Killing My Babies

“Kill your babies” is a term you may or may not be familiar with. I’m sure it exists in many fields, but I first discovered it while studying writing. The idea is that when you’re working on something, parts of it will become very precious to you. You’ll be happy with the way this argument or that turn of phrase represents you and your skills. But even a brilliant piece of writing can be out of place. The quality of the project as a whole must always take precedence over any individual aspect of it. Anything which is out of place or distracting must be killed, even if it is your baby.

I killed one of my babies a few minutes ago. In and of itself, that is not something worth writing to you about. However, the reason this particular baby needed to be smothered revealed something mechanically interesting about my recently posted ability scores weighted by race system. I’d recommend you read it, but to briefly sum it up, my idea is that the player should first pick their race, then roll their ability scores in a way that is weighted towards that race’s strengths and weaknesses. So a dwarf, being very hardy, would roll 5d6 for their constitution, and take the highest 3. Whereas a halfling, lacking physical strength, would roll 5d6 take the lowest 3 for that ability.

A few days ago I had the idea to combine the weight-by-race system, with a variant of the old ability penalty flaws system. My plan was that if a character had a negative modifier in any of their 6 ability scores, then they would need to roll on a flaw chart associated with that ability. So a character with a -2 modifier for their strength would need to roll on the strength flaw chart. No matter how severe the penalty (-1, -2, -3, -4) the character would only have one flaw per ability score, and the flaws would mostly be absolute “can’ts.” A character with a Strength flaw might roll “Can’t climb anything harder than a steep slope,” or “Can’t run for longer than 1 round.”

Unfortunately, while trying to work it out, I found it was difficult to determine which flaws should be associated with which scores. For example, one of the flaws I knew I wanted to have in there was “Can’t swim.” Originally, it was a strength flaw, because strength is the ability which modifies the swim skill in Pathfinder. But that didn’t strike me as correct, because it would mean dwarfs would almost never be unable to swim, while halflings would often be unable to swim. Moving the ability to dexterity solved that problem adequately, but then I ran into the same issue with “Can’t climb anything more difficult that a steep slope.” It’s obviously a strength based thing, yet a halfling scrambling up a rope seems perfectly natural. Many small creatures with low strength should be able to perform strength-based tasks, because their own mass requires less strength to move.

It was here where I realized that there was a large difference between Pathfinder’s default method of rolling ability scores, and my racially weighted method. Using the default method, ability ability scores are relative. Using my variant, ability scores are absolute. What do I mean by that?

In rules-as-written Pathfinder, a Strength of 10-11 is ‘average,’ pretty much regardless of your race. With a penalty of -2, halflings have a slightly lower average of 8-9; but since PCs get to roll 4d6 drop the lowest for all of their scores, PC halflings will still have an average strength (11) higher than the average NPC human. It sounds a little ridiculous to say that an average PC halfling will be about as physically strong as an average human, until you realize that a halfling’s strength is relative to their own size. Other mechanics represent the halfling’s strength relative to larger creatures. When using a weapon, halflings must use a smaller damage die. When attempting to grapple with an opponent, halflings suffer a significant penalty due to their size. Even encumbrance is modified by the creature’s size; a halfling can carry only 3/4ths the weight of a human with the same strength score.

The weighted-by-race system, in contrast, is intended to use absolute values for the ability scores. A character with 10 strength can carry the same amount of stuff regardless of whether they are a pixie or an ogre. (accommodations would be made for quadrupeds). That might sound ridiculous, but bear in mind that neither of those creatures will ever have a strength of 10. A pixie’s strength would probably be something on the order of 5d2, take the lowest 3. While an ogre’s strength might be the highest 3 out of 5d10.

I still like my system better. Not only is it significantly simpler, (small characters don’t need to record a dozen different penalties for the game’s different subsystems), but it’s also more consistent. RAW Pathfinder’s ability scores are only relative for the physical abilities. Mental abilities (Int/Wis/Cha) are absolute. Regardless, though, I don’t think the ability penalty flaw system will work with the weight-by-race system. Not unless I come up with a very different way to implement it.

The nice thing about killing your babies as a game designer, as opposed to killing them as a writer, is that game mechanics are modular, while writing often isn’t. Someday I’ll get to use the ability penalty flaw system…

…someday…

Colorful Characters 25: Sestronatara

NOTE: If you participate in my monthly ToKiMo Pathfinder campaign, I advise you against reading this post. It will be much more fun for you to encounter this information through play, than it will be fore you to read it here.

Six hundred years ago, she lived a peasant’s life, and knew herself by a peasant’s name. A name which does not matter, and which she has long since forgotten. Sestronatara was born from that peasant she once was, when her mistress drained her of human weakness and gifted to her a new existence as a fledgeling vampire. In that existence she has served her mistress, as fledgelings do. As she aged she grew in power, and independence. When she had been in her mistress service for roughly a century, she was given a task:

Travel to the Castle Nalew, ancient sanctum of the mad god who one walked the earth. There, locate the Blade of Boleshi, which the mad god crafted from the carapace of the mother of spiders. Retrieve it, and return.

Dutifully, Sestronatara crossed the oceans and deserts of the world, and entered the dread god’s labyrinth to begin her search. She wandered the dungeon’s halls, slaying or enslaving all she met there. Shortly after she arrived, she encountered a paladin; a dwarf named Elzhemer. He also sought the Blade of Boleshi, determined to destroy such an evil artifact. The two fought to a stalemate before retreating to continue their search with a renewed sense of urgency.

For thirty years the two searched, and fought, neither gaining the upper hand. Sestronatara became impatient, and plotted to end her game with the infuriating Elzhemer. In their next encounter, she ‘lost’ her journal while fleeing from her foe. Within, he found every note she’d made for 30 years, and combining her knowledge with his, he knew precisely where to find the long-sought blade.

But unbeknownst to the righteous Elzhemer, his nemesis had disguised herself as a spider on the ceiling. She followed his every step, through hundreds of rooms and countless deadly traps, until the two reached their prize. Before Elzhemer could move to claim the cursed blade, Sestronatara let fall her disguise and made to kill the dwarf. For a day, sparks from clashing weapons were the chamber’s only light, and howls of rage and pain were its only sound. When all seemed lost for him, Elzhemer smashed a glass vial of holy water against the vampire’s head, burning away her skin and hair, leaving her head forever bald. But Sestronatara recovered, and proved victorious. With the Blade of Boleshi, she cut her foe’s hands away, then chained him so she could drag the meat to her mistress.

But when Sestronatara reached the entrance of the dungeon, she found she could not leave. In the 30 years the two had been here, a group of powerful wizards and clerics had banded together and sealed Castle Nalew against any entrance or exit. The vampiress raged and beat against the barrier, but could not escape. And in her 30 years of exploration, she had never discovered another pathway out. The pair were trapped.

Five hundred years have passed since then. Sestronatara has claimed a small wing of Nalew for herself, and filled it with her own fledgelings and slaves. To occupy herself, she collects what objects of beauty can be found in the dungeon, and will offer a good price for any art piece. She has grown powerful, and independent. No longer does she wish to serve the mistress who created her–though she still keeps the Blade of Boleshi hidden away. She cannot disobey her mistress’ final command.

In her chambers, beard grey with age, the handless Elzhemer remains chained. A pedestal has been placed just out of his arm’s reach, and upon it is a hammer and wooden stake he could never hope to use without hands. The paladin’s anguish soothes her.

Sestonatara (CR 8)

XP: 4,800
Female Human Vampire, Sorceress 6
NE Undaed
Init +9; Senses Perception +14, Darkvision (60ft)


Defenses


AC 23, Flat Footed 17, Touch 17 [10 + Dex(6) + Natural(6) + Dodge(1)]
hp 67 (6d8 + 36)
Fast Healing 5
Fort +3 (Immune unless effect can target objects, or is harmless) Ref +8 Will +6
DR 15/Magic & Silver
Resist Fire 20, Channel 4, Cold 15, Electricity 10
Immunities Mind affecting effects, Bleed, Death effects, Disease, Paralysis, Poison, Sleep effects, Stunning, Nonlethal Damage, Ability Drain, Energy Drain, Physical Ability Score Damage, Exhaustion, Fatigue effects, Death from massive damage, effects which require a fortitude save


Offense


Speed 30ft
Melee Staff + 8 (1d4 + 5, 20/x2)(Reflex save DC: 11 v. being knocked flat)
Melee Slam +6 (1d4 + 3, 20/x2)(Magic Weapon)(Energy Drain)
Sorcerer Spells (CL 6th; Concentration +11; +2 save DC for Evocation spells)
3rd (4/day) — Lightning Bolt
2nd (7/day) — False Life, Scorching Ray, Shatter
1st (6/day) — Chill Touch, Burning Hands, Magic Missile, Mage Armor, True Strike
0 (at will) — Dancing Lights, Flare, Light, Ray of Frost, Blood, Message, Daze
Bloodline Undead
Bloodline Arcana Corporeal undead are susceptible to your mind-affecting spells.
Bloodline Powers
Grave Touch — Able to summon a familiar.
Death’s Gift — Resist cold 5, and DR 5/Magic & Silver


Stats


Str 16 (+3) Dex 20 (+5) Con — (–) Int 13 (+1) Wis 6 (-2) Cha 21 (+5)
Base Atk +3; CMB +6; CMD 21
Feats Iron Will, Spell Focus/Greater Spell Focus (Evocation), Dominate Focus (+1 Dominate DC), Alertness, Combat Reflexes, Dodge, Improved Initiative, Lightning Reflexes, Toughness, Eschew Materials,
Skills Perception(+12), Spellcraft (+10), Use Magic Device (+14),
Languages Common, The Gravespeech, Draconic, Goblin
SQ
–Blood Drain: If an opponent is pinned, may deal 1d4 Con damage per round. Gains +5 HP (or +5 temporary HP) for each round blood is drained.
Children of the Night: 1/day, summon 1d6+1 rat swarms, 1d4+1 bat swarms, or 2d6 wolves as a standard action. Creatures arrive in 2d6 rounds, and remain for 1 hour.
–Create Spawn: Creatures slain by blood drain or energy drain rise as subservient vampires within 1d4 days.
–Dominate: Target must succeed on a will save (DC 19) or fall under the effects of a Dominate spell.
–Energy Drain: Creatures hit by slam attacks gain two negative levels.
–Change Shape: May assume the form of a dire bat or wolf, as Beast Shape II
–Gaseous Form:
As a standard action, or upon reaching 0 HP, the vampire can assume Gaseous Form indefinitely. Has a fly speed of 20ft with perfect maneuverability.
–Shadowless: Casts no shadows, nor is he reflected in a mirror
–Spider Climb: May climb surfaces as though under the effects of the Spider Climb spell.
–Combat Reflexes: May make up to 5 attacks of opportunity per round. Even while flat footed.

Weaknesses
–Aversion: Cannot tolerate the strong odor of garlic, mirrors, nor strongly presented holy symbols. Must succeed on a DC 25 will save each round, or stay at least 5ft away from these objects.
Entrance: Cannot enter any private home or dwelling unless invited by someone with the authority to do so.
–Sunlight: Exposure to direct sunlight causes the staggered condition in the first round, and utter destruction in the second round.
–Running Water: Being submerged in running water deals damage equal to 1/3rd of max hit points per round. Upon reaching 0HP, the character cannot escape using gaseous form as normal.
–Wooden Stake: If a wooden stake is driven through the heart while Sestronatara is helpless, she is instantly slain. However, if the stake is ever removed, she returns to life unless her head is also severed and burned.

Gear Staff of Impact (+2, Knockdown), Key Ring (Opens her secret treasure room), Wand of Fireball (8 charges), Close-Call-Cloak (+1 to all saves)

Magical Rings by *BATTLEFAIRIES

For me, magical rings are the quintessential magic item. Sure magic brooches or magic swords can be cool, and often are, but there’s something about rings. Maybe its the fact that we imbue them with an almost magical significance in our society (wedding rings being the most prominent example). Perhaps it’s because they ornament our hands, and our hands are fuckin’ amazing.

The above piece from *BATTLEFAIRIES is an example of how varied rings can be. It’s something I tried to express myself a few months back, but there’s really no substitute for art when you’re trying to express the appearance of something. I highly recommend you check out the artist’s gallery, where there are several other pieces similar to this one. Including a nice array of weapon designs.

Page by Page: Gary Gygax’s DMG Part 13

This is the thirteenth installment of my continuing series on the 1979 Dungeon Master’s Guide, written by Gary Gygax. This post begins with the section “Non-Player Characters” on page 100, and continues through “Hiring Non-Player Characters to Cast Spells or Use Devices” on page 104. My purpose is not to review the DMG, but to go through it as a modern gamer, learning about the roots of Dungeons and Dragons, and making note when I see something surprising or interesting, or something which could be adapted for a modern game.

You can read all posts in this series under the Gary Gygax’s DMG tag. And yes, this is the second day I’ve posted one of these in a row. And nobody can stop me! Mwuahaha!

Personae of Non-Player Characters: Random charts to determine an NPC’s traits are nothing new. Though, I suppose they probably were new when this book was published. None the less, the concept is commonplace enough that I don’t really have anything to say about it.

The execution of this particular set of charts, however, is odd. Some of the charts seem to overlap each other (such as Alignment & Morality. More on that later), while others seem only marginally useful, such as “Energy” and “Thrift.” Why does every NPC need to be defined on a scale between “Slothful” and “Driven?” Despite these complaints, the charts are pretty good. I like the idea of rolling for an NPC’s level of bravery, or their level of honesty. I don’t recall seeing those on most NPC generation charts, and it seems like something I would use.

Reading this section gave me an idea I’ll need to play with at some point. The gist of it is a set of ‘tiered’ random charts for determining NPC traits. The first tier contains only the most vital information for generating a random NPC, such as their age, race, and profession. It’s small, and can be kept at the table to quickly come up with interesting characters. The second chart would be a little more detailed, and could be used if this particular NPC ended up sticking around for an entire game session or two. It would determine character traits which might not be immediately apparent, such as the character’s piety or knowledge. If the NPC became a long-term addition to the game world, a potential third chart could be used to give them some items of minutia (backstory, marital status, etc.) which the GM can use to keep the character interesting over time.

Morals:

Morals refer to the sexual tendencies of the NPC, although this trait rating can be used with regard to some ethical questions.”

Um…WHAT!?

First, why is that a thing the GM needs to know? Second, why would this come up? Third, why is sexuality framed as morality? This bothers me a whole hell of a lot. Look at the possible options when rolling on the ‘morality’ table:

Morals (d12)
1. Aesthetic
2. Virtuous
3. Normal
4. Normal
5. lusty
6. lusty
7. lustful
8. immoral
9. amoral
10. perverted
11. sadistic
12. depraved

The progression is pretty clear: the more sex you have, the less moral you are. I’m just happy he didn’t go so far as to define what he meant by terms 8-12. I’m fairly certain I wouldn’t like knowing what G.G. thought of my sexuality.

Non-Player Character Encounter/Offer Reaction Adjustments: This is a good example of what I was referring to yesterday when I wrote that Gygax was a poor communicator. I honestly have no idea what anything in this section means. At all. There are some words, and some percentages which can either positively or negatively affect something based on aforementioned words…but that’s all I can gather.

Based on the title of the section, I imagine there’s a concept described either elsewhere in the DMG or in the PHB which I’m supposed to apply this section to. But that doesn’t really help me much.

Height and Weight Tables: Why not use the tables that were printed for player characters? Why did they need to be printed again? 0.o

Special Roles of the Dungeon Master: I don’t have a lot to say about this section, but I feel like I’ve been harshing on Gary a lot in these last two segments. So I want to point out that these ~1.5 pages are great. They cover their topic in detail, along with an example to help budding GMs understand how the directives presented here function in play. I particularly like the subsection on monsters, which demands that the GM always play the monsters intelligently. And demands it with no lack of emphasis, going so far as to say “In all cases, the DM is absolutely obligated to play the monster in question to the best of his or her ability.” The example of play demonstrating the difficulties a player might encounter when searching for an NPC wizard is also very well written, and pretty funny to boot.

Page by Page: Gary Gygax’s DMG Part 12

This is the twelfth installment of my continuing series on the 1979 Dungeon Master’s Guide, written by Gary Gygax. This post begins with the section “First Dungeon Adventure” on page 96, and continues through the example of play which ends on page 100. My purpose is not to review the DMG, but to go through it as a modern gamer, learning about the roots of Dungeons and Dragons, and making note when I see something surprising or interesting, or something which could be adapted for a modern game.

You can read all posts in this series under the Gary Gygax’s DMG tag.

The First Dungeon Adventure: The whole point of having an example of play is to demonstrate the basics of the game, to introduce the GM to what their role is, and how they should interact with the player. This first section, which is geared towards how to move the players towards an adventure, does a halfway decent job of that. But it could be much better, in my opinion. Rather than simply writing “You inform them that there is a rumor in the village that something strange and terrible lurks in the abandoned monastery not far from the place,” why not directly address the what a hook is and how it should be handled? The example is fine, if a little mundane, but it could have been improved by adding something as simple as: “This is called the adventure hook. The purpose is to inform and entice the players towards an adventure, though the GM should avoid forcing the players down any given path.” Which is pretty much exactly what Gygax does in the next bit, where he describes the character’s guide. It’s noted that the guide might be “an agent of some good or evil power, a thief in disguise, or just about anything else.”

I don’t think this section is bad, but in my reading of this book so far, it has become apparent that Gygax, though brilliant, was not the best communicator*. Perhaps I am wrong. I never met the man. But, since this is often considered to be his greatest work, I think it’s a pretty fair assessment. The above is hardly the worst example I’ve encountered, but it is relevant because the following section is a back-and-forth between players and GM. I’ve heard from a few different sources that reading and re-reading this section is how they learned to play. It’s where all the confusing rules start to make sense.

*Which isn’t to say I am.

Example of Play:

(After asking the players to provide their marching order).

“DM: “Why are the gnome and the halfling in the front rank, the magic user in the middle, and the human fighter and cleric in the rear?”

LC: “That way all 5 of us can act when we encounter an enemy! The magic-user can cast spells over the heads of the short characters in front, and the pair in the back rank can do likewise, or fire missiles, or whatever is needed, including a quick move to the front!”

This is right near the start of the example of play, and I think it’s my favorite exchange presented. I’ve written before about the importance of clarity both from the GM and from the players. If one party doesn’t fully understand the other, then the game starts to feel unfair. I do my best to be clear, and if I don’t fully understand what my players are doing, I’ll ask them to describe it in greater detail. But I don’t think I’ve ever considered asking “why” they’re doing something. To ask that would almost seem like participating in their decision making, which is not my role. My role is to respond to their actions.

However, here “why” is clearly used to improve the clarity of the situation. If the GM would not allow the fighter in the back row to use a ranged weapon over the magic user’s head, then it’s better the players find out now, rather than when they’re in combat.

“DM: “Just as the three are about in position to look down the passages, and while the cleric is heading for the rotting bags, the magic-user cries out, and you see something black and nasty looking upon her shoulder!”

LC: “EVERYBODY, QUICK! SEE WHAT’S ATTACKED HER!” Then, turning to the referee: “We rush over to help kill whatever has attacked her! What do we see?”

Okay, two things.

LC, I get that you’re excited. The game is exciting, and something exciting is happening. But you really don’t need to shout across the table for everyone’s character to see what attacked the magic user. Everybody wants to know that. They’re all gonna look. I know this is just Gygax having some fun, but LC just officially became that guy for me.

Which, more to the point, the LC (Lead Character) concept is just weird. I understand that sometimes a certain player is going to become the de facto leader of the adventuring party, but the way it is presented here is strange. The LC literally announces the actions of every character, and apparently those players are cool with it. Perhaps this was done to save space, but the LC implies a style of play where most of the participants are almost spectators.

OC: (The cleric, of course.) “I squash the nasty thing with my mace!” and here the player, having already gained savoir faire, rolls a d20 to see if his strike is successful. A 20, and a beaming player shouts: “I got it!”

DM: “You’re right, and you do … (with these words the DM rolls a d6 to determine the amount of damage) SIX POINTS!”

So…why does the GM roll the player’s damage? Any oldschool players wanna educate me on this?

“DM: Each of you who are opening the door roll a d6 for me to see if you succeed. I see from you character sheets that the gnome has a normal strength, so he’ll need a 1 or a 2, the cleric has 17 strength so he’ll do it on a 1, 2, or 3.” (Eager hands roll the dice, and each succeeds in rolling a score low enough to indicate success.)”

Nearly every roll in this entire example of play is a success. I could really have used an example of what to do if the players fail at opening a door. Do they simply roll again? Is there a random monster check?

“OC: (The gnome:) “I’ll pull myself up into the passage revealed, and then I’ll see if I can drive in a spike and secure my rope to it, so I can throw the free end down to the others.”

DM: “You get up all right, and there is a crack where you can pound in a spike. As you’re doing it, you might be in for a nasty surprise, so I’ll let you roll a six-sider for me to see your status–make the roll! (Groans as a 1 comes up indicating surprise. The DM then rolls 3 attacks for the ghoul that grabbed at the busy gnome, and one claw attack does 2 hit points of damage and paralyzes the hapless character, whereupon the DM judges that the other 3 would rend him to bits. However, the DM does NOT tell the players what has happened, despite impassioned please and urgent demands. He simply relates:) “You see a sickly gray arm strike the gnome as he’s working on the spike, the gnome utters a muffled cry, and then a shadowy form drags him out of sight. What are you others going to do?”

I’m really glad a character death was included in the example of play. Honestly, if I were going to write a DMG, I might include an entire chapter on character death. It’s one of the most difficult things for a new GM to do, and it is really easy to do it wrong if you don’t have some good examples to work with.

The Gnome’s death is well justified. He entered an entirely new area, didn’t look around at all, and immediately began to make large amounts of monster-attracting noise. Though I do find it interesting that the character was not explicitly given a save v. paralysis.

Overall Assessment: The example of play was actually quite good. Many of my frustrations with the writing were not as prevalent here, and I can see why people would rely on this to teach them the game. Perhaps more examples of play are warranted in future DMGs. What if nearly every page of the DMG had a side-bar with a very brief example of play, demonstrating the concepts presented on that page?

It’s difficult for a new GM with new players to really understand the game they’re attempting to play. I’ve never heard of anybody in that situation who didn’t have some really awkward experiences before they figured out what they were doing. More examples like these might help mitigate that, and open up tabletop games to more casual gamers.

Ability Scores Weighted by Race

I’ve been thinking of ways to simplify the character creation process for new players, and I struck on an interesting problem with the way the game is presented. Typically, the first thing I ask my players to do is to roll their ability scores. Which means that their first glimpse of the game is “Roll these dice, record the resulting sum. Repeat this task five more times, then assign one score to each of these six abilities, the functions of which you probably don’t fully understand yet.”

This is a bad first impression of fantasy gaming. Sure the GM can help the player out by giving them an idea of how the ability scores will relate to class abilities, and the player will sticks it out regardless. Nobody is going to walk away from the table after 2 minutes. They will eventually start doing more interesting things, and they’ll probably have fun. None the less, this is a bad introduction which weakens a neophyte’s initial experience.

What if, instead, the initial question was “Which of these fantasy races would you like to be?” That’s a far more interesting introduction to fantasy gaming, I think. And in describing how each race functions mechanically, the GM is also describing interesting detail about the game world. Defining wisdom to a new player is difficult, describing a dwarf to a new player will connect with their experiences and engage their imagination.

Once a race is selected, the ability scores are rolled according to the strengths and weaknesses of that race. 3d6 is the average, but if a race is particularly strong in a certain area, then they would take the 3 highest from rolls of 4d6 or even 5d6. For every ability score where the race is strong, there must be others where they are weak, and take the lowest 3 from 4d6 or 5d6. So humans, as the baseline race, would roll 3d6 down the line; while a race which is strong, but clumsy and stupid, might roll 5d6(+) for their strength, and 4d6(-) for both their dexterity and their intelligence.

This would replace any bonuses or penalties the races get to their ability scores, which would eliminate scores over 18 at first level. And while it might seem extreme, 5d6 drop the lowest/highest doesn’t actually end up with too many extremely good or bad rolls. The averages would be 7 and 14 respectively. AnyDice represents the data really nicely.

So that the players have a little control over the scores they end up with, during character creation they may (after any roll) turn the face of one die to a 6. For (-) rolls, this is done after the high dice are dropped. So if a players rolling a 5d6(-) ability score rolls 6, 5, 4, 4, 1, then first the 6 and the 5 would be dropped. After that, the player can turn that 1 into a 6, resulting in a final ability score of 14. But this can only be done once for each character, and must be done before moving on to the next ability score.

Here’s how I think the races might work out:

Human
STR 3d6
CON 3d6
DEX 3d6
INT 3d6
WIS 3d6
CHA 3d6

Dwarf
STR 4d6(+)
CON 5d6(+)
DEX 4d6(-)
INT 3d6
WIS 3d6
CHA 5d6(-)

Elf
STR 5d6(-)
CON 5d6(-)
DEX 4d6(+)
INT 4d6(+)
WIS 4d6(+)
CHA 4d6(+)

Gnome
STR 5d6(-)
CON 4d6(-)
DEX 3d6
INT 5d6(+)
WIS 3d6
CHA 4d6(+)

Halfling
STR 5d6(-)
CON 5d6(-)
DEX 5d6(+)
INT 3d6
WIS 4d6(+)
CHA 4d6(+)

Orc
STR 5d6(+)
CON 5d6(+)
DEX 3d6
INT 5d6(-)
WIS 3d6
CHA 5d6(-)

Goblin
STR 3d6
CON 3d6
DEX 5d6(+)
INT 4d6(-)
WIS 4d6(-)
CHA 3d6

Kobold
STR 5d6(-)
CON 4d6(-)
DEX 5d6(+)
INT 5d6(+)
WIS 4d6(+)
CHA 5d6(-)

Magical Marvels 10: Glasstouch Dagger

The origin of Glasstouch Daggers is unclear. Though several have been found over the centuries, hidden in dark dungeons and deep caves, none have borne the identifying mark of any known craftsperson. Study of the magics used in their creation show that they must have been crafted by a powerful mortal illusionist, rather than coming from any otherworldly source. Regardless of their origin these daggers are a boon to any who find them.

Though they are made of glass, these weapons are not fragile. In fact they are very nearly impossible to damage without going to extreme lengths to do so. Even the edge of the blade does not dull. Aside from this small boon, however, the Glasstouch Dagger functions in combat just as any other dagger would. The true magical value of the dagger lies in the magical feats it can perform.

When the tip of the blade is tapped against any non-living surface, that surface becomes completely transparent. This effect functions on an area of up to 10 cubic feet, though if the object touched is smaller (such as a door) then only that object will be affected. The surface does not become fragile, nor does it lose any of its other properties. The dagger can affect an unlimited number of objects, and those objects will remain transparent for as long as the dagger (or the dagger wielder) is within line-of-sight of the affected object. Remember that transparency works both ways. If you use the dagger to look through a door, then whatever is on the other side of that door can see you too!

If the pommel is used instead of the tip, then the surface tapped will become mirrored rather than transparent. This effect is subject to the same limitations as the transparency effect, though it only affects a single side of the object. If the pommel is tapped against a door, then the side it was tapped against will become mirrored, while the opposite side of the door will retain its normal appearance.

Any sage with basic knowledge of magical items will likely know the above information. However, few sages know that Glasstouch Daggers actually possess even greater magics which only those who are attuned to them can access. After a character gains 1 level with the Glasstouch Dagger in their possession, it will become attuned to that character. The next time they handle the weapon, it will feel vaguely warm to the touch for a moment, and they will have an indistinct sense that something about the dagger is different. A sage with detailed knowledge of magic weapons may be able to inform the character of what has occurred. Otherwise the below must be learned through experimentation, or divination spells such as Identify.

If the tip of the blade is touched to a surface, and used to trace a shape, then only the space within that shape will become transparent. This still only functions to a maximum of 10ft in any direction. Tracing a shape with the hilt produces mirrored surfaces in the same way.

Additionally, if an attuned wielder can stab the dagger into a non-living object, then that object will become as brittle as glass for as long as the dagger is embedded in it. Note that embedding the dagger in an object does not make it mirrored or transparent. It retains its normal appearance, but becomes brittle and easily broken. Note also that this ability does not allow the wielder to stab the dagger into an object which they normally could not. A stone, or suit of armor, or shield cannot be affected by this ability. However, a wooden tree could be.

Picture Thursday 18: The Master Sword from A Link to the Past

Thus far I’ve made it a rule not to feature any art for Picture Thursday which I can’t properly credit the artist. This, unfortunately, has meant that I’ve had to pass on some really great pieces. For this Thursday, though, I’m breaking that rule for a piece of art which I have a long history with. If anyone does know what individual is responsible for this piece, please please let me know.

As I’ve written many times, The Legend of Zelda: A Link to the Past is a game with a huge influence on my life. One of the most striking scenes in that game is the area of the Lost Woods where the Master Sword is embedded in a stone altar. This painting captures and expands upon the feelings of that scene perfectly. The forest is dark, but the filtered light makes it welcoming. The mist on the ground hints at a chill in the air. The scene is still, but the stone and the sword speak to me of adventure.

For me the image is at once solemn and comforting. Looking at it makes me feel happy.

Pathfinder Class Analysis 11: Wizard

Core Concept: It’s the wizard; true descendant of the magic user. I said earlier that if there were only one class, it should be the fighter. Well, if there were only two classes, then the second should be the wizard. While other styles of caster can add depth to the game, none has ever inspired my imagination the way the wizard does. I think there’s something to be said for a class which uses books being powerful in a game contained within books.

Spells / Spellbooks: Vancian magic has been a subject of heated discussion since the release of 4th edition several years ago. And while I don’t want to delve too deeply into the pros and cons, I will say that I like Vancian magic. No big surprise, I know. I find it simple enough that people don’t have trouble understanding it, functional enough that it doesn’t harm gameplay, and flavorful enough that it doesn’t feel like a purely mechanical system put in place to serve function and simplicity.

I will add, though, that I think I’d prefer it if wizards never gained spells automatically upon leveling up, and were instead forced to research new spells right from level 1. Further, I think the class could make do with fewer spell slots. I may have suggested something like that in the past.

Arcane Bond: Like the druid, paladin, and ranger before it, arcane bond is the wizard’s pet choosing ability. On the one hand they can gain a familiar, as wizards traditionally do, on the other hand they can gain a bonded item. My thoughts on these choices haven’t really changed, so lets ignore the choice and focus on the bonded item ability. Essentially, the wizard selects an item through which they’ll focus their spellcasting, like a wand. The wand confers certain bonuses to them, and they find it very difficult to cast without it. Once per day, the wizard may use the bonded item to cast a spell from their spellbook which they have not prepared in advance.

This is super duper awesome. Because while I like for players to be forced to think ahead and plan their spell use, I also like the idea of a single-use backup in case something unexpected comes up. It’s not for every game, but it’s certainly an interesting mechanic for pathfinder. With the added bonus that it requires players to store their magical energy in an item which can be stolen by villains to reduce the wizard’s effectiveness.

Arcane Schools: I’m not fond of how Pathfinder handles arcane schools for a couple of reasons.

Firstly, in D&D 3.5, a character’s barred school absolutely could not be cast from. In Pathfinder this restriction has been lessened so that barred schools are simply more difficult to cast from. Often during these posts I’ve expressed a preference for allowing the character to do cool things rather than simply try to do cool things. This is the inverse of that. If the players need to make a choice which will limit them in the future, then those limits should be concrete. I don’t see any reason to buff the class this way.

My second issue with arcane schools is that they’re made into watered-down bloodlines. Part of what makes bloodlines so great is that they make the sorcerer class distinct from the wizard. Why diminish that effect by giving the wizard such a similar ability?

Cantrips: Unlike yesterday, I quite literally have nothing to say about Cantrips which wasn’t already said when I wrote about orsions back in the cleric analysis.

Scribe Scroll: When I first reread this entry for the analysis, I didn’t think much of it. Level one bonus feat for scribing scrolls, it works, whatever, move on. But upon reflection, I think credit needs to be given for this idea. The wizard, the caster who performs magic with the power of their intellect, is able to work their magic into scrolls. Other casters can do this as well, but only the wizard does not require special training.

It’s not a huge deal, but I kinda like that touch.

Bonus Feat: What a lame ability to end on! I’ve written so much about bonus feats across the numerous classes which have them, that I don’t really know what else to say. I always felt like, compared to other classes, the sorcerer and the wizard had the least interesting feat selection. Bonus feats just seem to stretch an already thin selection.

With the exception of the Fighter, bonus feats always seem like the kind of thing which is added to a class when nobody can think of anything better to give it. So it seems odd to me that they weren’t thrown out when everybody realized the wizard was insanely overpowered and needed to be scaled back in Pathfinder.

In Conclusion: With the Wizard, I’ve completed my look at the 11 core classes in Pathfinder. I hope you’ve enjoyed reading it even half as much as I’ve enjoyed writing it, because these were really fun, even if it wasn’t the most serious-minded analysis. Writing about what I want from each class has helped me better understand what I want from a tabletop RPG. I think I’ll be better at developing my own ideas now, having identified what I liked and disliked about these.

As I’ve mentioned in the past, I’d like to write similar posts about the non-core base classes. Paizo has done a good job on them, and hasn’t gone overboard the way Wizards did with 3rd edition. But after two solid weeks, I think everybody could use a break!

Pathfinder Class Analysis 10: Sorcerer

Core Concept: While the sorcerer is objectively more limited than the wizard, I like the class. Even in the earliest, simplest forms of D&D, playing a Magic User meant taking on an extra layer of rules and complexity. There’s not much that can be done about that, but the sorcerer’s limitations go a long way towards mitigating it. For that reason, I often recommend sorcerers to my less experienced players who want to play a magical character.

Were it up to me, I think there might even be a few more variants on the magic user class, all of which would interact with magic in a different way.

Spells: Unlike the more traditional magic user / wizard style of spellcasting, the sorcerer is a ‘natural’ caster. They know the spells they know, and can cast any spell they know at any time, but they can’t add to their spell repertoire the way a wizard can. In trade, the sorcerer is able to cast more spells per day than their more learned counterpart. Back in D&D 3.5, this trade was terribly unbalanced in the wizard’s favor. Fortunately, bloodlines have helped to balance this out.

As mentioned above, I like the idea that different arcane spellcasting classes would manage their spells differently. Though I might take it even a step further. Perhaps granting the sorcerer a few more spells per day, a few more spell slots, and make all of their spells completely random. After all, if their power is a naturally developing thing, why should they be able to pick and choose?

Of course, that would never fly with most RAW Pathfinder players.

Find Familiar: This is not a sorcerer ability, which is why it is not linked. I bring it up because in D&D 3.5, it was a sorcerer ability. To my knowledge, this is the only instance where a class had an ability removed* in the change from D&D 3.5 to Pathfinder. Likely because Bloodlines are such a large change which grant the sorcerer a large range of additional powers.

While it is still possible to get a familiar, I rather prefer the class without it. As a friend of mine said shortly after we found Pathfinder, familiars never seemed to be in tune with the way sorcerers approach magic. A familiar, in our eyes, is primarily meant to assist the caster in magical research, which the sorcerer never needs to do. And bloodlines are so awesome, that it hardly feels like anything was lost at all.

*I am well aware that the Rogue had the Improved Evasion ability removed, but it remains as a rogue talent**, so it’s still easily attainable without needing feats.
**I am also well aware that sorcerers may select the arcane bloodline and thus get their familiar without needing a feat. However, doing so requires you to make a choice which will dramatically change the way your character progresses, whereas the rogue can pick up improved evasion and move on. There are no long-lasting consequences for getting improved evasion as there would be for a sorcerer who wanted a familiar.

Eschew Materials: Sorcerers cast their spells naturally, so it would be cumbersome for them to deal with material components. This works fine.

Cantrips: Anything I might say about cantrips was already written about Orsions in my analysis of the Cleric. Though I would add the caveat that the sorcerer is the only class where limitless low level casting actually kinda makes sense. I could be okay with the sorcerer having this ability if every other magic using class did not have it.

Bloodlines: Most of the sorcerer’s class abilities fall within the bloodlines, so I’ll be discussion bloodline skills, arcana, powers, spells, and feats individually. However, as a general concept, it’s important to know that I think bloodlines are a great idea. In D&D 3rd edition, the origin of a Sorcerer’s power was given a bit of throwaway fluff text about how sorcerers are descended from dragons, but that this might be true or might simply be something sorcerers like to boast about.

The Pathfinder devs took that piece of throwaway fluff, and developed it into an interesting mechanic which further differentiates sorcerers from wizards. And while I’m not always wild about the specific ways in which bloodlines are implemented, they’re still awesome.

Bloodline Skill: Each bloodline grants the sorcerer one additional class skill, relevant to the bloodline. Much as I dislike the skills system, this seems like a creative way to use it.

Bloodline Powers: The powers are my favorite part of the bloodlines. I think that if it were up to me, spells and feats would be dropped, and bloodline powers would be emphasized further. The specific powers are rarely filler nonsense, but are instead interesting abilities, such as elemental resistance, long limbs which grant extra range on touch attacks, a breath weapon, wings, or any number of other interesting oddities. I also think it’s cool that some of the powers aren’t perfectly suited to a sorcerer. A claw attack, for example, doesn’t really help someone who does their best to stay out of melee. But having an odd ability here or there can really come in handy when the characters are in a pinch.

Bloodline Arcana: The arcana abilities are really just Bloodline Powers which permanently modify a normal sorcerer ability, rather than introducing something new. What is written above applies, though these often enter “filler ability” territory, where they merely grant a small bonus in a very particular circumstance which most players will forget about during play.

Bloodline Spells: Bloodline spells are similar to a cleric’s domain spells. I hate domain spells, because they’re an extra layer of pointless complication which doesn’t improve the player’s gameplay experience in the slightest. That being said, bloodline spells work a little better than domain spells do. Since sorcerers don’t have to prepare their spells each day, but instead have a permanent list of spells which they ‘know’ and may cast at will, the bloodline spells don’t significantly increase the bookkeeping the player needs to do. They just write the spells on their spell list when they level up.

This still seems a little annoying to me, though. Perhaps it’s just a personal peeve, but I think it’s annoying to get the same thing (in this case, spells) from multiple sources (in this case, leveling up & bloodlines).

Though if sorcerers had their spells randomized, as I suggested earlier, then Bloodline spells could serve as a way for the player to have some control over how their character’s spell list developed.

Bloodline Feats: They’re feats. We all know how I feel about feats by now, right? Though I do kinda like that some of these feats are completely different from anything a sorcerer would normally pursue. Seriously, “Cleave” is in there at least once.