Category: Rules Discussion

Fallout 3 Tabletop Game 1: Characters

Every year around Thanksgiving, I have a guaranteed 4 days off from my day job. If possible I get the Tuesday and Wednesday before Thanksgiving off as well, netting me a total of 6 days to myself. It’s as close as I’m able to get to a vacation, and just about the only time of the year when I can get really invested in a video game. This year I spent an absolutely obscene amount of time playing Fallout 3, and I thoroughly enjoyed it. I didn’t get as much work done as I had planned to, but I’ve decided that’s okay. ‘All work and no play makes jack a dull boy’ isn’t just a terrifying reveal in a Kubrick film. It’s an adage with some real wisdom behind it.

After spending several days immersed in the game, my ladyfriend and I were chatting about it over lunch. We came to the conclusion that we both loved the setting and style of the game, and enjoyed playing it. But both of us found that we always wanted more options. Why can’t you join the Enclave, for example? Or cart the nuke from Megaton all the way to Tenpenny tower, and blow them up? Or, ya know…fix one of the cars scattered all over the place and drive it around the Wasteland. Obviously the options in a video game are necessarily limited in scope. Every insane whim a player might want to pursue cannot be accounted for.

But tabletop games do not suffer from any such limitations.

It took me perhaps twenty minutes to sketch out the core of the system. It was remarkably simple. Fallout 3’s mechanics are close to a tabletop game already. In fact, the original fallout games were going to be based on GURPS before negotiations between the developers and Steve Jackson Games fell apart. What I cobbled together seems pretty solid to me, and I’m proud enough of it that I thought I’d share.

I must stress that the rules below are imperfect. I haven’t had the opportunity to play test the system yet. And even without play testing it, I can tell you that the rules are math-heavy and complex. I’ve tried to simplify them as much as I can, but there’s only so much that can be done.

Take a look if you’re interested. And if you like what I’ve put together, let me know.

Fallout 3 Tabletop Characters

S.P.E.C.I.A.L.

Each Fallout 3 character has seven SPECIAL attributes which range between 1 and 20. When a character is created, the value of these attribute should be determined in order, by rolling 1d20 for each. If you wish, 3 sets of SPECIAL attributes can be rolled, and the player can select the set which appeals to them the most.

The seven attributes are:

Strength
Perception
Endurance
Charisma
Intelligence
Agility
Luck

Meta Human Races as Player Characters

Most Fallout 3 characters are human. However, players may wish to take on the role of one of the mutated, meta-human races. Doing so comes with some mechanical bonuses and penalties. The GM should also remember that these races are not welcome in most human societies. Super mutant characters receive a +10 bonus to Strength and Endurance, and a -10 penalty to Charisma and Intelligence. Ghoul characters receive a +10 bonus to their Endurance, and a -10 penalty to their Charisma. Racial bonuses cannot reduce a SPECIAL attribute below 1, but they may raise it above 20. (This is the only way a SPECIAL attribute can ever be raised above 20).

In addition to SPECIAL bonuses and penalties, Meta-human races must spend 2 skill points to receive 1 rank in any skills associated with a SPECIAL attribute they have a racial penalty in. For example, if a Ghoul (who has -10 Charisma) wished to raise their Speech skill (which is associated with Charisma), then that character would need to spend 2 skill points to raise their Speech skill by 1.

Skills

Fallout 3 characters each have 13 skills. Each of these skills is associated with one of the SPECIAL attributes. The skills, and the attributes associated with them, are:

Barter (C)
Big Guns (E)
Energy Weapons (P)
Explosives (P)
Lockpick (P)
Medicine (I)
Melee Weapon (S)
Repair (I)
Science (I)
Small Guns (A)
Sneak (A)
Speech (C)
Unarmed (E)

Each skill has a value between 1 and 100. When a character is created, each skill’s starting value is calculated by taking the value of the associated SPECIAL attribute, and adding one half of the value of the Luck attribute, rounded up.

Kestrel has a Perception of 14, and a Luck of 5. There are three skills associated with Perception: Energy Weapons, Explosives, and Lockpick. Each of these skills will begin with a value of of 17. (Perception + 1/2 of Luck, rounded up)

Once the starting value of each skill is calculated, the player chooses three skills to ‘tag.’ Tagged skills are raised by a value of 15 points.Kestrel would like her character to be a sneaky explosives expert. So she tags the Explosives, Lockpick, and Sneak skills. This brings her Explosives and Lockpick skills up to 32 each (since they were at 17 before). Sneak is an Agility skill, and Kestrel’s Agility is 11. After everything is calculated, her starting Sneak skill 29 [Agility(11) + Tag(15) + 1/2 of Luck, Rounded Up(3)].

Misc

Once a character’s SPECIAL scores have been assigned, and their starting skills have been calculated, there are only two things remaining before the character is ready to play: hit points, and carrying capacity. Players do not begin the game with any caps or equipment. These must be gained through play.

A character’s starting hit points are equal to twice their Endurance score. A character’s carrying capacity is always equal to 100, plus their Strength times Five. So if Kestrel has a Strength of 15, her carrying capacity would be 175.

Leveling Up

Characters can level up by gaining experience points. Each time the character reaches 50xp, they receive a new level, and their experience resets to 0. Experience points are gained by overcoming challenges, with more experience points being awarded for greater challenges. Some examples include:

  • Opening difficult locks, hacking difficult computers, convincing someone of something which they were skeptical of, defeating an easy monster. (1 xp)
  • Defeating a difficult monster (2 xp)
  • Defeating an extremely difficult monster (3xp)
  • Completing a minor quest. (5xp)
  • Completing a major quest. (10xp)

Each time a character gains a new level, each of the following 3 things occurs:

  • The character’s maximum HP goes up by an amount equal to their current Endurance score.
  • The character receives a number of skill points equal to 10 + 1/2 their Intelligence. Each of these points may be spent to raise a skill by 1.
  • The character receives a perk, which will be given to them by the GM according to my Feat Slots system.

Example traits include:

  • Lightfooted. The character will never set off landmines.
  • Child at Heart. +15% to any social interactions with children.
  • Thief. 5 points each to the Sneak and Lockpick skills.
  • Intimidator. +10% to any Speech attempt where a believable threat is made.

Tomorrow I’ll post detailed information on how the game’s skills work.

Simple, Deadly Poisons

In appendix 1 of the Pathfinder Core Rulebook, a number of poisons are listed. Each poison has a bunch of attributes under their fancy schmancy names. The type indicates how the poison gets inside the body. The onset is how long it takes for the poison to begin its work, while the frequency is how often the poison’s effects will repeat, and for how long. The fortitude save varies by poison, and may be attempted each time the poison’s effects repeat. Normally a single save at any point will cause the poison’s effects to end, but sometimes multiple saves may be required (noted under “cure.”) To be fair, most of these poisons can be deadly, but they don’t really suit my needs when I’m designing a trap.

Poisons highlight a problem I have with Pathfinder: the numerous opportunities to save. It’s an excessive amount of rolling which seems designed to give players a better chance to resist whatever effect is directed at them. But I don’t see why. I prefer a game where an effect either happens, or it does not. A save is either passed, or failed. Allowing 6 saves for a given dose of poison just means that poison won’t be a very large threat to players, because they’ll almost always save within their first few rolls. And the one time that the odds are against them and they roll poorly numerous times in a row, dying because of it, they’re going to feel cheated because their fate was left up to random chance. Survivability from poisons should come in the form of the player’s ability to avoid becoming poisoned in the first place through intelligent play. It should not come in the form of an increased number of die rolls. Many effects, such as enchantments and diseases, suffer from this same problem.

For my own use, I’ve devised a simpler system for poisons which are much deadlier, and simpler to remember. Instead of being enumerated individually, poisons are created by the GM according to these basic guidelines. I don’t find that it’s important to identify the method of contraction, because that’s implied by the delivery method. If the poison is in cloud form, then its inhaled. If it is delivered by a needle, then it needs to be in the bloodstream to work. If it’s in food, it’s an ingested poison.

Most poisons belong to one of six types. These correspond to the six ability scores.

Strength poison weakens the muscles of the victim, and can eventually stop the heart. Constitution poison causes nausea, and makes it difficult to breathe, eventually leaving the victim too weak to swallow food, leading to death. Dexterity poison afflicts the victim’s control over their limbs, and can eventually leave the victim paralyzed. Intelligence poison causes the victim to lose focus, and can eventually leave them in a vegetative state. Wisdom poison tampers with the victim’s connection to reality, and can eventually drive them mad. Charisma poison is rare, and expensive. It saps the victim of their cheer, and personality, leaving them ill-tempered and prone to lashing out at their companions. Eventually Charisma poison can drive a person into such misery that they will wish to kill themselves.

Each of these poisons is available in five levels of potency.

Very Weak poison is old, and may have largely dried up. The save to resist it is 12, and it deals 2d4 damage to the indicated attribute.
Weak poison may be watered down, or perhaps not enough was applied. The save to resist is 15, and it deals 2d6 damage to the indicated attribute.
Normal poison has a save to resist of 17, and deals 3d6 damage to the indicated attribute.
Strong poison may be fresh, or taken from a particularly potent source. It has a save to resist of 20, and deals 4d6 damage to the indicated attribute.
Very Strong poison may have been refined by a master alchemist. It has a save to resist of 24, and deals 3d10 damage to the indicated attribute.

The five levels of potency scale nicely with the levels of character power in a given attribute. Weaker poisons are deadly if the character has a very low score for that attribute, while the stronger poisons are deadly for characters who have high scores in the given attribute.


Graph made with AnyDice

If the save is failed, then the poison will run its course unless an antidote is applied. The first die of the poison’s damage is rolled immediately when the poison is contracted. Every 15 minutes after, another die of the poison’s damage is rolled, until the damage has been dealt in its entirety. If the character takes strenuous action which gets the blood pumping (such as running to get the cure) then the poison may act more quickly (a die rolled every 10 minutes) while a character at rest may be able to hold out longer (a die rolled every 20 minutes)

If the poison reduces the character’s attribute below 0, then the damage is permanent, and the character suffers the fate indicated by the attribute the poison afflicted: death for Strength, inability to eat for Constitution, paralysis for Dexterity, vegetative state for Intelligence, insanity for Wisdom, and suicide for Charisma. If the poison ends its run (either naturally, or because the antidote was applied) before the character’s ability score reaches 0, then the score will regenerate at the standard rate of 1 point per day of rest, until it returns to its previous state.

Non standard poisons may exist, such as poisons unique to a specific creature. But when stocking a dungeon with traps, these six simple poisons in 5 different potencies are varied enough to be interesting, and deadly enough to make players think twice before they open a door with their bare hands.

The only flaw I see in the system is that since the poisons do not have names, players can’t seek antidotes for them. But that’s simple enough: give them names, and have shops sell antidotes for them. Or, better yet, come up with specific plants which can serve as antidotes for them, so players can learn those plants and search for them if they’re poisoned and don’t have any antidote on hand.

Synchronizing Calendars To Avoid Temporal Displacement

For a couple months now, I’ve been considering running a second campaign in my ToKiMo game world. It would be concurrent with my monthly Pathfinder game in that same world. Both groups of players would have free reign to explore and change the world as they desired. The effects of each group’s adventures would manifest themselves in the other group’s world. So if there are rumors of a great legendary sword hidden deep in the forest, then the first group to reach it claims their reward, while the second group to reach it only finds a stone with a strange slit in it.

I’ve wanted to do something like this for years now, ever since first reading the classic “Head of Vecna” tale. I wouldn’t want to pit the two adventuring parties against each other, because I personally don’t think that would be very fun. What I would like is for each party to add life to my game world. I do what I can to make the world around my players seem alive, but there’s only so much that a GM can do. By adding a second party to the mix, it becomes possible for one party to develop a place or an NPC through play, and then for the other party to enjoy the benefits of that development.

Most of the logistical problems involved in running two groups in the same world are minor. If group 1 loots a dungeon, then by the time group 2 arrives at the same dungeon, I’m sure other monsters will have moved in. And if treasure is hidden properly, than it’s doubtful that a single group will ever find all of it, so there ought to be plenty left for the next group to find. And if the players interfere with each other’s quests…well that just sounds awesome, actually. I don’t know why I would want to fix it. There is one problem, though, which I am at a loss for how to fix. How do I keep two games leashed to a single timeline?

When two parties are adventuring separately, what’s to keep them from ending up weeks or months apart from one another? If one of the groups wants to take a month off to craft a suit of armor, and the other group wants each session to begin right where the previous one left off, then this won’t work. There needs to be a method of keeping both parties in roughly the same time period. A task which is particularly difficult since my current group meets monthly, and my new group would probably need to be run bi-weekly.

My first thought is to make time a limited resource for the players. For the group meeting twice a month, they would have a maximum of 1 week to ‘spend’ during the session. For the group meeting only once a month, they would have 2 weeks to spend. Each group would also have the opportunity to spend any time they didn’t use during the game session on other tasks, such as crafting, magical research, carousing, etc. Making time a more tangible resource is something I’ve wanted to promote in my games for awhile, so this would help with that goal as well.

But what if a game session ends on a time sensitive goal? What if the adventuring party is charging into the dungeon to stop a sacrifice which will be performed on the 30th day of the Month of Blood, and they only have hours to spare when our time is up and the session must end? It would be unreasonable of me to force the players to start their next session a week or two into the future, if they didn’t run out of time to stop the sacrifice through play. They must be given the option, in these cases, of beginning the next session immediately where the previous left off.

Perhaps the best way to fix that is to implement a mandatory resting period after an adventure. If group 1 typically has two weeks worth of time to spend in any given session, but a session ends after only a single day, and the next session is a continuation of that same day, then the party must rest for 4 weeks after the adventure to recover from their injuries. I can’t think of a reason why my players would object to this–unless there are further time sensitive goals for them to worry about. If players did object, they could always be given penalties for adventuring while exhausted. A -1 to all physical rolls for each week of rest they miss should work.

But then there’s the opposite problem. What if a single game session ends up taking more time than is allotted to the group? Travel doesn’t take up a great deal of time in the real world–particularly if the players are taking a route they’ve followed many times in the past. But it does eat up game time much more quickly than other tasks do. If you’re running a 3 hour session, and you’ve given the players a week’s worth of time for that session, all they need to do is travel through roughly 30 hexes within the session to exceed the week you allotted for them. And while a lot can happen within 30 hexes, I don’t know if you can (or should) force travel to take up an excessive amount of real-world time just to keep your game’s calendar on track.

The only method I’ve been able to come up with for keeping both parties on track when one spends too much time traveling, is to quietly add a few days to the other party’s resting period at the end of their next session.

I can’t help but feel like I’m over complicating this. Maybe these are edge cases which won’t occur frequently in play. But the last thing I want is for this experiment to turn into a clusterfuck of time travel just because I didn’t create an adequate structure for managing the game’s calendar.

I would very much like some input on this issue, if anyone has relevant experience or thoughts!

Feat Slot System for Pathfinder

In a recent post I covered why I think feats are awesome, despite the significant problems with how they’ve been implemented in Pathfinder. In that post I also posited a couple of alternate systems which would avoid the flaws which D&D 3.X fell prey to. I quite liked some of the ideas I came up with, and based on feedback, so did many others. It seems as though this system would benefit from some further development. Below I’ve tailored the idea specifically to fit within the Pathfinder rules, since that is my primary system right now. However, I stand by the idea that the system could easily be adapted to work in just about any game. I’d be particularly interested to see how it would work in a retroclone compatible RPG.

The Feat Slot system would replace Pathfinder’s feats system. This might break a few minor rules, but none of it should be a significant impediment to the game. The only thing which comes to mind immediately is that Humans would lose one of their primary racial benefits. To compensate, humans will gain a feat slot at first level, while most races will not gain any until second level. In addition, when using this system I think it’s best (though, not necessary) to also remove the ability point which players gain every four levels. Feat Slots should be a net increase in player power, and remove the ability point will help mitigate that.

The rule itself is simple. At second level, and each level after that, characters gain a ‘Feat Slot.’ These slots start out empty, and they cannot be filled by the player. Instead, feats are determined by the GM in response to the character’s actions. The GM is under no obligation to fill these slots immediately, and is encouraged to wait until a feat has been properly ‘earned.’ Once a feat slot has been filled by the GM, it cannot be changed, and a character can never have more feats than they have feat slots available.

There are two ways in which feats can be earned. Individual GMs may develop their own criteria, though they are encouraged to avoid letting feats become part of a ‘build.’ One of the strengths of this system is that feats must be earned through play.

The first method of earning feats is for the character to spend time training with a specific task. The player and the GM should discuss what kind of training the player is doing, how they are facilitating that training (equipment, manuals, trainers…), and how long they intend to train for. 2 weeks is a good baseline, assuming that the character is not also spending that time in other tasks such as crafting magic items. Once the period of training is complete, the GM can grant the player a feat related to their training.

This method has a number of cool benefits. First, it doesn’t require a ton of attention or involvement from the GM. It also gives the players some sense of control over how their character develops, while still encouraging diegetic thinking. The player is not improving their character by finding a build online, or flipping through a sourcebook to find something which works for their character concept. They are taking actions within the game world, and gaining benefits based on those actions. This method also promotes a game where players need to manage time along with their other resources, which I like doing.

For the second method, the GM should take notes on the characters’ actions during game sessions. Specifically, the GM should record anything which a player attempts consistently, or which a player is particularly successful with. If, for example, George attempts a bull rush at the beginning of every combat, or Lindsay attempts something crazy and miraculously succeeds at it, then that should be noted down. When a feat slot becomes available (or immediately, if one already is available) the GM can award the player a feat based on those actions.

While the first method seems more strictly logical, I love how the second method allows character improvement to arise directly from play. In the past, I’ve rewarded players who succeed spectacularly at a given task by given them a permanent bonus to future attempts at the same task. In those cases it was an ad hoc ruling, but everyone enjoyed it, and I think it could function well in a more formalized system. The downside to the second method are that it requires a lot more of the GM’s attention. Players also have less involvement in deciding how their character progresses, but that can be viewed as a good or a bad thing.

The two methods are interchangeable, and no group is bound to use one method for all players, nor even to use one method for a single player. If the group is fine mixing and matching to fit their taste, then there should be no problem with that.

I still haven’t covered what the feats of this system would actually look like. By necessity, many or even most of them will need to be invented by the GM, and specifically tailored to what the player has done to earn the feat. As a general rule, feats should always make a character better at doing something they already had at least a chance to succeed at. (For detailed examples of this, read my original post on feats  from November 2011). Balance between feats is something which the GM should be aware of, but not something they should stress over. In the worst case scenario where a feat is allowing one player to dominate the game, a reasonable player will be amenable to having the feat nerfed. If that is not an option, the GM can always opt to reduce the power of that player’s feats in the future, and increase the power of the other player’s feats, until everyone is on somewhat even footing once again. If balance between party members is a major concern for you (though, in my mind, it should not be), then use the core rulebook’s feats as a guide.

To further clarify how this system would function, I’ll run through some examples.

1. Noelle the rogue is extremely fond of fighting with the rapier. She has a feat slot available, and asks the GM if she can devote extra time to training with that particular weapon. The GM tells her that a trainer is available in town who will work with her for 300gp per week, and Noelle agrees. After two weeks of training, Noelle’s purse is 600gp lighter, but the GM grants her the Weapon Focus (Rapier) feat. (+1 to attack rolls with rapier). After reaching her next level, Noelle asks the GM if she can spend still more time training with her rapier. The GM agrees, but since the party has been exploring the wilderness lately, no trainers are available. Noelle instead describes how she stuffs some old clothes with hay, and practices her point accuracy, and delivering solid blows. It takes her 3 weeks of intense training, but Noelle is given the Weapon Specialization (Rapier) feat in exchange. (+2 to damage rolls with rapier).

2. Amber’s fighter stays on point whenever the party is delving into a dungeon. They don’t have a rogue, which means it’s usually Amber’s job to find traps. And by ‘find,’ I mean ‘absorb with her large pool of hit points.’ The GM notices that Amber gets hit with a lot of traps, and determines that she may be developing a better sense of how to spot and avoid them. The GM grants her the Trap Sense Rogue ability, as described on page 69 of the Pathfinder Core Rulebook. It allows Amber to add 1/3rd of her level as a bonus to reflex saves and Armor Class against traps.

3. Hyde is a goodly wizard who is frustrated with undead creatures. The next time his party finds a large group of undead, Hyde captures a few dozen zombies, and takes them back to his magical laboratory. He tells the GM he would like to experiment on the undead creatures to see if he can make his spells more effective against them. The GM agrees, and Hyde spends 2 weeks cutting undead open, casting spells upon them, and doing everything he can to learn about this foe. When his research comes to a close, the GM informs Hyde that spells which can normally only be cast on living creatures can now (within reason) be cast on undead creatures as well. When casting a spell like that on an undead creature, however, Hyde must prepare the spell in a spell slot at least 1 level higher than the minimum required.

4. When one of her allies drops below 0 HP in a pitched battle, Jennifer the barbarian leaps forward to defend her fallen companion. The monster attacking her companion is fierce, but Jennifer bravely attacks it anyway, and rolls two twenties! One for each of the attacks she’s allowed to make this round. The extremely effective attack turns the tide of the battle, and saves the party. The GM notes that Jennifer still has a feat slot available, and grants her a permanent +4 to her attack rolls when any of her allies are at, or below, 0HP.

While it has not yet been playtested, I think the Feat Slot system has real potential. I’d be very interested to know what others think!

Changing my Dungeon Notation

I’m a long-winded kind of guy. When you get me talking, I tend to go on for a little bit longer than anybody wants to listen. It’s a failing which has often crept into my game mastering. When it’s time for me to make a dungeon, I’m inclined towards writing detailed descriptions for each room. Sometimes these descriptions can be a paragraph long or longer, noting what’s in the room, where that stuff is, what the room smells like, what it’s used for, and so on. It takes forever for me to finish a dungeon. And because of the time it takes, I’ve often had difficulty keeping to a gaming schedule. If I’m being honest, the paragraphs I write about rooms aren’t even that useful to me at the table. Every time the players enter a new room I need to flip through a large stack of papers, and once I find the description I need, reading it takes even more time. All the while my players wait, twiddling their thumbs and making dice towers.

My saving grace has always been improvisation. I’m good at figuring out what comes next while my players are describing what they’re doing right now. In fact my verbose note taking has given me many opportunities to practice my improvisation. I’ve sunk so much time into my notes in the past, that I often don’t have time to finish everything which need to be finished by game day. When the players arrive, I’ve often needed to come up with more content on the fly just to keep the game rolling. It doesn’t help that I have a penchant for games which last until everyone is exhausted of playing. One of my fondest memories is a ~14 hour overnight game session. I think I ran out of prepared material for that session within ~2 hours.

A couple months back whilst I was improvising a dungeon, it occurred to me that I’ve been a fucking moron. As much as I may personally enjoy writing comprehensive notes for my dungeons, this strategy has obviously not served me well, while improvisation always has. Why in the world have I wasted all of this time trying to write notes so detailed that I would never need to improvise? What I should have been doing instead is writing brief notes which give me structure, but still allow me to do most of my elaboration at the table.

Thus was born my new rule: Dungeon room descriptions must fit on a single line of handwritten notebook paper. One additional line each can be added for traps (T), secrets (S), monsters (M), and loot (L) if any (or all) of those are present. The descriptions need not be complete, because anything missing can easily be filled in during play.

If the descriptions says “Bedroom in bad shape. Rotted. Bed, Armoire Fireplace, Painting of a woman.” then when the players enter the room I might say “It looks as though this bedroom was once very fine. The bed appears to be made of oak, but the mattress sags to the floor and emits a stench of mold. From the bed’s canopy you can hear the skittering of vermin. An ornately carved Armorie rests against the north wall, while on the east wall is a fireplace filled with ash. Above it is a painting of a woman.” And if, for some reason, my players decide they want to smash the bed and ask if there are any blunt object nearby, I may say “There’s an iron firepoker laying next to the fireplace.”

Additional lines are just as easy, and might add bits of detail to the room which were omitted in the original description. For example, in one octagonal room I have mirrors on every wall which doesn’t have a door on it. The S line says only “If the mirror on the wall marked with an S is pressed, it swings open revealing a locked safe.” The T line reads “Safe has needle trap [relevant numbers]. If any mirror other than that one is pressed, a spear is launched from behind the mirror. [relevant numbers].” Finally, the L line reads “Safe contains bag of 200gp, and a small bronze statue of a cat. Non-magical. Worth 50gp.”

I’ve already run 3 sessions using this notation system, and I’ve found it to be remarkably effective. I’ve never found dungeons more fun to run, or more fun to create, in all my years of GMing. I expect that the system will continue to evolve the more I use it. Tomorrow I’ll post the first sublevel of The Ironbone Tower dungeon, to serve as a full example of how I’m currently using this method.

The Awesome Thing about Feats

Over a year ago I wrote a post called The Problem with Feats. It was the first piece of my tabletop writing which got much attention, thanks to Courtney of Hack & Slash. In many ways that post represents a significant shift in my thinking about game mechanics, and serves as a signpost for how I developed over the following year. Even though I would probably write it differently now, it stands among my favorite posts from those first few tentative months of writing. But as I mentioned in that post, I don’t hate feats. I was, and am, highly critical of the way feats have been implemented in the various iterations of D&D 3.X, but I hold that the concept is sound. Feats bring a lot more to the table than increased complication and power creep.

The most obvious benefit of feats is that they allow for greater mechanical character customization. I will not argue that player options aren’t highly overvalued in D&D 3.X, because they are. The overwhelming bloat of these customization options becomes particularly apparent when you notice that players are often using ‘builds’ they found online, because the number of options available is too great for most players to reasonably grasp them. But it would be fallacious to assume that just because something is overvalued, that means it has no value at all. Simplicity is good, but it should not be the ultimate goal of a game. The ultimate goal of a game should be to facilitate fun. And people have fun when they can personalize their stuff. That’s why people decorate their cubicle, or put knick knacks on the dashboard of their car. Personalization is important to us.

Maybe it’s presumptuous of me, but I can already hear the response to that statement from my OSR-leaning readers: “But LS, you sexy pile of fat folds” they will cry out in unison. “Customization is achieved through play! It’s about the goals you pursue, the loot you find, and the stronghold you build!”

To which I respond: yes. You are correct. But feats offer a level of personalization to players which none of those elements can match. Because gold can be stolen, and magic items can be destroyed. Friendly NPCs can be killed, conquered towns can be burned to the ground, and even the mightiest castle can be razed. But so long as the player’s character lives, a feat can never be taken away from them. There’s something to be said for an inherent ability. One which you cannot lose any more than you could lose your racial or class abilities.

That’s why I love feats. At least, I love them in theory. But theory’s just half of the equation. The other half is finding a way to implement feats in practice. A way which highlights the strength of this kind of player option while avoiding the common pitfalls which can reduce player agency by placing arbitrary limits on what players are allowed to attempt. It must also avoid complicating the game by introducing endless lists of possible feats to be combed through and analyzed by players who ought to be playing. What I wrote a year ago still rings true to me. A good feat is one which makes a character better at something they can already attempt. In Pathfinder, many of the combat maneuver feats are examples of how feats should be designed. Improved Trip, Improved Bull Rush, Improved Sunder, etc. Anybody can attempt to disarm their opponent, but someone who has the Improved Disarm feat have learned how to keep their guard up when they do it, so they don’t provoke an attack of opportunity. Their enhanced disarming skill also grants them a +2 to disarm attempts, and to defending against disarm attempts.

Ultimately, I would like to see the endless list of feats which fill the pages of every new rulebook replaced with a comprehensive system for creating feats. Something which players and GMs could work out together. Perhaps a sliding scale where the bonuses granted by a feat can be more powerful, the more specific of a situation that feat could be used in. As a simple example, characters could take a feat which gave them a +1 to attack rolls when using axes, +2 to attack rolls when fighting undead, or +4 to attack rolls when fighting vampires. Since “using axes” is very general and could potentially be applied to every attack roll the character ever makes, it receives a very small bonus of only +1. Undead aren’t going to be part of every combat, though, so a feat which only works against them won’t come into play quite as often. Since its use would be less frequent, the bonus can be higher. And vampires are just a more extreme example of that. Fighting vampires is likely to be very uncommon in a standard campaign, so the bonus to fighting them can be quite large.

I don’t mean to imply that the above system should be implemented, mind you. In order to be made workable, such a system would require a lot of mathematical tinkering, and a lot more thought than I’ve given it. That’s just a suggestion for how the current Pathfinder feat system might be modified and replaced to avoid the problem with feats which I described in my earlier post.

A more workable, and dare I say, retroclone compatible feat system would be as follows:

At each level after first, a character gains one feat slot. This slot confers no immediate advantage, and players are not able to select a feat to fill the slot themselves. For the time being, they should simply indicate that a feat slot is available, and it will remain available until it is filled. During play, if a character with an open feat slot excels with a certain type of action or style of play, the GM can reward the player by granting them a feat to represent & enhance that excellence.

Excellence can be demonstrated a number of ways. Players showing preference for a specific tactic is the most obvious choice. For example, a character who frequently throws flasks of lantern oil might be granted a feat which gives them +1 to throwing grenade-like projectiles. Other ways to demonstrate excellence would be for the character to devote a certain amount of in-game time to training. In this way, players could more directly choose their feats. By finding a vampire hunter and training under her for 3 weeks, a thief might be given a feat which allows their backstab attack to function against vampires. GMs could also reward game-changing rolls with a feat. I once wrote a post describing how a level 1 goblin successfully defeated a much higher level monster by making an excellent roll to throw a bomb into the creature’s mouth. From then on we allowed that particular goblin to add a +4 anytime they wanted to throw an item into a small space, and that’s a perfect example of how this feat system could work.

One might argue that this undermines the virtue of customization which I espoused earlier in this post, but it does not. At least, not necessarily. First, most of the methods for receiving feats are dictated first by the player’s actions. The GM merely interprets how those actions should be rewarded. Second, even if the player is not making the decision directly of which feats they would like to have, their character still becomes progressively more unique. The character evolves not only according to their class, but also according to the adventures they’ve had, and the way they’ve lived their life. That seems like an excellent supplement to traditional class-based progression in my view.

Rethinking Rations

At my game table I have a bowl filled with poker chips. At the start of every game, my players look at their inventory and pull out a number of white chips equal to their ammunition, red chips equal to their torches/lantern oil, and blue chips equal to their rations. As we play, chips go into the bowl when these consumables are used, and come out of the bowl when they’re purchased. When the game ends, the players count their chips, and update their character sheets. It’s an efficient system which allows me to be strict about consumable use, without requiring my players to perform a lot of annoying bookkeeping. I think I originally got the idea from Telecanter.

Prior to using this system I was the bad sort of GM who just hand-waved consumables out of the game because they were too much of a pain in the ass to keep track of. I find I enjoy the game much more since I’ve started using this system, though. Tracking ammunition has the largest impact on the game, since players need to be much more conscious about how frequently they use their bows. After a few hours of frequent combat, the ranger starts to get nervous, and that makes the game exciting. Tracking light sources has less of an impact, but it serves as a timer for how long your players can travel underground. Gods help them if they use more than half of their lantern oil on the way down into the dungeon.

Rations, on the other hand, have yet to play any important role in my games. My players track them because I’ve told them they need to do that. They dutifully toss a chip into the bowl at the end of each adventuring day, and when they free a prisoner or find someone in need, they share their poker chips with that person. But tracking rations has never served an actual purpose in the year or more that I’ve been doing it. It’s just a rote action of taking chips out of, and putting them back into the bowl. What is the point?

I don’t want to return to hand-waving rations because of this issue. Limited food resources has too much potential value. There’s a huge desert in the northern part of the continent my players are on. If they ever try to travel there, days away from any town, running out of food is going to be a serious concern. I’ve also begun work on a megadungon which extends dozens of levels beneath the earth. Again, in that situation, the possibility of starving is going to create excitement and urgency in the game. I won’t sacrifice that. But I also don’t want to continue tracking rations day-by-day, purchase-by-purchase for all the sessions where there’s no actual danger of food running out.

Starting with my next Pathfinder session in a couple weeks I’m going to switch things up. First off, I’ve been having players track 1 week’s worth of rations as 1 significant item using my encumbrance system. (A system which I intend to revisit and revise soon). Based on how much food actually weighs, rations in my game are far too light. Looking over military rations used by the U.S. within the last 30 years shows that a single meal can weigh as much as 2.7lb using relatively modern technology. Assuming three meals a day, a week’s rations is nearly 60lb! That’s hardly in line with other significant items, such as a greatsword, which might weight 10lb. Three days of food, at about 25lb, seems like a much more reasonable weight for a single significant item.

Having determined how a character’s carrying capacity converts into food, I’ll then have my players tell me how much of that carrying capacity they’re willing to devote to food. If they allocate 1 significant item to rations, then they have 3 days worth. If they allocate 2 SI, then they have 6 days worth, and so on. It will be assumed that any time the players visit civilization, (barring extenuating circumstances), they’ll find time to purchase food. The cost will be rolled into their standard upkeep costs. Using this method, the players can just write “6 days of food (2 SI)” on their inventory sheet. All I need to do is ask once every 3 days away from civilization if the players have enough food. If they do, we continue on without a hitch, if they don’t, then things start to get interesting.

Using this system should maintain all of the interesting aspects of tracking rations, but reduce the bookkeeping aspects to a minimum.

Evil Rituals

Evil rituals will show up in any fantasy themed adventure game from time to time. Maybe some cultists are trying to summon their lovecraftian god, or perhaps they’re attempting to transform their high priest into a huge monster. Either way, the GM will need to produce a ritual for the players to try and stop.

The way I see it, each ritual has three essential elements: preparation, preamble, and catalyst. There are also a fourth element which is optional: Timing. While not all rituals will require it, sometimes they will only work if they are performed at a certain time, such as during a full moon, when the planets align, or on the anniversary of an important event.

The preparation for a ritual may involve gathering the necessary components, or learning an ancient incantation which must be spoken for the ritual to succeed. Strictly speaking the preparatory phase is not part of the ritual proper, but it is vital to the success of the ritual. Additionally, the preparation phase is frequently how the players will learn about an upcoming evil ritual, and it serves as the best opportunity to nip the villain’s evil plans in the bud.

When the time for the ritual actually arrives, it begins with the preamble, which can go on for a long while  The length serves two purposes. First, it lends greater weight to the upcoming catalyst portion of the ritual. This buildup is essential, because nothing of great importance is accomplished quickly. Secondly, the duration of the preamble is the only period of time when the ritual has begun, but has not yet resulted in anything really bad happening. This gives time for the players to act to stop the ritual, which can be exciting.

The final phase of a ritual is the catalyst. This is short, generally a single action which will trigger whatever end result the ritual was intended to produce. If the cultists are summoning their evil god, then the moment the catalyst action is performed, then the portal will open, and the dark god will step through it.

Below are ideas for the preamble and catalyst of an evil ritual. Mix and match as you choose! A ritual could even combine multiple preambles together, as many real world religious ceremonies do. Additionally, almost any of these rituals could require a certain number of people to participate.

Preamble

Reading from an important book: Sacred texts have great power, particularly in religious ceremonies.  But an arcane ceremony could also include this trope. Perhaps a wizard summoning a demon must read that demon’s 20-page true name in its entirety before the demon will respond.

Singing/Chanting: While it may sound a little silly to sing at a ritual, this is actually quite common in many real world rituals. Imagine, for example, most christian ceremonies. They include a great deal of singing. Many Native American rituals do as well.

Praying: Normally a very particular prayer would need to be said, one which glorifies the being who will choose to grant, or not grant, the ritual’s end result.

Telling a story, giving a speech: Storytelling has long been an important part of human culture. To use a real world example, imagine that those performing the ritual wished to ask Heracles to bestow his strength upon them for an upcoming battle. Part of that ritual may involve a recitation of the 12 labors of Heracles.

Torture: The victim here could either be willing or unwilling, and the torture need not end in death. Perhaps the victim of the torture will even end up being the beneficiary of the ritual’s gifts. The god must see that the person they are empowering is willing to endure suffering.

Creating An Appropriate Environment: If done ritualistically (especially in combination with one of the other Preamble elements above) this could be part of the ritual itself, rather than part of the ritual’s preparation. Imagine, for example, a dozen cultists painting arcane symbols on their bodies, while a high priest chants the words of a magic spell.

Catalyst

Sacrifice: The numerous ways in which a victim could be sacrificed could be a post unto itself. Nearly any way a person could be killed might be used in an evil ritual. I, personally, would avoid the cliche of tying the person to an altar and stabbing them with a ceremonial knife. Be creative, and make the catalyst match the theme. If the cultists are summoning a tidal wave to wipe out a city, then drown the victim. If they’re summoning the god of snakes, then have them kill the victim with poison snakes.

Sex: This one works best if the result of the evil ritual is being applied to the child which is being conceived at the time. By having sex under the full moon while a dozen cultists chant prayers to The God of Horribleness, the child will be born as the Avatar of Horribleness.

Inducting New Members: Evil religions make a big to-do out of bringing new members into the fold. At the conclusion of an evil ritual, a new member could be baptized (whatever that means for the particular religion), thus increasing the number of the evil god’s followers.

Desecration of a Holy Object: Destroying a sacred artifact of great power, or otherwise desecrating something which radiates holy magic is sure to please any evil god, and weaken the followers of good.

Cannibalism: It’s difficult to imagine an act more evil than this. Once a person eats another, there can be no redemption for them. So it makes the perfect centerpiece to an evil ritual.

Natural Necromancy

I’m a big fan of the idea of ‘natural magic’. By which I do not mean magic with a naturalistic source, such as the magic used by a shaman or a druid. Frankly I’ve always found ‘nature’ as a power source for magic to be boring. Rather, by ‘natural magic,’ I refer to magical effects which have no caster. Magic which merely exists for one reason or another. Sometimes it is merely a law of the universe that when X or Y occurs, a magical effect will happen. Other times a place may become inherently magical because a great deed was performed there. Or in some cases there may have even been a caster involved at one time, but  it was so long ago and the magic has taken on an effect so different from what the caster intended, they can’t properly be called responsible it.

Natural magic could come from any school. A natural abjuration effect may prevent demons from treading upon the ground where a saint was martyred. Whereas a natural enchantment might come about because two famous lovers once carved their initials into a tree, and now any who sleep beneath that tree fall in love. But as my readers well know by now, Necromancy is kinda my thing. It also suits the Halloween season.

And since I went to all the trouble of dressing the site up for Halloween, I ought to write some seasonal shit, right? Right. Lets do this.

Necromatic Rift

Occasionally a rift will form at an intersection between two planes. An opening into the abyss might allow demons to come through into our world. Likewise, a rift which opened between the material plane and the plane of negative energy could cause any number of necromantic spell effects to occur. I like the idea that the shape of the rift determines how the negative energy filters through, which determines what spell effect it produces. The size of the rift could affect that spell’s power. I explored this idea in detail in an old post of mine called The Crypt of Ancient Wisdom.

A Necromatic Rift ice nice because it has the greatest potential for variety. They can appear anywhere, and cause anything. For example, a necromantic rift could sap the strength of anyone who dared venture into a certain valley, leaving them physically weak for the duration of their time there. Another necromatic rift could cause anyone buried in a certain graveyard to rise as vampires, or, as in the case of the Tragedy of the Gorovik Family, it could cause everyone in a certain crypt to be affected by a constant “Speak with Dead” effect.

Necrotic Rifts need not be a bad thing, either. While necromancy is regarded as an evil art, many spells of the Necromancy school (at least in Pathfinder and D&D) are not inherently evil. Spells such as Speak with Dead interact with death, but do so in a manner which is respectful. Or, at least, not an overt desecration. It would be easy to use a rift as a source of conflict within your game, but it could also serve as a prize for the party’s caster. Upon discovering and recognizing a Necrotic Rift, a caster could sacrifice one of their spell slots for the day to manipulate the rift, and cast any necromancy spell of equal level to the one they sacrificed. (They need not have the spell in any of their spell books to do this.)

Type of Death

The dead rising based on how they were killed or laid to rest has strong mythological and cultural grounding. If you’ve ever seen a slasher film you know what I’m talking about. The villain returned from the grave because they were betrayed, or because they were buried in a Native American burial ground, or simply because they were so damned evil that Lucifer himself rejected them.

The manner of death always affects the manner of undeath in these cases. A woman who is drowned by her lover and his mistress, for example, will spend her un-life on a quest to drown any pair of lovers she encounters. Particularly if they’re being unfaithful to others. Note that type of death can cause natural necromancy through either the action, or the inaction of the living. If the living actively cause the death of a person, such as in the example above, it can create a vengeful undead. If the living neglect the proper burial rituals of a corpse (whatever those rituals may be), that can also create an undead creature. Though these are often less specifically vengeful, and more generally aggressive towards the living.

Necromatic Fallout

I like nuclear fallout. Not in a literal sense, of course. Literally speaking, nuclear fallout is awful. But I love the idea that a large event can leave a residue of itself behind for centuries. Countless events could leave a necromatic residue behind on the landscape. For example. I imagine the spot where Vecna’s tower once stood, before it collapsed, would still be an area of powerful necromatic magic. Perhaps anything which died there would rise as a zombie or skeleton. If it is particularly powerful, perhaps anything which even enters the area must make a save versus death. Vecna is a god now, after all.

Other examples of events which could cause necromatic fallout would be the birth of an evil god, or a place where powerful necromancy spells were cast over and over again over a long period of time. The site of a great plague or genocide might also create a necromatic fallout. I also like the idea that an unsanctified graveyard or crypt might draw necromatic powers to itself, making itself an unholy place in the absence of blessings to keep evil at bay.

Identifying Magic Items in Pathfinder

All the way back in April, I declared that I was fed up with the way magic items are identified in Pathfinder. Furthermore, I said that I was going to fix it. I’ve been lazy, but I’m going to work on not being lazy anymore. So lets get to work. Forgive me if this post is a little more brusk than my writing normally is.

There are two steps to identifying a magical item. The first step is to determine whether the item is magical at all. In some cases this may be obvious, such as in the case of a glowing sword. But not every magical item will be obviously magical. And some items which seem as though they should be magical might not be. A jewel encrusted shield might just be a fragile display piece, good for selling, but not for using. Once it has been determined that an item is magical, the second step is to figure out what the item actually does, and how a character can make the item do that thing. Depending on how the game works, a +1 mace might always be a little more accurate and deal a little more damage, but something less obvious could require some know-how in order to use. Such as an activation word for a wand.

Before I go further, I’d like to review precisely how Pathfinder’s item identification works according to the core rule book. That way we’re clear on where we’re starting from. Relevant parts of the system are described in a number of places. First, from the “Spellcraft” skill description.

“This skill is also used to identify the properties of magic items in your possession through the use of spells such as detect magic and identify.“, “Attempting to ascertain the properties of a magic item takes 3 rounds per item to be identified and you must be able to thoroughly examine the object”, “When using detect magic or Identify to learn the properties of magic items, you can only attempt to ascertain the properties of an individual item once per day. Additional attempts reveal the same result.”, “Identify the properties of a magic item using detect magic: 15 + item’s caster level.”

The spell description for Detect Magiccan be found on page 267 of the PFCRB, but essentially all the spell allows you to do is identify that magic auras are present, and help you determine the school of said aura, and which specific items or persons they are emanating from. The spellcraft skill can then be used as described above (DC 15 + item’s caster level) to determine the item’s specific use and activation word, etc. The spell description for Identify can be found on page 299 of the PFCRB, but it pretty much only says “+10 to spellcraft checks made to identify magic items.”

 I don’t like this system because:

  • I hate it when spells are neutered so that they can fit within the broken skills system. Identify should not be a +10 to your identification ability.
  • I don’t see the point in having a failure chance for identifying magical items. At least not a completely random failure chance. It could be interesting to construct the rules so that players could miss magical items through poor play.
  • I’ve recorded game sessions in the past. I like to listen to them and judge what works and what doesn’t as an outside observer. Here’s what the discovery of a magic item sounds like:

ME: You find 100 gold pieces and a sword with a silver blade and a dragon’s head carved into the wooden handle.
Players: Check to see if it’s magical.
Sorcerer/Wizard/Whatever: I roll to see if it’s magical.
[Success]Me: It is a +2 sword.
[Success]Players: Yay! Who needs it?
[Failure]Me: It does not appear to be magical to you.
[Failure]Players: It was a low roll. Lets keep it and try again tomorrow!

This conversation is boring. It is pointless. And it is a waste of everyone’s time.

Here is my proposal for Pathfinder magic item identification. I haven’t playtested this yet, but I’ll implementing it in my game, and hopefully it will be an improvement over the way the system currently works.
Magic Users–Wizards, Sorcerers, Clerics, etc.–can identify whether an item is or is not magical by focusing on it for about five minutes. Characters who cannot cast spells are unable to do this. If the party does not wish to spend the time necessary to determine whether an item is magical, the spell Detect Magic can be used to immediately identify all magical items within the caster’s field of vision. When using this spell, the items will glow a particular color, corresponding to the school of magic which the item is most strongly associated with. Only the caster is able to see these auras, and they do not provide any more information than the fact that the item is magical, and what school it is associated with.
Each magical item in Pathfinder has a “Caster Level.” If the caster level of an item is equal to or lower than the caster level of a magic user, then that magic user may determine the item’s function and method of activation by studying it for 5 minutes. If the players do not wish to spend this amount of time, or if the items in question are too high level to be identified, then the caster may use the Identify spell. This spell must be cast individually for each item which needs to be identified, but works instantaneously. Also, using the Identify spell, a caster may determine the properties of a magic item up to 3 caster levels above their own.
If no magic user is available, or if an item is too high level to be identified by the party’s magic user, then the party may seek out and consult a sage. Sages are very learned, and often have magical powers of their own to call upon. For a fee (200gp * Item’s Caster Level) the Sage will identify it for the party. It will require at least one week’s worth of time. For particularly powerful magic items, or artifacts, the sage may require additional funds and time, or may be entirely unable to identify the item at all. In that case, the sage would likely know of another sage which the party could consult, and offer them at least a partial refund.
What do you think? I’m open to criticism here.