then go for the best total AC, and only the best total AC, that results.)

So, I'm inclined not to bother with benefits and drawbacks for armour. I'm inclined to think they're more hassle that they're worth.

(Now, that said, if there were benefits and drawbacks that did something other than affect AC or skill penalties...)

AC, Dex bonus, and DR

Prior to 3e, D&D armours always granted the character the full use of his Dex bonus to AC. If you were wearing full plate, it was assumed that your greater Dex resulted in you angling the plates to best deflect incoming blows. With 3e of course, limits were placed on how much of a Dex bonus could be applied to AC when wearing each armour. 4e then simplified this - Light armour granted Dex (or Int!) bonus, while Heavy armour did not. (And 5e is marginally more complex again...)

Meanwhile, other games, and optional rules in 3e, allowed for the possibility that armour would not make the character harder to hit but instead would reduce the damage - either with a damage save (the warhammer wargames), damage reduction (WFRP, Star Wars d20 1st Ed), or by adding soak dice (Vampire).

Now, in principle, armour providing damage reduction is indeed the correct solution. In fact, it's likely that armour should actually make the character both harder to hit and reduce the damage taken - full plate armour likely negates a lot of blows entirely, and probably makes a lot of others much less bad.

In practice, Armour as DR sucks. As implemented in 3e (in Unearthed Arcana) it is almost entirely worthless, as characters are now much easier to hit, Fighters use two-handed weapons and maximum Power Attack, and the extra damage just effortlessly burns through any protection from the armour.

Or there's the counter case, where a creature is still hard to hit, you finally manage to land a blow... only to see the DR negate all (or almost all) the damage. Which really sucks.

Finally, allowing Armour as DR then opens up the possibility of armour piercing weapons, which adds a new level of complexity to the game - you roll to hit, you roll damage, you then subtract AP from DR, and then subtract DR from damage...

The bottom line: Armour as DR is, in principle, the right solution... but Armour as AC is the simpler one.

I've also tentatively decided against applying Dex bonuses to AC, except for characters with the "Unarmoured Fighting" feat (which wasn't listed in my previous post on feats :) ). The major reason for this is that I want all a character's defences to be roughly on a par. If Reflex equals half level + class bonus + Dex bonus, and AC equals half level + armour bonus + Dex bonus, then the armour bonuses need to be trivially small, to the point where they're just not worth bothering with.

Proficient and Non-proficient Use

Back when I talked about feats, Captain Ric raised the very valid question of whether it was really right that non-proficient characters get no benefit from wearing armour. Which is fair enough. Coupled with my adjusted thinking on AC, I'm inclined to give all armours a nominal bonus, with higher bonuses for proficient use. To whit:
Light: Proficient +3, Non-proficient +1
Medium: Proficient +5, Non-proficient +2
Heavy: Proficient +7, Non-proficient +3
Light Shield: Proficient +1, Non-proficient +0
Heavy Shield: Proficient +2, Non-proficient +1

Shields Shall Be Splintered

A proficient character carrying a shield, who is subject to a physical attack and who is not surprised, may choose to use his shield to negate the attack. This may be done at any time - before the attack roll, after the attack roll but before the damage roll, or even after the damage roll.

If the character chooses to negate an attack in this manner, his shield is destroyed and can no longer be used.

A character who carries several shields, or who has another character carry them for him, may not use the "Shields Shall Be Splintered" rule. The gods delight in heroes, and so are willing to spare your life in this manner, but if tested they will tire of your presumption and strike you down!

So, then, the armours...

In each grade, there will be four armours, one of each of four types (Leather, Chain, Plate, Composite). In each case, the armours will have exactly the same stats - they give the same AC bonuses, the same Armour Check Penalties, have the same encumbrance. Additionally, with the exception of the composite armours, they'll cost the same. (Composite armours will cost slightly less.)

The key differentiator between the armour types comes when they are made magical - each of the types accept different magical enhancements, so you can get Fortified Plate armours, but not Fortified Chain armours, and so on. Composite armour cannot be made magical (or masterwork, for that matter).

Speaking of masterwork armours, I'm inclined to stick with the 3e model - masterwork armour reduces the ACP by one step, to a minimum of 0. One key difference with 3e, though: armour need not be masterwork before it can be made magical.

The Adventurer's Kit

With 4e, D&D introduced a standard "Adventurer's Kit" for PCs - a backpack, bedroll, flint & steel, belt pouch, two sunrods*, ten days of trail rations, 50 ft hemp rope, and a waterskin. Of course, that's not a terribly new idea - back when I was with my old group, it was standard for the players to simply write "the usual shite" on their character sheet, to denote that they were carrying... well, more or less this same stuff.

* And these are pretty terrible, too, but that's another rant.

And it's fine as far as it goes, but this also marks one of my key issues with the way equipment is handled in the modern iterations of the game.

Specifically, it should matter what equipment, specifically, the characters are carrying. And if it doesn't matter, and it's not going to matter, then the matter should just be ignored - don't even bother with an "Adventurer's Kit" or "the usual shite" - if they need it, they have it.

I think that what has happened, broadly speaking, is that a lot of people started the game with the old-school dungeon crawl as their guide, and started with the notion that they needed this stuff - yes, you might need chalk, or iron spikes, or... And so, when creating their character, they make sure to equip all that stuff. (And with the encumbrance rules becoming ever-more generous, why not?)

Meanwhile, the game has moved forward from that place. I would like to say it's progress, but I'm really not sure that the math-fest of 3e or the chain-of-combats that is 4e really qualifies. Anyway, over time the game has gradually dropped any situation where chalk or iron spikes might prove useful - and anyway, groups have grown used to just assuming all that stuff.

The net effect was that players spend a lot of time in character creation poring over a long list of equipment for their character's adventures, make sure to lovingly detail his equipment list... and then never look at it again.

Now, there are two ways that we can go with this. The first is to take the view that this is an adventure game, that the characters are Big Damn Heroes on epic quests to defeat legendary bad guys, and they just don't have time to worry about the minutae of whether they have chalk. (I mean, chalk! The very thought!) That's largely the direction that 4e has taken.

The other option is to make equipment matter. Now, this is actually an adventure-design issue. Dungeons need to be designed with challenges other than pure combat - adventures need to include mazes (hence the need for chalk, to mark where you've been), sheer drops that need to be traversed (rope), doors and pits that need to be wedged open or closed (iron spikes), and so on. And, since the key goal is actually to provoke "interesting choices", the encumbrance rules (yes, again) need to be made much tighter - if the PCs can just carry anything and everything they need, and they can afford to buy anything and everything they need (which, by the second adventure, they can), then there's no point - just handwave everything.

Now, I'm not actually sure whether it would improve the game to come back to a more old school aesthetic in this manner (and, actually, go even further than the old school). But I certainly don't find the current no man's land terribly satisfying.

About Weapons

D&D has a long history of having long, lovingly-detailed lists of weapons. It has an equally long history of players proceeding to ignore 90% of these weapons in favour of a handful of old standbys - which tend to be the best weapons in any case.

Naturally, that's rather a waste of time and energy for all concerned.

With 3e, the designers went to some considerable time and trouble to develop and use a complex set of formulae to determine weapon capabilities. Unfortunately, they appear not to have ever written these down - even as early as the very first 3e supplement, WotC introduced a bunch of new weapons that were clearly superior to the rest. (And, actually, even in the PHB there were some 'errors' - the dagger, for example, is actually more powerful than it should be.)

3e also had the problem of introducing the Exotic weapons, which caused a great deal of controversy - things like the Spiked Chain and Double-bladed Sword fell foul of purists who noted that such weapons were clearly absurd. (Although, that said, see "Kill Bill" for an example of the spiked chain in use. WotC's picture is absurd, but the weapon isn't entirely stupid.)

For Nutshell, a lot of the complexity associated with 3e weapons automatically ceases to apply. Given that critical hits only occur on a nat-20, one means of differentiating weapons is removed. Likewise, weapon damage types no longer exist. And since ranged weapons now always add the character's Dex mod, one of the key differences between the crossbow and the sling no longer applies.

And so, Nutshell will have relatively few weapons with relatively similar statistics - the difference between a swordsman and an axeman will lie in the other powers they choose to take. (That said, it is also my intent to limit certain magic item properties to specific weapon groups, so it won't be an entirely meaningless choice.)

Simple, Martial, and Custom Weapons

Simple weapons will be those which are simple in both construction and use. This category will include most converted farm implements, primitive weaponry, improvised weapons, and shield bashes. All characters can use simple weapons without penalty; conversely, you cannot apply the Weapon Focus or Specialisation feats to simple weapons, nor can they be enchanted as magic weapons. Simple weapons are also marked out by the fact that they cause damage, and nothing else - the various special effects available to other weapon types generally don't apply to simple weapons.

Martial weapons are, of course, those constructed specifically for war. Swords, spears, axes, maces and flails, lances, bows, and the multitude of polearms are all martial weapons. Basically, if you think of it as a weapon, then it's probably martial. Weapon Proficiency, Focus, and Specialisation all apply to martial weapons, martial weapons can be enchanted to become magical weapons, and martial weapons may include all manner of special effects in addition to pure damage.

Custom weapons are those that are constructed for use by a specific character, or those weird and wonderful martial arts weapons used by dedicated practitioners. Custom weapons require their own category of Proficiency, Focus, and Specialisation, and are typically constructed to make use of several of the special effects available to weapon users. Magical custom weapons are seldom found, and so the user of such a weapon should consider taking some of the Signature Item talents to enhance his chosen weapon or weapons.

(Note: Custom weapons represent an evolution in my thinking on weapon types. For now, think of them as replacing Exotic weapons in the game. However, the key feature of custom weapons over exotic weapons is that typically the player will define his own custom weapon, rather than choosing one from a list.)

Weapon Base Damage

Weapons cause base damage based on their size, as follows:
Light: 1d4
Medium: 1d6
Heavy: 1d8

Weapons are then adjusted by selecting weapon traits, which can either be benefits or drawbacks. A weapon with a drawback can have an additional benefit. Simple weapons gain no free benefits (and can select from only a very small list), Martial weapons gain 2 free benefits, and Custom weapons gain 4 free benefits.

Traits that can be applied to Simple weapons are marked "Simple" below. Traits that can only be applied to Custom weapons are marked "Custom" below.

The weapon traits are as follows:

Limited Ammo (Drawback): Weapons of this type require custom-built ammunition (arrows, bolts, etc) that can be purchased in any town (or indeed constructed by the character), but which cannot be easily scavenged. Once used, the ammunition is expended. If the character runs out of ammo, the weapon becomes useless.

Slow Reload (Drawback): Once fired, this weapon must be reloaded before it can be used again. This drawback can be applied up to three times: once for a Move action to reload, once for a Standard action to reload, and once for two Standard actions to reload.

Reduced Damage (Drawback): This weapon applies a 1-step penalty to damage rolls. It can be applied any number of times, reducing the damage to a minimum of 1d3.

Ranged (Benefit, Simple): This weapon can be used at range. This benefit can be applied up to twice: once for short-range use (a 10ft range increment, up to 5 increments), and once for long-range use (a 30ft range increment, up to 10 increments).

Hybrid (Benefit, Simple): This weapon can be used both as a melee weapon and as a thrown weapon. Weapons with this benefit must also have the ranged benefit.

Finesse (Special): Weapons with this trait may be used with the Weapon Finesse feat. This trait is neither a benefit nor a hindrance; it is freely applied to some weapons. Medium characters consider all Light weapons to have the Finesse trait. Additionally, specific Martial and Custom Medium weapons and Custom Heavy weapons may have the trait applied. For Small characters, no weapons are automatically considered Finesse weapons; however, specific Martial and Custom Light and Custom Medium weapons may have the trait applied. Applying the Finesse trait to a weapon reduces the maximum number of "Increased Damage" traits allowed by one, to a maximum of zero.

Increased Damage (Benefit): Weapons with this trait increase their damage by one step. This trait may be applied once to Martial weapons and once or twice to Custom weapons.

Tripping (Benefit): This weapon has a flexible haft, a hooked end, or is otherwise constructed for tripping. This weapon grants advantage on trip attempts.

Disarming (Benefit): On a critical hit, the weilder of this weapon can choose to forgo the additional damage and instead disarm his opponent. He may then choose whether to catch the weapon in a free hand, or send it 20ft in a random direction - see the scatter chart.

Basket Hilt (Benefit): This weapons has a basket hilt, a wrist strap, or is otherwise constructed to avoid being disarmed. This weapon imposes disadvantage on attempts to disarm the character.

Paired (Benefit): This weapon is designed for use when two-weapon fighting. When used in concert with another paired weapon, and by a character with the Two-weapon Fighting talent, attacks with this weapon do not suffer the standard penalties for two-weapon fighting.

Improved Critical (Benefit): On a critical hit, this weapon adds one die to the damage caused.

So... some example weapons

Here are just a few weapons in the game...

Knife: This represents a kitchen knife or butcher's cleaver. It is not balanced for throwing. It's a Light Simple Weapon, which does 1d4 damage.

Rock: This is a heavy stone, weighted for throwing. It is too small to use effectively in melee combat. It's a Light Simple Weapon with the Reduced Damage and Ranged (1) traits - it therefore does 1d3 damage, has a range increment of 10ft, and can be thrown up to 5 increments.

Rapier: This is a thin stabbing sword, fitted with a basket hilt, and weighted for two-weapon fighting. It is a Medium Martial Weapon with the Finesse, Paired, and Basket Hilt traits. It therefore does 1d6 damage, allows the use of the Weapon Finesse feat, imposes disadvantage on disarm attempts, and does not apply penalties to two-weapon fighting when used by a trained character along with another paired weapon.

Dagger: This is a thin blade weighted for combat. It is a Light Martial Weapon with the Hybrid and Ranged (1) traits - it therefore does 1d4 damage, has a range increment of 10 ft, and can be thrown up to 5 increments.

Sling: This is a leather strap for projecting stones over distance. Because appropriate stones are easy to scavenge, this weapon does not apply the Limited Ammo trait. Instead, it has the Ranged (2) trait, the Reduced Damage trait, and the Slow Reload (1) trait - it therefore does 1d3 damage, requires a Move action to reload, has a range increment of 50 ft, and can fire up to 10 range increments.

Spiked Chain: See "Kill Bill". Seriously. This is a Heavy Custom Weapon with the Increased Damage (1), Tripping, Disarming, Finesse, and Basket Hilt traits. As such, it does 1d12 damage, grants advantage on trip attempts, allows the weilder to disarm on a critical hit, and imposes disadvantage on attempts to disarm the weilder.