Exceptional Ability Scores for AD&D 2E

Exceptional Strength is one of those iconic rules of D&D. I thought that it was something created for AD&D 1E, but I discovered that it first showed up on OD&D Greyhawk. Basically, if you are a Fighter (Warrior Group in AD&D2E) and you have Strength 18, you can roll 1d100 to access a special chart with additional progressions for to hit, damage, encumbrance and feats of might stuff.

 

The idea behind Exceptional Strength is beautiful: Warriors can achieve degrees of strength unreachable by other classes. The execution of that idea: sorry Gygax, but quite “meh”.  C’mon: if you are rolling 3d6 in order (like we are), the chances of getting a 18 are – I think – lower than 1%. To create a class feature that less than 1% of its members can use sounds absurd (but 100% pure Gygaxian I guess). No wonders basically ALL Fighters in the 90s had Strength 18 on the Brazilian groups that I frequented.

 

In other words, I would love to keep Exceptional Strength in my AD&D 2E game, but I wanted to de-couple it from Strength 18. Thankfully, the fine gentlemen of the Dragonsfoot forums went ahead and did all the work.

 

So, basically, in my current campaign, ALL Warriors (usually Fighters, Rangers and Paladins… but I might also add Barbarians) have Exceptional Strength, no matter their true Strength Ability Score (which, following AD&D 2E rules, must be 9+ if you are a Fighter).

 

Here is the EXCEPTIONAL STRENGTH table (again, inspired by Dragonsfoot):

 

Exceptional Strength	Hit Probability	Damage	Weight Allowance	Maximum Press	Open Doors	Bend Bars/Lift Gates
0-50	+0	+1	+25	+25	+1	+4
51-75	+1	+1	+50	+50	+2	+9
76-90	+1	+2	+75	+75	+3	+14
91-99	+1	+3	+125	+125	+4(3)	+19
00	+2	+4	+225	+225	+5(6)	+24

I really liked this approach, and my table so far has enjoyed it too.

 

But that opened new questions for me.

 

AD&D 2E mentions that Halflings can never have Exceptional Strength, even if they rolled 18. While, on one side, I love the byzantine requirements and restrictions of AD&D 2E, I also like to provide alternatives. So, if you are a Halfling Warrior, you still can’t have Exceptional Strength, but you can have Exceptional Dexterity or Exceptional Constitution (other Warriors can choose freely).

 

Here is my first take on EXCEPTIONAL DEXTERITY (it is still under playtesting, as just one player has used it so far): 

Exceptional Dexterity	Reaction Adj.	Missile Att. Adj.	AC Adj.	Saving Throws Adj.	Special
0-50	+1	+0	+0	+1	+1 ranged dmg*
51-75	+1	+1	+0	+1	+1 ranged dmg, +1 AC vs ranged att
76-90	+1	+1	+1	+1	+2 ranged dmg, +1 AC vs ranged att
91-99	+2	+1	+1	+2	+2 ranged dmg, +2 called shots, +2 AC vs ranged att
00	+2	+1	+1	+2	+2 called shots, +2 ranged dmg +2 AC vs ranged att, +1 RoF

  *DM can rule that this damage operates under the same limitations of backstab and critical hits (i.e., if a creature has no discernible anatomy and is immune to backstabs/critical hits, then it should be immune to this precision damage too). However, DMs using Combat & Tactics are welcome to ignore this if the player provide a proper justification and, for example, ask for a called shot (after all, a magic arrow in a vampire’s eye might hurt more).

Here is EXTRAORDINARY CONSTITUTION (no one has used it yet). And this one requires some explanation.

 

Hit Point Adjustment, System Shock, Resurrection Survival and Regeneration: those stay as they are. I don’t want to inflate AD&D 2E’s hit points (and I like how Warriors gain extra hit points on 17) . Also, both System Shock and Resurrection Survival are already clearly bounded in the 1-25 scale.

 

Poison Save: as in the current table.

 

Disease and Fatigue Save: same logic as Poison Save but applying to these categories.

 

Resist Lethal Wound: the most radical departure. This presupposes that you’re using the Hovering at the Death’s Door (from the Dungeon Master’s Guide). Basically, you can keep fighting at that amount of hit points, but you must make a System Shock roll after your action or suffer 1d6 points of damage due to exertion.

 

Exceptional Constitution	Poison Save	Disease Save	Fatigue Save	Resist Lethal Wounds	Special
0-50	+0	+1	+2	-	Flesh Wound: Recover 1 hps after an encounter if you lost hps in that encounter.
51-75	+1	+2	+2	0 hit point	As above, but it is 2 hps.
76-90	+2	+2	+3	-1 hit point	As above, but it is 3 hps.
91-99	+2	+3	+3	-2 hit point	As above, but it is 4 hps.
00	+3	+3	+3	-3 hit point	As above. 1/day you can make one saving throw vs death to negate one critical hit, one energy drain attack or to reduce to half an attack that doesn’t allow a saving throw.

 

And YES! Tinkering with rules above, made me want to create Exceptional Intelligence, Exceptional Wisdom, and Exceptional Charisma. I’m ironically aware that I might be going “full Hackmaster”. But let us leave that for another post 😊

Back to the 90s…

Say 'Cheese!'

 

Short (and Optional) Real-Life Disclaimer: This blog isn’t the place for my life melodrama but, that said, the last years have been hard through all fronts – financially, professionally, emotionally, socially, health… the dread list goes on. That is one of the reasons why I couldn’t keep up this blog with the regularity that I originally envisioned. To keep my sanity, I focused on the one RPG table that, for the last 15 years, has never let me down. I was not disappointed. I was surprised when they asked, 4 years ago, to start an AD&D 2E game but I didn’t hesitate. These guys are my “DM compass”. If they say they want AD&D 2E, there must be a reason. We are now almost 70 sessions later and I have never produced so much content and sessions reports in my life (almost 500 pages!). Let’s see if I can use some of that on this blog (and see if you are interested in AD&D 2E as well).

AD&D 2E Forgotten Realms (post Avatar War) was our “to go game” in the 90s (it was the first TSR setting translated in Brazil). Of course, we found AD&D 2E rules and subsystems confusing. We kept forgetting half of them and never using the other half (and probably what we used, we used it wrong). We rolled stats with such crazy and generous rules that “Strength 18/00” was a common presence at the table. Hit points were always maxed at first, if not increased. We never got why AD&D 2E had so many limitations, so we ignored a ton of requirements. We overused, of course, the most broken class/kit combos and loved it (Hello Specialist Priests!). We still told ourselves that we were playing “official content”, which was not technically true (we did use a ton of house rules that were common in the 90s’ Brazilian RPG zeitgeist… changing stuff like energy drain for example). Those were the golden years. We were all young and foolish (now just foolish), but it was a heck of fun! I think I stop running AD&D 2E around 1999 (because of 3^rd Edition) and yes, I regret dropping that game just because a new one had come up (a common sin among RPG players).

Now, the funny thing is that some players of my current table are old friends (from our 90s’ tables). In the first half of 2022, out of the blue, they pitched me the idea of going back to AD&D 2E. Everyone was instantly excited. My counterproposal: this time, for fun, let’s try it by the rules (not RAW, there is no RAW RPG in my opinion, each table slightly/slowly shapes the system to their style). For me, “by the rules”, meant that we were going to use all the limitations/requirements, subsystems and weird rules (if possible, at the same time, like using both Secondary Skills and Proficiencies). That would be a feature, not a bug. And we used basically everything: Reaction Rolls, NPC Morale, Death’s Door, Individualized XP per class etc. On the XP side, we added that any treasure acquired in the adventure and spent in civilization would give the PC 1 XP/GP… this finally made the XP charts of AD&D 2E make sense (in the 90s, we usually got “stuck” on levels 4-6 and never got enough XP to advance further, forcing the DM to grant us “XP bonuses”). Now, I never felt the need to do that. This rule also encouraged PCs to carouse, lead lavish lifestyles, build stuff etc. It enriched our downtime between adventures.

Yes, we rolled 3d6 in order. No, no one rolled an eligible Paladin PC yet, we barely rolled 1-2 potential Rangers. This actually generated parties that really reflected the “inner logic” of AD&D 2E worlds: tons of Warriors and Rogues, a Wizard here and there, a few Priests. YES, we rolled hit points! One thief with 1 hit point at 1^st level survived to the 5^th level… with 5 hit points! His epithet is “The Immortal”. Having played a ton of DCCRPG before we now embraced “suboptimal” and “weak” PCs and they shined! (Recently, a Priest with really low stats just reached 10^th level!)

After some 33-34 years as a DM, I approached AD&D 2E with maturity and the insights of the OSR, FKR, and other amazing game design (such as the games created by John Harper). No, I didn’t change any rules (not at first), but I let players' description of their actions ("player skill" as we say in the OSR) influence when the dice were rolled. However, once rolled, the bones were the rulers of Fate! Particularly for things like Secondary Skills, Non-weapon Proficiencies (NWPs), ability score checks (and the myriad sub checks in each score) and Thieves Skills, I would often remove the need of a roll if a player prepared carefully and described well their approach. I was inspired by the original rule advice to NWPs in Oriental Adventures 1E: proficiencies are only rolled under extreme circumstances, otherwise you are a professional.

Soon, I started a ruling that, when PCs had to roll under their Thieves Skills (I mean, if they HAD to roll), I would often ask first for them to roll under an ability score (often with penalties) and try to reach as high as possible without going over their stat (blackjack-like mechanic). If they failed, THEN they would roll the pertinent Thief Skill. This made those low percentages make sense for us. And – again, I must stress – ONLY when needed: if the Thief was in a dark cave, with plenty of time, without encumbrance etc... yeah, they CAN Move Silently and Hide in Shadows without rolling (AD&D 2E already has a wonderful precedent for that through the “racial stealth” ability of Elves and Halflings).

Focusing on describing your actions and rolling only when nothing else worked brought all the AD&D 2E crazy (and contradictory) subsystems to life! Rolling 3d6 in order made bonuses rare, which made total sense in AD&D 2E (Str 18/00 caps at +3 to hit and +6 to damage, this system was not made to have those crazy high modifiers of my youth – or of D&D 3th+ editions). The result was impressive for me: the table completely focused on the narrative, checking their character sheet 90% for equipment, and deeply invested in tactics (combat is deadly lethal in pre-3^rd D&D editions as most of you know). Rogues stole the spotlight beautifully, while still being the weakest characters in combat and resistance. Warriors were ESSENTIAL to keep the party alive. Clerics could handle themselves, but both they and Wizards are extremely fragile when spellcasting. Remember, this is AD&D 2E spellcasting: no moving, full concentration, even 1 damage is goodbye to your memorized spell, and you must DECLARE before rolling initiative that you are going to spellcast… what a beautiful risk if you don’t have a meat shield (a.k.a. as Warriors) to protect you. The tactics required were super fun for us! (And, yes, hirelings ARE A MUST!)

Having the experience to use all the subsystems and crazy tables to enrich the game instead of containing it was awesome, but I did add one house rule since the start: Open Saves.

AD&D 2E was the last edition to use the “arcane” and original Saving Throw categories of D&D (okay, a bit changed). I HATED Saving Throw in the 90s, as I could never understand or make sense of each category. Today? I find them quite charming. More importantly, after having read the original D&D and Chainmail, I think I finally get the purpose of Saving Throws: from a wargame perspective, they are a rule applied exclusively to elite (often solo) units, to allow them a chance to avoid death and stay in battle. In other words, they are a “second chance” when everything else has gone wrong.

I really want to bring that principle back, so I proposed the mechanics/ruling/weirdness that I call Open Saves.

Basically, any PC (and only PCs) can negotiate an Open Save with the DM as a reaction to an event in the narrative (a trigger if you like). For example, let’s say that your Fighter missed his charge (the attack roll) against an ogre. The player can request an Open Save. All Open Saves have costs and risks. The player promptly offers the cost: my spear will break. The risk? If he fails the Open Save, the ogre gets an attack of opportunity against them. If the DM agrees, they select a Saving Throw category (let’s use Rod, Staff or Wand). If the Fighter succeeds, his spear breaks but he hits the ogre. If he fails, the loses his spear and is about to be smashed. If the trigger is something that involves already a saving throw, then the Open Save must take that into account. For example, a Cleric is hit by a fireball and the DM asks for a normal saving throw. The player calls for an Open Save, describing how they raise their shield to protect themselves. Originally, a save against fireball is that you reduce damage by half if you succeed. The player wants to reduce damage to zero and proposes losing their shield (cost) and having their arm crippled if their fail (risk). The DM deems the cost too low for the benefit but accepts the risk. After some back-and-forth, the Cleric reframe the description as they desperately call for divine intervention, raising their shield. The cost now is the shield plus one random memorized spell. The DM loves it and asks for a saving throw against Breath Weapon. (If you ever read/played RPGs like Blades in the Dark, that deal with Position/Impact, this is the same idea. NeoclassicalGeek Revival approaches saves in general with the same open-mindness regarding negotiation between DM and player.)

I hope in the following months to share with you the stuff that I created for my AD&D 2E campaign: races, classes, kits, spells etc. (and the crazy rulings and house rules that we developed). We added considerable content from Dragon Magazines, the Complete Handbook series, Player’s Options* etc. (and even stuff from AD&D 1E, D&D BECMI and other previous editions). The campaign right now has PCs that have ventured through the Dalelands, Waterdeep, the Abyss, Elysium, Sigil, the Outlands… even the past during the glory of Netheril. And we still have a long way to go!

Fight on!

*But not the new “sub-Ability Scores” of Skills & Magic, there are limits to my madness.

We were young and foolish... it was fucking awesome!

On Magic, Corruption, and Risks…

A lot of RPGs sell their magic systems with catchphrases such as power, corruption, madness, and chaos. It all goes back to the fiction that informs those games. From mythologies, folklore, and classics to more recent fantasy literature, magic is often portrayed as something that taints the caster’s soul, it is beyond their control, and ultimately brings about their doom. Magic always demands a price.

You don’t need to go far to find RPGs that try to emulate that. There is one of my all-time favourites, Warhammer Fantasy, where usually you can decide to push for more mojo when spellcasting at the cost of triggering all sorts of unpredictable results (including the classic trope “demon shows up and drags the screaming wizard into Hell”). Most RPG systems that try to mimic this trope do so through rolls that trigger a host of unpleasant (and sometimes) lethal effects. Again, Warhammer Fantasy is (in)famous for its Chaos Tables, where spellcasters gain mutations and madness. GURPS has it backlash table. MERP used a system where spellcasting would bring the attention of the Enemy, triggering extra encounters (the same principle guides the “Eye of Sauron” rules of The Rong Ring today). Mage, the Ascension, a more narrative system, had all sorts of consequences available on its Paradox subsystems (mutations, madness, exile etc.). Call of Cthulhu, of course, drives its casters insane. 7th Sea (particularly the 1st Edition) has some VERY risky magic systems built upon narrative constraints (Porté, for example, will LITERALLY kill the caster if they merely open their eyes while teleporting). Riddle of Steel has magic that would age the caster. Star Wars has corruption rules (the Dark Side) for Force users. Ad infinitum.

It is ironic that the gorilla in the corner of the RPG market – D&D – rarely if ever bothered with the trope. Most D&D campaign settings do not even care to explain magic at all. The d20 boom that started with the 3rd Edition opened the chance for others to publish their own “not-D&D” games and we got A LOT of good systems for dangerous magic – such as draining magic in Midnight or the healing magic rules in Iron Kingdoms. Even the OSR took plenty of chances at it, with my favourite risk system being the one in the GLOG (where wizards are eternally under threat by the Three Dooms of their schools). One of my other favourite games – DCCRPG – has the entire menu thing built on it: spellcasting can cause mutations, destruction, insanity, kill the spellcaster, drag them to hell etc. Spellcasting duels can rip holes in reality and cause all kinds of mayhem. In fact, from the top of my head, DCCRPG spellcasters (particularly Wizards and Elves) are some of the most unpredictable characters on any RPG table (yes, that is a compliment).

Going back to D&D, it is fair to say that sometimes they tried to incorporate their (at first rather bland) magic mechanics into settings or even add some cost or risk. I have fond memories of Dragonlance setting and fiction really showing a world where D&D magic rules impacted society, particularly during the AD&D 1st and 2nd eras (the Orders of High Sorcery and their trials were a nice touch to the idea of “cost” to arcane magic in D&D). Eberron did the same for the 3rd edition with its “magic economy” – it built a setting where all those shenanigans made some sense. There are even some rare exceptions where D&D did try to run its own version of “magic as dangerous and corruptive”. They are also some of the best worlds for many fans – such as Dark Sun and Ravenloft (I am pretty sure the AD&D Player’s Option series and the Dragon Magazines can offer more examples).

I’m probably forgetting a lot of other games here and I apologize beforehand for that. However, I hope I gave you some context.

That said, I believe there is a certain confusion with all the approaches mentioned above. They mix two completely different themes – at least in my head – Risk and Corruption.

Risky magic is when it is totally or partially beyond the caster’s control. Often this is used through some sort of randomizer. The basic examples are magic systems where a bad roll (i.e. a fumble or critical failure) triggers (1) unwanted consequence or (2) some cost. The first option usually results in the spell changing some of its parameters (e.g., targeting different people, or maybe even doing something completely new… the latter usually by checking a table). The second aspect is often damage or some loss of resources (from the spell itself to other spellcasting capacities). Some RPGs impose permanent costs or limitations on its spellcasters – taboos, vulnerabilities, physical changes etc. Reign 1st offered some of the most interesting for their casters (I still have to check the 2nd Edition).

In my head, 99% of RPG magic systems that claim that magic is “dangerous and corruptive” are actually just talking about Risky Magic. Yes, Warhammer Fantasy is 100% here. Basically, these systems – to different degrees – insert random consequences and costs every time a PC tries to use their koolz powers. I loved those systems to death because in my head magic without any consequences (be it narrative or mechanic) is just superpowers with a different nametag. For me, magic requires a cost. It needs to have narrative or mechanic “teeth”. You can, of course, implement this approach to the degree that you (and your table) like. Some truly appreciate the danger with EVERY roll when magic is involved. Others prefer that a certain degree of agency be maintained for their spellcasters. Usually, the latter can be accomplished through options to cast safely or to channel more power, pushing the caster’s luck, or accepting some “Devil’s Bargain” mechanic. I’m fine with the spectrum, as long it helps the table to have fun and keeps magic, well, “magic” (that ‘je ne sais quoi’ that is essential for the flavour in some settings).

And before someone complains that they don’t see any problem with magic as superpowers… well, yes, you can have that, but – for everyone’s sake – just be CLEAR about it. There are VERY GOOD examples of magic as just cool extra powers, but you have to present them clearly, get everyone on board, and modulate your game’s fiction to support it (i.e., it must make sense). Otherwise, you will run into the “everyone must be a Jedi” problem (you can change it to “everyone must be an Elemental Bender”, “everyone must be a mage” etc.). Basically, if there are ZERO costs to magic, and if magic can accomplish a lot, then why isn’t EVERYONE in the party a mage? [There are some narrative and mechanical solutions for that question, but that is beyond this post. Some RPGs do it very well, such as 13th Age, FATE, and Avatar Legends for that matter. Some fiction remains fantastic even when using that trope and they are AWSOME, such as a good chunk of Sanderson’s Cosmere.]

Going back to magic. So, there is Risky Magic. What most RPGs call “magical corruption” is basically another way of saying that casting too much magic in those systems will fill your PC with weird physical and mental conditions, if it doesn’t kill you outright. Just that.

Do you truly want the trope of Magic as Corruption? Well, that one is harder. In my opinion, it is also a lot rare in RPGs. I normally identify two reasons for that.

The first one is about tone, limits, and common sense. When we are saying that magic corrupts your PC’s soul, we are basically stating that using magic is going to make you do a lot of awful or very dark shit. This can be off-limits for most tables (and I agree with that). Of course, if your table REALLY likes this trope, you are all adults and you know each other well enough to craft a good story (usually a tragic, dark, and very horror-based one) then by all means: give it a shot. But it is a balancing act. It is like enjoying (good) horror media: you have to be aware of boundaries, agency, and the self-awareness that you are creating/consuming this creative media for all to enjoy. Some RPGs did take that road. Most often, they present Magic as Corruption through narrative elements. A good example is magic rituals where the requirements of the spell are themselves horrific or the kind of thing that would give most people pause. Kult is a RPG that is famous for suggesting that kind of thing (although not to the degree that you would imagine… it is more of a reputation than a fact I would say). The OSR sourcebook Carcosa went in that direction by being very direct with its (otherwise d20-like) magic: all its summoning and spells require (a lot of) human sacrifice. There is no way around it. The games don’t glorify this element (thankfully) and it is quite clear on stating that sorcery is really bad and fucked-up.

The second reason why Magic as Corruption is so rare is that is a lot more challenging to provide mechanics for it. Yes, you can simply remove PC agency and make them do horrible stuff, but that is VERY boring. You have to preserve agency to the degree that, once shit hits the fan, the PC is aware that “Oh fuck! I did it”, instead of blaming this on the Dice Gods. Thus, the best corruption systems that try to tackle this used temptation as a hook to catch the player. Some really cool subsystems that can work as a template for Magic as Corruption can be found, for example, in Vampire: the Requiem and Werewolf: the Forsaken, particularly their Storyteller Handbooks and 2nd Editions. For example, pay attention to subsystems that require your PCs to keep human contacts to retain their sanity.

Now, you don’t have to go down such a dark road for Magic as Corruption. There are very simple ideas used in some RPGs that also work very well. Do you want one such example? Dark Sun, particularly the original AD&D 2nd edition. Wizards in Dark Sun can practice Preserving or Defiling magic. In this setting, magic drains life. If you channel it, life around you starts dying, usually starting with plants and small animals. There are ways to avoid the worst of it – Preserving – but the best mojo (i.e. the quicker and more powerful spells) are all based on Defiling – on sucking as much energy as often as possible. There you have it: a simple but awesome Magic as Corruption system principle. Yes, you can cast all the fireballs you want, but that will kill all the forest and fields around you… and also maybe deal some damage to your friends. So, what do you do? Again, the key in my opinion is to tempt the player with interesting mechanical options. THIS is Magic as Corruption at its core. You give the PC a choice, and you see they start to try to justify the lesser of two evils. The rest is for the table to enjoy. (Magic as Corruption in this case is also one of the “safest” to try at the table because it avoids the darker themes that we mentioned above).

On the top of my head, another awesome example was blood magic (maho) in Legend of the Five Rings 1st Edition: ANY character could plead with dark spirits to learn it, and once learned – oh boy – those spells were useful. But then, L5R triggered a set of corruption rules that were interestingly connected with the setting lore. It was almost like a death spiral. Too much corruption would eventually turn your PC into a monster (but not immediately). Meanwhile, everything in the setting would see you as a monster and try to kill you (even if you acted as a moral paladin). So, to defend yourself, you would probably use more dark magic. Brilliant!

One final example is Star Wars d6 (you know, the best one 😉), where any Force-sensitive character can immediately gain a Dark Side Point if they use their powers in anger. The death spiral here was a LOT faster… but that 1^st Dark Side Point was “safe” to acquire. The consequence? Most Force users in my campaigns were “tainted”. They took a bite of the Dark and created wonderful narrative consequences to explore (besides the temptation of getting that 2nd Dark Side point… after all, the chances of falling to the Dark Side were “just” 16.66%).

Adding Magic as Corruption to your table (some very simple ideas):

So, my young padawan, do you want a feel of the Dark Side? Well, here are some very basic ideas. I hope they can spice your games (but talk with your players about this before starting on this road).

Side Commentary: This entire post was inspired by the idea of introducing what I like to call “creepypasta” lore or macabre secrets to an otherwise “normal” d20 game. The kind of stuff that would tempt people (and perhaps PCs) to do horrible stuff and then deal with that. That post is still coming, my loves. Wait for it!

DCCRPG: You already have all the tools you need here. Just introduce one simple enemy NPC who uses living defenceless victims to use Spellburn instead of damaging his own Ability Scores. LET THE PC SPELLCASTERS see the villain doing that. Let them know it is possible. This is the oldest evil magic trope: using sacrifices to power magic. However, when they decide to do that, instead of dealing ability damage (NPCs don’t have Ability Scores), explain that they are dealing damage and gaining 1 point of Spellburn per hit point (the victim must be either willingly or defenceless). If you want, go ahead and also add an element of risk: the PC can’t fine-tune the Spellburn (personally, I hate the fact that PCs can choose precisely how many points of Ability they lose for Spellburn). So, for this evil version, they must choose a weapon and roll damage (such as 1d4 for a dagger). The Judge is free to decide on a die for unusual circumstances (such as 1d3 per minute when bleeding a victim). The PCs don’t know how many hit points an NPC has (most 0-level people have 1d4 hit points). Better yet, the Judge should let the damage die explode. So, if you used a dagger (1d4) and rolled a 4, reroll and keep adding until reducing the NPC to 0 hit points (i.e. killing them). Keep tabs on who the PC kill. Potential consequences: shift their alignment to Chaos, consider them un-holy for most of the setting’s religions (at least those from Law and the Balance), and, finally, revenge! Did they sacrifice a poor gongfarmer? The dude has a big family, full of cousins, all hellbent on revenge! Or maybe they killed a thief with a pious sister who convinced a knight to create a band of inquisitors to go after the “devil magician” (i.e. the PC). Did they sacrifice a monster? Same principle: that beastmen was a member of a tribe! Don’t forget to make evil demon Patrons appear and offer to recruit the PC (asking them to do worse stuff and getting MORE enemies). Finally, remember that sacrifices in some cases CAN and SHOULD return as vengeful un-deads (or at least curse their killers). Watch how long the PC can go and have fun.

D&D B/X and its retroclones: use the Preserving/Defile idea of Dark Sun. Magic drains life. If the PC is using the Preserving, follow the normal spellcaster rules. If they decide to use Defiling magic, let the PC make a saving throw after casting. If they succeed, they don’t lose the spell. What are the consequences of Defiling? The original rules were complex, so here is my take: Defiling magic destroys all normal plant life in a 10’ ft radius per spell level. All plant life decays into ashes, and NOTHING grows there for one year (trees might die but still stand as dead husks). If more Defiling is cast within the span of 1 turn (10 minutes), add all the spell levels cast and DOUBLE the range of the damage. If there is no plant life in range, then all creatures (and plant creatures) within the 10 ft. radius suffer intense pain. More importantly, creatures with the same amount of HD as the spellcaster or less (or 0-level ones) suffer 1 point of damage per spell level (no save). Yes, this includes allies. Elves and druids consider Defiling a capital crime. Most religions concerned with life and nature won’t help, heal, or assist Defilers. Paladins will hunt them down, killing them ON SIGHT. The GM is encouraged to leave some mark on Defilers. Ideas: they smell of ashes or leave ashes in any place they stay too long, or maybe their hands start getting darker (as if burned) the more they use Defiling.

Knockback rules from TOR 1st to d20 games

Quick post!

I’ve been running the One Ring 1^st Edition for almost 2 years now. The campaign so far is a mix of Gareth Hanrahan’s amazing Darkening of the Mirkwood campaign with (also his) Tales from the Wilderland’s six scenarios. The combination (of course) is natural and the campaign already captivated my players.

Anyway, this post is just to share the one rule from The One Ring 1st that both I and my players keep forgetting but which I believe would be a cool addition to any d20 Fantasy game -  D&D, 13^th Age, Pathfinder, OSE, B/X whatever – the Knockback rule.

Basically, when you’re hit you can choose to lose your next action and fall prone to reduce all damage just taken by half (rounding up).

Would this work smoothly on B/X, DCC RPG, OSE, and older versions of the game (even D&D 3^rd)?

Definitely yes!

What that also works on 13^th Age, Pathfinder 2E, D&D 5E? Well, despite loving those systems, I haven’t narrated them much so…

13^th Age – OK, as far as I’m aware there is no prone condition here. So, my first reaction would be that if any PC invoked the Knockback rule, the Escalation Die doesn’t go up that round (unless if stolen by the enemies).

Pathfinder 2E – Invoking the Knockback rule requires spending 1 Hero Point.

D&D 5E – Besides all the usual disadvantages (no pun intended) that you have for being Prone, AFTER you get up, you will have Disadvantage until the end of your next turn.

The Peril Die

My AD&D 2nd game hit an interesting point (and challenge), which I imagine could be common to a lot of other tables: basically, my game schedule became a mess very quickly and, as a result, our usual weekly sessions suddenly became monthly (if that). Besides the obvious problem of playing less RPG we had a more pressing issue: in our current game, most of the party’s resources were already spent and they were deep into a long combat against drows and their minions, at the last rooms of the dungeon. To further complicate matters, one of the player’s main characters was down and was being carried by hirelings (we are using the Dungeon Master’s Guide’s Hovering at Death Door rule, so PCs brought below 1 hp but not killed are incapacitated for 24 hours).

Now, imagine yourself stuck in the above situation for three months in real-time (as our sessions also became shorter). It is sometimes hard to get excited with a game if your character is so limited. As a DM, one of my main concerns is usually with pace. That said, I am very lucky that my current table is not only mature but also transparent and open to conversation (we just want to have fun). I noticed that, in the last weeks, the players were discussing in our online chat about optional rules and ways to regain spells or abilities that were lost “back in September”. I didn’t want to change the rules of the campaign – especially in the middle of combat – but I must be honest that I also felt that the table’s concerns were valid. They were, after all, stuck in the same place for a long time due solely to their DM’s crazy real-life issues. Because my own time was preciously short, I didn’t have the chance to come up with other solutions: such as introducing potential hirelings and NPCs to be controlled by the party.

So, I invented a special ruling to close that dungeon: the Peril Die. It worked wonders and our last game session (which was thankfully 3 hours long) allowed the party to end the combat, advance 3-4 rooms, two more encounters, and “finish” the dungeon! (Of course, now they must get back with a lot of loot, prisoners, rescued allies etc.).

The Peril Die is a metagame mechanic so many of you might prefer to avoid it. I created it to allow players to use a “recharge” mechanic mixed with some risks (and fun for me as a DM). It can be used in basically any Old School game, including DCC RPG. I would even use it in non-Old School games, like D&D 3rd and 5th, or Pathfinder 1st, but I would hesitate to employ it in more procedural games such as 13th Age, Fantasy Craft, Pathfinder 2E etc. (including a few Old School ones, such as Errant).

The Peril Die is a table resource that can be used by any player. If you are using it for just one session, I would start with a d6 (but I used a d8 and it worked fine). I suggest placing a big physical die in the middle of the table. Any player can pick it up and declare some event, usually restricted to recovering a resource for their character. The declaration must make narrative sense. So, for example, a cleric can declare “When my Deity sees my facing the vile drows, She fills me with holy might, and I recover my spiritual weapon spell”, or a fighter might say “When my ally falls, I am suddenly filled with rage and I can roll 1HD to recover hit points”. After the declaration, the entire table (including the DM) must discuss and decide – unanimously – to accept it. If anyone complains, the Peril Die remains in the centre of the table. If everyone agrees about the declaration and the mechanical benefit, the character gains that boon automatically. Then, the player who made the declaration must roll the Peril Die. If the numbers 1 or 2 come up, something bad happens. Otherwise, the Peril Die becomes smaller (i.e. like a Usage Die, changing from d6 to a d4 for example).

I usually follow this die chain: d8 -> d6 -> d4 -> d3

What is the “something bad”? Well, it depends. Here are some loose rulings.

First: the DM is the sole arbiter of what happens.

Second: the bad stuff should be somehow proportional to the boon received by the player. For example: an extra cleric spell? Nice, the enemy also recovers a spell (or a normal monster now gains a spell from a rival deity). Is the fighter regaining 1HD of hit points? That might mean that a monster also heals or that an extra monster appears (perhaps with 1-2HD in this case).

Third: the DM decides when the bad stuff happens (and yes, he can accumulate bad stuff as I did).

The Peril Die allowed my players to regain some agency over their (very) battered characters. It also allowed me to leave the adventure more dynamic. Finally, it made everyone have more fun at our last game. I am still thinking if I am going to use it sporadically or as a new constant house rule (there is, of course, a chance of power creep behind the mechanic but I am fine with that).

The Invisible Blade, a Fighter Kit for AD&D 2nd

The Invisible Blade prestige class first showed up on the Dragon Magazine #303 and later was updated to the Complete Warrior sourcebook for D&D 3.5. However, my favourite version remained the one designed by the author - Kolja Raven-Liquette – on his website (which is no longer available, unfortunately). The entire idea of a warrior specialized with daggers or knives is an awesome concept that I always wanted to use in my D&D games.

Oh, the crazy days of 3.5... call it a guilty pleasure but I miss them.

Almost 2 years ago, my table decided to return to an AD&D 2nd RAW game. We started the adventure within the Forgotten Realms Revised Boxed Set – Beneath the Twisted Tower. We just finished that adventure last Sunday and the campaign so far has been a blast. While we started with the intent of playing RAW that didn’t last long (which I find completely natural in RPGs). However, we were very specific with some rules. In particular, we always rolled 3d6 in order. As a result, most characters didn’t have attribute bonuses to their PCs. One player in particular decided to create a half-elf fighter and, after some reading, decided that the best option for his character would be to specialize in daggers. After 3 levels of grueling dungeon-crawl, his dagger-throwing and dual-wielding fighter was doing considerable damage. By that time we started slowly incorporating rules form the Complete Fighter’s Handbook and Combat & Tactics and soon we realized that daggers have lost their mechanical potential (in part because we also used a variant Extraordinary Strength rule from the Dragonsfoot forum designed by the user Matthew-). While I love all the many rules and options of AD&D 2nd, I also must admit that the original system (just from the Core Books) is a lot more simple and deadly than I imagined. I loved it, particularly how bonus to attack, damage, and AC are all very rare if you roll straight 3d6 in order. It is a very different way of playing AD&D for me (because when we were younger we would always roll a bunch of uber-powerful PCs). I will keep AD&D 2nd in mind for more minimal and bonus-avert games in the future. It is in fact an interesting sweet spot: lots of options and, if properly approached, not much power-creep. Anyway, as usual, I am digressing...

The first campaign setting that I bought!

Both the player of the half-elf fighter and I loved the idea of the character using daggers. It was his signature weapon after all. So, I decided to adapt the idea (not the rules) of the Invisible Blade to an AD&D 2nd Fighter Kit. Here are the results after a few months of playtesting.

The Invisible Blade (Fighter Kit)

Seen as daredevils or maniacs, invisible blades are fighters that eschew heavy armor and shield, trusting only on their reflexes and sharp daggers (or knives, katars, dirks, stilettos, kukris etc.). They enjoy the thrill of combat, to live on the edge, daring the gods to bring about their doom. The fact that many invisible blades fight a smile on their faces doesn’t help their reputation.

As a Fighter Kit, Invisibles Blades use the same THAC0, Hit Dice, and experience table as a Fighter.

Requirements: Str 9, Dex 13, Char 13

Alignments: any non-Lawful

Allowed Armor: Only leather. They don’t use shields.

Allowed Weapons: Only small blades (either piercing or slashing ones).

Weapon Proficiency: Invisible Blades must specialize in a small blade of some kind.

Non-Weapon Proficiency: Invisibles Blades can buy any proficiency from the Warrior and Rogue groups.

Benefits: all the benefits below presume an Invisible Blade with the right weapon and armor combination.

1. Amazing Speed: -3 bonus to Initiative or one Speed Category faster (if using Combat & Tactics).

2. Snake Lunge: the first time that any intelligent humanoid enemy faces an Invisible Blade they are susceptible to a deadly and sudden lunge that often catches them by surprise. This only works once with each enemy and any other adversary who saw the movement or heard about it won’t fall for the trick. In game terms, the Invisible Blade provokes a surprise roll (roll a 1d10 and 1-3 is a surprise). If the lunge hits, treat the Invisible Blade as a backstabbing thief of the same level.

3. Flying Death: at the beginning of any combat encounter, before both sides engage in melee, a non-surprised Invisible Blade can throw a small blade if he was carrying one before the encounter started (this works similar to the official rule that allow archers with a knocked arrow to shoot before initiative).

4. Daring Die and Daring Points: Invisible Blades’ panache and sheer insanity in battle, as well as their amazing reflexes, are not represented by modifiers to Armor Class but by a pool of Daring Points. Daring Points work like Hit Points in that if an Invisible Blade is hit, they can decide to lose the former instead of the latter. Daring Die are like Hit Dice but generate only Daring Points. The idea is that, unlike AC, which is a static number, Daring goes down with combat. An Invisible Blade’s Daring Die (DD) is a 1d4 and they gain one per level. Therefore, for example, a 3^rd level Invisible Blade has 3d10 HD and 3d4 DD. Daring Points don’t work against surprise attacks or attacks that the Invisible Blade cannot perceive. They can’t be healed in any way. If an attack brings the Invisible Blade to 0 or lower hit points, they fall, no matter how many Daring Points they have. After combat, if an Invisible Blade can clean their blades and catch their breath (1 turn or 10 minutes), they can reroll their DD. If the amount is higher than their current total of Daring Points, then they can use the higher amount. Daring Points do not count as hit points for any purposes and an conflicts with the current rules will be adjudicated by the DM.

5. Make them Bleed!: any small bladed weapon in the hands of an Invisible Blade increases the die damage by one step. For example, daggers (usually 1d4 against medium targets) cause 1d6 points of the damage in the hands on one of those maniacs.

Disadvantages:

1. Invisible Blades are limited to leather armor and cannot use any type of shield, as detailed above. They can only use magical weapons for which they are specialized.

2. If their reputation is known, Invisible Blades suffer a -3 reaction penalty from Lawful authorities and in most civilized realms or cities (although they do fare well within areas dominated by Thieves Guilds).

3. Invisible Blades crave danger and risk. This trait should be roleplayed by Invisible Blades PCs and usually result in them targeting the biggest or stronger enemy in battle or attempting crazy stunts. DMs should reward extra XP for those attempts if successful (for example, perhaps granting +15% over the amount that the defeated enemy would concede). DMs whose desire a more rules-heavy limitation can use the following: while an Invisible Blade has at least 1 Daring Point, they must roll equal or below their lowest stat between Intelligence, Wisdom, and Charisma. If they fail this check, they will refuse healing (i.e. if healed by forced with magic they must resist the spell with a saving throw).

Quick & Dirty versions for other d20s!

These are really “quick and dirty” as I haven’t pondered much about them, so be warned…

OD&D (the true and only one, from 74!) and clones: keep this as simple as possible. Limit the armor and weapons and just use Daring Die and Daring Points to make it different from a normal fighter. I am curious to see how this “ablative pool” of hit points interacts with the normal hit points (which are already heavily abstracted in OD&D).

OSE or B/X D&D or similar editions/clones: use the kit basically as written as a modified Fighter class. Ignore ability requirements and proficiency entries. Considering the most often those versions of D&D use a simpler initiative system, I would also remove Amazing Speed. Otherwise, it is worth a shot to see how this would play. It can be easily reskinned for a duelist or pirate (PCs who don’t use heavy armor). 

DCC RPG: one of my all-time favourite d20s. The Warrior and Thief are both already perfect takes on the Invisible Blade IMHO. However, if you must, try this hack: make a Warrior but restrict his armor to leather and his weapons to small blades, as per the kit. Reduce his hit dice to d8. Let him recover Luck as a Thief or Halfling. Now bump his Deed Dice by 1 dice step (i.e. it start as a d4 instead of d3, reaching d10+5 at 10^th level) and bump the weapon damage also by 1 step (i.e. daggers do 1d6). There is a catch here: the Deed Dice ONLY WORKS with small blade weapons. For the “ablative pool” of hit points (Daring Points) I will give you 2 options. Option 1: use Luck. An Invisible Blade can reduce any damage taken by their Luck. Easy to remember. Option 2 (my favourite but it requires playtesting): during the first round of combat roll only (if not surprise) roll Deed Dice as a free action and gains a number of temporary hit points equal to the result. During later rounds, each time you attempt a Mighty Deed of Arms, you can decide before or after the roll to add the Deed Die result to your pool of temporary hit points. If you do this, you can’t execute a different maneuver or otherwise add the Deed Die to your damage rolls. If those temporary hit points are spent, you have “run out of panache” for that battle and can’t use this trick anymore. After the last round of combat, your temporary hit points are gone.