Training Groups of NPCs

Over the many many years which I’ve played my Rogue/Warlock, Zalekios, he has often run into a group called the Dragon Forged. Truth be told, I don’t even recall our first encounter. I believe they tried to accost me on the road, followed by a healthy dose of torturous murder on my part. If I recall correctly, I was so annoyed with their attempt to burgle me, that I performed the closest thing to a good deed which Zalekios has ever attempted. I rooted out their evil plan to trick the nation of Alamon into going to war with their southern neighbor, Mulgran, and foiled it simply to spite them. Alamon awarded me with a rather rare artifact, and I believe I’m still considered a minor hero in that kingdom, since I never had a second adventure in that area.

The Dragon Forged have been a pebble in my shoe ever since. And as I’ve gained higher and higher levels, my dealings with them have become ever more comical. Most recently I was awakened by one of my goblins and alerted to the fact that my tower was under siege. I look out over my balcony, and what do I see but two small warbands of Dragon Forged, impotently attempting to break down my door. So I spend a few rounds lobbing Eldritch Blasts at them before I get bored, jump off the third story balcony, and attack the low-level twats in melee.

What? Zalekios has a wisdom modifier of 0. It’s ROLE PLAYING. >.>

The rabble is dispatched quickly enough, and I’m left wondering why my GM would waste time on such a pointless little skirmish. I actually made sure I kept a few of the pests alive, just so I could torture them and hopefully discover why the GM had chosen to send them against me. But first, I resolved, I would finish my night’s rest.

Yet no sooner had I laid my evil head to my evil pillow, than I was awakened yet again. I seriously considered killing the goblin this time, but Zalekios is trying to work on conserving his resources better, and I resisted. The goblin had a good reason to awaken me anyway: there was a dragon circling the tower. Thinking my GM was sending me a somewhat more deadly challenge, I rushed to the balcony, skeletal hands glowing black with eldritch might. But the dragon didn’t attack. It alighted on my balcony, and morphed into a human shape.

This dragon, as it turned out, was the dragon in ‘Dragon Forged.’ Apparently his goal all along has been to cause all the great nations on the continent to go to war with each other, and continue warring until nothing is left but ruination. Being Chaotic Evil himself, Zalekios is fond this this notion. The dragon had also noticed that, given his follower’s repeated failures, and my repeated pwning of them, that perhaps I was just the psychopath to lead him to victory. He offered me a position as his chief lieutenant, with complete command over the forces of the Dragon Forged, to the end bringing about the catastrophe we both desired.

It took me a few days, but I came up with a rather solid plan I think. It’s not only multi-layered, but has fail-safes which kick in if some element of the plan fails. Made me feel like god-damned Xanatos. The details of that plan, however, may be written about at a later date after I’ve had an opportunity to see how the plan unfolds. However, one of the elements of the plan was that I required the Dragon Forged to not suck. To that end, my GM and I worked out some simple rules for training large groups of NPCs. I’m not sure if I’ve seen rules for anything like this in any official supplements, so they may be of use to you if you are ever in need.

A character can train a group of NPCs in any class that character has at least 3 levels in. For example, a 4th level rogue / 2nd level fighter can train a group how to be rogues, but not how to be fighters.
A group of NPCs can never be trained to a class level higher than 2 levels below the current class level attained by their teacher. For example, a 10th level rogue can train a group of NPCs to be level 8 rogues, but not level 9 rogues.
Each level requires [2 * The Level Being Trained To] months. For example, training a group from level 6 to level 7 requires 14 months.
Training costs [1000 * The Level Being Trained To] gold pieces. For example, training a group from level 6 to level 7 costs 7000 gold. This cost is for training only. Items such as training equipment etc. Any cost for food and lodging of the trainees would be extra.
Training more than 10 people at a time adds a 2% failure rate for each additional person. For example, if you’re training 10 people, then there is no failure rate. However, if you’re training 11 people at once, then you must roll a D%. If you roll 1-2, then the training fails and the materials and time is wasted. Training 12 people at once has a 4% failure rate, training 13 has a 6% failure rate, and so on.
Hirelings can be used to train groups in classes which they have.
New Feat: “Teacher:” Characters who have this feat only need to spend half as much money when training groups of NPCs.
New Feat: “Improved Teacher:” Characters who have this feat reduce their failure rate for students above 10 to 1%. (11 students has a 1% failure rate, 12 students has a 2% failure rate, and so on.)

I quite like the system. At first glance, and for our game, it balances well. Each level of training comes with a cost in both time and money which keeps the system from being abused to create massive armies. Also, note that this system says nothing about loyalty. Simply that skills are imparted from one high level character, to multiple lower level characters. If the GM is feeling particularly dickish, he or she could simply have the students turn on their teacher once they have nothing more to learn.

I’m sure the system has numerous flaws, though. It was really just slapped together by the two of us chatting back and forth one evening. I’d be interested to hear anyone’s thoughts on what flaws it has, or how it could be improved.

Stuff Which Never Works

I love RPGs. You probably figured that out by now, given that you’re reading the RPG blog which I update five times a week. I think they’re a fun, community-building form of entertainment, which offers nearly limitless possibilities for those who play. But for all that is good about RPGs, there are some things which simply do not work within the medium. At least I’ve never seen them work, but maybe I’m just missing something. Thus, in the interest of exploring these failings of the medium, I’ve gathered three elements of gameplay which have never been anything but a game-slowing nuisance for me. I’ll detail why it would be nice if they did work, why they don’t work, and if I can think of one, I’ll offer a possible solution.

I’d really like to encourage readers (no matter how old this post is when you read it!) to chime in on this one. What game elements have you encountered which never seem to work well? Do you have any solutions to the three outlined below which I didn’t think of? Is there a system which actually handles any of these well?

Ammunition is an easy one to start with. In the real world, any projectile weapon has a limited number of uses based on how many projectiles are available. Once you’ve fired your revolver six times, you either need to reload, or come up with a new plan. In a medieval fantasy game like Pathfinder, arrows and crossbow bolts take the place of bullets, and the threat of running out adds an exciting depth to the game. Not only does limiting a player’s ammunition force them to use it more intelligently, but it also forces players who favor ranged weapons to have a plan for how they’ll contribute to the battle once their quiver is empty. After that happens once or twice, players will start to understand the necessity of scavenging for unbroken arrows after a battle. And eventually, when the GM chooses to include a Quiver of Unending Arrows in a pile of treasure, it will become a player’s most precious possession.

But keeping track of ammunition is a pain in the ass. Amongst the player’s starting equipment, they purchase fifty or a hundred arrows. And then what? Every time they fire their bow they’re supposed to take the time to erase that number and replace it with one number lower? Players are focused on whether or not they hit what they were shooting at. If they did, then they’re concerned about damage, and if they didn’t, they’re concerned with muttering to themselves about how badly they’re rolling today. Keeping track of ammo is even more burdensome if the GM tries to handle it. GMs are the center of everyone’s attention during combat, and they need to ration their time carefully in order to keep things moving. Giving their attention to minor details like how many arrows a player has left would kill combat flow. Every group I’ve been in has just house ruled it so that once you purchase arrows once, you have a full quiver for life.

Truthfully, I haven’t thought of a good solution to this one yet. I did consider making ranged weapons usable only a certain number of times per combat / certain number of times per day, but that’s just lazy game design. Fortunately, Telecanter of Receding Rules came up with a solid alternative called simple ammunition tracking. Rather than reduce the total amount of ammo by one each time it is used, players using projectile weapons each get a stack of poker chips. After each encounter during which the projectile weapon was used, the player gives up one chip to the GM, regardless of how many or how few arrows they fired. Once they’re out of chips, they’re out of arrows. It’s a good house rule. It doesn’t suffer from the inane number tracking problems that the core game’s method does, and it grants most of the benefits of keeping track of / running out of arrows.

To be honest, though, it doesn’t seem like a good fit for my games. Solid as Telecanter’s simple ammo tracking rule is, it doesn’t allow for the possibility of running out of ammunition in the middle of combat, which is the most interesting time to run out! For the present, I’m still looking for a better system of ammunition tracking.

Encumbrance is a problem which goes hand in hand with ammunition. Including a good encumbrance system in your game places reasonable & interesting limitations on the player characters. It rewards strong characters for being strong, which helps take the edge off how overpowered casters can be. It also provides the GM with a multitude of adventure options which wouldn’t be available if characters could carry whatever they want. Removing treasure from a dungeon, and finding a place to store that treasure, become adventures in themselves. And like the Quiver of Unending Arrows, an encumbrance system turns items which have become commonplace and boring, such as exceptionally light armor, or a bag of holding, into treasures worth questing for.

Unfortunately, encumbrance suffers from the same problem of excessive calculation that ammunition systems have. When a player is looking through the equipment chapter of the core rulebook, and they see that each and every item has a weight calculated down to ounces, they can’t help but balk at the idea of keeping track of it all. Every time anything is added to a pack, or removed from it, its weight must be added or subtracted from the grand total amount of weight being carried by the character, and then checked against the character’s maximum load to determine whether or not that character is now encumbered. I’ve never met a single GM who bothers with such rules. I have met a few who use simplified versions of those rules, but even those simplified rules often seem overly complicated to me.

I discussed this issue with a friend at length last night. He was of the opinion that encumbrance rules should simply be discarded as useless to gameplay. Despite the benefits, he said, there’s just no way to make things simple enough to be fun. I tried to come up with an example of an ultra-simple encumbrance system to use as a counterargument, and inadvertently struck on an idea which I think I may start using in my games.

A character’s strength score is the maximum amount of significant items which can be carried without becoming encumbered. Significant items are identified by the GM at the time of acquisition, and may include: a 50ft coil of rope, a 10ft pole, a sword, a suit of armor, or five hundred coins of any denomination. Items might qualify as significant based either on weight or on size, but no item which is not significant counts against encumbrance in any quantity. A character may carry as many non-significant items as they like without them counting against encumbrance, even if the sum total of their parts (such as fifty potions) would be heavier and more unwieldy than any single significant item (such as a sword). In some special cases, the GM may choose to make a particularly heavy or unwieldy item count as two or more significant items, though it is recommended that this be used only in special cases. Common adventuring equipment such as armor should never count for more than one significant item.

Chase Scenes are a huge problem in RPGs. What’s great about them should be obvious: they’re exciting. They’re a unique kind of encounter which, if I could figure out how to run one, would make escaping just as much fun as standing your ground to fight. But what’s exciting when every character has a pre determined speed? If your speed is 30, and your pursuer’s speed is 35, then eventually you’re going to be overrun. Numerous books discuss methods to make chases more engaging for players, but when speed is a set number there’s only so much you can do.

I think the best way to overcome this problem is to encourage our players to think creatively while escaping (or giving chase). Halflings, with their lower speed, should try to use their size to their advantage by going places where larger characters can’t. Other characters can attempt to use obstacles, or creative shortcuts to overcome the static speed problem. And of course, players being able to do this is contingent on the GM’s ability to improvise a constantly changing environment for the players to dash through. Being intimately familiar with Pathfinder’s movement and running rules (Pathfinder Core Rulebook Pages 170-172) can’t hurt either. They provide useful mechanics for exhaustion, which determines when somebody in the chase is forced to give up.

There are a number of other things which I’ve never been happy with. Keeping time is nearly impossible, and the game makes it far too difficult to sneak up behind someone and knock them out. I’m sure there are others as well, but I think three is sufficient for this post. Particularly because I’m currently operating at a significant sleep debt, and very desperately need to get in bed early tonight!

As I mentioned above, I’d like to encourage comments on this post. On every post, actually, but on this one in particular. Let me know what elements of gameplay have never worked to your satisfaction. Or even better, let me know if you’ve got any better solutions than those I’ve come up with!

Thoughts On Hero Points

Hero points, alternatively known as action points, have been a part of tabletop role playing games since days of yore. They’re a quirky and polarizing concept, often lurking around the edge of a game system’s rules. A hero point mechanic for any given game is either a very commonly used house rule, or it’s an optional rule presented in an officially published supplement. There are those games which use them as standard rules (D&D 4th Edition comes to mind), but in my experience those games are in the minority.

For those who are unfamiliar, a game which employs such a mechanic allows characters to gain hero points through [insert method here]. Once acquired, one of these points can be spent to bend the game’s rules. A missed attack can be re-rolled, a difficult task can be simplified, or a player who has exhausted a special ability can sneak in an additional use. Pathfinder’s “Advanced Player’s Guide” offers such a system as an optional rule, with points being gained any number of ways. From leveling up, to completing a plot arc, to performing a heroic act.

My biggest problem with hero point systems is that they are, by definition, a meta-game mechanic. The core of role playing games is establishing characters which act within an internally consistent world. It seems odd, then, that we would intentionally break the wall between the game world and the real world by introducing a mechanic which muddles the internal consistency of a world. After all, only player characters get hero points in most systems. Ergo, once hero points are an option, the PCs are no longer simple characters within the game world. They are, rather, avatars of otherworldly beings (the players) which grants them special abilities. Pathfinder is particularly bad in this area, and goes so far as to provide feats, spells, and magic items which interact with hero points. So not only do you gain access to a completely unique ability merely on the basis of being a player character, you can even build your character around this uniqueness which separates you from rest of the world.

Another reason which I don’t like hero points is the way in which they mitigate danger. By allowing players to re-roll when the result is poor, we give them a much higher probability of avoiding pivotal failures. While this may not sound like the worst thing ever, it creates three undesirable situations. First and foremost in my mind is that avoiding pivotal failures often means avoiding interesting failures. In a standard game, the cleric fails his jump over the pit of spikes. He falls 40 feet, takes his damage, but survives. However, his legs have been impaled by the spikes, and the other players must find a way to rescue him from bleeding to death at the bottom of a pit. Or, the wizard uses an action point and the game continues on without incident. Which story will the players be talking about after the adventure is over?

Second, avoiding pivotal failures makes the whole world around the character much less dangerous. Part of the thrill of stealing from a dragon’s horde is knowing that the dragon could wake up at any moment. If you know you’ve got a hero point in the wings ready to save you from a bad stealth roll, then the adventure’s edge is dulled. And that leads right into problem three: compensation. Any time players become more powerful, the GM gives them greater challenges. I’ve used that argument to defend giving PCs more power on numerous occasions, but with hero points I think the argument works in reverse. Giving a character a powerful magic weapon is fun for that character, and enhances gameplay. It’s worth beefing up the adventure for that. But given all of the ways in which hero points detract from gameplay, why give them to players when the end result is just a game which requires player’s to use Hero Points to survive?

Bearing all of that in mind, there is at least one thing about hero points which I find appealing. Hero points have the potential to be used as a kind of “Last ditch, adrenalin pumping, now-or-never” means by which players can attempt to pull a win out of an almost certainly deadly situation. I had such a situation in a game not too long ago. My players weren’t quite up to defeating the Corpse Sewn Hekatonkheires which ambushed them. The sorcerer was dead at -15 hp, and the Dawnblade (homebrew fighter/cleric class) was desperately attempting to hold the beast at bay while looking for a means to escape. After some arbitration between us, I allowed him to use his healing wand & make a standard attack (albeit at a -8 penalty)on the same turn, which would normally not be allowed. The attempt failed, and the Dawnblade was felled by the beast, but I decided then that I wanted my players to have some kind of option to better facilitate that kind of cornered-animal effort.

Hero points were the obvious choice, but I’ve always been turned off by them for aforementioned reasons. It wasn’t until last night when I was looking at the Star Wars Roleplaying Game rulebook that I struck upon an idea. West End Games’ Star Wars is one of the few games I’ve encountered where hero points are a central mechanic. It’s also the only system I’ve ever encountered where hero points actually make complete sense, and avoid being a meta game mechanic. But that’s a different post.

In the Star Wars RPG, ‘character points’ are primarily used as action points. Characters acquire a handful of them at the end of an adventure based on how awesome they were. A character might only receive 1 if all they did was make it through the adventure, but could receive 5 if they made it through the adventure by wrestling a shark into submission then throwing the shark at a stormtrooper. Aside from simply being used to add an extra die to a roll, though, character points can be used for character improvement. Since the game has no classes or levels, improving the skills by spending large amounts of character points is the only way for a character to permanently become more formidable. Essentially, Star Wars’ version of hero points also functions as that system’s experience points.

So what if I just switched it around?

Since I use the Pathfinder Simple XP System (and loving it, by the way), I’m already dealing with small, manageable numbers. All I need do is allow players to spend 1 experience point to gain the benefits of spending an action point. Here’s what that rule might look like:

Pathfinder House Rule: Using Simple XP as Hero Points

By pushing themselves the the limit, characters can sometimes perform feats beyond the normal scope of their abilities. At will, as a free action, a character may sacrifice 1 experience point (so long as this does not reduce the character’s level) to perform any one of the following actions:

Act Out of Turn: An experience point can be spent to take your turn immediately, permanently moving your place in the initiative order to whenever this action was taken.

Bonus: Prior to making any roll, an experience point can be spent to grant a +8 bonus to that roll. This ability cannot be used at all after the roll is made. Multiple experience points can be spent, and their effects stack.

Extra Action: During your turn, an experience point may be spent to grant you an additional standard action. This can only be done once per turn.

Recall: An experience point may be spent to use an ability which you have access to, but which has already been used up for the day, or was not prepared. This includes casting spells after the daily spell allotment is cast, using special abilities after their daily limits are used up, or casting a spell from a spellbook which was not memorized for that day. Bear in mind that if a wizard wishes to cast a spell he or she has not memorized, and they are out of spell slots for the appropriate level, two experience points must be spent.

Special: You can petition your GM to allow you to spend an experience point to perform a number of abilities. GMs should use the options presented here as a guide for how to balance this ability. Also, bear in mind, that an experience point can never be spent to re-roll a die.

On paper, this system looks like it fixes a lot of problems. It’s still something of a meta-game mechanic, as the connection between performing a spectacular action and losing experience is tenuous. But NPCs can also use the system, which removes the problem of the player characters being a class apart from the rest of the world. In theory, it also obliterates the danger problem. Hero points exist for the sole purpose of being used to perform great deeds, so that’s what players will use them for. XP, though, is far more precious. Players will not spend it lightly, because doing so will prevent them from leveling. Any player which did overuse this system would quickly be left in the dust as the rest of the party leveled higher and higher whilst the problem character remained low level.

Perhaps my favorite thing about this variation on hero points is the simplicity. By integrating it with the XP system, players won’t need to find a place for yet another number on their already cluttered character sheets. The GM won’t need to keep track of when to award hero points, because he or she is already keeping track of when to award XP. Aside from the “no re-rolls” stipulation, there’s not even any additional rules to memorize. The players regulate the system themselves, because they don’t want to lose experience.

I’ll be implementing this in my games for now. I hope it’s as effective as it looks!

Pathfinder House Rule: Simple Experience Points

As a Game Master, I have always hated experience points. It is one of the most frustrating and poorly designed aspects of many role playing games. Including my beloved Pathfinder.

I understand function of EXP, and why it’s valuable. Players enjoy being rewarded for their work, and (along with treasure) experience points are the most direct and tangible form of reward in an RPG. Watching the number of accrued XP grow larger and larger, bringing a character ever closer to the threshold of the next level, is not only encouraging, but it gives players a sense of control over their own progression

For the GM, though, it’s nothing but a pain in the ass. Every encounter in the game needs to have an encounter level applied to it. Each encounter level is modified by the variables in combat. If the giant slime had a challenge rating of 6, and each of the two dozen skeletons had a challenge rating of 1/2, what was the encounter level of the combat? Should the characters gain more experience because the floor was covered in pit traps? Should they gain less because they have that powerful magic item which kept the giant slime pinned down for most of the combat? Should the total amount of experience gained change if the players find it unexpectedly more or less difficult than the GM expected they would?

I don’t shy away from using a complicated system if I can be convinced it needs to be complicated. But experience gain never struck me as having that kind of need. Almost every game I’ve run as a GM has used a kind of ad hoc experience distribution system. I look up how many experience points are needed for the characters to reach the next level, and I give them whatever percentage of that number which I feel like they’ve earned. Most of the time I base that percentage on what speed of progression is optimal to keep the players in-step with events in my game world, rather than basing it off of challenges they have overcome.

At best, the method I’ve been using make experience points redundant. At worst, my method reduces player agency. It’s an arrangement I’ve never been happy with, but not one I never thought of a good solution to. Maybe I was just being dense about it, though, because the solution seems damned obvious now.

Last week during my morning blog reading. I found this post over at Blog of Holding. According to Paul, Dungeons and Dragons 4th edition is normalized so that each level requires roughly 10 encounters to reach. So, instead of bothering to calculate large XP numbers, Paul simply gives his players 1 experience point for every encounter, and once they reach 10xp they get to level.

I immediately fell in love with the simplicity and elegance of the system. But, not wanting to rush into things headlong, I ran the numbers for Pathfinder’s own leveling graph. My formula was simple:

[(Amount of XP required to reach next level) – (Amount of XP required to reach previous level] * (XP awarded to a character in a party of 1-3 when overcoming an encounter with a CR equal to the Average Party Level.)

This should produce the rough number of combats required to reach each level. While it is possible to raise or lower this number by having more members in the party, or dealing with encounters with a CR above or below the APL, this should provide a reliable average.

Since Pathfinder provides groups with slow, normal, or fast leveling progressions, I punched in the numbers sixty times, and lo and behold, the numbers are consistent.

Slow progression levels every 22 encounters, normal progression levels every 15 encounters, and fast progression levels every 10 encounters. I have to admit, as the results started to become apparent, I started to get angry. It seems ridiculous to me that leveling is actually based on such an exceptionally simple system, which is hidden behind needless layers of complexity. I can understand that large XP numbers are perhaps more fun to talk about, but couldn’t they have let GMs in on this? Knowing would have saved me a lot of work.

Having now shown that leveling is simply a function of the number of encounters players have overcome, I will now be using a modified version of Paul’s Simple XP House Rule in all of my future Pathfinder games:

At slow progression, each level requires 44 experience points.
At normal progression, each level requires 30 experience points.
At fast progression, each level requires 20 experience points.
Characters receive 1 experience point for: overcoming an easy battle; escaping from a difficult battle or boss battle; overcoming a non-combat challenge such as a trap, or diplomatic negotiation; other misc tasks the GM would like to offer rewards for.
Characters receive 2 experience points for: overcoming an appropriately leveled combat encounter.
Characters receive 3 experience points for: overcoming a very difficult encounter or boss battle, or completing a major task such as saving a kingdom.

The major difference between my system and Paul’s is that while his system converts the number of encounters into the total amount of required XP, I doubled the number of encounters to get the amount of required XP. This allows for more more nuanced experience rewards. The baseline for most of the experience most characters will receive is 2, which means that the average number of encounters will remain unchanged. Characters who only fight monsters appropriate for their level will still reach a new level every 22, 15, or 10 fights.

However, with my variation on the system, a GM is better able to reward players for more minor actions. Something like successfully disabling a complicated trap, using stealth to avoid a ferocious band of orcs, or convincing a band of marauders that it’s not in their best interests to raid the village which is under the PC’s protection. I’ve never liked RPGs which punished players for skillfully avoiding combat. As a guy who likes to play rogues who rely heavily on stealth, I’ve experienced this in essentially every class based video game I’ve ever played. It’s just poor design.

Let me know what you think. I haven’t actually play tested this system yet, so I’m sure I’ll have cause to update it eventually.

Pathfinder House Rule: Ability Penalty Flaws

Just as I knew I would, I forgot an entry into my current list of house rules. Truthfully, I probably missed even more, but this is the only one I came across whilst perusing a recently filled notebook. It comes from the superb Blog of Holding, which I love, and read every day despite their focus on a system I don’t play. The outline of the system is detailed on a post from July 20th. You’ll notice, however, that my version detailed below is significantly different. Brilliant as Paul’s idea is, the flaws listed seem at best goofy, and at worst unbalanced.

In most systems, flaws are used as a kind of reverse-feat. The player agrees to allow his or her character to suffer from some frailty, and in exchange, they earn a benefit of some kind. On the surface it seems like an awesome idea, and I recall being very excited about it when I first read about them. As I’ve gained experience, however, I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s impossible (or at least very difficult) to implement such a system without inadvertently creating unbalanced characters.

This begs the question: why should flaws come with buffs to characters at all? You and I have flaws, and those don’t come with benefits. I’m overweight and dropped out of college due to financial problems. That doesn’t mean I got to pick “hilariously funny,” “devilishly charming,” and “god damned brilliant” to make up for being fat, uneducated, and poor. I have those positive traits despite my failings.

Using the rule below, flaws have no upside. And, since only the most hardcore role player would take such a flaw, flaws are also mandatory under certain circumstances. Please note that none of these flaws are overly harmful to a character. These flaws merely enhance a per-existing lack of ability in small, flavorful ways.

Without further ado:

Pathfinder Flaws System

If a character has a score of 9 or lower for any of their 6 base ability scores, they must select a flaw from the list below related to that ability score. For each ability modifier lower than -1, the character must have an additional flaw related to that ability score. For example, a character with a Charisma modifier of -1 must take one Charisma flaw, a character with a Charisma modifier of -2 must take two Charisma flaws, et cetera.

If any of the ability scores with associated flaws are ever permanently increased, then flaws may be removed at the same rate as modifier penalties are removed. If the ability score modifier reaches 0, all flaws associated with that ability score are removed.

Strength

Puny: You are treated as though you are one size category smaller than your racial norm with regards to weapon proficiencies.

Weak Grip: Any time you miss with a melee attack your opponent may make attempt a disarm combat maneuver as a free action.

Bad Swimmer: You cannot succeed on any swim check with a DC higher than 10.

Bad Climber: You cannot succeed on any climb check with a DC higher than 10.

Insufficient Block: If you use a shield, you only gain half of its AC bonus. If your game utilizes the “Shields Will Be Sundered” rule, you may not take advantage of it.

Dexterity

Slow Starter: You cannot win an initiative roll. If your roll is ever highest, you move to second place in the initiative order.

Butterfingers: Upon rolling a natural one in combat, you drop your weapon.

Two Left Feet: When moving over difficult terrain, or trying to move over an obstacle, the character must make a Reflex save (DC: 13) or fall prone.

Pushover: Upon being struck by a critical hit, you fall prone.

Awkward Fall: Add +1 to the falling damage for every 10 feet you fall.

Constitution

Medicine Dependent: You require a daily dose of medication to avoid the fatigued condition. After two days you gain the exhausted condition.

Slow: You can run at a maximum of twice your normal move speed, rather than four times your normal move speed.

Cheap Drunk: Even a slight amount of alcohol, as much as half a cup of weak brew, leaves you impaired. You take a -4 to all Dexterity checks & Wisdom checks until you’ve rested for 8 hours.

Weak Frame: If you wear any armor in excess of 40lb, you are treated as encumbered.

Intelligence

Illiterate: You cannot read or write.

Ignorant: You cannot succeed on any Knowledge check with a DC higher than 10.

Inexpressive: You take a -2 on any check which requires you to express yourself to another. This includes Diplomacy checks, Bluff checks, Perform checks, or any abilities or spells which require a subject to understand the character.

Bad Eye for Value: You always pay 10% more than market value when buying items from merchants. You always sell for 10% less than market value.

Wisdom

Tempted: Select a temptation from the list below. Whenever presented with your temptation, you must make a will save (DC: 10 + Your Character Level) or indulge in that temptation. This flaw can be selected more than once, its effects do not stack. Each time it is taken, select a different temptation. List of temptations: Alcohol, Food, Sex, Drugs

Overly Honorable: You cannot make bluff checks.

City Slicker: You cannot succeed on any survival check with a DC higher than 10.

Day Dreamer: You cannot succeed on any reactive perception check with a DC higher than 10.

Spendthrift: For every day your character spends in a town or city, he or she loses 1d10/level gold on purchases of food, drink, and baubles.

Gullible: You cannot succeed on any sense motive check with a DC higher than 10.

Charisma

Rude: You’re unable to bite your tongue. You cannot succeed on any diplomacy check with a DC higher than 10.

Meek: You’re unable to assert yourself. You cannot succeed on any intimidate check with a DC higher than 10.

Magically Inept: Any successful Use Magic Device check has a 25% chance to misfire, causing the target to be determined randomly. If the target is self, the spell merely fizzles.

Bad With Animals: Animals which encounter you are unusually aggressive towards you. Those which would normally be friendly are unfriendly. Those which would normally be unfriendly may attack you.

One of the best things about this house rule is that it is nearly endlessly extendable. The flaws are both simple, and entertaining to come up with. As much as I like it, however, it really isn’t for everyone. Players will almost always be resistant to something which reduces their effectiveness. As always, the best policy is to work out what works best for your group, as a group.

Pathfinder House Rules

For a long while, I have wanted to document all the House Rules which I like enough to make use of in my games. I’ve always been somewhat bad at codifying House Rules. Many of them come and go, their effect on the game only occurring when I remember to implement them, or when they seem appropriate. In some cases, I haven’t even figured out a good way to get the rule down on paper, simply allowing certain actions sometimes, and disallowing them at other times, all by GM fiat. All of the players spread throughout the games I GM are very understanding, laid back folk, so it hasn’t become an issue. However, I know only too well that my failure to solidify what is and what is not in the rules has a potential to come back to bite me in the future.

And so this page has been born. Below are all the House Rules which I include in my games. If, in the future, I add or remove any rules, I will make a new post describing the rule (or why I felt it no longer had a place in my game) and I will update this post to reflect the new ‘House List.’

Let me say right off that I do not have sources for most of these rules. Many of them were penned by far more inventive GMs than myself. However, due to acquiring them from my brother fa/tg/uys or from some other un-citable source, most will not have sources. If anybody would like to make a correction, please leave a comment, and I’ll make sure credit is given where it is due.

Natural 20 Crits: Any roll of a natural 20 on an attack roll is an automatic critical hit. Any other rolls within critical range must still be confirmed normally.

Skill Check Critical Success/Failure: When rolling skill checks, a natural 20 is treated as a roll of 25 (20 + 5), while a natural 1 is treated as a roll of -4 (1 – 5). Add skill ranks and other modifiers normally.

Shields Shall Be Splintered: Anytime a character who wields a shield takes physical damage, they can opt to sacrifice their shield to avoid taking that damage. Masterwork or Magical shields can block a number of blows per day equal to the shield’s equivalent numerical bonus (+1 to +10) without sundering. If the shield is used to avoid damage a number of times in excess of it’s equivalent numerical bonus, it is destroyed. Magical shields can also be used to automatically save against damaging spells. Treat this as two blows against the shield. Magical shields regenerate this damage whenever the character rests for 8 hours. Shields otherwise act normally.

Shields Shall Be Splintered was originally put forth by Trollsmyth.

Diluting Bad HP Rolls: At each level, players roll their character’s total HD, and add their Constitution modifier * their character level to it. If the resulting number is higher than the character’s current max HP, then it becomes that character’s new max HP. If it is lower, then the character retains their current max HP. Here are two examples:

Valeros the Fighter is level 5. He has a constitution modifier of +3, and a max HP of 40. After killing some Skeletons, Valeros has gained enough XP to reach level 6. Normally, he would roll 1D10 + 3, and add that number to his HP. Using this House Rule, though, he instead rolls [6d10 + (3 * 6)]. He rolls exceptionally well, getting a result of 70! Valeros Max HP is now 70, up from 40 in one level.

Valeros continues to adventure, and eventually gains enough XP to reach level 7. He rolls [7d10 + (3 * 7)] for his new max HP. Unfortunately, his rolls are not so good this time, and he only gets a total of 64. Since this is lower than his previous roll of 70, his max HP does not change.

This list will change a great deal over time, I imagine. Particularly as I am sure I’m forgetting one or two that I normally employ in my games.