S is for Spell Selection

This is my 6th post in my Building a Better Villain thread that runs throughout April A to Z

Just a warning to non-gamers, this post is a bit crunchy (heavy on gamespeak and rules.)


Spell-casting in D&D is an odd beast. Up until 4th edition, the game used a system commonly known as Vancian magic* With 4th edition, the game scrambled it’s spellcasting, shifting to a more Magic the Gathering-style system of powers with set recharge rates, combined with ritual
(for magic-users, these were still called “spells”, but were no longer unique from the new powers given to fighters or other non-magic classes).

For this post, I would like to focus on managing spells in the older Vancian system. Vancian magic basically treats spells like ammo. You have a specific number of spells you can cast each day, and for wizards and clerics, they must be prepared in advance at the beginning of that day. This means that if you want to be able to cast 3 fireball spells, you need to memorize the spell 3 times. A friend of mine described it as fixing the magical patterns in the wizard’s brain. When the spell is cast, the pattern burns itself out in the process.

Most players try to select spells to cover a broad range of potential situations. Since they don’t  know what the GM has in store, this is a wise way to go about it. For a GM, however, taking this same approach might not be the best choice. Players spend a lot of time with their characters, they get to know the spells they have at hand, and become familiar with their mechanics. The GM, by contrast, may roleplay several NPC spellcasters during the course of a single game session, and several more the next game. Becoming familiar with diverse spell sets for each of these NPCs quickly becomes cumbersome for any busy GM who hasn’t had 20 years to memorize the Player’s Handbook by rote.

As such, I recommend taking a different approach with NPC spellcasters. Don’t try to optimize them to meet any possible challenge. Optimize them instead to a.) present a particular challenge or asset to the PCs (depending on their role as support or adversary) and b.) give the magic user a distinct style (e.g. pyromancer, summoner or mentalist), characterized by fewer spells with more of the same spell prepared. This gives you fewer spell descriptions to memorize and adds a distinct feel to the NPC. I would try to give them a couple protective spells, a couple attack spells and a few interesting effect spells they can throw into an encounter. In general, a caster will use more attack spells during combat than defensive spells, as the latter typically get spent while buffing up in the early rounds. Therefore, it is important to have at least 1 low-level attack that can be cast a bunch of times, while fewer self-defense spells might suffice.

Here’s an example:
A 10th level wizard will likely be able to cast at least 23 spells each day. Rather than giving them 23 different spells, do something like this:

10th level necromancer
0 level (4 spells) Detect magic x2, Touch of fatigue x21 level (5 spells) Ray of Enfeeblement x3 (low level debuff) Shield x2 (defense)2 level (5 spells) Melf’s Acid Arrow x5 (low level attack)3 level (4 spells) Vampiric Touch x4 (stronger debuff/healing)4 level (3 spells) Animate Dead x3 (summoning)5 level (2 spells) Cloudkill x2 (powerful area of effect)

With the above example, you only need to be familiar with 8 spells instead of 23. It still has a mix of direct damage attacks, area attacks, defense and other interesting effect spells, but should be much less cumbersome to run. The above necromancer also focuses on spells that either drain an enemy’s life force, or summon undead to assist the character. You could also throw in a couple extra spells that have simple mechanics or that you are already familiar with if certain types of spells are missing (e.g. mage armor to further beef up defense)

*named for its similarity with the system found in Jack Vance’s Dying Earth series.

D is for Diplomancy

Victoria Maderna Illustrates the problem quite nicely.

Any game that reaches a certain level of complexity winds up with some rules that work really well, and likely a few that don’t quite square up. For 3rd and 3.5 edition D&D, the rules surrounding social interaction skills (Diplomacy, Bluff and Intimidate) fall squarely into the category of game mechanics that need a good fixin’.

The first place where these rules chafe is at the point where rolling dice rubs up against roleplaying. Skill checks are simply dice rolls made to determine the outcome of some task. While such checks make good sense for things like scaling a sheer cliff, escaping from restraints or crafting a magic horn of tootie-fruity--actions that would be ridiculous, dangerous and/or impossible to replicate in the comfort of one’s living room--they might not be so necessary to replicate things like, bartering with a shopkeeper, or interrogating a prisoner. These are in-game activities that can be reasonably approximated with talking and a bit of imagination. No furniture broken.

However, not every player excels at thinking on his or her feet, and if you’ve ever met my fiancee, you’d know that any attempt she made to actually intimidate someone would likely be met by giggles and/or hugs. Having the option to roll dice makes an excellent choice for players who are playing outside their normal personality, or who are friggin’ tired from a day of work.

The second place where the social skill rules tend to chafe is in the way their bonuses are calculated. In 3rd edition D&D, every skill is tied to a particular character statistic. All the social skills happen to be tied to Charisma (i.e. how attractive? persuasive? leadership quality-ish? a character is.) Unfortunately, by this metric, a hulking 7-foot tall half orc (with a -2 racial penalty to charisma) is statistically likely to be less intimidating than a 3-foot tall halfling (no cha penalty). How does that work!? 


The rules also fail to account for cultural differences that might arise, like barbarian mistrust of candy-ass bards and their pretty-talk. Thus, it is up to the GM to house-rule and/or shoehorn exceptions to these rules. While this might work for many groups, it might also lead to GM v. Rules-Lawyer in a court of nerd. In my particular house, I will allow players to use an alternate stat modifier on social checks if they tell me how they plan to use it. “I’ll get him to talk by throwing my dagger into his chair two inches below the family jewels” = intimidate + dexterity check.

There is also the issue of how the rules actually play out. The game uses a roll of the dice against a fixed number found on this table to determine how far another character’s attitude is shifted by a check. It is quite possible for a player to acquire enough ranks in their social skills to diffuse even the most rabid animosity and to turn every shop-keep into the player’s new best friend. Furthermore, anyone with even a single point bonus to any of these skills will almost never provoke a negative reaction from someone they try to woo. This fixed target mechanic often leads bards and other social-powerhouse characters to be disparagingly called “diplomancers”. Again, house rules and shoehorns can be employed to fix the issue. Say my character misses with his dagger... the interrogated’s attitude could change in several different negative ways depending on where the knife ended up.

Finally, there is a problem of degree. Some players have the distinct impression that a higher roll automatically equals a better result. While this is true in some cases, in others, the results max out after a certain point. You rolled a 34 while chatting up the previously indifferent barman? Great! He likes you a lot. You are his new best friend. Does that mean he is going to give free drinks to you and everyone else you bring to his bar for life? Not. Bloody. Likely. GMs need to establish, and may need to explain the limits to which a character will go for their new diplomantic BFF.

Meatloaf is so diplomantic, but even he has his limits.

I have not yet found a solid solution to the diplomancy issue. My games typically involve a mix of roleplay used to favorably influence the later dice checks. This works fairly well for the most part, but the problem of overpowered diplomancers still rears its pretty head from time to time.

Say Five "Hail Marys" and Two "Hello Dollies"

"Face it, the cleric is usually the guy who shows up last to the gaming table, a big, stupid smile on his face, saying 'Hey, guys, I want to play. What's the party need?' To which, everyone replies, 'We need healing. You're the priest. Shut up and sit down.'"

-Foreward to The Cleric Quintet by R.A. Salvatore

In D&D, the cleric is arguably one of the most important character classes to include within a group of would-be adventurers, while also presenting a number of problems for a DM. Possessed with the ability to channel divine energy into healing and curative spells (as well as other fun stuff like fire and brimstone), a cleric is a must-have for any group planning to go off in search of bitey, stabby and/or other types of killy things. They are often seen as heal-bots by players... so, what about by NPCs?

Making the rules for cleric powers mesh with a dangerous and exciting fantasy world becomes problematic when applied to the world as a whole. The rules for cleric PCs assume that the character has a direct conduit to his or her god with the ability to use that divine influence to answer prayers in the form of spells. As long as the cleric isn't doing something heretical or otherwise naughty, these prayers are expected to be answered, no questions asked.

PCs also seem to expect clerics to be readily available in local cities, towns and villages to disperse healing potions and handle any maladies they are not equipped to resolve themselves. (i.e. they expect town heal-bots to be higher level than they are.)

The structure of these rules makes a lot of sense from a gameplay standpoint. Adventuring groups need a way to recharge and stay alive during dangerous delves and overland excursions. Making the gods' wills more capricious or the nature of their existence more nebulous would likey prove frustrating (maybe they only answer 1 in 10 prayers) resulting in frustrated players and a loss of fun.

From a worldbuilding standpoint, however, such rules raise the question, "What do these clerics do when they aren't healing heroes. Do they use their healing powers on the regular townsfolk?"

How would such access to divine intervention affect the mortality rate of a medieval fantasy world? Looking at the numbers, a good-hearted 5th level cleric (probably a pretty standard church leader for a small town or village) would be able to heal wounds and/or bring at least 11 people back from the brink of death from physical injury EVERY DAY, plus a couple extra depending on their wisdom/in-touchness with their god. They could also cure the blind and deaf, the diseased and the cursed. While they could only do these things once or twice a day, the next blind person could just come back tomorrow.

When one assumes that such a cleric would likely have a couple assistants, the accidental mortality rate in our hypothetical town would likely drop to almost 0!

Now, take the high religious adviser to a royal court. Such a high-ranking figure would no doubt have access   to Raise Dead, Resurrection, or even True Resurrection spells. While the material costs of such spells (diamond dust between 5,000 and 25,000g) would be too much for your average sod farmer, a regent, whose castle cost upwards of 100,000g would surely have the cash on hand to ensure his/her reanimation in the event of an untimely demise. Assassination suddenly seems far less effective.

Suddenly, it appears more difficult to create a world with a tone like this:

There's some wonderful filth down 'ere!

and more inevitable that it will end up like this:

A little of Moradin's wake-up juice and she'll be right as rain!

So, what are the options for a DM wishing to mitigate an otherwise sunshine and roses world free of death by anything other than old age or complete disintigration?

Make clerical powers a rare gift: Perhaps most healing in the world is done with alchemy and herbalism. Those with clerical powers are few and far between, making even the lowest-level cleric a truly remarkable individual. This could certainly boost the grit and mortality of your world, but might irk your players if they expect to be able to restock on potions, divine scrolls or get other healing any time they go to town. It would also make clerics a rarity among encountered enemies.

Wear out your welcome: Perhaps even the most healing-oriented gods get irked by repeated requests for healing. After all, they are supposed to be the power behind reality, not just the spigot of life-juice (euphemism!) for the injury-prone masses. If this is the case, would they start ignoring magic-based hostpitals or would they first turn on those who reached their lifetime cap on orc-inflicted axe wounds?

Demanding Deities: Perhaps certain deities have restrictions about the circumstances under which they will heal an individual. Some might only heal their own followers, or might only tend certain types of wounds. A god of war might care less about billy, the kid who got kicked by a mule, and a god of nature might be completely averse to resurrection in any form. Again, it is possible your players could balk at such restrictions.

When you got it, flaunt it!: Let the divine conduit flow strong! Use it as much as your players do. Have town constabularies use "Speak with Dead" to get the descriptions of killers and accounts of murder. Have a feud between kings slowly trying to bankrupt each others kingdoms with repeated "successful" assassination attempts. Create a population problem that forces a good-aligned church into a moral dilemma between letting the mortally injured pass naturally and dealing with an increasingly unsustainable food crisis.

I haven't yet worked out the kinks of this problem, even in my own campaign. If any of you have unique ways that you have used to balance gameplay dynamics with a more mysterious divinity, I would love to hear them. If not, perhaps the ideas I have presented will help shake stuff loose.

Nerdpocalypse Now

Here I had planned to post some nice fluffy little thing today, but noooo! Wizards of the Coast just had to go and make "an announcement". In a single, pre-emptive strike, the company brought about the only inevitable conclusion to the edition wars that have been raging between fans of 3rd and 4th edition D&D (with the occasional "back in my day, you were lucky to see second level!" input of OD&D grognards.) Of course, that inevitable conclusion is the mutually assured destruction that is 5th EDITION!

Now, to qualify the above histrionics, I am not making a preemptive judgment on the quality of the edition to be. I am, rather, making a prediction... a prophecy even... that no matter how well thought out and put together the new game ends up being, there are going to be a lot of upset gamers on both sides of the 3e/4e conflict. For there is no font for self-righteous indignation like a gamer with access to the internet. 

Lemme elaborate. WOTC included an announcement within their announcement that is as admirable as it is futile--they are soliciting the feedback of D&D players to help ensure that their next generation game best meets their needs. They clearly view 5th edition like the 5th element. It's love! Don't you get it!? By listening to everyone, they will stop the evil asteroid ball from killing Bruce Willis! er... I mean, move beyond the edition wars. But, there's the rub... because of the diverse and sometimes contradictory preferences of tabletop RPGers, making a product that will satisfy everyone is almost certainly an impossibility.

As someone who solicits input from outside stakeholders writing for public consumption, I deal with this on a regular basis (and I'm sure the folks working on the next D&D do too.) People love it when you solicit their input in good faith. However, often that input is delivered as "you need to include x" rather than, "hey, I would love to see x in your thing." As such, after the project is completed, you wind up fielding and/or fending off accusations of deliberately neglecting or misrepresenting certain vitally important minutiae. It can be bad enough when creating a new product, but is much worse when adapting an existing product, which carries existing expectations. For evidence of that, I give you exhibit Facebook and Minecraft patch day.

Anyway, 5e was bound to show up at some point, and it sounds like the folks at Wizards are really considering the needs of their fans even if I am dubious that those fans will recognize this in the end. So, here are a couple things that I would like to see included in 5e if they fit.

• Return to spells rather than rituals. It's semantics! Don't change the name just to avoid your Tolkienian roots.
• Same goes for the core races. Dragonborn and Warforged are cool and all, but your not making Final Fantasy.
• Recognize that tabletop RPGs are not videogames and do not need to have a videogame feel. 
• Skill challenges have some merit, though they should not be structured as an excuse for not roleplaying. Otherwise, I liked them.
• Revise the social interaction skills to nerf diplomancers. Also, skills like intimidate shouldn't be based solely on Charisma. By that metric, halflings tend to be more intimidating than orcs.
• Keep moving towards simplified stat blocks. The 4e blocks were way easier to read than 3e
• Differentiate between wizards and sorcerers again. The learned academic v. unpredictable wildling was a font of inspiration.

My foray into 4E

Dungeons and Dragons has been around since 1974 and in over 35 years of history has been through a lot of changes. In the common nerdvacular (like vernacular but all mixed up) the major benchmarks in D&D's evolution are referred to as "editions" or "e" for the super-hip and lazy. I first dabbled in D&D during high school when 2E was all the rage. -I will now type THAC0 a whole bunch per the understood rules for discussing anything involving 2nd Edition D&D. While on my way to meet my friend, THAC0 for a lovely lunch of THAC0 with THAC0 before seeing the fine film, THAC0 presents THAC0 in THAC0, the THAC0 Story, I stopped off to pick up a six-pack of THAC0.- but I digress.

When I got back into tabletop RPGs during the mid-Oughts, 3.5 was all the rage, but was soon replaced by 4th Edition. -cue wardrums- Well, the transition to 4E set off a nerdwar of unbridled proportions. Storytellers insist that edition transitions always result in horrendous, Cheeto-fueled strife, but this was the first of such conflicts to which I bore witness firsthand.

Those who really love their 3rd Edition and its half sibling 3.5 railed against the new 4th Edition for killing roleplay by being too combat focused, for being little more than a video game on paper but waayyy slower, and for being a corporate-driven decision by a business wanting to make money. (GASP!)

Those who dove whole-hog into 4th Edition praise it as being streamlined, more balanced, more tactical, easier to run as a GM and easier to pick up as a new player. They also rail against 3.5 for being too complicated, unbalanced and old.

To which both sides added that those who subscribe to the other system are both cads and, in fact, bounders.

Anyway, since I re-entered the gaming world with 3.5E, I decided to stick with it when I started running my own game. I greatly enjoy the system, and now that I have found the book-buying loophole that is Half-Price Books, I have been able to build my library while paying used book prices, not out-of-print book prices for all my 3.5 Edition manuals. As such, I have had no desire to switch to 4th.

I love 3.5 and my players love 3.5. However, unlike many lurking in the anonymous mysts of the internet, I do not undergo a horrific lycanthropic transformation at the mention of 4E, which causes me to wake up naked in a field, covered in blood with a torn scrap of t-shirt reading "Move Minor Standard" clutched in my aching hand.

I subscribe to the old saw, "It takes all kinds" and in an effort to reach across the Edition aisle, I made my first foray into 4E gaming this past weekend. I enjoyed my time. I will play again in two weeks. However, my mental jury is still out on which system, if any, I find superior.

Here are my first impressions of 4E:

• It does feel more streamlined and focused on "hero stuff" gone are uncool skills like "profession basketweaver" or "craft pottery". While this probably works for 95% of players, sometimes you want to play someone who is a really good cook (I have a player in my game who is doing exactly that!)
• The method for composing stats gives your character higher numbers, but I have to assume this doesn't really affect the challenge of the game since any monster stats will be derived the same way, thus negating any advantage... but this one goes to 11.
• Bonuses derived from leveling up have switched to a static increase, rather than changes rolled with dice (hit points) or selected from a pool of points (skills).
• In an effort to balance the game, all character types have been given a selection of powers. I'm not sure how I feel about this yet. Yes, I think some of the powers my character can use sound really cool. But at the same time, many of them seem to boil down to "deal x amount of damage and move the target y number of squares." Gone are the vast majority of special abilities that could be useful both in and out of combat. I have to admit, it does feel a little video-gamey. An intriguing video game, but still.
• Likewise, the equipment list is simultaneously more open and more restrictive. More open in that my character uses a magic "implement" to drive his powers. What does this implement look like? Whatever I want it to! A staff, an orb, a rune-covered burrito, everything has the same effect... the same effect. This is both refreshing, in that the player can describe their character's weapon or implement however he/she wants, but also disheartening in that it doesn't affect how the game actually plays out. The trade-offs between weapon damage, potential for critical strikes and number of strikes, which were previously determined by selecting a weapon and shield, two handed weapon or two weapons, seem to have vanished entirely. Similarly, I was told that, as a druid character, I wore hide armor. No choice. That's just how it is. Oh, and apparently all magic necklaces do the same thing in 4E... but they can look like whatever you want!
  
  I think this will be one of those things that bugs me about the new system. One of my favorite aspects of 3.5 is playing with gear loadouts. Carefully crafting a character's kit to attain just the right balance of lethality, impregnability and agility -not always for the maximum advantage, but more to make a sword and shield swinging fighter feel different from one who swings a halberd from horseback. Its feels like the difference between custom-tuning a race car and picking a model and color from off the lot.

Of course, all of this comes with the caveat that I have only actually played for about 3 hours at this point. These are all first impressions. The jury is still out on how I feel about 4E or whether I think it is superior or inferior to 3.5. One thing I can say for certain... it is different.