Pathfinder Class Analysis 15: Oracle

Core Concept: Sitting down to write my assessment of the core concept for the Oracle begs the question: what is a class’ core concept?

If we refer to the narrative concept of a caster who must suffer a hindrance in order to access their powers, then I quite like the core concept for the oracle. Likewise if the core concept is a caster who unwillingly has magical powers thrust upon her by the gods. These are things I like.

If, however, the core concept refers to the class’s mechanics, then the oracle is perhaps the most vapid class I have assessed thus far. Not necessarily because any of its mechanics are bad, but because none of them are unique or inventive. The oracle is a hodge-podge class, assembled from mechanics left over from other classes.

Of course, that doesn’t necessarily mean that the oracle is a bad class, or that it was a poor addition to the game. It does, however, mean that I don’t have much to talk about. Forgive me if this ends up being short because of that.

Spells: The oracle is a sorcerer who casts divine spells. There’s really not much more to say about it. Oracles learn and cast spells exactly as sorcerers do, but they draw from the cleric spell list instead of the wizard spell list. They even copied the artwork concept of a scantily clad woman. (Joy).

I suppose the one distinction is that oracles must choose whether they prefer “cure” or “inflict” spells, and they will always automatically learn every spell of the type they chose. This is in addition to the spells they gain on the “spells known” table. And while players do have the option to choose “inflict” spells, I think the purpose of this mechanic is to make healing magic more accessible–which isn’t something I’m fond of.

Don’t get me wrong, when my character gets knocked down to 1 hp, it’s good to have a magical healer around. But I prefer magical healing to be a boon, not a necessity.

Mystery: If the oracle is a divine sorcerer, mysteries are divine bloodlines. Mechanically, I cannot think of a single other thing to say about them. They are literally identical in form.

In terms of fluff, I will say that mysteries are a pretty cool idea.

Oracle’s Curse: This is probably the most interesting part of the Oracle; the flaw which they must live with in exchange for their power. It builds on ancient beliefs about magic–primal ones which seem somehow more true to the human experience. Though the curse doesn’t affect the character anywhere near as much as the mystery does, the benefits from the curse are still quite useful.

I’d prefer if the curses were a little harsher, to force the player to deal with a greater challenge. I also think these would be fun to randomize, though I understand that would be problematic for most players. (Wussies!)

Orsions: Perhaps I ought to simply omit Orsions and Cantrips from these analyses, since I always say the same thing, but I will again direct you to my cleric analysis for my thoughts on these.

Revelation / Final Revelation: These are similar to bloodline powers, and unique to each of the mysteries. To analyze each individually would go well beyond the scope of this post, and probably force it beyond ten thousand words. There are some pretty good ones, and a few bad ones. Blorp.

All in all, a solid class, but not a lot to write about.

Pathfinder Class Analysis 14: Inquisitor

Core Concept: It occurred to me as I was laying out this post that I’ve never actually taken a serious look at the inquisitor before. Other classes, like the Cavalier, the Witch, or the Alchemist at least caught my fancy enough that I read over their abilities briefly when I picked up the Advanced Player’s Guide. The Inquisitor, though? Not so much.

While my initial impression was that Inquisitors are meant to be a dark and gritty paladin, it’s a little more complicated than that. They’re much closer to cleric-rogues, with an emphasis on the cleric part. Inquisitors are who the church sends when paladins are too goody-goody to get the job done. It has a certain appeal, though like the cavalier, the inquisitor’s goals seem awfully specific for a random adventurer.

None the less, I think I like them significantly more than I like the cavalier. Though that may just be my bias towards rogue characters.

Also, I’d like to take a moment to point out the ridiculous boobage on the iconic inquisitor. It looks pretty damn stupid. Fortunately, if she goes all “Spanish Inquisition” on us, we know right where to stab her.

Spells: With spells through level 6, the Inquisitor is among the most magically invested classes outside of the primary casters. That seems a little powerful for a character with such significant physical combat ability, but I haven’t seen one played before, so I won’t make presumptions about the class’s balance.

I will say that I’ve always wanted to see a caster like this. One with spells up to 6th level or so, who rounds out their magical weakness with other cool abilities.

Domain: Since the Inquisitor doesn’t get any domain spells as the cleric class does, Inquisitor domains function more like a Sorcerer‘s Bloodlines. And while I’m not a fan of clerical domains, my primary issue with them is that they require too much of a day-to-day time investment from the player. With only a single domain, and without bonus spells, I actually think domains work pretty well for the inquisitor.

Judgement / Second Judgement / Third Judgement: I’m not terribly fond of abilities which function only in combat. There’s a certain verisimilitude to the judgement abilities, since they are god-given strength to mete out justice. But that’s the slippery slope to 4th editionism!

Aside from the “only in combat” aspect, I quite like judgements. A consistent buff which can be switched out for another in the set as a swift action is a solid mechanic which keeps things fairly simple, but can also give the inquisitor lots of options for how to approach battle. I also like how iterative levels of the judgement do not add new potential buffs, but instead allow the inquisitor to call upon multiple buffs at once. If keeps an already complicated mechanic from getting entirely out of hand.

The judgement ability is actually surprisingly similar to something I’ve been working on for awhile. On the one hand it’s a little frustrating to find out I’ve been preempted, since this is an idea I came up with before the Advanced Player’s Guide came out. On the other hand, it’s encouraging to know that the professionals at Paizo apparently like my ideas enough to come up with them themselves.

Monster Lore: In years of playing, I don’t know that a player has ever made a knowledge check to identify the weakness of a monster. This may be more a result of the way I run the game than the way my players play it, but regardless, I’m not really impressed by an ability which allows you to add your wisdom score to such a minor edge case.

I’d call this filler, but it’s a level 1 ability, so it’s one among a half dozen other abilities.

Orsions: The feelings I expressed for Orsions when discussion the cleric class essentially hold true here.

Stern Gaze: Despite my general distaste for the skills system–and in particular the Intimidate and Sense Motive skills–I none the less think this ability is entirely appropriate. The character is an inquisitor, that they would receive a significant bonus to extracting information and discerning lies is to be expected.

I might try to represent it differently mechanically, but the spirit of the ability is solid.

Cunning Initiative: I’m not certain why the inquisitor warrants a bonus to initiative. As far as I can see, they don’t have any abilities which are contingent upon acting first. If anything, it seems as though this should be a rogue ability.

The mechanic is simple enough. I just don’t see how it relates to the inquisitor.

Detect Alignment: A very standard ability for this type of class, which doesn’t really need to be discussed. Though, interestingly, the type of action required is not listed here. I would probably rule it to be a standard action, though it’d be interesting if it were a free action.

Track: I’ve no objection to the inquisitor having this ability, so my commentary on this would be identical to the one I posted in the ranger class’ analysis.

Solo Tactics: I find it interesting that so far, every martial class from the Advanced Player’s Guide (Cavalier and Inquisitor) have an ability which makes Teamwork feats work better. I would also point out that teamwork feats were introduced in the Advanced Player’s Guide.

It’s almost as if they agreed with me that teamwork feats are a terrible idea, and intentionally designed their new classes so as to avoid some of the issues I pointed out in my cavalier analysis. Namely, that any feat which requires multiple people to have the feat in order to work means that one person not being able to show up for a session, or leaving the group entirely, can severely gimp another player.

Teamwork Feat: I’m not a huge fan of bonus feats, blah blah blah, filler abilities, whatever. You’ve heard it all before, and it’s becoming super repetitive through these class analyses.

I have something new to bitch about here, though, because apparently the inquisitor can change her most recent teamwork feat a number of times per day equal to her wisdom modifier. What the fuck? As if there wasn’t already enough fiddling over feats, now alternating between any feat on the teamwork list is an ability? That would be insufferably frustrating at the table.

Bane / Greater Bane: I like this. It’s a very simple mechanic which has a lot of flavor and a large impact on the game. I could even see myself using a similar mechanic.

Discern Lies: I like this for the same reason I like “Stern Gaze” above. Though personally I think it would be cooler if the inquisitor gradually became completely immune to lies, save those which were magically warded against her somehow.

Stalwart: The D&D 3.5 Hexblade had this ability, though it was called “Mettle.” I always thought it was a little overpowered when compared to its inverse, “evasion,” which is omnipresent among the core classes. But the inquisitor has to wait until level 11 to get it, so I suppose it’s alright for it to be more powerful.

Exploit Weakness: I like the idea of critical hits which have an extra oomf to them. However, these improvements are extremely situational, to the point that the ability would be easy to forget when it’s actually relevant. It really only affects monsters who have damage reduction, regeneration, or who have a vulnerability to a type of energy which the inquisitor is using to attack them. Granted, all of those things are fairly common against high level monsters. But they’re not common enough that I think I would be able to remember “oh hey, since this creature is an ice demon and I’m attacking it with fire, my critical hit gets +1 point of damage per die rolled!”

Slayer: I really like judgement, but this just seems to make it complicated. Out of the 3 judgements the inquisitor can use simultaneously at this point, one of those can be used as if it were 5 levels higher, and that judgement cannot be switched out like the other judgements can.

It’s possible that I’m just a super stickler for simplicity, but that seems convoluted me.

True Judgement: I don’t personally find save-or-die capstone abilities to be interesting. But it kinda works for the inquisitor!

Deadly Dungeons 19: Bladesea Sailing Ship

There’s a boat in this room. A big-ass wooden sailing ship resting on the floor of the dungeon.

What the actual fuck?

The walls and ceiling of the room are a massive aquarium filled with sea life, from the green & leafy kind, to the toothy and bitey kind. It is not immediately apparent, but players who observe closely will be able to make out passages in this aquarium which lead out and away–presumably to the sea. The glass walls are not reinforced with magic, but rather, with remarkable feats of structural engineering. So while the glass is quite tough and won’t be shattered with a single blow from a hammer, it’s still possible to break it using mundane means. If that occurs, this room, and likely the entire dungeon, will flood.

The only horizontal entrance to this room opens onto a small 10x10ft alcove in the wall. If players step to the edge, they will see that the actual floor of the room is roughly 15 feet below where they are now. A wooden bridge long enough to reach the deck of the ship hangs from a crane on the ceiling. Unfortunately, it’s currently about 20ft higher than the surface of the entrance platform, and the lowering mechanism can be plainly seen on the deck of the ship, near the wheel.

The floor of the room has been painted blue, and is covered in dozens upon dozens of slits which run parallel to the ship. From these slits, massive 5ft diameter saw blades rise and fall in a rolling pattern, with each blade rising from its slit only after the one before it in line has reached its apex and begun to recede. This creates the image of a rolling sea of steel blades. By studying the pattern of movement, a player could easily run across the floor safely. However, at best they’d only have one chance to climb up the sheer 15ft side of the wooden boat before they were reduced to bloody chunks by the sea of steel.

The ship itself does not appear unusual in any way, save for its location here in the dungeon. There is a wheel for steering, a deck, masts with sails which are currently tied. The floor of the room has a “pocket” in it, shaped particularly so as to keep the ship upright. I have refrained from populating the ship, as there are simply too many interesting possibilities. I personally like the idea that someone wealthy and powerful created this room simply to use the ship itself as an office or dining hall, with kitchens and stores below decks. It might also serve as an excellent treasure chamber, or prison. I leave the specifics up to you.

One thing I will note is that while the entrance is the only horizontal way into or out of the room, there are two vertical exits. One is a trapdoor on the ceiling just above the main mast. It can be seen easily by anyone who looks up, as it stands in contrast to the aquarium. The other is a trapdoor in the bowels of the ship which leads to a room further down. This trap door is not secret, but it is concealed by barrels full of grog.

Picture Thursday 26: "Sound II" by Antony Gormley

Another statue this week. A statue curious enough that it seems it ought to be posted as part of the Deadly Dungeons series, rather than the Picture Thursday series. Credit to Niel Howard for the superb photograph.

This is “Sound II,” in a crypt beneath Winchester Abbey. I was surprised to learn that the piece is not nearly so ancient as the church in which it resides. I don’t have a date for its installation, but the sculptor is still alive, and in his 60s.

The featureless figure is gazing into his cupped hands, which apparently fill with water when this area floods–as seen in the photograph. That is absolutely going to appear in one of my dungeons soon.

Are Dead Levels a Bad Thing?

The exact meaning of a ‘dead level’ depends on who’s talking. I’ve heard a number of different definitions:

A level where the only improvement the character benefits from is increased HP. Typically used for oldschool games, since I don’t think a level like this ever exists in D&D 3.5 or Pathfinder.
A level where nothing improves about the character save for basic numbers stuff, such as HP, Saves, and Base Attack Bonuses.
A level where the character does not receive any new special abilities, though they may increase their HP, Saves, BAB, Ability Scores, or number of feats.

Here, I’ll be using that last definition, since it is the one which is most relevant with regards to the changes made between Dungeons & Dragons 3.5, and Pathfinder.

Back when I started playing tabletop games, around the advent of D&D 3.5, I often felt as though my character’s progress was painfully slow. I was excited to become more powerful, and nothing was worse than leveling up and realizing that very little had actually changed for my character. Dead levels were a serious frustration, because at that time planning out my character’s mechanical development was important to me.

When I originally read the Pathfinder rules, I praised them for the way dead levels were eliminated from the game. It meant players could spend less time waiting, and more time improving their character’s build. And I was right. Pathfinder does allow players to spend more time working on their build.

This is a good thing, because a big part of the appeal for RAW 3.5/PF is building your character. If the players are playing to build characters, and they almost never get to do that, then the game isn’t providing a satisfying experience. Dead levels are a huge issue, and should be eliminated.

However…

I no longer enjoy building my character. I’m not interested in playing a tabletop game where this is my goal, and I’m not interested in running a tabletop game where this is the goal of my players. Such gameplay is perhaps better suited for a video game or board game, where rules are more clear-cut and easy to enforce. In a tabletop game where the rules ought to be flexible and players are owed a logical explanation for any limitations placed on them, I don’t feel that it works.

So in the type of game I like to play and run, what is the point of leveling at all?

Improvement can be valuable without being the focus of attention. It can even be an important goal for the players without being the focus of attention. My goal is to provide my players with a game where they feel as though they can work towards any skill or goal diegetically. The advancement granted them by their class should be simple and easy to record & remember. More individualized character improvement can be sought out through gameplay, regardless of whether the character has leveled or not.

Dead Levels are only a problem if leveling up is the only means of improvement your characters have available to them.

Pathfinder Class Analysis 13: Cavalier

Core Concept: The Cavalier seems an odd class to me, because I don’t really see the type of person described here as ever pursuing a life of adventure. They’re knights in a king’s court or elite soldiers within an army. What on earth would drive them beneath the earth searching for treasure? I suppose Pathfinder is designed in such a way as to make political or military campaigns an option, but none the less the cavalier is a little out of place. Though that doesn’t mean they don’t have some cool stuff about them.

II should point out that the Cavalier has a long history with D&D. Gygax originally created the class back in 1983, several years before I was born. Unlike many other such classes, though, I know absolutely nothing about the historical cavalier. I considered reading up on the class’s origins before making any assessments about this modern iteration of the class. However, it occurred to me that I have a unique opportunity to examine the Pathfinder cavalier without the bias of historical context, so I chose to maintain my ignorance until I have recorded my thoughts.

I would also like to point out that this is a class with no spellcasting ability. This makes me happy. Game designers too often resort to spells as a way of making supplemental classes interesting. In fact, out of the six new base classes introduced in the Advanced Player’s Guide, the cavalier is the only one without spells.

Challenge: I like challenge. It’s similar to a Paladin‘s smite ability, with some interesting quirks such as a penalty to AC against foes other than the one who has been challenged, because the cavalier’s focus is so intense. As one of the class’s core abilities, it is respectably flavorful and isn’t too complicated. I even like the way in which many of the cavalier orders modify it.

Mount: I have little of interest to say regarding the mount. At least little which isn’t better suited to being said about the “charge” mechanics below. I will point out that the class doesn’t have any alternative here. Every class in the core rulebook which has the ability to acquire an animal companion also has the option to replace their companion with some other ability. I’ve speculated in the past that this was due to the extreme complexity involved with maintaining the mount’s character sheet.

My guess would be that the mount is simply too essential to the workings of the cavalier class, meaning any alternative would be a severe detriment to the class.

Order: A cavalier’s order is a little bit like a Paladin’s oath crossed with a Sorcerer‘s bloodline. It provides the Cavalier with a customized benefits package (class skills, modifications to the challenge ability, and special abilities gained every few levels) at the cost of requiring the cavalier to adhere to a certain set of principals, or ‘edicts.’

Were it up to me, I think I would simplify the orders significantly, but as it stands I didn’t come across anything egregiously bad in any of the available Orders. And as mentioned above, the way in which they modify the challenge ability can be interesting. The paladin would benefit from something like this, actually, rather than its somewhat vague “do no evil, always do good” code of conduct.

Tactician / Greater Tactician / Master Tactician: I’m not a big fan of “Teamwork Feats.” For those who don’t know, they’re essentially feats which two players must take, which allow them to work together to achieve certain results. Most of these feats are actually pretty solid and neatly avoid my oft-cited problem with feats. My issue is that they require two players to both take the feat in order to gain any benefit from it. But what happens when the other guy who took the feat can’t make it to games anymore? Now the feat is useless unless another player can be convinced to take it.

Abilities which rely on other players are, in my opinion, a bad design choice.

With the tactics abilities, the cavalier can grant his teamwork feats to other characters. My only complaint about this is that the cavalier has to wait until “Master Tactician” before teamwork feats not gained through tactician bonus feats can be used with the tactician ability. It’s so confusing that I can barely understand my own explanation of it!

Cavalier’s Charge / Mighty Charge / Supreme Charge: The charge abilities, and their prominence in the way the cavalier develops, is likely why the cavalier doesn’t have the option to select another ability instead of getting a mount. But this begs the question: how often will the cavalier really have the opportunity to make a mounted charge?

This goes back to the misgivings I wrote about when discussing the class’s core concept. My players have spent all of their last two sessions in a dungeon where a cavalry charge would be pretty difficult to pull off. And while I know not everybody runs as many dungeons as I do, it seems strange to design a class which almost precludes dungeon play. I would feel bad if I had a cavalier in my current adventuring party, since they would often be forced to leave their mount behind.

Expert Trainer: For a class with such a heavy investment in mounted combat, it seems obvious that they would be exceptional mount trainers. A nice touch.

Banner / Greater Banner: The banner abilities are all about improving the morale of your companions. These, (and the tactics abilities, come to think of it) suggest to me that the cavalier would function best in a game which was more liberal about hirelings than Pathfinder is. As it stands I would think that any cavalier would be wise to pick up the Leadership feat as soon as possible.

I’ll also point out that abilities like “wave your banner and improve the morale of your allies” always seem ridiculous to me, if those allies are actual players rather than NPCs.

Bonus Feat: Oh, boo! I hate it when a class has a few random bonus feats tossed in just to keep it from having any dead levels.

Demanding Challenge: I’m not sure how I feel about the idea that an NPC can actually be forced to focus its attention on a given character. As a GM, I would not like to run a game where the players were able to force their enemies to act in certain ways.

When Ginny Bo Fails a Morale Check

A few months back, in Vaults of Pahvelorn, my character Eriara’s apprentice died. It was really too bad, he’d shown a great deal of promise (took out an entire flock of pegasi)! but ultimately succumbed to one of the most ancient sources of character death: a large rolling stone. We weren’t even able to recover his hat.

I told the mighty Brendan that Eriara would like to search for a new apprentice. As she’s only 12 herself, I noted that I’d very much prefer a young apprentice. Someone who wouldn’t have any problems taking orders from a child. Brendan did some rolling, and informed me that the only hireling available was an 86 year old man.

I was…annoyed.

I wasn’t upset or even really frustrated, mind you, but annoyed. I had gotten the exact opposite of what I wanted, and since magical healing in Pahvelorn has a small chance to age your character by 1 year, this 86 year old bastard may well die of old age. I understand that in this form of play, we give dice the power to tell us how the world exists. Sometimes it doesn’t exist in a way which is advantageous to us. I embrace that, but it doesn’t mean I’m always happy about what I get.

I took him, because he was the best I could get. I dubbed “Ginny Bo” because it sounded ridiculous and I wanted to make this imaginary person feel bad about being my only option. I didn’t train him as a magic user. I intended to use him merely as a torch bearer until we got back to our home town where I could search for a proper hireling. But then something started happening.

I don’t remember if it was Brendan, or I, or someone else who said it. But it was agreed that Ginny Bo had lived a long and boring life. That he regretted not being more adventurous in his youth. He had decided to jam all of the life he could manage into his last years. This was convenient for me, since I kinda wanted him to die. Using this as justification, I sent him into all manner of dangerous scrapes. And even though he was rarely effective, he somehow managed to end up alive at the end of every session. I began to inject more personality in the character for shits and giggles. Before I started to like him, the rest of the party already loved him. That proved infectious because soon enough, I loved him too.

His adventures at this point are too numerous to recount, but you’ll find hints of them in the ever-lengthening titles he’s given to himself: Ginny Bo of the Devil’s Helm. Wielder of the Black Sword Obynig, called “Butter Steel.” The Giantslayer. The sludgifier of the Great Worm.

All of that is my long, rambling way of leading up to my problem: morale checks. In OD&D, when a player character tells a hireling to do something which places them in particular danger, the GM makes a die roll to determine whether that hireling will obey, or flee. The mechanic is important, because it prevents the player from having a bunch of entirely expendable pawns they can order about without repercussions. But it doesn’t work for Ginny Bo.

The crazy things Ginny Bo does aren’t done because Eriara orders him to do them. He does these crazy things because he’s a glory hound eager to make his mark on the world before he dies. If he were ever to fail a morale check (which he hasn’t yet) and flee from danger, it would break the wonderful illusion of his character which has amused us all so very much. Yet as a GM myself, I wouldn’t ask Brendan to exempt Ginny Bo from the rules for role playing reasons. That’s just not how I like to play.

Fortunately, I came up with a better idea. Last week I got permission from Brendan to draft a random chart. One which will serve as an alternative to mere flight in the event that Ginny Bo ever does fail a morale check. The idea is that while Ginny Bo will never flee from danger, he might become so wrapped up in the adventure that he acts to the detriment of himself or the party.

Here is the chart, as I’ve drafted it. A 1d6 should be rolled in out-of-combat situations (such as dungeon exploration), whereas a 1d12 should be rolled in combat.

Ginny Bo begins to monologue. He rants about his greatness and his achievements.
He opens the nearest door and charges through it heedless of the danger, or charges deeper into the most dangerous looking part of the wilderness.
He attempts an overly complicated maneuver and throws out his back. For the next 3 turns he can’t do much more than walk around and carry a few things.
Ginny Bo realizes HE ought to be the party leader! He begins barking orders at the rest of the party. All of his ideas are terrible.
Falls asleep, probably standing up. He is very old, you know.
Regardless of any need for stealth, he shouts his name and attempts whatever task he was given recklessly. He will probably fail spectacularly.
Ginny Bo drops his weapon and headbutts the nearest enemy. (Probably while wearing the Devil Helm).
He puffs out his chest and taunts enemies. Possibly offering them a “free shot.”
Attempts to perform a Karate-Kid style leg sweep. There is absolutely no power behind it, and he looks like quite a fool impotently kicking at his opponent’s legs.*
Tries to twirl his weapons around in a fancy display of swordsmanship. Drops his weapon.
Tosses aside any armor which can be easily removed and declares “I can take ye’ naked!”
Attempts to tackle opponent and wrestle them on the floor. Regardless of the opponent’s size.

*This may or may not be based on an actual childhood experience.

Deadly Dungeons 18: The Steel Beast Throne Room

Note: This room is near the entrance of Castle Nalew, a central adventuring location in my monthly ToKiMo campaign. While the players have been through this room, they have not yet discovered all of its secrets. I would advise not reading this post if you play in that campaign.

Note 2: One of this room’s features was re-used in the The Midas Chest room. I prefer not to post a room with the same element twice, but here it is not central to the room’s challenge.

The room is massive, with a high arched ceiling and numerous steel doors around its edge. It is heavily dilapidated, with weeds growing through the cracks on the floor, bits of rubble on the ground, and even a few small holes in the ceiling where dirt, light, or rain can filter through. In the room’s center is a shallow pool of water. At one time this was obviously a rather elegant water feature, but now the water is stagnant and fills the room with a putrid stench. Characters will not be able to see the bottom simply by looking in, but the water is in fact only about 1ft deep.

The western wall is almost entirely dominated by a massively wide archway, around which is carved an elaborate depiction of a spiritual battle. An army of celestials charge from the northern end of the arch, while an army of devils charge from the southern end. The armies rise up the wall, and across the arch, meeting in the middle with brutally gory results depicted masterfully in stone. If characters choose to investigate the artwork on this arch more thoroughly, they may notice that there is a small demon, far from the front ranks, depicted as dying. Closer examination of this demon will reveal that the gash from which he is bleeding is in fact an actual slit in the stone wall, just large enough to fit the tip of a dagger into. Doing so will open a secret door within the room. (On the map above it is placed between the throne and the lion statue, but it might be placed anywhere.)

Directly above the archway is a stylized stone scroll, upon which has been carved the following words:

“Atop the world I stand, beneath the world I will lie. Home will always find me.”

In the east of the room is a large brass half-sphere, the apex of which rises to about 5ft off of the ground. It has been expertly crafted to demonstrate the continents, oceans, and even rivers and forests, of the known world. Fused to the top of the world is a heavy chair, also of brass. The chair has been cracked and several pieces of it hang askew, but despite being mangled, it appears to be intact. There are no chunks of brass on the ground, and it seems as though some bending would get the chair back in shape–though it is not so broken that it cannot be sat in without fixing it. Under the edge of the chair is a switch. If toggled, this will release 3 of the chair’s legs from their mounting on the half-sphere, allowing the chair to swivel around on the rotating fourth leg. This will reveal a small alcove, within which is a platinum facemask with three pieces of obsidian mounted under each eye. The pieces has no lips or mouth, and is worth 2,000gp as an art piece.

Elsewhere in the dungeon/castle/world, the players may learn that this are was built by an ancient king named Barj Volik, who was born far away on Stonespear Isle. These islands are well known, and can be found on any sufficiently detailed map of the world. If the players examine the brass world-sphere, searching for Stonespear Isle, they will find it easily enough. If the island is pressed, then seams will appear in several of the world’s larger rivers, and the brass will slide away, revealing a staircase into the tomb of Barj Folik.

Finally, there are four strange statues in this room. They are made to vaguely resemble a bear, a bull, a lion, and a gorilla. However, rather than depicting these creatures as they would appear in the wild, these steel statues instead depict what those creatures would look like if they were outfitted in full-plate armor. If any character sits in the throne atop the world, these four creatures will become animated. The sitting player may then attempt a save versus magic (or will save DC 25). If they succeed, then the creatures will obey them for 1d6+1 days. (after which another save must be made). If the save is failed, the statues will attack immediately and without mercy.

Picture Thursday 25: Statue of Charlemagne, a statue at Grossmünster

EDIT: Apparently this post was mistakenly scheduled to go up at 11pm tonight, rather than 7am when it normally should. Sorry about that!

First, just thought I’d point out that Picture Thursday 25 is on April 25. ~~That’ll probably never happen again~~. I’ll be damned. It’ll happen on May 30th. That’ll be the last time, though!

If you’ve been reading my recent Deadly Dungeons post, it may have become apparent that I have a thing for statues. While painting and music are artforms which remain strong even today, to my knowledge there’s not a lot of traditional sculpting artists. It doesn’t really fit with the modern world. Who can afford giant blocks of stone? Once finished, how will it be moved? Where will it be placed? The practice of this art form hasn’t completely vanished from the earth, but in my mind statues are most at home in a land of swords and warfare. They speak to me of adventure.

This particular piece, the sculptor of which I have been unable to determine, is of particular interest to me. The photograph was taken Le Monde1. The only other photograph I’ve found shows the statue mounted on the outer walls of Grossmunster cathedral. It depicts Charlemagne with some seriously odd proportions, and bearing a crown and sword which–honestly–look kind chincy in contrast with the stone.

A statue like this one would not normally draw my attention. Dude sitting with a sword on his lap doesn’t interest me. But the discongruity of the proportions and the cheap-looking accessories has left me staring at it for the last 10 minutes.

Deadly Dungeons 17: The Battlefield Execution

There is only one way in or out of this room, which is largely empty. The walls splay outward, causing the room to widen further from the entrance. The back wall of the room is a gentle curve, upon which has been painted a detailed mural which has become chipped and faded with age, but not so much as to make the its subjects unclear.

The mural depicts a large army of of hardened warriors stretching halfway to the horizon. The figure’s shadows are long, indicating that the scene is either early morning, or late evening. Rather than doing battle or raising their voices in a cry of war, the fighters are depicted as bloody and beaten. Some even lie dead on the ground amongst their fellows. Their faces are forlorn, and every one of them faces out of the painting, with eyes downcast. Several standards blowing in the wind depict a black cloven hoof wrapped in green thorns, on a red field.

In front of the mural is a kneeling statue of a man who appears similar to the warriors behind him. Like his bretheren, his eyes are downcast. With both hands he grips the blade of a sword with the hilt held out in a deferential gesture. The statue has clearly been painted to match the mural, but like the mural much of the paint has been chipped away. In addition, the statue appears to have been brutalized. Chips and slices cover its surface. It appears as though someone brutally attacked the statue with a sword or axe. Closer inspection will reveal that some of these cuts have undisturbed red paint in them, indicating that these marks are intentional.

The nature of the sword being offered is up to the individual GM. For my use, it is a magical artifact sword of great power. If that were not to your liking, however, it can merely be a sword of great artistic and historical value. Regardless of the sword’s exact nature, though, it is a marvelous and tantalizing treasure to behold. The blade is of unblemished mithril. The crossguard is styled to resemble a lion, and the hilt itself is carved with depictions of 6 spearmen thrusting their weapons up into the lion’s belly. These carvings are heavily stylized, and beautiful in their simplicity.

However, the sword will not budge from the statue’s hands. What’s worse, powerful magics ward the statue against being smashed. The magic which holds the blade in place is also powerful, and cannot be affected by spells designed to loosen or release an object. Furthermore, these wards cannot be dispelled, though they might be overcome by a wish or similarly powerful effect.

The key to this puzzle is knowledge of a battle which occurred 300 years ago. Any characters with knowledge of warfare, history, or nobility will have heard of it. A sage will be able to offer information about it if they are given some relevant information about the scene depicted. Additionally, a room not far from this one in the dungeon should contain a history book detailing the battle and its aftermath.

It was called The Battle of Braeon Ridge. The combatants where the House of Krephis (or noble house relevant to your world), and the unstoppable armies of Fulnaf Thornfoot. It was a monstrous battle which lasted days and killed thousands. At its end, Fulnaf Thornfoot was killed, leaving his father to surrender to the conquering Krephis. Famously, while Fulnaf’s father offered the conquering leader his son’s sword, the patriarch of House Krephis (who had lost his own son in the battle) reached down from his horse and buried a dagger in the back of the old man’s neck. House Krephis rose from being only a minor noble house to being one of the more powerful families that existed at the time.

If the players take a dagger and begin pressing it against the areas where the stone has been cut on the back of the statue’s neck, they will discover that one of these slices was illusory. It in fact hid a large slot, which the dagger fits into nicely. Once the dagger is planted in the back of the statue’s neck, the sword will slide freely from his hands.

Note that the illusion covering the dagger slot is not warded as the statue’s other protective magics are. It can be discovered, and dispelled, by normal means.