Tag: RPGs

…So, imagine this:

Whatever iteration of the game you are playing, the 1st level Magic-User spells are the entire syllabus of known spells.

Fly? You wish. Fireball? Who can shoot exploding balls of fire; this is magic, sonny, not comic-books.

Of course, everyone knows that there are, in fact, other spells out there. Every first-year sorcerer has read that bit of Laconius where he mentions the Miraculous Mantle of Obfuscation, which renders the user invisible, and the intemperate uses to which he put it in relation to the Witches’ Coven of Outreterre Or known the frustration of studying that antique blabber-mouth Quinquarine, who, over the course of several volumes, promises to reveal the formula obscurely referred to as The Perambulatory Revelator of One-and-All, only to have no copies of the final volume survive the bonfires of the Irenian Orthodoxists. Or stared at the great tapestry at Biancule, depicting the turning of the invasion of the Mauvrian Hordes, and wondered what incantation allowed the fabled archimagus Villondro to enmesh the Mauvrians in gigantic spider-webs?

So, of course there are more than just these twelve spells. That’s why you are crawling down a hole in the ground with a party of cerebrally-challenged bravos, cut-purses, and roustabouts, facing death a hundred times over in the form of goblins, traps, and pneumonia, instead of staying in a nice cosy manse somewhere, casting Charm Person over and over for a hundred crowns a pop. Because there are more spells out there.

And whoever finds even one of them, is going to be star among the thaumaturgical-set. Seriously, people are going to be hitting you up right, left, and center for just a peek at your grimoire; the grimoire that contains the only known copy of Ariste’s Vertical Realignment in the world (even if some slack-witted copyist wrote it down as Levitation. But, hey, that error kept the thing lost all these centuries ’til you found it, so be nice to the guy). You now become famous as “So-and-So the Levitator” and anybody who needs something vertically-realigned has to come to you; either to pay for the privilege or to try and steal your spell (recall, in this context, the bit in The Dying Earth where Turjan crashes the chambers of Prince Kandive)….

— Gedankenexperiment: Vancian Rarity – The Wheel of Samsara

I already asked about horse farms.

There should also be ranches for food animals such as cows, chickens, and/or pigs.

Addendum: oxen.

— Connections, Episode 2 (1978)

This bit of realism is likely unwanted in most roleplaying games. 🙂

— Connections, Episode 9 (1978)

• burial grounds
• holy mountains
• blessed springs
• holy rivers
• sacred groves
• faery rings
• henges
• holy cities

Kingdoms/states/realms that field armies need hundreds if not thousands of horses. Not just mounts for cavalry troops but draft horses for wagon teams.

I have a soft spot for fantasy political structures that are pre-Medieval. Every city should be a city-state with its own king. Its own polity, I should say. Theocracies, magocracies, et. al.

Celtic Britain had the office of High King because there were so many petty kings—many of them ruling over nothing larger than their tribe/clan.

The 5e class description of Monks says

“Small walled cloisters dot the landscapes of the worlds of D&D, tiny refuges from the flow of ordinary life, where time seems to stand still. The monks who live there seek personal perfection through contemplation and rigorous training. Many entered the monastery as children, sent to live there when their parents died, when food couldn’t be found to support them, or in return for some kindness that the monks had performed for their families….”

When you actually look at official D&D settings, this very clearly seems not to be true for most of them. Classes like wizards, clerics and druids tend to be incorporated directly into the fabric of their settings. Magic schools and organizations, churches and temples of various gods, and druidic circles are all present and accounted for, providing easy hooks for players of those classes to directly attach their characters to core elements of the setting.

But monasteries that produce D&D style monks? They’re basically nonexistent. If a setting has some ersatz-[East Asia] equivalent, there might be some suggestion that many monks hail from there, but this notion of monasteries that “dot the landscapes of the worlds of D&D” is plainly not true. If there is a monastery, it is far more likely to be a western-style religious institution that produces clerics than a shaolin-style haven for martial arts mastery….

It all seems like a pretty major disconnect to me between the supposed official lore on monks that they come from these monasteries dotting the landscape, and the reality that basically no creators of official D&D content for most settings has bothered to incorporate them in any way.

— RPG.net Forums

Author’s emphasis. I could not have said it better, myself.

Cannot have wine without vineyards. And wineries.

As mentioned in Part 2 of this series, my knowledge of the D&D editions I grew up on is not actually complete. This is especially true of Advanced D&D 2nd Edition (2e).

There is a now-old jibe about how no one has read the 5th Edition Dungeon Masters Guide (DMG) because most DMs (at that time) were older players who had played prior editions. The idea of “rereading a book you already know” caused issues because of rule changes. This is old news to me as I never read the 2nd Edition DMG when it came out.

As orisons were introduced in 2e Players Handbook—which I did read at the time—I decided to check the 2e DMG to see if it covered zero-level characters. Indeed, it did: more than half a page! Here is the introduction:

It goes on to cover Ability Scores and Proficiencies (weapon and non-weapon) which I am skipping here. It is worth reviewing the section on Hit Points:

Quite a range depending upon vocation. Basic D&D only had two categories: Normal Man (1d4) and Man-at-arms (1d4+3).

One important thing (almost) always missing from RPG outdoor maps are mines. Gold doesn’t grow on trees!

• gold
• silver
• copper
• tin
• iron
• diamond, ruby, bloodstone, et. al.
• coal
• salt
• lead
• mithril, voidstone, and other fantastical ores
• stone (quarries)

Jack Burton:

That is not water.

Egg Shen:

Black Blood of the Earth.

Jack Burton:

You mean oil?

Egg Shen:

I mean Black Blood of the Earth!

— “Big Trouble in Little China” (1986)

Something a mega-dungeon should have. 😀

My previous post dug out a conversion rate of 25 gold pieces (GP) for one koku. That post focused upon the minimum income of a single samurai. As we have a historical record of the kokudaka (tax assessment of the entire country), I can expand my conversion to the daimyō—the landholding baronial class of pre-modern Japan. Under the kokudaka:

• The minimum annual revenue needed to be considered a daimyō was 10,000 koku. So 250,000 GP in agricultural production, annually.
• Many daimyō had revenue in excess of 100,000 koku. 2.5 million GP.
• The future Shōgun, Tokugawa Ieyasu, was daimyō of the eight provinces of the Kanto plain which produced an annual revenue of 2.5 million koku. 62.5 million GP.
• Out of a (1598) national total of just under 19 million koku. That is 475 million GP! Per year!
• Most of that was eaten, of course; Japan’s population at the time was somewhere around 19 million.

I have previously posted about how plate armor should be much more expensive than listed in most RPG equipment lists. While this will make its acquisition by Player Characters more difficult, it is neither the sole nor primary reason they should rarely have it: ownership would be restricted by any organized government to trusted individuals. In a word, loyalty. Men-at-arms who have sworn to serve that government and not act contrary to it.

PCs must earn such trust, and give oaths of loyalty, before being granted access to such critical military technology.

There are other ways for PCs to achieve “heavy armor” equivalency—say, wearing two “medium” armors atop one another—but that has (and should have) obvious disadvantages.

As I commented on Men Who Lived Deeper in the Shadows, in a fantasy roleplay campaign world, most people are rogues. I first got this idea from the blogpost, Hit Me Baby One More Time, and its description of 1st-level Thieves in B/X (e.g., 1981 Basic Edition D&D):

…At 1st level the thief looks almost like any other urban Normal Man…but it’s just an act. Even at 1st level he has abilities that set him apart from the general populace. The thief’s cunning and grace makes him an excellent combatant compared to the Normal Man (better attack matrix), and his wit, luck, and powers of observation make him immune to hazards that the NM would suffer (better saving throws)….

Working from that, a zero-level Rogue basically is a Normal Man; they do not have those abilities that set 1st-level’s apart. We also arrive at this conclusion by process of elimination: a Normal Man has neither the cantrip-only magic of the zero-level caster classes nor the improved combat ability of a zero-level Fighter.

All this leads me to a conclusion: as Rogues dominate the zero-level “tier”, they should likewise at 1st level.

The current remake of Shogun gives me the opportunity to point out a historical fact (almost?) completely ignored by fantasy roleplaying games: wearing armor is only acceptable in a few, very specific instances. These are:

• When warriors/soldiers know that combat is likely and imminent. This may or may not include formal duels, depending on time and place.
• When they are mustered as a formal military formation.
• Combat tournaments using weapons.
• Dedicated training periods in dedicated locations.

Even guards on duty in a castle are not armored unless it is actively under siege.

Japanese samurai films (fictional or historical) are the best but not exclusive example of this. The street skirmish in Romeo and Juliet is another. In fact, street skirmish describes most samurai film combat.

Proper war weapons are likewise proscribed. Neither the European rapier nor the Japanese katana are battlefield weapons. They are for “personal defense” in a civilian venue.

To wear armor in town means you intend to have a deadly fight—intend to commit murder. There should be consequences.

…Ah, but what if you’ve got to kill a dragon and there’re no 8th-level warriors in the party and you’re totally willing to sacrifice yourself heroically? Good question! I’m doing away with the rules for subduing a dragon (duh) and instead instituting something I like to call “Going for the Kill!” One PC of the party can draw the dragon’s attention and ire and get all close-and-personal…as opposed to dancing around hoping to hit the jackpot roll while avoiding dragon breath. When you “Go for the Kill!” you receive a +5 bonus to your attack roll….

Going for the kill is not all wine and roses, however. By (pretty much) challenging the dragon to single-combat and getting in close, you will be subjected to dragon fire. That means no “rollover save” to avoid the flames…the PC isn’t trying to avoid the flames, she’s trying to deliver a death blow. The mechanic works like this: you must announce you’re “going for the kill” before rolling initiative. If you lose initiative, or if you miss your attack roll, then your character is bacon…or, at least, mortally wounded (I believe I mentioned before a little resource called “grit?” It allows characters to fight on after being mortally wounded, which means you can see a Beowulf or Sir Orrin type combat, where the hero still slays the dragon despite being slain himself). It’s tough…but that’s the price you pay to be a hero.

— Chop! Dragon Breath (Part 4) – B/X BLACKRAZOR

Author’s emphases.

The dice only exist to give players a chance to fail at something. The dice do not allow you to do things, you do that yourself when you declare your action. Rolling dice only gives a chance of hindering the players, not helping.

D&D is at its core, a dice game in which you declare your action and then roll dice to see if you fail. If you don’t, then you continue onward to gain power and glory.

— The Dice are Not Your Friend – Farooq’s Gaming Blog

Author’s emphasis. Alas, that blog is gone, and the Internet Archive does not have a copy of it.

For most of the Sunday weekly (virtual) 5e D&D gaming this year, I roleplayed a human fighter named Urion. Inspired by this, I had him prefer gems and jewelry over coins for his share of any treasure found. He is now 11th level, and has accumulated quite an eclectic mix of bling—most of which he wears. Here it is:

• small silver cube (?)
• gem-encrusted dagger (100gp)
• silver necklace (25 gp)
• polished brass pin in the shape of unicorn with jewel horn (75 gp)
• small silver key (?)
• silver ring of 26 pierced silver coins (27 sp)
• large jade thumb-ring (10gp)
• bronze & green quartz brooch (25gp)
• silver & beryl ring (50gp)
• silvery (copper-nickel) dagger, (10 gp)
• electrum serpent bracelet (50gp)
• jade pectoral (50gp)
• silver-coin necklace (36gp) [x8]
• agate ring (5gp)
• jade bracelet (20gp) [x2]
• platinum key on chain (20gp)
• blue quartz (10gp)
• obsidian (10gp)
• turquoise(10gp)
• lapis lazuli (10gp) [x3]
• amber (100gp)
• remorhaz tooth

The bronze, jade, turquoise, and obsidian came from the Hidden Shrine of Tamoachan adventure.

Clerics had to wait for the AD&D Second Edition supplemental rulebook Player’s Options: Spells & Magic for cantrips, there named orisons.

In both editions of AD&D, Cantrip/Orison was a first-level spell. That was the cost for them. A first-level caster got four cantrips for the expenditure of a first-level spell. Thus the three grades of zero-level magic-user granting use of 1, 2, and 3 cantrips per day. This can easily be mirrored for clerics.