In the last year of gaming I managed to run 2 Dungeon Crawl Classics campaigns
(one through Roll20), my first (and unfortunately so far only) 13th Age
campaign, a The One Ring mixed with John Wick’s The Flux and –
finally – a Conan 2d20 game. Now I’m running Mage 20th and D&D
5th, besides keeping my irregular Dungeon Crawl Classic online
table. Considering my scant free time I must admit that that is kind of a
miracle.
So, 2d20. This is an amazing system - for me it is a weird mid-ground
between d20 and FATE (and thus far the one system where I truly LOVE the way
mental/social damage work… Tyrion Lannister would be a completely playable and
lethal PC here). The Conan version of 2d20 is excellent, but it
really needs an official FAQ (and a revision would help too). I heard that the
latest versions of 2d20 - like Star Trek Adventures - are a huge
improvement in the system, showing its strengths.
2d20 in a nutshell is a pool system where you roll a minimum of 2d20
(and a maximum of 5d20) and try to score equal or below your Ability Score +
Skills. The Conan version of the game is really high-powered and most PCs start
with high scores. In fact, in this aspect the RPG is a perfect match to the
genre: you can really create a Conan-like PC from start, one that deals vast
amounts of damage and cleave through minions, beasts and foes. I was really
pleased that the core book offered a less powerful PC option (the ‘Shadows of
the Past’ variant).
The hallmarks of 2d20 for me are the Momentum rule and the Doom Pool.
Extra successes rolled by a PC generate Momentum, which can be spent to improve
a test’s quality, reduce it’s time and other cool stuff. In combat Momentum can
be used to generate additional maneuvers, increase damage, restore stress
damage etc. The best part is that unspent Momentum can be placed in a party
pool and used by other PCs if justified by the narrative. For example: your
valiant aquilonian knight rallies the party (a Command check to generate
Momentum and fill the party pool), so that the cimmerian barbarian PC that goes
next can deal a massive strike against the main enemy. It is really neat.
The Doom Pool is even better! It is a narrative resource used by the
Gamemaster to increase the current challenges and generate new complications
against the party. It is a rule to increase the stakes and the tension at the
right moment of the adventure. A fair warning: the Gamemaster isn’t an enemy of
the players and the Doom Pool shouldn’t be used in that way. I see the Doom
Pool as a resource to strength Howardian themes and tropes during play. Common
uses for the Doom Pool increase a check’s difficulty, bring more enemies
(usually minions), allow the Gamemaster to generate new traps and hazards etc.
The Doom Pool is generated mainly through Complications (for example: rolling a
natural 20), although PCs can buy extra d20s to roll on the their checks by
paying Doom to the Gamemaster. Some monsters create Doom by their mere
presence. There’s really a lot of potential in this mechanic, although I
believe the Conan line could use a revision on the various ways to use
and accumulate Doom (as the various supplements seem to follow slightly
different guidelines).
But this isn’t a review and I have talked enough. Grab the excellent Quickstart and try it out (and if you don’t like
it I recommend that you try the Star Trek or John
Carter versions before
really deciding you don’t like the 2d20 system).
That said… I used Conan 2d20 to run my long-dreamed Black Company/Malazan
Book of the Fallen game. I’m a long fan of both sagas and I quite like using a military
structure to run my RPGs. Belonging to an army, company or mercenary band is a
simple and effective way of explaining why the party adventures together (it
also offers an easy source of new PCs). Another aspect that I’m interested is
in exploring is the “grunt” point of view. I didn't want adventurers, paladins,
high fantasy mages and such concepts at my table. I wanted PCs that didn’t have
a clue about the ways magic and the supernatural work; I wanted to keep both
the PCs and their players in the dark about the magical side of the setting (in
a very Malazan-like fashion). Conan 2d20 allowed me to do that - its
sorcery system is geared toward NPCs and not very player-friendly (and is the
part of the game that REALLY needs an overhaul revision). The Hyborian Age was
also the perfect setting - the party could easily identify themselves with the
tropes and cultures without the need to read anything (and Conan’s own view of
the supernatural, in the novels, is a perfect start).
My small campaign (or its 1st Season at least) was located in Shem, in a
decadent city-state that I created. Because none at my table have ever read The
Black Company or the Malazan novels (heathens!), I stole shamelessly
the Beryl arc from the first Black Company novel. The PCs were the sole
survivors of a doomed mercenary company with a shady past. They arrived in Ashgar
(my not-Beryl) and were promptly recruited by the Red Tigers mercenaries (my
not-Black Company).
Asghar was a shemite city that invaded by Zingaran exiles a century ago.
The Zingaran nobles deposed the local ruling families and took over the city but
were slowly absorbed by the shemite culture. They created oppressive laws to
keep the former nobles out of power (and petty rules to humiliate them; for
example: the old nobles lines couldn’t grow a beard, which is a “right”
reserved only to the Zingaran bloodlines). This of course generated a small
rebellion. Besides, the Zingarans were always fighting among themselves, with
the most hostile faction having converted to the worship of the dreaded shemite
patron god of Ashgar.
The PCs were:
Alexus,
an aquilonian guard and survivor of a black magic ritual, who now worked
with his previous liege (Titus Ritulus, below). The “survivor of a
black magic ritual” bit was generated through Conan 2d20’s cool
lifepath tables.
Breanne
of Cimmeria, a barbarian blacksmith and warrioress, with a criminal past.
Sif,
a lone swordsman (and assassin) from Gunderland, trained by a mysterious
master.
Titus
Rutilus, an exiled aquilonian noble and (perhaps) responsible for the
destruction of the previous mercenary outfit in which the PCs served.
Viccenzo
of Mitra, an itinerant evangelist educated in the opulent courts of Ophir
(and actually zamoran of birth, who runned away from Shadizar due to a
scandalous affair).
After being recruited by the Red Tigers (and in true Malazan fashion)
the PCs were given nicknames (‘soldier names’). The arrogant and ambitious
noble Titus Rutilus became Recruit. Alexus, who had the higher body count in
the party, was named Samaritan. Sif, because of his love affairs with the
company’s witch, became Castrati (he was always deadly afraid of
attracting the attention of other women, because his witch lover was quite
jealous and once killed a desert princess just because she wanted to talk alone
with Sif). Viccenzo and Breanne unfortunately never got nicknames.
The Red Tigers were the bodyguards of the Autarch, the Zingaran ruler of
Asghar. The game was a mix of military missions (invading temples, surviving
ambushes and scouting), skirmishes, intrigue (inside and outside the
company) and black sorcery (the company’s spellcasters were mysterious and
dangerous even to their allies, and there were other sources of magic in
Ashgar).
The 1st Season of the campaign ended with the party leaving Asghar,
after an invasion of Asshuri from Askalon, a disastrous summoning of the god
Anu (or at least his lovecraftian version) and the betrayal of their patron,
the Autarch. To my great delight, the party reached the same conclusion as the
Black Company at the end of the Beryl chapter. The cliffhanger for a 2nd Season
was the Red Tiger were hired by a new and darker patron; while in the novel we
get Soulcatcher, here I used none other than Thoth-Amon himself. We’re having a
break from Sword & Sorcery right now and playing some D&D 5E, but I
hope I can return to this game.
OK… to end this boring post with something (maybe) more useful: House
Rules!
While I love the 2d20 system, I also love to tinker with rules. I used
the ‘Shadows of the Past’ variant character rules to create more mortal PCs
(thus better reflecting the feel of the Black Company). But that wasn’t
enough, so I also used the following:
- Minions
rolled 2d20. In
Conan 2d20, a Minion (a nameless NPC) rolls just 1d20 on his
actions (which means that they fails most actions with Dif 2 and never
pass checks with Dif 3+). Because Minions usually form Mobs, they pool
their d20s and thus are able to pose a (pitiful) threat to PCs. Not here.
I wanted something more gritty. Thus, even a lowly Minion starts with 2d20
in his pool. When Minions forms Mobs, one of them is chosen as its Leader
and follows the normal rules for Mobs with Leaders (a Squad). Ironically,
letting all NPCs start with a base pool of 2d20 was easier for me. This
rule worked perfectly, letting Minions pose a higher threat and
encouraging PCs to fight in Squad mode (which was something I wanted).
- A
New NPC Type: The Horror! Conan
2d20 has 3 types of NPCs - Minions, Toughened and Nemesis. Minions
can’t take Harms (lasting injuries) and have very little stress. Toughened
can take 2 Harms and have more resilience. Nemesis are full-fledged NPCs,
with the same stats and resources of PCs. One of my main criticisms with Conan
2d20 is that monsters (things like frost giants, lovecraftian horrors and
dragons) are “just” Nemesis-level adversaries. A frost giant should wreak
havoc against an entire party of PCs and not be crushed in 2 or 3 rounds.
So I created a new NPC category above Nemesis, the Horror. After a bit of
testing, I established a new mechanical trait for them - the Horror
Threshold. Besides having bigger and inhuman stats, Horrors also have
a special stress threshold that is replenished at the beginning of every
round. The Horror faced by the party was the Black Company’s
forvalaka (a demon were-leopard). For it, I set my Horror Threshold at 5,
with a base difficulty of 1. That means that before the party could
inflict ANY mechanical consequence on the forvalaka, they had to remove
this special stress track of 5 points. What could reduce the forvalaka’s
Horror Threshold? A Command check to strength the party’s spirit against
the demon’s fear aura; a Sorcery check to remember it’s weak spots; a
Melee check to open the creature’s flank for further attacks; etc. After
depleting the Horror Threshold (which fully regenerated EVERY round) the
party could start to inflict normal stress, Harms and other consequences
on the critter. As a side effect of this rule, the forvalaka could only be
fought with Squads (exactly like the novel) and with the party working as
a coordinated group. It worked rather nicely at the table.
I also tried other house rules, but the two above are the ones I’ll most
certainly keep in the future. Please note that the Horror Threshold rule
should be tailored and customized to reflect each Horror faced by the party.
At the end of my campaign, I was working in a major rules revision to
the system with a fellow Gamemaster (who has a greater understanding of 2d20) -
basically, we’re trying to make 2d20 a “pure” d20 system and get rid of those
d6s. The official rules uses d6s to generate damage - 1 or 2 are read normally,
3 and 4 are ‘zeros’, 5 and 6 are ‘1 + Effect’. We don’t like very much how the
d6s work (the ‘whiff factor’ is too high for our tastes and in our experience the
act of rolling a different set of dice, with different rules, was breaking the
game’s pace). But I will leave that for another post.
