Skill Challenges are probably one of my favorite parts of 4th edition Dungeons & Dragons.  I love the framework it provides to an ongoing situation or story.  I love that skills are actually really useful in a tangible and noticeable way.  I use them quite frequently in my games and they’re a fantastic tool.  Unfortunately they’re also quite hard to run in a fun and dynamic way.  It’s taken me a good deal of time and effort, but I finally think I’ve hit upon the core problem of skill challenges and a rather easy to implement solution.

The core problem with a skill challenge is that it’s dead easy to fall into a very static “roll and repeat” cycle.  The DM names a skill and difficulty, the player with the best bonus rolls, and you repeat the process all over again.  It’s easy to understand why this happens, too – that’s how the rules are more or less represented.  The Dungeon Master’s Guide does go into some good detail on framing the scene, but precious little is said about actually moving the story forward – and that’s what you have to do when running a skill challenge.

In my mind you should only make a roll during a “breaking point” in each scene of the skill challenge.  This is the point where the PCs have to act or react, for good or ill.  Furthermore, this action should move the story and change the situation regardless of success or failure.  The fastest way to fall into a static skill challenge is by not changing the situation after every roll.  If Bob the Bard fails his Diplomacy roll when speaking with the Duke that’s going to have as many consequences as a successful check.  Either the Duke leans in and whispers about the assassination plot or he calls for his guards to oust the PCs – either way something happens and the story moves forward.

By changing the situation, even slightly, after every roll you bring in new skills and change how the players see the situation.  The situation should never stay static once you roll.  Something has to happen, for good or ill, and new skills should come into play.  Which is easy to talk about here but hard to actually put into practice.  The simple fact is that running skill challenges like this requires a good deal of improvisation and thinking on your feet.  It’s not something that everyone is good at and I think it’s the main reason that the skill challenges are presented as they are now.

Furthermore, I don’t like listing what skills are used in the challenge.  Instead I frame the situation and ask my players “how do you resolve this issue?”  Players are a crafty bunch and often times they’ll come up with a unique solution that you hadn’t thought about using.  Try to roll with it, assign a difficulty as best you can, and keep the action moving.  This invests the players further into the story and lets everyone try and use their favored skills, ensuring that the action moves along at a brisk pace.  If your players get stymied or stuck you can suggest a few actions, but by and large try and let the players think of solutions themselves.  You’ll be surprised at how creative they can get when given the opportunity.

All of this is great on paper, but I know some of you are going “how in the hell do I plan for all these options?”  The short answer is that you don’t: there’s no way to know everything your players are going to do.  Instead I’ve found it’s much more useful to sketch out the situation and area and the possible reactions of all the characters involved.  I don’t need to know that Fytor is going to try and leap across the chasm and try to beat up my lizard shaman – all I need to know is that the shaman has henchmen and a few traps littered around.  Fytor goes from rolling Athletics to bridge the gap to rolling Acrobatics to evade all those nasty traps.

Even if you want something more structured you still need to move things along briskly.  Try to map out where each successful and unsuccessful check will take the PCs.  You don’t need a ream of notes, but knowing which skills the PCs will be rolling after every success and failure is rather helpful.  Even a simple outline of the flow of events can be hugely helpful when it comes time to roll the dice.

In short, remember the following:

• Each skill check should change the situation and the skills available (even – or especially – on a failure).
• Try to let the PCs name what skills they want to use, if at all possible.
• If you know the situation and players involved you can wing everything else.
• Either say yes or roll the dice.

Here’s wishing you luck on your next skill challenge!  They don’t have to be boring and they can add a lot to your game if you’re willing to just wing things a little.

Tonight I had the final and epic battle of a short 3 adventure campaign I ran for my regular group and a long lost gaming buddy who returned to us for a limited 3 month run.  I’m happy to say that things went smoothly, everyone had a lot of fun, and the good guys won out in the end.  Yet when I think back over tonight I’ve come to realize that the most memorable battle for me wasn’t the final encounter with the nasty evil menace, it was one of the previous encounters.  The reason it sticks out in my mind, at least to me, has to do with the fight environment.

The more interesting battle took place in a temple that was built deep underneath a lake.  It was filled with air, but the bottom level had the corners open out into the lake and channels of water that flowed around the room.  Every round one of the channels would fill with water and try to wash away whoever was foolish enough to stand in them.  It featured enemies who could swim and who understood the terrain.

This area forced the players and characters to think about where they moved and opened up some interesting tactical considerations and roleplaying moments.  The poor swordmage got pushed into a channel of flowing water by the tail slap of a lizard man, but she managed to escape thanks to the quick thinking of her friends.  That was interesting.  It was dynamic.  It was memorable!

The final battle, in contrast, took place in the village where the nasty monster from beyond the stars crawled out of the well.  Sure, it had a lot of interesting things in the environment to use, but none of the players were forced to interact with them, or even encouraged.  The fight was tougher, sure, but it was less interesting because the environment was so darn passive.

These days I think that an environment that changes the field of battle and provides interesting ways to use it is far preferrable to stagnant and passive environments.  Especially in a game so tactically crunchy as 4th edition Dungeons & Dragons.  I’ve stopped thinking about the battlefield as a passive place and started treating it more like a monster or active participant in a fight.  The terrain should move, or provide new options in a fight, or even just provide some really interesting set dressing.

Sure, this concept isn’t new to roleplaying and I’m sure that a lot of you out there have done this for years.  I’ve done it myself once in a while, but this is the first time since I started running games where it’s in the front of my mind.  And let me tell you right now, that’s a really good thing!  It’s made my fights more interesting and memorable and really forced me to think about how the players might actually move about a space.  It makes things seem more real.

So, the next time you’re planning that epic battle for your group, sit down and really thinkg about where it’s going to take place.  See what you can do to make the battle more interesting by spicing up the environment.  You might be surprised what a difference it makes!

So, I can’t just let my friends get all up in my blog and throw around their own opinions without adding my own, can I?  I figure that it’s high time that I throw down and explain just why I love 4th edition Dungeons & Dragons to itty bitty little pieces.

My friends and those that know me through various message boards generally know that I’ve always been a big supporter of the latest edition of just about any game (Changeling: the Lost notwithstanding).  Generally I feel that most new editions are actual improvements over the old ones, at least when it comes to my own preferences when it comes to roleplaying games.  Now, in the past I’ve been a bit of an edition elitist when it came to my favorite, but thankfully my friends disabused me of my superiority and I’m now what you’ll call a positive champion.  Yes, I like 4th edition over any other editions, but I realize know that it’s because the rules adhere to what I want in a game and not because it’s flat out superior.  I’ll never say that one game is strictly better than another game or edition, but I will state that I think it works better for me.

So, why do I love 4th edition so very much?  There are a variety of reasons, but the biggest is because I really love crunchy bits in a game, so long as those crunchy bits aren’t too complex.  I love 4th edition, and Mutants and Masterminds, but I also like games like Spirit of the Century or Savage Worlds.  I like my crunch on the medium to moderate level, not super complex like Hero or as fiddly as GURPs.

For me, 4th edition hits that perfect level of crunchy and “rules light.”  Yes, there are a lot of powers and fiddly bits, but by and large they all follow one generic framework that’s easy for me to understand.  I like combing through all the books looking for that perfect feat or power, I gather a great deal of enjoyment finding things like this.  For me character creation is just as much a fun part of the game as playing itself.  I love finding that combination of feats, powers, and skills that can be combined in an awesome way.

Some of my friends call me a power gamer, and I suppose that I have to cop to that to a certain extent.  I don’t like breaking the game or coming up with stupidly powerful combinations of things, but I do like my characters to be really effective.  System mastery and rules mastery are fun and enjoyable to me, and 4th edition definitely scratches that itch.  And best of all once I know all those rules I can tweak or ignore them to my hearts content when I run a game.

I also like class base systems, and after running at least two or three games for groups of newbies I can tell you that classes are actually really valuable when introducing new players to the hobby.  They’re a wonderful package of “cool things you can do” that are a nice shorthand for a new player to wrap their head around.  If I have a new player who wants to help his buddies I can point him right at any leader class and then let them go from there.

I also love running games, and for me 4th edition has been a vast improvement over the earlier editions.  I have all the tools, digital and otherwise, to create fun and dynamic encounters that are both flavorable and tactically interesting enough to make running them very enjoyable.  There is just something about how 4th edition monsters work that I can so easily understand that it’s been pretty trivial to prepare an adventure.  Compared to the previous edition my prep time is about 1/10th of what it used to be, which means I can concentrate more on creating interesting areas and plots than on what magic items an NPC might be carrying.

That and 4th edition is also interesting in that it’s kind of two games in one.  On one hand you have your classic “kill them and take their stuff” challenge of a traditional D&D game (not to say that my games are that simple).  On the other hand you have this wonderful tactical miniature style battle game when you start rolling initiative.  I have so much fun figuring out how my group of monsters is going to beat up the PCs, running each combat like a little miniatures skirmish game.  I live for this kind of stuff and 4th edition is pretty unique in that I can sort of get two games in one.

Finally, the rest of my regularly weekday group has always been a D&D group.  It’s the game they like far mroe than any other and we generally use the newest edition.  I’m lucky in the fact that my players actually enjoy the same system that I do, and that my good friend and fellow GM upstairs is just as enthusiastic as I am.  We talk for hours about how to do various things and what we’re going to spring on each other the next time we run.

All that said, I still enjoy a lot of other systems too.  The weekend group I have (I’m fortunate enough to have not one, not two, but three different groups) tends to dabble in a lot of different systems, and I have to say that it’s been really good for me over all to try out so many different things.  Learning how other systems work just reinforces my love of 4th edition and all the other games, because each one brings something different to the table.  And in this day and age all us gamers have no excuse not to use the perfect tool for the job.  Or the right system for our preferences.  And when it comes to a fantasy game, that right system is 4th edition for me.

“It’s during long pauses such as these that we often grow philosophical and ponder the deeper questions of gaming…

Just where did that tiger keep those 20 silver pieces?”
~GM Hold music (sednagames.com)

Lately I have noticed the discussion crop up on a variety of message boards over ‘Is Dungeons and Dragons really all about killing things and taking their stuff?”  The discussion invariably then delves into people saying “Yes, but it can be about a whole lot more” or “Well X edition was a whole lot more about killing things and taking their stuff than Y edition” or the people who stick up and say “Yes, that IS what it is all about.”  Yet one of the things I always notice about the discussion is that while gamers spend a great amount of time arguing how DnD can be so much more than killing things and taking their stuff or lambasting their least favorite edition while supporting their favorite no one stops to ask: is it OK that the game could fundamentally be centered on killing things and taking their stuff?

Everyone pussyfoots around it, like it is some dirty little secret that didn’t make millions of dollars for the video game industry.  But, despite me being a White Wolf loving, story-based, hang-the-rules sort of roleplayer, I’m going to tell you straight: there is nothing wrong with the concept of a game being founded on ‘kill things, take their stuff.’

Now before you rush out and go have a Mountain Dew rampage on how plebian I am, let me explain.  Let us, for a second; break down the basic structure of the “Kill Things, Take Stuff” plot.  In my mind it has 4 stages:

Problem (There are monsters)
Action (The PCs go find the monsters – usually in the form of a ‘dungeon crawl’)
Resolution (The PCs kill the monsters)
Reward (The PCs get stuff from killing monsters)

The Problem -> Action -> Resolution -> Reward structure is a primer for a successful RPG story.  It is one of the most basic, tried and true plotlines of DnD – or any other game.  It can be as simple as shown about or it can be far more sophisticated:

Problem (Innocent children have been disappearing from the PCs hometown, and last night the mangled corpse of a child was found in a dark alleyway)
Action (The PCs start a careful detective-style investigation into the shady elements of this city)
Resolution (After many clues and some random encounters the PCs decide that one of the respected politicians of the town is actually a corrupt wizard who is responsible for this atrocity, so they confront him)
Reward (Defeating their foe, the PCs find and release the surviving children.  The Lord of the city gives them a generous reward – or conversely they loot the dead wizard and take his stuff )

Either way and everything in between, the structure gives players what they crave: the chance to take actions that bring about solutions and give them rewards so they can go solve bigger and badder problems.  To reiterate: players want resolution and reward.  They put the work into solving the problems the DM presents them with, and in order to make the game gratifying to them, they want rewards for taking that action.  While setting up a problem is easy for most any DM, working the game through to a conclusion is more difficult.  Dungeons and Dragons sets up an almost fail-safe game structure where getting rid of obstacles (killing monsters, defeating traps, ect ect) grants reward and leads to a conclusion.  At the end, the DM can tally up all of the treasure and XP and reward his or her players.

I’m going to argue that the creators of the original DnD intimately understood what made the game fun, and that resolution and reward were an integral part of the enjoyment of the game.  That is why by-the-book you get treasure for slaying monsters and why the game seems set up to kill things and take stuff: it provides inherent rewards.  I will go so far to say that the DMG should be required reading for anyone who wants to lead any game system, because beyond the rules specific to whatever edition of DnD you play, the book is filled with a wealth of information on how to structure a basic game plot.  Don’t scoff at the seemingly simple examples.  Because it is far more gratifying and fun to play in a campaign with a very simple plot that keeps you engaged, active and rewarded than playing in an interminably complex plot where you just keep running in circles never reaching a conclusion because you’re either not smart enough to figure out the clues or the DM just hasn’t figured out the end yet.  (I see the latter happen most frequently in White Wolf STs, but that is the subject for a different rant.)

The DMG urges new DMs to start simple and if they and their players want to, they can refine the subtlety and complexity of their plots, as they understand the game and how it is played.  Or don’t – if your players get their jollies by mashing monsters and saving villages from orc hordes, let them!  Follow the basic rules of resolution and reward; and no matter whether your game is about complex political scheming or killing things and taking their stuff, you will be surrounded by a group of your friends who are all having fun and enjoying the game.

And in the end, getting together with friends and having fun is what Dungeons and Dragons is really about, no?

So 4th edition D&D has been out for a while, there’s a steady stream of books out for it, its received quite a bit of acclaim and popularity, and the inevitable question has risen a few times: Why am I not playing it ?

So to address these in a manner that illuminates my playstyle and preferences, something that any gamer could do well thinking about occasionally, here are the reasons I have chosen not to play D&D 4, after giving it a few tests after it came out.

Unlike a lot of people I am not viewing this in comparison to 3.5 (which I hate like the plague) or AD&D or the classic D&D games. I evaluated it in comparison to other fantasy games on my bookshelf, some old (Runequest), some classics with recent editions (GURPS, Warhammer) and some bleeding edge (Burning Wheel, Heroquest, Reign)

1: Classes.

I realize picking on D&D for having character classes is a bit unfair, but it is the nature of the beast. I dont mind having a template that gives me direction when I create the character, but as the game goes on, I want to be free to develop my character in the direction I choose, rather than a pre-determined set of options.

2: Levels

This is the bigger pet peeve. As a player, I find level based advancement absolutely choking. I despise having to wait another 3 sessions to advance my character, as it prevents me from reacting organically to what happens in the game. Whats worse is that a level structure means there is only a finite amount of chances to make those changes. I can endure character classes if they are done in an open and entertaining fashion, but level based play is a killer for me these days

3: Character focus

I am lately finding myself wanting games that put the character to the forefront, their beliefs, their wants, their goals and desires. And to have mechanics that back that up. Burning Wheel, FATE and Heroquest are all good examples of this. D&D has traditionally never done this and the 4th edition is no exception.

There are two views of mechanics and roleplaying. One view is that the mechanics should stay away from the roleplaying, while the other is that the mechanics should support or encourage the roleplaying. D&D falls in the former school for sure. As does a few other games I enjoy, including my beloved Runequest, so its not inherently a killer in itself, but its a factor.

To me, it is completely uninteresting whether your character can swing a sword, hit 2 enemies in one blow and then leap 3 squares. What is interesting is that he has a burning passion for avenging his father, and that passion compels him in the game.

4: Simulation

Rules should simulate reality or setting to a certain extent. With 4th edition, D&D has really moved to the end of the Game axis of the game-simulation graph. This obviously resonates with a lot of people, but it makes the mechanics appear arbitrary and uninsteresting to me. Simulation does not have to entail realism. A superhero game is highly simulationist for example, as is Bunnies&Burrows.

5: Handling time

I was shocked to discover how long 4th edition combats take. I had chalked this up to our inexperience when testing it, but reports from friends and various actual play reports online confirmed that the game is indeed designed to have all combats last around a 1 to 1.5 hour time frame.

I only get to game face-to-face 2-3 times a month, due to work and family constraints, so I can’t in good conscience devote that much time to every single battle we have, unless its an epic conclusion. Rolemaster and GURPS both move faster than this, at an equivalent number of combatants, and with similar amounts of record keeping, and they are both renowned as “crunchy” systems.

6: Cost

I have a reasonable hobby budget, but I prefer spending that on miniatures. There are very few roleplaying games I invest a lot of money in. D&D has a basic start up cost exceeding 100 dollars, simply for the 3 core books to play. If I want a setting to play in, thats another 35 dollars, and this still only gives me a handful of character classes.

Throw in another 35 dollars when we get tired of what was in the players handbook (and an active group will cycle through the 8 or so character classes pretty quickly). This is more than I’ve spent on most of my wargaming armies, and I can’t justify spending that amount of money on a game that I will only play occasionally, at most.

WOTC has set an extremely high cost of entry for their game, which boggles my mind. For the same cost, I can obtain the core books for 3-4 other games, and have a far wider variety of material to play with.

So those 6 reasons comprise my main reasons for passing on this game. I bought 2 of the books, I tested it, I came to realize that it will not fill any lack in what I am looking for in a roleplaying game, and I passed the books on to a friend who will find far more benefit, value and enjoyment in them, than I ever will.

Synopsis

Dungeons & Dragons has long been a game about exploring new places and fighting dangerous monsters. Usually these adventures are set either in an established campaign setting or a home brew world devised by the dungeon master. This variant outlines a method in which both the players and the dungeon master can create a world together, creating a new method for world creation.

Basic Rules

This method of world creation is quite simple; the dungeon master and the characters each take turns naming facts about the world, its geography, its people, its customs, and its legends. Both the dungeon master and the players are encouraged to think creatively and to place locations and legends that they’re interested in exploring and examining. This is a simple process that has only a few basic rules.

• Everything Exists: Any information found in the core rules supplements exists in the world in some fashion. No participant in this process can state a fact or legend that invalidates a choice found in the rules books. The dungeon master and the players should be able to select any rules option in the books in this campaign setting.
• The Basic Premise is True: The basic premise of dungeons & dragons is still intact in this world. Tieflings once hailed from Bael Turath, all of the core deities exist in some fashion, and adventurers still explore dark dungeons and buy magical treasures. While individual facts about the common legends might change, the basic premise cannot be altered with stated facts (though legends can offer different options).
• No Contradictions: Once a participant in the world building process states a fact or legend, nothing can contradict this statement. If a player states that the village of Green Hills exists in the Flowering Valley another player cannot then state that the village doesn’t exist. Once someone states a fact it becomes just that: a fact. You can, however, append additional information to a stated fact. In the above example a player could state that the village of Green Hills is linked to the Feywild and that it only actually appears during the daytime, disappearing at night.
• Beware the Monkey’s Paw: While this is a cooperative world, the GM does hold ultimate power over the setting, mostly in order to ensure that the game is actually a challenge. If you state that the town well holds powerful magical items the DM can alter this fact to ensure that 1st level characters don’t start off with holy avengers. Be careful what you wish for, as the DM can alter facts if they’re clearly placed only to give an unfair advantage to the players.
• Be Cooperative: This is a group exercise and as such try not to rain on someone else’s parade. Work with everyone else at the table to make an enjoyable setting. If someone raises a big objection to one of your facts ask them why they object and consider meeting them halfway. While you have ultimate power on your turn you can and should talk to the other players if there’s some question about your fact or legend.

Building the World

Filling in the map is an easy and enjoyable process. Simply gather your group together, grab a piece of paper, and place a dot somewhere near the middle of the paper. This is the starting village where the characters will begin their adventuring career. You can name it now or leave the name as the first stated fact of the world building process. Then elect one player as the scribe (this is usually the GM). The scribe writes down all the stated facts so that there’s a written record of the world.

There are two smaller parts to the entire world building process. The first part is the phase, which is a broad category of the world building process. The phase determines what kinds of facts and legends each player can state during each round. Each round every player can name one fact or legend for that phase. Most phases consist of two to five rounds before the next phase begins.

Each round every player gets a chance to name a fact or legend appropriate to the phase subject. These statements can either be a simple word or phrase that other players can elaborate on or a one or two sentence statement. Players can make two types of statements.

A fact is something that is completely true (so long as it follows the general rules above). Examples of a fact would be the location of some terrain feature, a general truth about a race, or the name of a place or culture.

A legend is like a fact, save that the details of it can change to fit the story or the needs of the world. Legends can also simply be keywords, adventure ideas, or common beliefs of the world. Unlike facts, legends can be changed by the GM in secret to surprise the players. Examples of legends would be a story that a dungeon exists in the Sunlight Plains, that dragons cannot see people who wear their own color or that when a wizard casts a spell his eyes glow.

The Phases

While there are no hard and fast rules for how many phases are used before play begins or for how many rounds each phase contains, the general outline below will produce a vibrant and adequately detailed region suitable for adventuring.

Phase One: World Myths [2-3 Rounds]
World myths are almost universally legends rather than facts. World Myths tend to include legends about how each race was created, vast world spanning legends, and facts that everyone should know. This phase is intended to get everyone thinking about the broad theme of the world.

Phase Two: The Races [2-4 Rounds]
This phase can contain both facts and legends about equally. This phase allows the players to detail the races and how they might deviate from the core books. This phase is most useful for players who want to come from a unique culture or for players who want to ensure that a race is either common or uncommon.

Phase Three: Local Geography [3-5 Rounds]
In this phase the players begin to fill in the blank map with details about the local geography. Everyone takes turns drawing in terrain features such as mountain ranges, rivers, plains, and other such things. Players can either leave the places unnamed or given them a name that might suggest further facts.

Phase Four: The Village [2-4 Rounds]
In this phase the players begin to name facts and legends about the starting village. These can include the absence or presence of services or people, the local religion, the general feeling of the town, and other such things. This phase can be expanded if the players expect to spend a great deal of time there.

Phase Five: Local Threats & Factions [1-3 Rounds]
Once the world has been filled with a few terrain features and a local village, the players now need to place a few threats and monsters in the area. Threats are generally found in the surrounding terrain while factions are generally reserved for the starting village or for neighboring nations. Players can be quite vague here, leaving a lot of wiggle room for the GM to plan adventure around.

Phase Six: Local Legends [1-3 Rounds]
This phase is entirely limited to legends, not facts. Players should start listing common legends about places, people, and races. These are intended to give the DM ideas for story seeds and adventures, so the more evocative and vague you are the better.

Phase Seven: The World Beyond [2-4 Rounds]
During this phase the players all take turns filling out facts and details about the large world. This can be where the roads lead to, neighboring towns or villages, facts about the local nation, or even the presence of another continent. This is intended to provide locations for further adventures once the local area has been explored.

Phase Eight: Final Details [3-8 Rounds]
This final phase is intended for a catch-all where players can name a few last details about the world. No subject for facts or legends is forbidden and this phase is generally used to flesh out existing facts a bit further.

Bringing it All Together

Once all of the phases have been brought together, the DM should compile all of the information into one easy to read format. This is now the beginning of the campaign world. As play begins the DM and the players can further define the facts during play. Should the characters find themselves lost for something to do they can simple start naming more facts that the DM can use to create further adventures.

When the players finally progress beyond their home region you can go through this process once again to create a new region ripe for exploration. Simply start at phase three for the new area, keeping in mind that previous facts cannot be invalidated. In this way you create the world a little bit at a time.

Final Word

This process is far from the final word on cooperative world building, and indeed it is not even that unique. These are simply my suggestions for the process and you should change them to better suit your own group and play style. Above all remember that building the world should be fun for everyone.

Twofold Adept

I walk the twofold path, balancing and blending many skills into one harmonious and deadly whole.

Prerequisite: Novice Power, Acolyte Power, Adept Power

You have decided to walk the twofold path, focusing not just one your primary class but on your multiclass as well. You have better learned how to use the abilities of your multiclass and have even unlocked the secret of combining the powers of both your classes into one furious assault. You understand better than most that true power comes from versatility.

Twofold Adept Features

Twofold Action (11th level): You can expend an action point to regain the use of a single power you selected with the Novice Power feat instead of taking an extra action.
Twofold Training (11th level): You know one additional at-will power that must be selected from the list of at-will powers available to the class you multiclassed into. In addition, when you retrain the Novice Power, Acolyte Power, and Adept power feats you may choose to replace up to two of your class powers instead of only one.
Twofold Harmony (16th level): You may now use the benefit granted by your class-specific multiclass feat twice as often as normal. For example, a character with the Initiate of the Faith class feature could use the cleric’s healing word power twice per day instead of once per day.

Twofold Adept Powers

New Keyword

Multiclass: Powers with the multiclass keyword are considered to have the same keywords as the power source of your class and of the class you multiclassed into. For example, any power with the multiclass keyword used by a fighter with the Initiate of the Faith feat would have the martial and divine keywords.

I’d like to state that I’ve fallen in love with the Dungeon Tiles from Wizards of the Coast.  While the debate about 4th edition rages on, I feel that this little product line has been sorely neglected.  Let me give you a little rundown of the product, shall I?

For your crisp ten dollar bill (they retail at $9.95) you get one package of dungeon tiles.  They come in (I think) 5 sheets of very thick cardstock (I’m talking maybe 1/10th of an inch thick) that’s been laminated with this very durable and water repellent plastic coating.  They smell a bit funky coming out of the box, but I’ve spilled all manner of salsa and soda on these things and they’ve come out just fine.  In other words, they’re more durable than you really need, even for us messy gamers.

Each of the tiles are doubled sided, which adds a lot of value.  The newest set, Streets of Shadow, has the topside with street scenes and the other side as sewers: a very nice touch.  Other sets aren’t quite that opposite, but all give you a lot of versatility.

Quite frankly, for your $10 you get a massively good deal.  You can’t make a massive dungeon complex all at once with one set, but at that price you can afford to get multiples.  My lovely wife actually got me 5 more sets for my birthday, bless her heart.  With my 8 sets I can more or less make a dungeon so huge that it would take up about 3 of my dining room tables.

Visually they’re very nicely done, which is saying something considering how picky I am about my maps (being a professional and all).  They really add a nice dynamic to the game, helping imaginations come alive (at least in our group).  That right there was well worth my Hamilton.

So, to recap: they’re cheap (good), pretty (very good), and versatile (good).  There’s literally no downside here, unless you somehow think they should be free.  Well, they can slide around if you get overly excitable/clumsy and use a lot of the smaller tiles.  But that’s about it.

To give you an idea of just what you can do with these things, I set up a part of the village that my players had to defend from kobolds.  I must have spent a good 30 minutes finding a good setup, all of which was fun.  As you can see, the end result is rather nice.

Don't worry, the wizard managed to escape the kobolds...

This post is actually in response to a post over at the Tao of D&D (warning, naughty words abound over on that post!).  Within the author makes some good points and then makes a few points that I personally disagree with.  I’m not going to dissect the post or call out quotes; if you’re interested take a read and see what you think yourself.  Instead, I want to offer an opposing viewpoint as to why so many people do enjoy playing heroes in D&D (and other games beside).

I would also like to preface this post with the standard disclaimer that my ideas and words don’t reflect any one true way of playing.  There is no wrong way to play any RPG so long as everyone in the game is having fun and enjoying themselves.  I tend to hammer this point home a lot, but it’s an important one to remember.

To get right to the point, I’ve always greatly enjoyed playing the stalwart defender of innocents and the downtrodden when I bring my dice to the table.  (Yes, I quite like playing Paladins and Superheroes, why do you ask?)  There is something incredibly liberating, fun, and above all hopeful about playing one of the true blue good guys.  Judging by actions and characters of my friends and other gaming groups, I feel that it’s not an uncommon idea, either.  For at least some of us roleplayers, playing the good guy is very much part of the game and part of the fun.

I feel that a big part of the reason is that in this day and age (and in days past, really) there are so many bad things happening in the world that it’s nice to actually help out in a noticable and real (well, pretend real) way.  I feel bad that I can’t help all those people out there suffering by myself, but when I play in our weekly D&D game my character can.

For sure it’s escapism and little more, but deep down within my heart of heats I feel better for having done the imaginary right thing.  Sure, I can volunteer at homeless shelters, I can give money to charity, I can do a lot of things to help people fairly indirectly.  But the results are never immediate or nearly so impressive as those of my alter ego.  I might volunteer my time help the less fortunate, but Sir Boros the Paladin sure helped all those peasants in that village when he stopped the orc invasion.

And isn’t that why we play games in the first place?  To have fun and do something we can’t normally do in real life, to get away from our worries and troubles for just a little while and smile and laugh with our friends?  For me it’s so much less interesting to play the greedy thief who steals from his friends; I see enough of that on television.  Why would I want to play something like that in a game where I can be anything?

Some folks say that good guys are forced to act good or suffer consequences.  Honestly, I think that holds true for every single motivation in the game.  After all, that’s all doing good work or gaining power or gaining treasure really are; character motivations.  Are my games any less valid or less fun simply because my players happen to be motivated by goodwill and heroism rather than gold and raw power?  My players seem to be having a grand old time, doesn’t seem to me like I’ve done anything wrong.

I also think that playing the hero happens to have a rather fun little benefit.  I’ve been a long time player and fan of City of Heroes, and one thing I’ve noticed in that game as opposed to other games is that people are so helpful.  You’ll get guys to drop really tough and challenging missions to help out a new player who just logged in and is clueless.  I’ve done it plenty of times myself.  I think that part of the reason is that it’s so much fun to share in the discovery of some great new game or world (something I want to talk later with a talk on young kids and RPGs) and help others see just how much fun something you love to play can be.

Yet beyond the shared discovery and joy is the simple concept that if you pretend to be a nice guy, it might just rub off.  I’m surely not Sir Boros, but I’d sure like to get that happy feeling that I get when playing him again.  That happy feeling often comes from helping those (perpetually) hapless peasants with thier troubles.  Perhaps if I, myself, were to help someone out just for the good of it I might get that feeling just a little bit myself.

That’s why I truly like playing good guys and playing with others who like playing good guys.  If you pretend to be the hero long enough, it just might rub off on you.

Since Runequester started such a nice little topic, I figured that I’d chime in with my own thoughts and opinions.  In some respects I’m almost the polar opposite of him, far prefering mechanics that fit a specific setting or game than generic or universal mechanics.  To me the rules should support and reinforce the genre or game you’re playing, not function as an all-in-one toolkit.  Plus I want to highlight a very important aspect of roleplaying: there is no one true way to enjoy this hobby.

I fully admit that a large part of why I keep returning to D&D is that it is the teat at which I suckled as a fledgling roleplayer.  It’s a lot like Mom’s home cooking – you were raised on it and it’s comforting.  I think that all of us have that one game we first played and love warts and all precisely because its nostalgic.

Yet that’s not the main reason I return to D&D and similar games.  I love crunchy bits and complex mechanics.  For me there is a great and wondeful game within a game in these systems, namely character creation and getting the most out of what you have.  In short, I love to min-max or powergame my characters a bit.  I’m not one to take it to extremes, but generally I’ll come to the table with a very effective character who tends to excell in one or two areas.  And you know what?  There’s absolutely nothing wrong with that.

For me the game mechanics should wholly support the game and genre that you’re playing and they don’t need to make sense outside of that genre.  I’m not going to use a wrench to hammer in a nail.  Why would I use a genric game to run something very specific.  (Again, this is not to say that generic games are bad.  Far from it.  I just happen to prefer games that fit one style of play).

I also really happen to like highly tactical combat and almost treat fights and conflict as games within a game.  When it comes time to break out the longswords and slaughter me some demons, I don’t much care how much sense my attacks make.  All I care about is killing those demons in a fun, cinematic, and awesome way.  Let me cleave through enemies like Conan or burn them all down like Raistlin.  I’m probably the happiest when I have skulls to bash and loot to earn.

For me, and most of my players, we don’t really care that we can only use some certain power once per day.  It doesn’t matter and in the world we’re currently playing in it makes sense enough, so we let it slide and get on with the combat.  But when combat ends we’re just as easily able to slip into roleplaying, becuase for me when you’re talking and negotiating you don’t need a lot of specific rules.  So in a sense we play two games at once, one a talky roleplaying free form sort of deal and the other a highly tactical and complex wargame using miniatures.

And this is the most beautiful thing about our wonderful hobby.  Both my take and Runequester’s take completely valid, fun, and perfectly reasonable.  That’s what really irks me when someone tells me that I’m playing a game wrong or that a certain system “sucks.”  In roleplaying there are no wrong or bad systems, only systems you don’t happen to enjoy or that don’t work for you.  If you’re having fun and the group is having fun then nothing wrong is happening; you’ve succeeded and you have a wonderful game.

If you really want to have fun roleplaying that’s all you need to know.  Pick a system that works for you and don’t let anyone else dare tell you that you’re doing it wrong.  Just because my mind loves the strange abstractions and finding that extra little +1 bonus to my rolls doesn’t mean that my style is innately inferior or superior to anyone elses.  It’s only different.