Tag Archives: magic

The Runes Of Doom, Part IX

We Can Worship Like The Druids

Running Naked Through The Wuids

Drinking Strange Fermented Fluids

And Also Cover Hell Spirals And Technos And Whatever Else I Get To

(Which Turns Out To Be New Monsters)

Hey, I actually got comments on my two prior articles, and not of the “I am most expectorantly fumigated with clarity over your postblogs, with much reciprocity will I obviate the contrafibularities” variety. So I look forward to stunned silence in the future, because I can’t have nice things. Anyway, druids.

Druids entered D&D early. They began life as just a “monster” type in Greyhawk (the supplement, not the gazeteer):

The Dinosaurs Came Later

The Dinosaurs Came Later

BTW, I have both cats helping me write this. Wait, now they’re fighting over the faint traces of chicken grease left from breakfast. And Rocket, despite his negative size modifier to CMD vs. Toaster, emerges victorious. See, reading these articles is just like watching me on Twitch. A constant stream of useless extemporanea that fluffs my word count so that I… wait, I don’t get paid by the word for these… I don’t get paid at all! Back to druids.

By the time of Eldritch Wizardry, druids became a core PC class, whose power levels have fluctuated wildly over the years. Druids were the first official class to be strongly tied to a cultural archetype1. This intrigues me. They weren’t really a part of the common cultural gestalt (I love using fancy academic words I don’t really understand) of the game’s formative era. Could The Wicker Man have been an influence? Or maybe they were a part of the cultural morass surrounding the origin of D&D, just not a part that reached me, a young teen in the rural wastes of New Jersey. (And by “rural wastes”, I mean “densely populated middle class suburbs”.)

The actual Arduin incarnation of the druid was discussed earlier. Despite Dave’s proclamations to the contrary, the earliest Arduin books were clearly intended as supplements to Duother roleplaying gamesons, and so, druid spells were included from the start… and to the finish, at least of the original trilogy, which brings us to…

May The Blessings Of Dramamine Be Upon Ye

May The Blessings Of Dramamine Be Upon Ye

This is a good example of something I’ve discussed at tedious length before, and will now discuss again: Ability delivery mechanisms. What we’ve got here, boils and ghouls, is something that isn’t actually a spell… but there was no other mechanic to use to give this ability to some druids, but not all. There weren’t feats, skills, ‘talent picks’, or any other such things, so, spells would have to do.

Milnahr’s Minor Ritual For Detecting All That Which Lives: Outlines all living things with pale green “St. Elmo’s Fire”. (I am not sure if this includes invisible creatures; if so, it’s a cheap and effective way to nullify that ability.) If used on a single, targeted, creature, the druid rolls percentage dice to find out how “aware” they are of it (“what it eats, etc.”). The problems of figuring out what being 38% “aware” of a creature vs. 61% “aware” are left as an exercise for the reader.

Yalnwyn’s Spell Of The Mystik Moons (Lesser): Awesome name, right? What the spell does is summon three spheres (red, white, and blue, for some reason) which bump, trip, and otherwise “harass” the target. So..

Player: “I cast Yalnwyn’s Spell Of The Mystik Moons (Lesser) at the orc!”
DM: “OK. Your balls begin banging against the orc’s face. He tries to bite your balls.”
Player: “Hey!”
DM: “He swats them away, but they keep coming back. The orc just can’t escape your balls.”
Player: “Shut up!”
DM: “One of the other orcs tries to help, but can’t keep a good grip on your balls.”
Player: “This is because I didn’t help pay for the Chinese food last week, isn’t it?”

The spell description actually says “balls”, not “orbs”, “spheres”, or “immature and painfully obvious double entendre”. There’s no actual mechanics, the target is just “harassed”, leading to many discussions on exactly what are the combat effects of being harassed by a druid’s balls?

I’ll stop now.

Larissa’s Singing Sands Of Time Spell: Summons a whirling dust devil that makes a melodious whistling sounds, and ages the target 10 years (5 if they save). Sucks if you’re a human, but virtually all other races (per The Arduin Grimoire) have ridiculously long lifespans, and no, that’s not a euphemism.

Druach’s Spell Of The Infinite Insect: Causes the nearest insects (1, +1 for every three levels over that required for use) to grow in size to match the caster’s own hit dice. The newly enlarged (but not actually infinite) insect will fight for, carry, etc., the caster, except 5% of the time, when it is “wild” and will, I presume, attack instead. Probably worth the risks. Since both the number of giant insects and the hit dice of each scale with level, this is a damn useful spell, especially since the mana cost does not go up.

Ovore’s Spell Of The Mystik Moons (Greater): “Same as lesser but balls have the density of stone.” G’night everybody!

Never Bring A Wand To A Laser Fight

With spells done, we go on to “techno magik”. No actual rules, per se, just a half-page essay about why technology is totally cool in a fantasy universe… the ignorant peasants will consider a laser pistol to be a wand of fire, and blueprints to be mystic runes. There was, even in those early days, a constant culture clash over genre bounds and what was and wasn’t “realistic” or “believable”, and, just as it is now, and just as it shall ever be, everyone had a completely subjective, personal, and emotional opinion which they were convinced was objectively correct and the only one which any decent human being would espouse. If your female dwarves don’t have beards, you’re not playing D&D!

Here’s a techno fighting a valpyr.

The Sheer Awesome Perfection Of This Image Cannot Be Overstated

The Sheer Awesome Perfection Of This Image Cannot Be Overstated

Hell Spirals

Roger Zelazny Isn’t As Litigious As Tolkien, Right?

I Mean, Seriously, It's Not Like Anyone's Going To Make An Amber RPG Or Anything.

I Mean, Seriously, It’s Not Like Anyone’s Going To Make An Amber RPG Or Anything.

The higher level you are, the better the odds of you completing the spiral, albeit with a greater risk of encountering “a denizen of limbo or other such nasty thingy”. Failure may kill you, dump you in a random hell, or cause you to go insane. Being awarded a “You Tried Your Best!” ribbon is not an option. Sorry, millennials.

Blue Gunkies And Crunch Beetles, Part Of This Delicious Breakfast

(Not The Delicious Part)

Without further ado… monsters.

Argalanthi: 12 to 18 foot long armored bug people from outer space. Not to be confused with phraints, whom they admire, nor with thaelestra, whom they detest. They use flamethrowers, which they hold in the tentacles that surround their jaws.

Black Lion: “Looks: like a giant black lion.” OK, then.

Blue Wind: A “living fog of shadows” that kills you by smothering (1 round per point of Con to do it). It also does 4-24 points of cold damage while you’re inside it (with the new hit point rules, discussed earlier, this will surely kill you long before it it smothers you), and “10 turns after contact all victims become its host”. Even if you’re not dead yet, are feeling much better, and want to go for a walk? And what does “become its host” mean?

Blue Gunky:

Significantly More Deadly Than The Green Gloopy, But Not As Feared As The Red Glorky

Significantly More Deadly Than The Green Gloopy, But Not As Feared As The Red Glorky

Immune to “venom, fear, confusion, stoning, etc.” Et cetera? Uhm… there’s about a gazillion different types of damage in the D&D-esque games, “Et cetera” doesn’t cut it! Level “1 per 50 points”. So a 200 point gunky is considered a fourth level monster… that takes 200 points of damage to kill, attacks twice per turn for 18 points per attack (in addition to draining 12 hit points/round) and drains attributes.  Oh, and it gets stronger as it kills you. I suspect Dave brought this out when a player seriously annoyed him.

Boomers: Giant mottled red and black acid-spitting frogs that explode in a fireball that does twice their hit dice in damage when you kill them. “Things that explode when you kill them” are a major part of the ecology of any good D&D world.

Choke Weed: A plant that produces clouds of choking pollen that is particularly nasty for hobbitts (sic), but doesn’t bother orcs. Burning it “doubles its effectiveness”, leading me to think that orcs should grow fields of this around their strongholds, then ignite it when the nassssty hobbitsesss attack them.

Crunch Beetle:

"Verticle Crush" Would Be A Good Name For A Band

“Verticle Crush” Would Be A Good Name For A Band

I enjoy the weird specificity of the “20% chance T-bolts will richochet off its chiten”.

And that’s enough for this week, folks. Next time… more monsters, including seven types of dragons!

Samurai and ninja both showed up early on in Strategic Review and The Dragon, but didn’t become “real” until Oriental Adventures.

The Runes Of Doom, Part VIII

More New Magic Spells!

Or: “How To Recognize Kill Trees People From Quite A Long Way Away”

With A Digression To The Earliest Days Of The MMORPG

And The Mystery Of The Aphpodesiac

We’re back, with another round of new spells… some brilliant, some strange, some seriously WTF.

Savoy’s Silent Slayer: Creates a magic missile of “specific being” slaying, which will wait in ambush “forever!” (Exclamation point in original, and rightly so!)

Skorn’s Immaculate Sky Symbol: Another entry in the growing list of “Cool idea, but not at that level”. Creates a symbol, name, etc., which appears in the sky “with appropriate music”. Not, as far as I can tell, a magic symbol. Just… skywriting. Yeah, impressive, but at sixth level, magic-users are casting stone to flesh or disintegration… this is the kind of thing you could do with phantasmal force. About the only thing it’s got going for it is range… 100 miles per caster level. So if you want to intimidate people living a long way away, it’s good for that. (See below for more thoughts on this concept.)

Fazalla’s Friend From Beyond: Summons a “close friend” back from the dead to fight for you. It’s a little vague on details like “for how long” or “is the ‘friend’ wearing the magic items they had when they got killed, or only what you buried them with after looting their body like they were just another orc?” and the like. I think it might play out like this:

PC: OK, I’m calling up Brothgar The Bold to fight for me.
(1d6 rounds later, Brothgar appears.)
Brothgar: Forsooth, my friend! I have thought of thee often since I passed from this mortal coil! How fare thee? Are thy spouse and child well?
PC: Yeah, whatever. Hey, you see that dragon there? Go kill it.
Brothgar: Why, surely I will defend thee, but I must ask, is this the only reason thou hast disturbed my eternal peace?
PC: Look, the dragon’s immune to half my spells ’cause the DM is a douchenozzle. So just whack it with your sword.
Brothgar: We two were bonded as soulmates while I lived, yet now you treat me as a mere hireling? Fie upon thee! I side with thine enemy! (Brothgar attacks the PC)

Maryindi’s Spell Of Super Telekinesis or The Tractor-Presser Beam: Pro tip: Words like “greater”, “perfected”, “lordly”, or “supreme” feel properly Vancian when describing upgraded spells; words like “super”, not so much. Cone shaped TK that moves up to 300 lbs+30/level. A million uses around the home and office.

Savoy’s Spell Of The Silver Serpent: A+ for alliteration. Summons a flying silver cobra to fight for you, which is cool, until you notice it has 1 hit die for each level the caster is over the minimum needed to cast (+1 base hit die). If you’re casting seventh level spells, a silver cobra which starts with 1 HD is pretty much useless against anything you’re going to be fighting, flying or not.

Hadaag’s Horror, The Red Sending of Sorrow, Sarchimus’s Sending, etc.: All of these spells, and a few others, have two things in common: First, they have totally awesome names. That counts for a lot. Second, they’re all variations on “spell that summons something nasty to go kill someone who is far, far, away”… most have ranges on the order of 10 miles per caster level. It’s interesting there’s so many variants on this concept, doubly so when you consider such spells are, at most, a trivial part of modern games. They tend to be the kind of things that show up in “The Even More Compleat Spelle Compendiume Vol VI”. But there’s three on one page in The Runes of Doom, and more besides, especially if you count other long-distance spells such as Skorn’s Immaculate Sky Symbol. I can only theorize, but I think there was a lot of PVP action in Dave’s games, with players concocting ever-more devious spells to use against enemies (while out of retribution range, of course). Alternatively, Dave created these spells to use to take down uppity PCs by reminding them they could be attacked from afar.

Caowyn’s Spell Catcher:

Spell Shortstop Was Much Less Popular

Caowyn’s Spell Shortstop Was Much Less Popular

A long time ago, in an age when Windows 98 was cutting-edge, there was a game called Ultima Online. There still is, in fact. I haven’t played it since the late 1990s. I’m sure no part of it would be familiar to me. No, I’m not that senile. I know I’m writing about tabletop games. Here’s the thing: See that powerful 10th level spell up there that takes you three months to learn? Well, there was a similar spell in early UO — it would deflect the first attack that struck it back at the source of the attack. A nice surprise for a would-be assassin, right? Well, except that it took about 0.0001 seconds before someone figured out how to write a macro that would first cast some really trivial, low-level, spell, which took out the defense, followed nanoseconds later by a much more powerful attack. Caowyn’s Spell Catcher has the same problem, except, you don’t even need to use a damaging spell. Hit ’em with something like “Mend“, and then, while they’re contemplating what to do with it, follow up with Jhem’s Spell Of The Far Terminus, which teleports the victim to a totally random “time, universe, and world”.

Phanch’s Spell Of The Fell Gates Of Hell

This Would Be A Better World If All Spells Rhymed

This Would Be A Better World If All Spells Rhymed

’nuff said.

Cleric Spells

And If You Ever Find Out What An 'Aphpodesiac' Is, This Is A Great Spell

And If You Ever Find Out What An ‘Aphpodesiac’ Is, This Is A Great Spell

You’ll note that a common aspect of early game design — not just Arduin, or D&D and its derivatives, but many systems — is a kind of “arms race”. For every measure, there is a counter-measure; for every counter-measure, there is a counter-counter-measure, and so on. Nowadays, perhaps as part of the synergy between tabletop games, card games, and MMORPGs, designers are more likely to simply “nerf” a particular ability if it becomes too dominant in play. This was less doable in the pre-Internet days, especially when it could be years between supplements. (The original AD&D hardcovers took three years to come out. Think about that for a moment. These days, we get a new edition every three years, or so it sometimes seems.)

As I Was Saying...

As I Was Saying…

Pheldoe’s  Radiant Ring Of Righteous Fire: Verbal component: A famous Johnny Cash song, which also serves as the Preparation H jingle. Surrounds the caster with a ring of golden flame that does 2-24 damage to undead if they pass through it. Skeletons ‘burn 1d6 per turn’, which is confusing… does it ignite them? If so, do they keep burning until they’re un-un-dead? Or does it mean they burn while standing in the ring, which would imply non-skeletons take the damage once? Non-undead take only 1d8 damage.

Heavenly Fog Of Hiding And Help: An opaque fog surrounds the caster and does… well, it’s a fog. That surrounds the caster. Not a healing fog. Not a fog that blocks any of the approximately 78 different things that can detect you when you’re hiding in fog. Not a fog that confuses, blinds, weakens, or otherwise hinders enemies. Just… a fog. Let me note this is a fifth level spell. So is Raise Dead (in most incarnations of D&D). I don’t think “resurrecting the slain” and “imitating someone dropping dry ice into the punch bowl” should belong in the same tier. Do you?

Solomon’s Sigel (sic) Of Absolute Imapsse (sic): Fiery 10′ star of David surrounds you, blocking all (take 2-20 points and save vs. petrification (my spell checker suggests “gentrification”. Brooklyn failed its save vs. gentrification, big time.) at -5 or turn to salt if you pass through). Undead take 10-100 points and must save vs. disruption or die! Again! More die!

Holy Word Of Command: All clerical spells reverse themselves and deactivate. I’m not sure what “reverse themselves” means when connected to “deactivate”… either one, alone, makes some sense… maybe it’s a visual effect, the deactivated spells “rewind” to dwindle to nothing? Please note that it stops all, even pillars of fire! It’s important this is called out; otherwise, you’d just assume it didn’t affect pillars of fire because… pillars? Fire?

Greylorne’s Hell Storm:

Forty Weeks, One Hundred Thousand Gold Pieces, And Totally Worth It

Forty Weeks, One Hundred Thousand Gold Pieces, And Totally Worth It

That’s a good place to break for this week. Next time — Druid spells, Techno Magic, and Hell Spirals!

The Runes Of Doom, Part VII

New Magic Spells!

Come For Aphrodisiac Aura! Stay For…

Hang On, There Might Be A Better Way To Phrase That

Nah. Not Really.

OK! It’s been five weeks or so, but I finally have things back on some kind of quasi-sane schedule. Not as sane as I would like, as my plan was to start writing this at 8 AM, but it’s now 2 PM, because apparently, to some people, “vacuuming” and “spending time with your family” is more important than allegedly humorous recapping of thirty year old gaming supplements for an audience measuring in the teens! The high teens! Harrumph!

Anyway, spells. The Runes Of Doom promises “over a hundred new spells”, but I never counted them. There’s quite a few, certainly. As usual, I’ll just be going through the pages, highlighting whatever strikes my highly random fancy. (Seriously, my fancy has, like, two pages of charts I have to roll on.)

Aphrodisiac Aura:

Hey, I Promised This One...

Hey, I Promised This One…

Just in case anyone thought I was making that up…

You may notice a new field in the spell description: “Weeks To Learn”. While it’s easy to interpret what this means, it kind of comes up as a surprise; it’s not in the earlier books. Likewise, cost — presumably, that’s the cost to learn it, whether it’s by buying a scroll (in the case of this spell, one sold out of the back room of the magic store) or investing in rare and exotic inks, possibly made from succubus blood or something. (Did you ever see the AD&D 1e rules for making even the simplest magic items? The amount of effort required to make a low level potion or scroll was phenomenal, and totally disconnected from the de facto commonality of such items, which could generally be found in any kobold’s outhouse or bedding, as if you could tell the difference. But I digress.)

Dunklemeyer’s Spell Of The Tarantella: Not tarantula. Like Otto’s Irresistible Dance, except only second level. It still affects every creature in a 30′ radius, making it ridiculously powerful for such a low level spell.

Patch Spell: When cast, will replace buggy old code with new code which has new bugs. No, sorry, it patches cloth or leather. So, let me make this perfectly clear: For the cost of 2 mana, I can either a)Make all enemies within 30′ of me dance the tarantella for 1 minute/level, effectively wiping out an entire encounter with a single spell, or, I can patch 1 square foot of cloth. Hmmm. Which should I learn?

Thurldon’s Reversal: Another second level spell, the target must save vs. magic or… turn around, which means they’ll need to turn back on their next action… which means nothing because changing facing is generally a trivial action. Sure, there’s that one in a thousand times when you can make someone turn and look at their pet gorgon, or something, but the other 999 times? Tarantella, please!

Torozon’s Slippery Spell, or, The Banana Peel Sneak: Causes an area to become “zero coefficient”, which is a fancy pants way of saying “frictionless”. Cast it on the sheets after you use Aphrodisiac Aura. (By the way, the “or” convention in some spell names is really kind of cool, as it reminds me of Rocky and Bullwinkle episode titles, which were themselves parodies of the 18th and 19th century style of book titles.

Hildegarde’s Heavy Helper: Conjures a 10′ cube of wet sand. No, really. That’s what it does. Yeah, I got nothin’.

Tirinyo’s Spell Of The Wall Of Ice And Fire: Each time you cast it, you have to wait longer and longer until you can cast it again. In addition, you feel compelled to describe every meal you eat in explicit detail, and describe some other things in explicit detail. OK, it actually creates a wall of fire. Which hides a wall of ice. So when you dash through the wall of fire and take fire damage, you also hit the wall of ice and take cold damage. (The spell can also be cast where the ice wall contains the fire wall, so the flickering flames cause the ice to shimmer and glow strangely. I consider that roughly 10.59 times more awesome than the default version.)

Azorn’s Fearfull (sic) Fiery Fist Spell:

Better Than Krystallars Kalamitous Kick...

Better Than Krystallars Kalamitous Kick…

Judging from context, “size” in this case means “hit dice”, not, you know, size. That’s as intuitive as anything else around here, I guess.

Khoreb’s Curse Of The Screaming Skull

ScreamingSkull

Based On One Of The Worst Movies Of All Time

Wakes you up at night to scream, gibber, moan, and mouth obscenities at you? Why not just call it “Khoreb’s Curse Of The 2AM Drunk Dial From Your Ex”?

Noad’s Bane, or, The Blue Banshee Of Shaamt: Conjures a blue ghost to fly through a town, wailing. For a few minutes. That’s it. It doesn’t kill people who hear its wail, or drain life levels, or anything else. It just flies around wailing. This takes ten weeks and 9,500 gold to learn. Wow. That’s almost as a big a ripoff as Trump University.

Jahk’s Spell Of The Singing Star: Summons a six pointed star that sings. Hey, it does what it says on the tin! Save vs. Charm or sit, enraptured. Also of note: Until now, the spells seemed to be at least vaguely arranged by level, but this is a third level spell, where the prior spells had reached sixth level. I think we’re seeing, once again, that Dave Hargrave was transcribing individual pages of his notes, instead of reorganizing the individual data elements on each.

Otherwise Known As "Wall Of DM Screwing The Players"

Otherwise Known As “Wall Of DM Screwing The Players”

Now, this is way better than friggin’ blue mist that screams! Toss this baby in front of your enemies, and see if the DM is properly grateful for the Chinese food you got for him/her! (Often, DMs had charts and tables for just such random occurrences. These were handy, as you could pretend to roll on them before making up what you wanted to happen.)

That’ll do for now. Still recovering from many weeks of working weekends. But I needed to get something done, and so, this is it.

The Runes Of Doom, Part V

The Runes Of Doom, Part V

Rules & Resurrection

With race and class out of the way, we can now move into the self-actualization of gender identity through an intersectual lens. Or, we could discuss rules for coming back from the dead. Again. (That can be interpreted as “coming back from the dead more than one time”, or “another time we’re discussing rules for coming back from the dead”. Actually, both are correct. We discussed resurrection before, but Dave Hargrave has more to say on the subject. We also look at a radical change to the hit point system, and some other stuff.

How To Reverse IRREVOCABLE Death

You Keep Using That Word. I Do Not Think It Means What You Think It Means

Contrary to the popular myth that old-school gaming treated death more seriously, the “revolving door afterlife” was a running gag from pretty much the earliest days of the hobby, as were attempts to jam a crowbar into said door, or at least slow down the rotation a bit. It is true that starting characters were a lot more fragile back then, and surviving to the point where you could access the magic that could bring you back was more difficult, but once you’d reached mid-levels (often very quickly if the DM was careless about magic items which could be sold for gold that in turn became XP), death was mostly a speedbump. DMs didn’t like this, of course — what was the point of having traps that killed characters in hideously fiendish ways if they were back the next day? — and so, variant rules abounded.

Digressing momentarily: There’s a strong connection between the depth of character creation and the survivability of said characters… or there should be. One common design trend in early spin-offs of D&D was to dramatically ramp up the number of steps needed to create a character, while not making it much harder to die, both in the name of “realism”. This was self-evidently frustrating and annoying. Something had to give, and since a high degree of customization was more desirable than dying easily, game design shifted towards much tougher starting characters. “Hours to create, a second to eviscerate” is no longer a popular design trope.

Anyway, back in Welcome To Skull Tower, Dave gave us some percentage chances of resurrection by race, level, and constitution. Now in the Runes Of Doom, Dave expands on that chart, adding in more conditions, explanations, variations, and perturbations.

  • You can only be resurrected within 30 days.
  • For each day from death, the chance of resurrection (from the Skull Tower chart) decreases 3%.
  • You get three trys(sic), unless you’re an elf, who only has one.
  • The second try is at a -20% chance, the third is at a -50% chance.
  • Keep track of how many trys(sic) it took to resurrect you; it matters.
And The Chance Of Resurrection Is Affected By Constitution, So...

And By “Permanently”, We Mean, “Until It’s Raised By Some Spell Or Artifact Or Something”

  • IRREVOCABLE or PERMANENT death requires a LIMITED WISH and a “raise dead fully”, a FULL WISH, or a GODLY GRANT. (All CAPS in ORIGINAL.) Saying death is “irrevocable” unless you cast a higher level spell is like saying something is not for sale, unless you have the money.
  • If you are disintegrated or 100% destroyed (which means taking over 200% of your hit points in acid or fire the like), resurrection requires THREE WISHES: One to reunite mind and body, one to reunite body and soul, and one to reconstruct the body from the free-floating atoms it has become. However, only one GODLY GRANT is required.
    • The wishes must be used within an hour of each other.
    • The wishes must be worded correctly, or the gods will “interpret” them as they see fit. The “wish lawyer” was a common feature at gaming tables in the 1970s.
  • (I’ve pointed this out before, but the fact there were so many rules for things that required multiple wishes (far more than just in Arduin), back in the day, really undermines the revisionist narrative that it was all fantasy fucking Vietnam back then. You don’t put up signs reading “Speed Limit: 150 MPH” until it’s commonplace that cars can go faster than that, and you don’t have multi-wish mechanics unless it’s assumed characters will have access to lots of wishes.) To understand anything in history, study primary sources. You cannot understand a time, or a culture, by seeing it filtered through the lens of those who came later and who have decided what is important. Read newspapers from WW2. Notice that while the headlines certainly reported on battles and suchlike, the vast bulk of the articles were so-and-so gets divorced, such-and-such won this sportsball event, some local politician made some speech as some club, and a new restaurant is opening on fifth and main. But I digress.)
  • And don’t think you can escape the long healing times of severe spinal injuries, just because your torn and mangled body has been recreated with those injuries erased!
Not Spinal Tap's Greatest Hits

Not Spinal Tap’s Greatest Hits

On a related note, the healing rules were also changed, using a perfectly logical system which, unfortunately, undermined the rationale for higher-level spells:

"Wounds Of The More Serious Sort" Are Often Inflicted by Rodents Of Unusual Size

“Wounds Of The More Serious Sort” Are Often Inflicted by Rodents Of Unusual Size

“Well, what’s wrong with that?”, you ask. “Makes sense to me!”

And it does, until you realize players are concerned with the letter, not the spirit, of the law. Under these rules, four Cure Light… I mean, Heal LesserWounds spells will restore any character, at any level, to full health. This greatly reduces the need to memorize higher-level healing spells. (Remember, at the time, there was none of this “swap out any prepared spell for a Cure spell” stuff!) It means a few Cure Light Wounds potions or scrolls can replace far more expensive and rare magic. Etc.

The Great Hit Point Revolution

However, this was partially miitgated by one of the more dramatic changes to the core D&D paradigm: Tossing (mostly) hit point inflation out the window.

  • Everyone gets 1 HP per point of Constitution.
  • Fighty and Thiefy types (including, oddly, Normals) get 1 HP/level.
  • Clericy types get 1 HP/2 levels.
  • Wizardy types (and Courtesans) get 1 HP/3 levels.

(The rules actually list a lot of classes as examples; I’m summarizing.)

  • Star Powered Mages never get extra hit points, because reasons.
  • Multiclass characters get all the hit points they’d get for their levels in each class, which isn’t a great system under the dominant multiclass rules at the time, as, given the same XP, a pure Fighter might be 11th level, while a Fighter/Thief would be 10/10… or have nearly twice as many bonus hit points as the 11th level fighter.
  • You get one-time bonus hit points determined by race, and sometimes, gender:
Half-Orcs Have Worse Hit Points Than Either Humans Or Orcs?

Half-Orcs Have Worse Hit Points Than Either Humans Or Orcs?

Fighters get +5 on top of this, Clerical types 3, and pointy-hat wearing finger-wagglers get 0. In addition, for every Constitution point over 12, you get 1 bonus hit point.

Next follows a rant aimed at “Monty Hall(sic)” players… huh. I can’t imagine why a setting known for its mu-meson swords, 50th level merchants, and 15th level spells would attract those types… it deserves to be presented in its entirety.

You Done Got Told

You Done Got Told

Guild Fees

Because, Why Not?

Following this massive revision of resurrection, healing, and hit points, we have a tiny little chart (about 1/5 page) about guild fees. This is the only thing on the page. Way to waste paper, Dave.

I Seem To Be Having Extreme Difficulty With My Lifestyle

Then we have a 1/3rd page chart of “Random Lifestyle Changes”, for when someone hits you with a Random Lifestyle Change effect, as often happened (Wands of Wimsey, any number of cursed items that could change your class, etc.)

And Onwards…

The next bit goes back to ‘highly dense page of teeny-tiny type’ mode, filled with even more rules and variations on combat. I’m on a tight schedule, so, we’ll do that next week. We’re up to Page 29, about a third done with the third book, if anyone cares.

 

Welcome To Skull Tower, Part XIII

Welcome To Skull Tower, Part XIII

Rules

And More Rules

And Still More Rules

I Got Your “Rulings, Not Rules”, Right Here, Pal!

In this part (and almost certainly the next part, since there’s no way I’m getting through all this in one go), we are covering Dave’s rule additions, alterations, addendums, and alliterations. (Yeah, I know ‘addendum’ is the plural of ‘addenda’ and there’s no such word as ‘addendums’. It’s poetic license. Gimme a break.)

But first…

Sign, Sign, Everywhere A Sign…

We get a page of “Dungeon Signposts”. Oddly, these are not “Turn Back, You Fool!” or “DM Hasn’t Finished Mapping This Yet”. These are a useful set of symbols for, presumably, mapping… and clearly intended for hand-mapping without intent to photocopy or reproduce.

Stairs That Go Nowhere Just For Show Are Colored Purple

Stairs That Go Nowhere Just For Show Are Colored Purple

The use of color is interesting. Most similar guides assumed the DM would be using a Number Two Pencil and that he/she would be photocopying the map, if they had access to their school or workplace’s copy machine. Dave evidently had a more artistic bent. I’m not sure using color instead of different symbols conveyed more information, frankly. I’d always forget if red meant ‘up’ or ‘down’.

At the bottom of the chart is a note:

REMEMBER, THIS DUNGEON IS ONE WHERE YOU HAVE ROOM TO EXPERIMENT, SO DO SO!

It’s not clear what “this dungeon” refers to. I believe the meaning is “In the Arduin-inspired dungeons you design, you are not bound by the puny rules of mortal men — let your imagination run wild!” Assuming this interpretation is correct, we’re seeing early signs of a long-running, still-ongoing, struggle in D&D between the wild&woolly world of galactic dragons and psychic centaurs, and the stoic, plodding world of human fighters and pouring water on the floor to detect pit traps.

Send In The Clones (And Golems, And More…)

And the fact the first item in “various rule changes” is “Clones” tells you all you need to know about which side of fun/boring divide Dave fell on. In his campaign, the use & abuse of clones had clearly reached egregious levels, so, rules were needed. I am 99% certain most of these rules came about due to players looking for loopholes. (A DC 30 Perception check… well, back then, you could find loopholes on a 4 or less on a six sided die, except for Power Gamers, who could find them on a 7 or less on an 8 sided die.)

Summarized, clones take one month to mature per year of the character’s age, and if the character dies before that (activating his clone), there’s a proportional loss of ability, though it’s not clear if this is based on level or total XP or what. Also, if you have more than one clone at a time, they will both go slowly insane and seek to kill each other and the original. Something tells me some of Dave’s players were setting up clone banks to continually replace themselves. I wonder how many were commie mutant traitors?

Then we have a few rules for golems, which don’t have anything to do with the prices and rules earlier in the same book. Go figure.

Next up, a very interesting paragraph about casting permanent spells on sapient magic items… that this came up enough Dave had to write rules for it says a lot about his campaign.

Angels

Not sure why this is in the “rules changes” and not “monsters”… I ought to know not to ask such foolish questions by now.

Don't Blink

Don’t Blink

I’m assuming (hoping) that their AC is 2+their Dexterity modifier to AC, because 2+16 would be -14 (if you have to ask why, you’re not old school), which is pretty ridiculous, even for Arduin. They’re followed by Archangels, which are even nastier. Lastly…

Of COURSE Angels Are Vulnerable To Anti-Matter!

Of COURSE Angels Are Vulnerable To Anti-Matter!

I like that angels can only haste themselves if their opponents are, too. Fighting fair is important!

In another moment where he anticipates design trends that won’t become part of D&D until third edition, Dave has scaling saving throw difficulties for spells…

The "Etc." Worries Me A Bit...

The “Etc.” Worries Me A Bit…

How many spells over 11th level are there? In Arduin, a good many, I suspect.

Stop! In The Name Of Time!

The Doctor should say that. Totally.

I noted earlier that time magic seemed to be a big thing in Arduin, and as further evidence, here’s some more rules on time stops. (Time Yields and Time Slow Children At Play may be covered in a future book.) To wit:

  1. Time stops don’t allow a saving throw.
  2. Unless you’re a balrog or the like, in which case, your innate magic resistance applies to non-technological time stops.
  3. Or if you’re ethereal, phased, astral, non-corporeal, or married filing singly.
  4. Gods and major demons have a 25% chance of “Gating” away automatically.
  5. Time stops are mammals.

Regeneration

So if you regenerate from being dead, you roll to resurrect to see if you survived being dead, but if you fail your roll to see if you survived being dead after regenerating, it’s not the same as failing to survive the roll to see if you survived being dead after resurrecting, so you can still be resurrected, at which point, you must make a roll to see if you survived it.

Got all that? Good. Now, let’s discuss Pathfinder grappling rules. Hey! Come back here, you coward! God damn it, I played freakin’ Aftermath when I was sixteen! A few rules didn’t scare us! Quitters!

Where was I?

Notes On Magik

Note The First: Myspellyngz Are Majikal

Having left behind rules on such mundane, normal topics as time stops, clones, and angels, we come to “Notes On Magik”.

A brief note (as it were) on the layout and formatting… this page is a delightful hodgepodge of non-sequiters, jumping from ice storms to elves to wishes to time stops (yes, again) with gay abandon. While the previous pages at least had a header line between each leap in subject matter, this page doesn’t, except for the one time that it does. Really, it’s a large part of the charm of these books, somewhat lost in the marginally more professional sequel volumes published several years later.

Elves:

Even For Arduin, This Is Confusing...

Even For Arduin, This Is Confusing…

So… what does ‘simultaneously’ mean? Round by round? Per fight? Per adventure? And does this apply to every form of multiclassing, or does it mean everything in Arduin except elves is single-classed? This reads like a very early house rule from the first year or two of D&D… the Greyhawk rules changed how multi-classed characters worked quite a bit, beginning the end of the ‘race=class’ model that fell apart as soon as it became evident that new classes would appear with great frequency. (The original OD&D rules had elves acting as either magic-users or fighting-men on an adventure-by-adventure basis; by Greyhawk, this had evolved to “split experience”, which became the standard until 3e.)

Wishes: Limited wishes in Arduin are 12th level(!) and full wishes are 25th level(!!), Also, wishes don’t work outside their native universe. Uhm… OK. Not really sure what that means… does that mean if I’m wearing a Ring of Wishes, it only works in the universe I found it in? Or that a high-level caster can only cast a wish spell in his home universe? It just seems a very odd rule that would have limited applicability… which means there’s probably a story behind it, somewhere.

Conjuration: Spells that “conjure” things, such as “Wall of Fire”, subtract their level from the caster’s Dexterity to determine when they go off in a round. Generally, most groups I know of ignored “dexterity countdowns” and similar things. Granted, they make more sense in Dave’s six-second rounds than in the standard one-minute round, but still, they were a real pain if you had a large combat, especially if the monsters all had different dex scores. Even in today’s games, with individual initiative, you roll for groups of monsters at once, so all the orcs attack on the same count. I appreciate the greater tactical depth offered by ‘countdown’ systems, and the choice between a low-powered ‘fast’ spell and a high-powered ‘slow’ one helps keep lower-level spells meaningful in the later game, but the negatives in actual play always outranked the positives, in my personal experience. (One of these decades, I’ll write something about rules I love in theory but dislike in practice.)

(The dexterity countdown rules were in The Arduin Grimoire, BTW. None of this is mentioned or referenced in this part of Welcome To Skull Tower, of course. If you’re Old School, you had the rules memorized and didn’t need to be reminded where they first appeared.)

Competence: Illusionists are light competent, Rune Singers are sonic competent, and Rune Weavers are ritual competent. Just in case you were wondering.

Time Stops: Yes. Again. There’s some fluff about why time stops don’t affect wraiths (and similar non-corporeal undead), but do affect energy, and then a note that for the caster to breathe in a time stop field, they have to keep moving, as only the air molecules touched by their aura are breathable. “Move or die”, the rules say. (So if you cast time stop in a zone filled with poison gas, you’ll still breathe it as you move in the zone… interesting….)

Tune In Next Time…

Following is “Notes On Clerics And Clerical Magik(sic)”, not to be confused with the other notes on clerics and clerical magic (I’m not sic) we covered a few articles back. So, this is probably a good stopping point for now. Next time: We delve into the notes, and probably magic (I’m feeling much better) fumbles, combat rules, and weapon breakage!

 

Welcome To Skull Tower, Part XI

Welcome To Skull Tower, Part XI

New Treasures

Or, “We Won’t Kill That Thing, ‘less It Drops Some Good Bling”

As I probably ranted about when we hit this section in the Arduin Grimoire1 walkthrough (but I’m too lazy to go back and look, and if I did, I’d probably notice typos and errors and ways to make the jokes better less worse, and never get around to finishing this) one of the myths of Old School Revisionism is that contrary to the modern “video game” RPGs where characters are blinged out like Christmas trees decorated by third world dictators, in the good old days, when men were men, women were strange and scary, and race and class were the same thing  (confusing the hell out of intersectionalists), you would be lucky to find a single +1 dagger after adventuring through every level of the Abyss, and you’d be grateful to get it, too. While I’m sure at least one or two games run in this manner existed, for most of us at the time… well, there’s a reason the term ‘Monty Haul2‘ appeared within a minute or two of D&D itself hitting the scene.

As noted, ‘player skill’ back then consisted of memorizing the rulebooks, so there was a perennial arms race between DMs who wanted players to have to work to figure out what their new gew-gaws did, and players who had developed frighteningly good ‘pruning’ algorithms to drill down through the possibilities, some of which were so efficient they only killed a mere 21.37% of henchmen used as guinea pigs. Thus, new magic items!

(It’s also the case that magic items, like spells, were one of the few ‘rules delivery vectors’. They were a way of making characters more distinctive in terms of the mechanics they had access too. Today, we have feats, class powers that involve picking from long lists of options, alternate class features, archetypes, yadda yadda. Back then, two members of the same class, of equal level, were almost indistinguishable, apart from their gear. So, it’s unsurprising that when describing a character in Ye Olden Dayse, people tended to go “He’s a level X class Y with item 1, item 2, and item 3”, because those items are what made him more unique.)

Anyway, on to the phat l00t! As always, I’ll be cherry-picking a handful of selections I find particularly interesting, for wholly subjective and illogical reasons.

It’s All About The Elminsters…

(Yeah, Elminster came long after the period I’m covering, but ‘It’s All About The Gandalfs’ doesn’t really scan, does it?)

Amulet Of Spell Eating: This “sphere of gold covered with 13 black onyx mouths” eats any spells cast within 20′ of it. The number it eats is indeterminate, but it’s “usually” 13 levels. (There’s no actual description of what “eating a spell” means, but I think it’s obvious from context that is absorbs all the magic so the spell doesn’t actually take effect). The eating occurs automatically… and once it is “full”, every spell it has absorbed is expelled. The intent may have been for this to be a defensive item, but the offensive possibilities are considerable… you could “feed” it  number of potent spells, toss it into a room full of enemies, hastily cast Yrretsenoj’s Conjuration Of The Wafer-Thin Mint, and shut the door as the fireworks go off.

Boots Of Time: They look, and act, like Boots of Elvenkind… until you enter a time stop field, which seems to be a common experience in Arduin. Then, they “activate”, and the wearer moves forward in time one minute per step… and the boots cannot be removed or deactivated. I guess if you stood still long enough people could “catch up” to you and give you food or something. The description makes it clear, though, that you’re basically doomed to wander into eternity forever. (I wonder what happens if you just cut off your legs? Trust me, someone would try it.)

Time-related magic was evidently a ‘thing’… maybe Dave was just on a creative roll and kept coming up with variations… I know the feeling. Sometimes, you get caught on a theme and each idea spawns other ideas… here’s two more:

But, Do They Go WithThe Boots Of Time? I Hate It When My Boots And Cloak Clash

But, Do They Go With The Boots Of Time? I Hate It When My Boots And Cloak Clash

First: I wish to once more state my unsarcastic (yes, really) and unironic appreciation for the direct, enthusiastic, and personal writing style that defines the Arduin Trilogy. The use of “quotes” and italics conveys Dave Hargrave’s voice and style across the decades.

Second: The “Cloak of Time” is “woven of 100 minutes”. God damn, people, is that evocative, or what? I can imagine a wizard bargaining with the Fates, buying 100 minutes cut from the lives of others (or, even better, from the creator’s own life), to make this cloak… which would usually be conveyed like this:

DM: So, the legend goes, to craft this item, the Archmage tore apart the fabric of reality and went unto the weavers of men’s lives. There he did bargain with them for…
Player: How many gold pieces is it worth?
DM: What? Look, I’m giving you some backstory here. I spent a lot of time on this. Anyway, the bargaining went on for…
Player: Does anyone want this? We could sell it.
Other Player: Look, if he’s handing us something that lets us move in a timestop field, it means there’s going to be one and he doesn’t want us whining about it. So someone take it.
DM: Will you stop metagaming? And let me finish the backstory!
Other Other Player: Better let him finish, I bet there’s a clue hidden in all this drivel.
DM: (/facedesk)

So it goes.

Gauntlets Of Ice And Fire: Each pair of these gauntlets takes progressively longer to produce, and the more people whine about when the next one will be ready, the crankier the crafter gets. Those wearing the gauntlets have a tendency to describe every meal they eat in great detail, visit whores, and murder people at weddings. Also, they will make any weapon or shield held either flaming (for +1d8) or cold (for +1d6), but not both at once. That would just be silly.

Occam’s Razor:

+3 Against Conspiracy Theorists

+3 Against Conspiracy Theorists

I’m sure a lot of people came up with magic items or spells based on this term, given the kind of people playing D&D at the time. (The ‘or psychic’ is kind of odd.. does that mean ‘any mage (or psychic)’  or, ‘any mage with an intelligence of 15 or more, or, any psychic regardless of intelligence’? I’m kind of guessing the former.)

More Time:

Like I said, this seems to have been “a thing”:

No "Ring Of After"?

No “Ring Of After”?

These two items have some interesting limits. Can the “Ring of Before” be passed from party member to party member once the three charges are used up? As for the “Ring of Maybe”, does it reform for someone else? If not, you have to wonder how many of these could be left lying around… (And why narrow it to ‘disintegrated’ when you could just say ‘killed’ and not have to guess about how you’ll die?)

Wand of Tantivy

Who Is Lee?

Who Is Lee?

Naturally, I googled “tantivy”. It means “at full gallop”, “rush”, or, a hunting cry… all pretty much the opposite of the meaning implied in the magic item. Clearly, I’m missing something.

The Tome Of Time: Yeah, so, totally a thing. This is one of those magic books that does good things if you’re the right kind of reader and bad things if you’re not. Specifically, if you’re a full mage, you become “time competent” (+2 to time related things) and if you’re not, you are timestopped for 1-20 days. Undoubtedly, you will wake up with crude images of genitalia drawn on your face.

Shark Bolts: There’s nothing I can write that would do anything but detract from the awesomeness of this item.

Ballistas Use Megalodon Bolts

Ballistas Use Megalodon Bolts

Life Savers: Courtesy of Clint Bigglestone, Life Savers are… well… candy that saves your life. If you put one in your mouth prior to combat (each lasts five minutes), and you’re killed, you will be instantly raised! Pretty cool, eh? Unfortunately, the Godly Grant Candy Co. (really, that’s what it says in the text!) puts out many items that look identical, but will kill you, turn you into a butterfly, etc. Any attempt to identify what you’ve got, by magic or science, instantly renders them inert. So, you’re pretty much taking your life in your hands… or your mouth, as the case may be.

Marvexian Magic Beans: Once more, I find it difficult to add to the actual text…

Seems Like Something The Weaselys Would Sell...

Seems Like Something The Weaselys Would Sell…

As far as I know, Mar-Vexians were not defined in the original trilogy, or possibly anywhere, but I’ll keep an eye out for them.

Next time: The new monsters guarding the new magic!

A request: If you like this article, or the others in the series, please share on whatever social media you use.


1: My spell checker suggests ‘Gregoire’ for ‘grimoire’. Go figure.

2: Yes, “Haul”, not “Hall”. If you encounter someone claiming to be old-school who spells it “Monty Hall”, you may know them for a poseur, and sneer at them mightily.

Welcome To Skull Tower, Part X

Welcome To Skull Tower, Part X

Fields Of Famine, Stones To Spiders, and Heavenly Umbrellas

Also: Cleric Reaction Rules, Or, “Out Of Network Cures Are Not Covered”

Here we are, part X. About halfway through Skull Tower, which means, halfway through the original trilogy. (Don’t worry, I’ve got lots more related stuff, including Arduins 4-8 (I think I missed 9…), some Dragon Tree press things, and more.

We (probably — remember, I never know at the start of these things how they’re really going to turn out) finish the spells today, and the clerical “reaction rules” — does the cleric of Benevolar The Just And Good heal the follower of Thrugorth The Bloodfanged? Roll a D20!

Druid Spells

Balkwyr’s Basic Ritual Of The Calling Of The Lesser Winds: Other than the obvious jokes that 14 year olds will inevitably make about this spell, it’s pretty useful: It will blow gasses away (stop giggling!) at 10′ per turn. As you might recall from earlier articles, dungeons in Arduin are filled with all kinds of vapors, mist, and fogs, especially when the orcs have their chili cookoffs. (Fine, my inner fourteen year old comes out a lot.)

Khermal’s Puissant Color Of Mystikal(sic) Magic: Remember, folks, a ‘k’ makes it more mystikal! Anyway, this is basically a prismatic wall… at third level. It’s not clear if the spell creates all the different colors noted (blue causes paralysis, red does 2d20 heat, black causes blindness, etc.) or if the druid picks one. In the first case, it’s insanely powerful for third level. In the second case, it’s more reasonable, but still ridiculously flexible. I wouldn’t memorize anything else for that level!

Tadraen’s Spell Of The Field Of Famine: Destroys all plant life in a 30′ (+5′ per level) radius centered on the druid. No word on if this affects mobile, hostile, plant of the sort that infests every D&D-type forest, making walks in the woods high-risk affairs. It does say “all plant life”, but as a DM, I’d be loathe to let a druid exterminate my ent army in an instant with a fifth level spell. Also, the resulting cloud of choking, blighted dust has a 10% chance of killing anyone who breathes it… including the druid’s allies if they’re in the area, and, erm, I’d guess, the druid themselves… oops…

Cleric Spells

Tyr’s Spell Of The Heavenly Umbrella: Vital if your character wants to break into an impromptu rendition of “Singing In The Rain” (they may need the Boots Of Astaire for that, though), this spells does “what it says on the tin” — it creates a broad dome above the character that is immune to liquids falling from above. It also repels slimes and oozes. After Knobby Foot has already revealed the trap that pours acid from the ceiling, this spell can get you though it (be nice and mop up what’s left of him on the way… you can take the Raise Dead costs out of his pay). Since it only covers the area above the caster, the spell notes “some might splash onto him if he’s not careful”, which instantly leads to “how do you tell if the cleric is being careful or not?”

Stanson’s Stones To Spiders Spell: Yeah, I’ll see your “sticks to snakes” and raise you “stones to spiders”. Coming soon: “Sand To Centipedes”, “Sod To Skunks”, and “Surf To Stegosaurs”.

(There’s also four different ‘Mending’ spells, for cloth, wood, metal, and intelligent metal.)

Healing, Regenerating, Etc.

Sorry, That Sword Through Your Gut Is A Pre-Existing Condition

Ah, one of my favorite parts of the Arduin experience… numbered notes and RULES with IMPORTANT words in CAPITAL letters. These are an assortment of Dave’s rules, guidelines, and declarations regarding clerics, healing, and anything else he happened to think of while typing these up.

A few selections:

All SPELLS that HEAL take one minute per point of damage to fully heal.: Wow. That’s a pretty major shift from ‘bippity-boppity-boo, you’re at full hit points’. It makes in-combat healing via cleric spell nigh-impossible. (Dave used 6 second rounds, you will recall.) So every ten rounds, you get back one hit point from a spell. I repeat: Wow. How anyone in Dave’s games lived to second level, I don’t know.

Actually, never mind combat healing at all: It then says that spell/device healing requires the target be motionless through the entire process.

Also, you can only heal up to your Constitution times your level per day. So keep track of the total wounds you’ve taken, not just your current HP score.

Clerics wear/wield armor/weapons appropriate to their deity. Those who say “Well, duh” clearly don’t know Old School Gaming, where all clerics, no matter their god, were forbidden from using edged weapons. It rapidly became a running joke. It was done, I think, to prevent clerics from pretty much totally eclipsing fighters, because they already got full armor proficiency, and if they had access to all the good magic weapons (which were all blades), plus spells, there would be even less reason to play a single-class fighter than there already was.

Now, we get to the fun part… what happens when a chaotic evil dwarf thief asks for a healing spell from the lawful good cleric? You roll some dice, of course!

If You Like Your Deity, You Can Keep It...

If You Like Your Deity, You Can Keep It…But You Get a +6 If You Don’t

This is followed by a few more modifiers, including fairly important ones for alignment — the more different the alignment, naturally, the more extreme the penalty. Evil clerics charge double for the same bonus. +6 bonus if the wounded person promises to convert, but a -10 penalty if they then fail to follow through.

The chart itself:

I'm Sorry, That Procedure Is Not Covered.

I’m Sorry, That Procedure Is Not Covered

I’d modify a bit: If the result is negative, the cleric actually casts an “Inflict” spell of the same type as the requested “Cure”. I’d eliminate the “every time” part, too, because that ignores how situations (and alignments) might change. Also, does “Will do it free” means that if the target paid in advance to get positive bonuses, they get their money back?

Some people reading this might wonder as to the necessity of this chart. “Why not just roleplay it?” Well, at the time, a lot of players were not exactly amateur thespians, though they did often fantasize about them. (Badu-BUM!) Trivial things like “alignment” and “background” were often ignored in favor of treating characters more like modern video-game avatars, simply a stand in for the player. Thus the question of “Will the Cleric of Good heal the Anti-Paladin?” was usually answered by “Did the guy playing the anti-paladin chip in his fair share for the Chinese food?” (Usually not, ’cause the kind of people who played anti-paladins were usually the kind of people who were generally asshats.) Likewise, random charts like this helped avoid at least a few arguments with the DM over why he was being “such a jerk” by not having the High Priest of Benevolar heal the party from the damage they received while looting the Temple of Benevolar’s orphanage fund. (And, really, it’s sooooo stupid they’d still be pissed off. After all, we burned down the orphanage last game, so, it’s not like they need the money!)

35 Years And A Half-Dozen Editions Later, It's Still Burning...

35 Years And A Half-Dozen Editions Later, It’s Still Burning…

Next time… new treasure!

Friendslayer Blade

Friendslayer Blade, A Cursed Weapon For Pathfinder

Introduction

Continuing our theme of “curses“, as in “God damn it, where the hell did we pack my copy of Welcome To Skull Tower?1“, we present a cursed… but still useful… magic item. While classic D&D tended to make cursed items all bad, a punishment for greedy players who didn’t carefully experiment with items (except that cursed items explicitly didn’t show their nature when tested, only in real combat), I think it’s more interesting to make cursed items a bit of a double-edged mace… give players a reason to try to hang on to them, or at least consider it…

Please note, this post is filed under “Breakfast Crunch”, which means “Something I wrote while eating breakfast before scurrying off to work, with exactly as much editing, playtesting, and general quality as you’d expect under the circumstances.”

The Friendslayer Blade

The origins of the first friendslayer blade are lost in the mists of time, (“Mists Of Time”, Module P-238, published by TSR in 1979 on Earth 541-A) but similar weapons reappear with some regularity. The curse seems to be a result of poor mental discipline during enchantment; the mindset needed to imbue the weapon with the desired power requires strict focus, and if that focus drifts, the enchantment is warped.

A friendslayer blade can be any +1 or better magical weapon that does piercing or slashing damage, with the following special ability:

Murderous
Price: +1 Bonus
Aura: Faint necromancy
CL: 3rd
A murderous weapon allows the wielder to make a coup de grace attack as a swift action against an adjacent, helpless, foe. This does provoke attacks of opportunity, but at a -4 penalty to the attacker.

Murderous blades are common among assassins, spies, elite military units, and others who maintain a ‘no witnesses’ policy and prefer to waste not even a second if they don’t have to. Perhaps 5% of such blades, though, bear the friendslayer curse.

Friendslayer Curse: Whenever an ally falls helpless in a square adjacent to the wielder of a murderous weapon, said wielder must make a DC 20 Will save or, at the start of their next turn, perform a coup de grace with the blade against that ally. This is an Enchantment (Compulsion) effect. It can be mitigated if:

  • There is a helpless enemy also adjacent.
  • The ally or the blade wielder is moved — note the wielder cannot voluntarily move to avoid the compulsion once they’ve failed their Will save!
  • Break Enchantment is cast before the wielder’s turn begins. This negates only the current compulsion; it doesn’t end the curse.

The compulsion only comes into effect during combat situations; it does not compel the wielder to slit the throats of his allies as soon as they go to sleep, unless it’s magical sleep cast by an enemy during combat. Then…

It is generally difficult to tell a friendslayer weapon from a normal, uncursed, murderous weapon; the normal rules for detecting cursed items apply.

1)Seriously, I’ve only got like four boxes marked “Lizard’s Books” to go through, out of more than 150 to start with, and I still haven’t found it. Arduin Grimoire and Runes of Doom? Check. Skull Tower? Nada.

More Curses

More Curses (Foiled Again!)

But First, A Digression

(There’s A Shock….)

It occurs to me that dying curse is a poor choice for spontaneous casters, who have very few spells known, and would be loathe to waste one of them on something they’ll use maybe once or twice in their lifetime… erm… as it were. This is irksome, because it fits, thematically, very well with most spontaneous casters, more than with the ‘academic’ types, as it’s an expression of raw magical energy unleashed in a moment of extreme trauma. So, some ideas:

  1. Just let spontaneous casters, if it fits the nature of the specific class, and the particular character’s background, get it as a freebie. It adds a nice bit of background fluff: “For whosoever slayeth a sorcerer, they shalt suffer the fury of the departing, accursed, spirit!”
  2. As 1, but it only fires if there’s 2 spell slots of the appropriate level or higher left.
  3. Let them add it to their ‘spells known’ at the cost of a trait.

OK, on to the main article…

The Main Article!

(Trumpet Fanfare)

Bestow Curse is pretty boring. Sure, the particular curses are effective, but they’re kind of… dull. So, here’s a few more options, as many as I can think of before I have to stagger off to work. This is Breakfast Crunch: Stuff I write when eating breakfast before going to my job, with all the editing, playtesting, and quality that implies.

The Curse Of Consumptive Casting: Only useful if aimed at a being that relies heavily on spells, this curse causes the victim to take damage equal to twice the spell’s level whenever they cast a spell or use a spell-like ability — 0-level spells do 1 point. This damage cannot be avoided or mitigated, and cannot be magically healed. The same damage is also taken when spells are cast from wands, rods, or scrolls.

The Curse Of Perilous Penury: No magic (or occult, or psionic, or divine, or… you get the idea) items function for the victim. Magic armor and weapons are normal masterwork items. Rings, amulets, cloaks, boots, masks, yadda yadda, are simply mundane, if well-made, items, as far as the target of this curse is concerned. They cannot use wands, scrolls, potions, or miscellaneous magic. They can cast spells, and be affected by spells, normally — with the exception of spells that grant enhancement bonuses to either the victim or any items they’re carrying. No Bull’s Strength for you! This curse can be particularly crippling to higher-level characters, as they rely on their items to be equal to the challenges they face.

The Curse Of The Spider Queen: The target is permanently affected by a web spell. It fills the space they occupy and moves with them. Any allies moving adjacent to them are also targeted (they may make a reflex save, DC equal to the save DC of the bestow curse, as usual, to avoid). (The curse doesn’t transfer to allies, just the webs.) The victim of the curse needs to make a combat maneuver/Escape Artist check to move each round, just as if they were moving through an area affected by web. Even if they make it, each square is difficult terrain. If the web is set on fire, the victim takes 2d4 damage and the web burns away, but reforms 1d4 rounds later. Due to the cursed nature of the web, no fire resistance or immunity applies to this damage… something that might be learned the hard way… heh heh heh…

Lastly, the victim cannot climb faster than 5’/round, due to the sticky mass of webs, and suffers a -4 to all Charisma-based skill checks, because, well, you chat politely with someone who is literally exuding masses of goop everywhere they go.

The Invocation Of Malevolent Mundanity: Half of the character’s levels (round up) become levels in Commoner. The victim may choose which levels are so affected. Any levels they gain before having the curse removed will also be in Commoner. Removing the curse does transform the character’s original levels back to what they were, but not any levels gained while under the influence of the curse. If this curse affects a PC, everyone else can go get Chinese food while the player recalculates. (Alternatively, teach each Commoner level as a negative level during the current session, then they can recalculate after the game.) Any Mythic Rank they may have had goes bye-bye as well.

The Insalubrious Lubrication: The victim is permanently affected by a grease spell. Every square they enter is treated as being affected by this spell, with all DCs based on the save DC for the original curse. In addition, any adjacent squares occupied by allies suffer the same effect. Enemies are just fine, thank you very much. Beyond the usual effects of grease, any time the victim takes damage, they must make an Acrobatics check (DC 10+the damage dealt) or fall prone. Climbing is virtually impossible; all climb checks suffer a -6 penalty.

The Malediction Of The Leaded Foot: The victim is permanently slowed, as per the spell. Haste will negate the effects of the curse for only one round, regardless of the spell’s normal duration.

 

Dying Curse

In honor of the RPG Blog Carnival theme of “Curses”, here’s a quick Pathfinder spell…

Dying Curse
School
necromancy; Level  antipaladin 2, bloodrager 3, cleric/oracle 2, shaman 2, sorcerer/wizard 3, witch 2;
Casting Time 1 immediate action or free action, see below
Components V or none, see below
Range close (25 ft + 5 ft/2 levels)
Target see below
Duration permanent
Saving Throw Will negates; Spell Resistance yes

This spell functions as bestow curse, except that it is triggered by the caster’s death.

If a caster has dying curse prepared (or known, for spontaneous casters, with a spell slot of the appropriate level remaining), it can be activated when the caster drops to 0 or fewer hit points. The decision to activate, or not, must be made upon receiving the lethal damage; the caster cannot drop to, say, -5 hit points and then wait a round or two see how the battle is going before deciding to trigger the spell, nor can they do so if they receive more damage while at negative hit points. The instant the caster drops to 0 or lower, they must decide; if they do not invoke the spell at that point, it cannot be cast until some point when they’ve gone back to positive hit points and then back into negatives. (Nor can it be triggered by self-inflicted damage, including such things as the barbarian’s loss of hit points when a rage ends.)

If the caster is dying, but not yet dead, and is capable of speech (not silenced, gagged, etc.), they can designate the target of the curse (within range) and the specific effect1. This is an immediate action. If the caster is killed instantly (going from positive hit points to dead in a single attack), or cannot speak, the spell still activates, but the target is whoever struck the killing blow, or, if that person is not in range, the nearest enemy in range, and the effect is random. This is a free action.

Upon casting, the caster instantly dies. Dropping dead is a free action. No magical or mundane healing short of raise dead can help; spells or class features or the like which allow for last-second recovery from recent death do not function. The caster expends a portion of their life energy to cast the spell; this makes them really most sincerely dead. Contingent healing spells (regardless of what granted the contingency effect) likewise fail to work. Let’s be clear: There’s no loophole. The intent of this rule is clear: You invoke dying curse, you die, you are no more, you have ceased to be, you have rung down the curtain and joined the choir invisible, and only raise dead or more potent spells can bring you back. The fact I cannot possibly list every interaction of every rule in the massive bulk of the collected tomes of Pathfinder should not be an invitation to find an ‘out’ and then exploit it. If a player tries, the GM has my permission to take the Pathfinder Core Rulebook and whap the offender over the head.

1: Ideally, this should be roleplayed, “From hell’s heart, I stab at thee!”, etc.