Justin Alexander of The Alexandrian has been working on a simplified version of Third Edition rules for years now. After numerous delays, the "Black Book Beta" for the project, now called Legends & Labyrinths, is making its way out to contributors, of which I'm one. You can read more about the project (including a number of previews) at the Alexandrian itself, and if you like, you can contribute as you see fit over at the Legends & Labyrinths 8-Bit Funding page.
I've now taken a cursory skim through the Beta (which is missing a complete detailing of spells, monsters, and magic items for now), and wanted to organize my initial thoughts on it. As I come back to the book in the coming days and weeks, I'll probably have further thoughts, including musings on how I might use material in the book for my Pathfinder game.
General Things
Layout/Graphics: The layout of the book is crisp and clean, and very easy to read. It's currently low on art, but this is isn't necessarily a bad thing all told, since it eases use of the book as a reference text. That will, of course, be changing in the future via the funding project, but judging from the functionality of the layout I've seen so far, the art won't be a detriment to the final product at all. The book as a whole has a minimalist approach to layout that strongly evokes the original AD&D books of my childhood, which I thought was pretty cool.
Sidebar Reference System: There are a lot of neat systems in the book (for stunts, building encounters, and so on), but the one that takes the cake has to be the Sidebar Reference System (SRS). It's so simple and yet so useful that I can't believe we've spent more than a decade with 3rd Edition (in various forms) and not seen something like this become standard. Whenever rules text (such as a class ability) references another mechanical item (such as the entangled condition or saving throws) or any other item that could send you scrambling to another part of the rulebook to fully understand the rules in question, the mechanic is highlighted in the main text and then described in full in the page's sidebar.
This minimizes page-turning, and also keeps rules text succinct and easy to read if you do remember the mechanic in question, so you're not forced to slog through long-winded parenthetical notations. Personally, I think the book's notable for this alone.
Chapter Impressions
1 - Character Creation: This is pretty standard fare, but the deliberate omission of point-buy methods of ability score generation made me smile, but maybe that's just my developing inner-grognard talking. Including the Creature Size table here was also a nice step, as it's much easier to find than on whatever random page it was in the back of the 3rd Edition Monster Manual.
2 - Advancing Characters: One thing I really liked about this chapter was that it puts some DM material front-and-center. Too often, the information necessary to run games is sequestered off near the end of the book (such as in Pathfinder) or in another book entirely (as in almost the entire history of D&D). I've always wondered if this keeps people from exploring these sections more, and thus keeping them from trying to run their own games from time to time. I could be completely wrong on that, though.
One thing of note in a legality sense is that the original advancement table for 3rd Edition was never considered OGC, and the "Fast" experience track does duplicate those numbers as far as I recall. The presented table is different enough (since it includes three experience tracks) that it may not matter for issues of legality, though.
3 - Ability Scores: These two pages are once again pretty standard but necessary for a self-contained system.
4 - Races: Now we're getting to the good stuff. L&L contains six races (Humans, Dwarves, Elves, Half-Elves, Halflings, and Half-Orcs). Anyone familiar with 3rd Edition will recognize the relevant racial abilities. Almost everything's maintained as you would expect to support full compatibility with 3rd Edition itself (to a greater degree than Pathfinder manages).
There two notable changes that I caught my first time through. Humans have lost their racial bonus feat, instead gaining a +2 bonus on Diplomacy and Sense Motive checks, which will reduce their popularity in a L&L game relative to a Third Edition one. However, feats as we know them were axed for L&L, so this isn't exactly surprising. (And in terms of mechanical bits, the bonus feat was quite clearly chosen for humans the same way all the classes now have their feats at every third level chosen for them). The other is that Elves finally got "Elven Trance" as an explicit racial trait. My games never generally used the ability, but I was glad to see it actually codified in the traits section as opposed to buried in descriptive text.
My only negative impression here is that Half-Orcs are still an entirely unattractive race choice. Since one of L&L's principle design goals was complete compatibility with 3E, the book's sort of hamstrung here, but part of me wonders if there isn't a better "brute" race in the Monster Manual that might work better. I haven't really cracked open the old book in a long time, though, so it's entirely possible that such a perusal would come up empty.
On a more humorous note: Gnomes are absent, and though Justin was worried about being considered a "gnome hater," I welcome him into our society with open arms!
5 - Classes: Each of the game's six classes (Barbarian, Fighter, Rogue, Cleric, Wizard, Sorcerer) is presented on a two-page spread (which is also one of the few nice things that 4E did). Class abilities in the text are presented in alphabetical order, which is honestly a little strange, as you can no longer really read the class to understand how they progress. This was intended to provide for ease of reference, but I'm not sure the trade-off is really worth it, since two pages isn't really a great deal to scan to find the ability you're looking for.
Each class has the class abilities you'd expect, as well as a new ability every third level (to replace the feat a character would have gained under standard 3E rules). Most of these abilities *are* feats, exactly as we know them, but there are a few new ones here and there.
Barbarians receive Combat Expertise, which feels strange for them thematically. Personally, I'd liked to have seen them get Endurance and Diehard (swapping out another feat to make room for the latter, obviously). One thing I really like, though, is the Sprint ability, gained at 3rd level (which is the thankfully-renamed Run feat from 3E). It's quite thematically appropriate, I think.
Clerics are as powerful as ever here, as we might expect in any revision of 3rd Edition. But that's okay, given that anyone reading this blog or checking out L&L is probably a fan of the different sort of balance achieved in 3E's various forms, as opposed to something like that in 4E. Notably, though, with the removal of feats, Clerics are going to have a harder time out-fighting fighters, and they also don't have any Metamagic to increase the power of their spells. Cleric "feats" are all centered around the two-step 3E turning mechanic. While it may be outside the scope of the project, I wonder if this shouldn't get some kind of a streamlining pass, since it's a larger focus of the class now.
Fighters do what you might expect. I do wish that they didn't receive the Weapon Focus/Specialization line as part of their class features, though. L&L has the opportunity to completely do away with the "specialization" problem of 3E by making it the assumption that warrior characters don't have to stick to the same weapon for life. This would allow them to make use of rare magical weapons that they find. Barbarians and Rogues are actually somewhat more flexible in their weapon choice than Fighters are in L&L because they don't receive any notable specialization abilities. This is somewhat difficult to address, as there are only so many feats to draw from in the SRD, but I think it's worth some thought, at least.
Rogues get my vote as the "best" class at this stage of the game's development. They're solid all around, and though they have high incentive to specialize in melee combat, they gain a couple abilities that don't make them helpless in ranged combat (where it's always been difficult to gain Sneak Attack damage). Chief among these is that they can ready a ranged attack to trigger when one of their allies strikes a target, and that target loses its Dex bonus to AC for the attack, triggering Sneak Attack dice. Rogues also gain the ability to Sneak Attack undead monsters at 9th level, which was always a huge issue for them in 3E.
I have one minor quibble with the Rogue. Due L&L favoring classifications for weapon proficiencies across the board (as opposed to lists), they're no longer proficient with short swords or short bows, since they're restricted to Simple weapons. Rogues have been proficient with these two since they were Thieves in the days of yore, as best as I can recall. Given the game's compatibility with 3E, it's easy to add these back in, of course, but it makes the game feel slightly less "complete" to me.
Sorcrerers are the only spellcasting class with access to Metamagic in L&L, giving them a distinct identity from both the Wizard and the Cleric. This also has the added benefit of meaning that they're on better footing with the Wizard, who, with properly chosen feats, was generally always a bit better than the Sorcerer in standard 3E. There's a minor formatting problem with the Sorcerer Spells per Day table. At a cursory glance, it appears that Sorcerers gain their spell levels another level behind Wizards than was normal in 3E, though if you cross-reference bonus spells based on ability scores and the Spells Known table, you can reasonably infer that nothing's changed here. A footnote or other formatting change would probably be helpful here.
Wizards devote their class features to Item Creation, and gain all the relevant "feats" as they advance in levels. Craft Construct (the Wizard's 20th-level Item Creation ability) wasn't a feat as far as I can recall, though, so it might need to actually be spelled out. Admittedly this isn't an area of the rules I've ever actually used, though.
I've been at this post for awhile, and I'm starting to lose steam, so I think I'll split my Impressions into at least two posts (probably three, though, judging by the rest of the content in the book so far). Overall, I have to say I'm a big fan of L&L so far. It manages to capture a lot of the feel of older editions of the game through the simplicity of its character creation just as advertised, and I think that's pretty great. The Skills, Stunts, Hazards, and Monsters systems from later in the book all look rather functional while maintaining simplicity as well, though I'll look at those in more detail later.
Dreams and Dice
Monday, August 29, 2011
Legends & Labyrinths: First Impressions (Chapters 1-5)
Labels:
3.0/3.5
Sunday, April 3, 2011
Player Avatars and Player Characters
The ideas that follow have been kicking around in my head for over a month now. I’ve struggled with finding the right way to explain them, and have come to realize that if I don’t just get out there and write them, they’ll languish forever in the labyrinthine corridors of my mind. With that in mind, I admit that my ideas here may not be entirely clear, but with any luck, I’ll also be able to expand and clarify them with time.
Over the past seven or eight months, I’ve spent a lot of time creating new characters for new campaigns and inviting new characters to my own campaign. Around a year ago, our long-running 3rd Edition campaign (which lasted for ten years, dove into Epic rules headlong, and then into third-party divinity rules until our characters were more powerful than any of the gods we had once worshipped) came to an end, and we’re now on our third campaign in the former’s timeslot (more or less). What’s struck me in all of this is that every one of us has approached the character creation process in entirely different ways, and these differences have also manifested themselves in the way we approach the role-playing of those characters. In thinking about these differences, I’ve begun to wonder about what I’m calling player avatars and player characters. I want to lay these ideas out there, in part to help develop them personally and perhaps get some commentary on them (because I have a feeling I’m being too binary here).
(In what follows, I will use “PC” to refer both to player avatars and player characters if only to maintain standard parlance. At some point, I hope to find a better term than “player character” for the type of PC that I use it to describe.)
A player avatar is what I think of as a PC designed primarily to act as an individual player’s manifestation within a world, or an avenue through which the player can explore a world. A player avatar does what the player thinks is best or what the player finds most interesting in a given situation. Distinct characterization may be present within a player avatar—but often, characterization and background will be built up as an amalgam of the actions which the avatar’s player found best or most interesting throughout the game. An avatar whose player is fond of gaining level is likely to seek out battle or opportunities for it frequently. A player who finds a particular aspect of a game master’s setting might create an avatar who is an expert in that subject (or perhaps intensely curious about it) so that they can, through the game, learn more about what interests them in the game master’s setting. A player avatar’s in-character rationales are often straight-forward. Sometimes, they may not be overtly present at all, and others, they may be infused with a heavy level of metagame knowledge and assumptions. As an example, consider the protagonist of a Grand Theft Auto title, if the plot missions were set aside (as they often are in favor of the chaotic fun the “sandbox” of these games provides). Though the Grand Theft Auto games have a central plot, the player can elect to completely ignore it in favor of running around causing mayhem, repainting cars, gambling, or dealing drugs (individual “side-games” may vary between the various titles in the series). Other examples abound in the field of video games. Often, in video games, “avatar” protagonists are often silent, so as to allow the player to “become” them (think of Link from the Legend of Zelda series or Samus Aran in the Metroid Series—primarily in the Prime games, which are first-person).
A player character can often grow out of what began as a player avatar. The player of a character (in the narrow sense of this post) may often try to divorce her own thoughts from her character’s, and is probably on some level fond of the complaint, “But it’s what my character would do!” A character may have a written background and a family tree, or the player may invent these things whole-cloth as the events of the game call for them, but a player with a PC who is very deep into “character” territory may often find that these ideas will come to them very naturally, as they get to “know” the character. In a sense, the player is taking on the role of a character that already exists within the game master’s setting. A well-developed avatar can easily be a character (and indeed, the best characters are probably infused with a healthy dose of “avatarness,” to keep the player interested in more than just her character). Player characters tend not to rely on metagame knowledge to decide their actions, and their decisions may interweave a number of facets of the character, such as their fears and desires, which may not always concur with the fears and desires of the player. An example parallel to the Grand Theft Auto one above would be the protagonist of Assassin’s Creed II, Ezio Auditore. The game itself has a very similar structure to the Grand Theft Auto series, filled to the brim as it is with completely optional side quests and a largely open environment for the player to explore. The key difference, though, is that “Ezio did not kill civilians,” as the game reminds you each time you kill an innocent bystander. Kill enough civilians, and you “desynch,” which is equivalent to dying in battle for the game. This sets a limit on what the player can do in the game based on details of Ezio’s own personality and morality. Another, far more developed example would be Commander Shepard of Bioware’s Mass Effect role-playing games. Though the player is free to choose how Shepard responds to a given situation, those choices are limited, and ultimately, each of them is an “in-character” way that Shepard would respond, whether it is a “Paragon” choice or a “Renegade” choice.
Obviously, nearly all PCs are going to be a blend of “avatar” and “character.” Even the listed examples have some aspects that lean to the other side of the “spectrum” (said in quotes because I’m not entirely sure there actually is a continuity here). Link, for instance, can’t murder civilians, period (though in several of the games, he can spend a lot of his time harassing chickens if the player so chooses). Personally, I tend to find a “character” more rewarding than an “avatar,” to the point that I sometimes can’t wrap my head around the way someone playing an “avatar” is playing the game, but that doesn’t mean that either one way is the better way to play. Do you lean toward one side or the other when you create a character? Do you think there are important subtleties I’m glossing over here? Am I philosophizing about nothing?
I don’t know the answers to those last few questions, which is part of why I wanted to get this out there. Let me know what you think in the comments.
Over the past seven or eight months, I’ve spent a lot of time creating new characters for new campaigns and inviting new characters to my own campaign. Around a year ago, our long-running 3rd Edition campaign (which lasted for ten years, dove into Epic rules headlong, and then into third-party divinity rules until our characters were more powerful than any of the gods we had once worshipped) came to an end, and we’re now on our third campaign in the former’s timeslot (more or less). What’s struck me in all of this is that every one of us has approached the character creation process in entirely different ways, and these differences have also manifested themselves in the way we approach the role-playing of those characters. In thinking about these differences, I’ve begun to wonder about what I’m calling player avatars and player characters. I want to lay these ideas out there, in part to help develop them personally and perhaps get some commentary on them (because I have a feeling I’m being too binary here).
(In what follows, I will use “PC” to refer both to player avatars and player characters if only to maintain standard parlance. At some point, I hope to find a better term than “player character” for the type of PC that I use it to describe.)
A player avatar is what I think of as a PC designed primarily to act as an individual player’s manifestation within a world, or an avenue through which the player can explore a world. A player avatar does what the player thinks is best or what the player finds most interesting in a given situation. Distinct characterization may be present within a player avatar—but often, characterization and background will be built up as an amalgam of the actions which the avatar’s player found best or most interesting throughout the game. An avatar whose player is fond of gaining level is likely to seek out battle or opportunities for it frequently. A player who finds a particular aspect of a game master’s setting might create an avatar who is an expert in that subject (or perhaps intensely curious about it) so that they can, through the game, learn more about what interests them in the game master’s setting. A player avatar’s in-character rationales are often straight-forward. Sometimes, they may not be overtly present at all, and others, they may be infused with a heavy level of metagame knowledge and assumptions. As an example, consider the protagonist of a Grand Theft Auto title, if the plot missions were set aside (as they often are in favor of the chaotic fun the “sandbox” of these games provides). Though the Grand Theft Auto games have a central plot, the player can elect to completely ignore it in favor of running around causing mayhem, repainting cars, gambling, or dealing drugs (individual “side-games” may vary between the various titles in the series). Other examples abound in the field of video games. Often, in video games, “avatar” protagonists are often silent, so as to allow the player to “become” them (think of Link from the Legend of Zelda series or Samus Aran in the Metroid Series—primarily in the Prime games, which are first-person).
A player character can often grow out of what began as a player avatar. The player of a character (in the narrow sense of this post) may often try to divorce her own thoughts from her character’s, and is probably on some level fond of the complaint, “But it’s what my character would do!” A character may have a written background and a family tree, or the player may invent these things whole-cloth as the events of the game call for them, but a player with a PC who is very deep into “character” territory may often find that these ideas will come to them very naturally, as they get to “know” the character. In a sense, the player is taking on the role of a character that already exists within the game master’s setting. A well-developed avatar can easily be a character (and indeed, the best characters are probably infused with a healthy dose of “avatarness,” to keep the player interested in more than just her character). Player characters tend not to rely on metagame knowledge to decide their actions, and their decisions may interweave a number of facets of the character, such as their fears and desires, which may not always concur with the fears and desires of the player. An example parallel to the Grand Theft Auto one above would be the protagonist of Assassin’s Creed II, Ezio Auditore. The game itself has a very similar structure to the Grand Theft Auto series, filled to the brim as it is with completely optional side quests and a largely open environment for the player to explore. The key difference, though, is that “Ezio did not kill civilians,” as the game reminds you each time you kill an innocent bystander. Kill enough civilians, and you “desynch,” which is equivalent to dying in battle for the game. This sets a limit on what the player can do in the game based on details of Ezio’s own personality and morality. Another, far more developed example would be Commander Shepard of Bioware’s Mass Effect role-playing games. Though the player is free to choose how Shepard responds to a given situation, those choices are limited, and ultimately, each of them is an “in-character” way that Shepard would respond, whether it is a “Paragon” choice or a “Renegade” choice.
Obviously, nearly all PCs are going to be a blend of “avatar” and “character.” Even the listed examples have some aspects that lean to the other side of the “spectrum” (said in quotes because I’m not entirely sure there actually is a continuity here). Link, for instance, can’t murder civilians, period (though in several of the games, he can spend a lot of his time harassing chickens if the player so chooses). Personally, I tend to find a “character” more rewarding than an “avatar,” to the point that I sometimes can’t wrap my head around the way someone playing an “avatar” is playing the game, but that doesn’t mean that either one way is the better way to play. Do you lean toward one side or the other when you create a character? Do you think there are important subtleties I’m glossing over here? Am I philosophizing about nothing?
I don’t know the answers to those last few questions, which is part of why I wanted to get this out there. Let me know what you think in the comments.
Labels:
character development,
characters,
role-playing
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
How Pathfinder Attempts to Address the Magic Item Problem
The well-known “Christmas tree” effect of magic items in the d20 system, discussed by Pedro earlier today, is a thorn in the side of many, players and Dungeon (or Game) Masters alike. The problem is wrapped up deeply within the fundamental math that lies behind the system, and so any number of attempts to rectify it can have far-reaching consequences that echo throughout the rules. But there’s some good news. Though it may not seem like it on the surface, Pathfinder has made a lot of subtle changes that, as a whole reduce character reliance on the staple Big Six magical items. These changes don’t solve the problem wholesale—Pathfinder’s adherence to backwards compatibility prevented the sort of sweeping changes necessary to the core of the game to really do so—but they do give players more flexibility in their magic item choice, and Dungeon Masters more flexibility in how they award treasure. The most important changes, as I see them, and why they’re important are as follows:
1. Increased Hit Points: Just about every Pathfinder character should end up with more hit points than she would have had if she were written up using the 3.0 or 3.5 rules. Four of the 11 core classes (Ranger, Rogue, Sorcerer, and Wizard) now have greater Hit Dice, granting them an extra hit point with each level. Most characters will also receive an additional hit point per level from Pathfinder’s favored class mechanics, and the Toughness feat received a welcome buff that can further boost hit points for those that feel need of it. These increases are, for most purposes, equivalent to giving each character +2 to her Constitution score (minus the increase to Fortitude saving throws), meaning that fewer characters will be in dire need of an item to boost that score. It’s also worth noting that many characters will gain a few effective hit points thanks to Pathfinder’s widening of the “near death” window from -10 to the negative of the character’s Constitution score, which again does something to lessen the need for a secondary Constitution item.
2. Increased Attack Bonuses and Damage: Most non-spellcasting, damage dealing characters hit more often and they hit harder when they do hit, thanks to a number of interlocking changes made in Pathfinder. Fighters receive the benefits of a +5 magical weapon over the course of 20 levels for free (from Weapon Training). Power Attack and Deadly Aim provide greater bonuses for softer penalties than they did in 3.0/3.5. While many monsters deal more damage than they may have in previous versions of the game (because they too benefit from these general changes), many of them have similar Armor Class and Hit Point values to those that they had before, allowing characters to hit with a +1 weapon where they would have only been able to hit with a +2 weapon before, and in many cases, they’ll be dealing more damage with that hit as well.
3. Extra Feats: A level 20 3.5 character typically had 7 (or 8 if human) feats, while a level 20 Pathfinder character has 10 (or 11). In the grand scheme of things, this makes many characters more able to take feats they might have otherwise skipped, such as Great Fortitude, Toughness, or Weapon Focus. Thus, the extra feats tie into items one and two above, allowing characters to have greater survivability and offensive capability than they would have otherwise had. Those characters that don’t take such feats will often gain flexibility, which though difficult to model, can’t be discounted either.
4. Encounter Recalibration: In the 3.5 encounter guidelines, characters were expected to take on encounters that were up to four levels higher than the average party level as “boss encounters.” Pathfinder defines the “Epic” encounter equivalent as equal to the party’s average level plus three. This has the benefit of lowering the target numbers slightly in the player’s favor, on average. This is further supported by Pathfinder’s much greater support for building encounters with numerous opponents of level lower than that of the player characters. Building such encounters was often a nightmare in the 3.5 system, and it was often pointless because monsters couldn’t do anything incredibly dangerous to begin with, but in Pathfinder, with their increased attack bonuses and damage, even monsters three or four levels below the party can be a notable threat when found in numbers or with some other advantage, be it terrain or otherwise.
Taken together, these changes greatly increase character power, but given that many of the “target numbers” for a given level remained the same or increased at a lesser rate than character power did, they also help to reduce, slightly, character dependence on magical supplementation. The difference is a subtle one, and I know from my own experience that the player drive to acquire magical items is as great as it ever was, so it’s not always noticeable at the table. I’ve seen a number of players, as well, attempt to blame their failures on a lack of magic items, when they were defeated just as much by poor tactical decisions.
All that being said, I think system could still use some work, and it’s my hope that an eventual 2nd Edition of Pathfinder will take further steps to reign in the Christmas Tree effect. There are a number of solutions one can use to address the situation for now, though, the most common of which is through automatic bonuses of some type. My preferred solution is to give every character enhancement bonuses to ability scores as they level up, eliminating the need for the staple ability score increasing items. You can mix and match these variants to taste, though I myself worry less about magical weapons and armor as they don’t take away slots from “cool” items the way others might.
I originally planned to dive into another topic today, but I felt it was worth giving my views on magic items, since Pedro really brought up a lot of the foibles of the system in that area. Within the next couple of days, I hope to have an article up on the topic of player avatars and player characters, what I mean by those terms, and the differences between them.
1. Increased Hit Points: Just about every Pathfinder character should end up with more hit points than she would have had if she were written up using the 3.0 or 3.5 rules. Four of the 11 core classes (Ranger, Rogue, Sorcerer, and Wizard) now have greater Hit Dice, granting them an extra hit point with each level. Most characters will also receive an additional hit point per level from Pathfinder’s favored class mechanics, and the Toughness feat received a welcome buff that can further boost hit points for those that feel need of it. These increases are, for most purposes, equivalent to giving each character +2 to her Constitution score (minus the increase to Fortitude saving throws), meaning that fewer characters will be in dire need of an item to boost that score. It’s also worth noting that many characters will gain a few effective hit points thanks to Pathfinder’s widening of the “near death” window from -10 to the negative of the character’s Constitution score, which again does something to lessen the need for a secondary Constitution item.
2. Increased Attack Bonuses and Damage: Most non-spellcasting, damage dealing characters hit more often and they hit harder when they do hit, thanks to a number of interlocking changes made in Pathfinder. Fighters receive the benefits of a +5 magical weapon over the course of 20 levels for free (from Weapon Training). Power Attack and Deadly Aim provide greater bonuses for softer penalties than they did in 3.0/3.5. While many monsters deal more damage than they may have in previous versions of the game (because they too benefit from these general changes), many of them have similar Armor Class and Hit Point values to those that they had before, allowing characters to hit with a +1 weapon where they would have only been able to hit with a +2 weapon before, and in many cases, they’ll be dealing more damage with that hit as well.
3. Extra Feats: A level 20 3.5 character typically had 7 (or 8 if human) feats, while a level 20 Pathfinder character has 10 (or 11). In the grand scheme of things, this makes many characters more able to take feats they might have otherwise skipped, such as Great Fortitude, Toughness, or Weapon Focus. Thus, the extra feats tie into items one and two above, allowing characters to have greater survivability and offensive capability than they would have otherwise had. Those characters that don’t take such feats will often gain flexibility, which though difficult to model, can’t be discounted either.
4. Encounter Recalibration: In the 3.5 encounter guidelines, characters were expected to take on encounters that were up to four levels higher than the average party level as “boss encounters.” Pathfinder defines the “Epic” encounter equivalent as equal to the party’s average level plus three. This has the benefit of lowering the target numbers slightly in the player’s favor, on average. This is further supported by Pathfinder’s much greater support for building encounters with numerous opponents of level lower than that of the player characters. Building such encounters was often a nightmare in the 3.5 system, and it was often pointless because monsters couldn’t do anything incredibly dangerous to begin with, but in Pathfinder, with their increased attack bonuses and damage, even monsters three or four levels below the party can be a notable threat when found in numbers or with some other advantage, be it terrain or otherwise.
Taken together, these changes greatly increase character power, but given that many of the “target numbers” for a given level remained the same or increased at a lesser rate than character power did, they also help to reduce, slightly, character dependence on magical supplementation. The difference is a subtle one, and I know from my own experience that the player drive to acquire magical items is as great as it ever was, so it’s not always noticeable at the table. I’ve seen a number of players, as well, attempt to blame their failures on a lack of magic items, when they were defeated just as much by poor tactical decisions.
All that being said, I think system could still use some work, and it’s my hope that an eventual 2nd Edition of Pathfinder will take further steps to reign in the Christmas Tree effect. There are a number of solutions one can use to address the situation for now, though, the most common of which is through automatic bonuses of some type. My preferred solution is to give every character enhancement bonuses to ability scores as they level up, eliminating the need for the staple ability score increasing items. You can mix and match these variants to taste, though I myself worry less about magical weapons and armor as they don’t take away slots from “cool” items the way others might.
I originally planned to dive into another topic today, but I felt it was worth giving my views on magic items, since Pedro really brought up a lot of the foibles of the system in that area. Within the next couple of days, I hope to have an article up on the topic of player avatars and player characters, what I mean by those terms, and the differences between them.
Labels:
3.0/3.5,
Pathfinder
The Problem With Magical Items
When it comes to magical items, I have something of a reputation for being a stingy DM. I'm not proud of that description, but it's the truth. For whatever reason, when it comes to vanquished foes, they seem to lack the tons of gold or treasure chests of magical items that they're supposed to be carrying for the party to rummage through.
I know, I'm not being fair in my description. I know that items and gold can be fairly and realistically fed into campaigns. Gold can be given as rewards, and weapons and armor can be found in the enemy's armory. With some work and planning, it's not too crazy to follow the tables and keep everything running like it's supposed to.
And every campaign, I seem to toss all of that out the window.
Honestly, it really never affected our games, for the most part. During our time in 3.0 and 3.5, we rarely had magical items creep into our game. The one magical item of note in our old game was a flaming longbow, which made the group's jaws collectively drop when the ranger fired a few arrows and dealt a wizard's fireball in damage to his enemies. When the bow was sundered, the player almost quit the game forever, and his character was scarred for life, endlessly lamenting the supposed loss of his viability and worth in the group. Despite the lack of magical items, the group was able to handle whatever came their way, short of that time they ran away from an army and doomed two continents to an empirical takeover.
This all seemed to change as we got into Pathfinder, however. The farther we got in levels, the more we could feel the pressure to boost our numbers through magical items. Monsters were terrifyingly accurate, and the amount of damage they were dishing out made the whiffs and misses of our group all the more painful. It didn't take long before my old approach to sparse item distribution on items was really hurting the group. It wasn't long before I had to go back and reexamine my entire approach to the game. When Pathfinder cleaned up and polished 3.5, one of the results was that damage was more prominent. Not that you couldn't do the damage in 3.5 that you could do in Pathfinder, but Pathfinder did a much better job of ensuring that it was easier to build a good character. And in turn, they made their monsters able to return the damage as well.
The problem I have with magical items is that the game in completely balanced around the group having them. This isn't to say I don't think the system works. It obviously works, and works well. However, the dependency on magical items, especially The Big Six (magic weapon, magic armor, ring of protection, cloak of resistence, amulet of natural armor, and stat boosters), diminishes the fun of the game for me in a few ways.
First, I don't enjoy how most everyone in the group is seeking the same items, every time, in every game. If we start higher level, everyone's looking at what they can start with and going "*sigh*, let's get AC out of the way." If we come across magical equipment in the wild, the group immediately starts figuring out where they can sell it in order to get what they actually need/want. Of course, I could simply give them exactly what they expect, every time, in every game. That comes off as a bit bland, though.
Secondly, the combat in the mid and upper levels is so wrapped around the fact you are expected to possess certain bonuses that it really starts to feel like the magical items are wearing you. I've never been comfortable with the fact that a fighter outside of his gear is so much less a threat. At higher levels, the clothes make the man, not the other way around. If magical items were bling, your level 15 fighter would look like Mr. T.
So what's the solution? Well, for myself, I'm going to be experimenting with adding in the inherent bonus feature from D&D 4E's Dungeon Master's Guide II. This system basically grants an enhancement bonus of +1 every so many levels to both Base Attack and AC, in order to make up for a game that either lacks magical items or doesn't wish to incorporate a lot of items into their game.
What do the rest of you think? Is there a better way to keep the game from becoming dependent on magical items? Is it ok that the game is? Or do you think I'm completely wrong? Let me know in the comments!
I know, I'm not being fair in my description. I know that items and gold can be fairly and realistically fed into campaigns. Gold can be given as rewards, and weapons and armor can be found in the enemy's armory. With some work and planning, it's not too crazy to follow the tables and keep everything running like it's supposed to.
And every campaign, I seem to toss all of that out the window.
Honestly, it really never affected our games, for the most part. During our time in 3.0 and 3.5, we rarely had magical items creep into our game. The one magical item of note in our old game was a flaming longbow, which made the group's jaws collectively drop when the ranger fired a few arrows and dealt a wizard's fireball in damage to his enemies. When the bow was sundered, the player almost quit the game forever, and his character was scarred for life, endlessly lamenting the supposed loss of his viability and worth in the group. Despite the lack of magical items, the group was able to handle whatever came their way, short of that time they ran away from an army and doomed two continents to an empirical takeover.
This all seemed to change as we got into Pathfinder, however. The farther we got in levels, the more we could feel the pressure to boost our numbers through magical items. Monsters were terrifyingly accurate, and the amount of damage they were dishing out made the whiffs and misses of our group all the more painful. It didn't take long before my old approach to sparse item distribution on items was really hurting the group. It wasn't long before I had to go back and reexamine my entire approach to the game. When Pathfinder cleaned up and polished 3.5, one of the results was that damage was more prominent. Not that you couldn't do the damage in 3.5 that you could do in Pathfinder, but Pathfinder did a much better job of ensuring that it was easier to build a good character. And in turn, they made their monsters able to return the damage as well.
The problem I have with magical items is that the game in completely balanced around the group having them. This isn't to say I don't think the system works. It obviously works, and works well. However, the dependency on magical items, especially The Big Six (magic weapon, magic armor, ring of protection, cloak of resistence, amulet of natural armor, and stat boosters), diminishes the fun of the game for me in a few ways.
First, I don't enjoy how most everyone in the group is seeking the same items, every time, in every game. If we start higher level, everyone's looking at what they can start with and going "*sigh*, let's get AC out of the way." If we come across magical equipment in the wild, the group immediately starts figuring out where they can sell it in order to get what they actually need/want. Of course, I could simply give them exactly what they expect, every time, in every game. That comes off as a bit bland, though.
"I pity the foo that don't take Power Attack." |
So what's the solution? Well, for myself, I'm going to be experimenting with adding in the inherent bonus feature from D&D 4E's Dungeon Master's Guide II. This system basically grants an enhancement bonus of +1 every so many levels to both Base Attack and AC, in order to make up for a game that either lacks magical items or doesn't wish to incorporate a lot of items into their game.
What do the rest of you think? Is there a better way to keep the game from becoming dependent on magical items? Is it ok that the game is? Or do you think I'm completely wrong? Let me know in the comments!
Labels:
3.0/3.5,
Pathfinder
Monday, March 7, 2011
Another Introduction
On the spot as I now am, I suppose my own introduction is in order.
As Pedro has so graciously noted, my name’s Kevin. I’ve been playing Dungeons and Dragons for about fifteen years. Before that, I was watching my father act as Dungeon Master for a number of his old friends, wishing I was “old enough” to join them. In between those gaming sessions, which were often separated by months of real time, I begged to stay up late to watch him play Pools of Darkness on the PC and Final Fantasy on the original Nintendo. At the age of ten, the recommended age according to the cover, I gained clearance for the Red Box Player’s Manual for the original basic Dungeons and Dragons game. My first character was a Thief whose name I can no longer remember because he soon gave way to greater things: the Player’s Handbook and Advanced Dungeons and Dragons.
My first real character was a human magic-user named Damon with a hoopak, ripped whole-heartedly from Dragonlance (like so many of my future first ventures into world-building would be) and a pseudodragon familiar, which I earned by rolling on the familiar table until I got the result I wanted. He was a slayer of goblin women and children, crushing them by the hundreds with a powerful fireball scroll, and when he died, his body was carried in a backpack full of all manner of maces, spears, and swords because we were adventurers unbound by petty rules of encumbrance. In time, I gained access to the secrets of Gygax’s original Dungeon Master’s Guide, and armed with a secondhand copy of the 2nd Edition Player’s Handbook, took my first stumbling steps into running my own games for my friends, which were a hodgepodge of rules from 1st Edition, 2nd Edition, and my Dad’s own house rules.
My passion for the game really took off, though, with the shift to 3rd Edition, by invitation to a game run by the creator of a graphical Multi-User Dungeon. After the unfortunate end of the game, he reached out to prominent members of its community to participate in a campaign set in that same universe, played online via IRC. Somehow, one of them thought to contact me (though it was my father with the prominence, rather than myself!), and soon I was spending large amounts of disposable income on this new edition of the game and playing sometimes as often as six days a week between three or four different campaigns.
Ten years later, I’ve since moved on to Paizo’s Pathfinder, which continues to carry the torch of the game’s traditions that I feel was set aside by 4th Edition. I can, at times, be something of an edition purist, and I’m far less wandered in my experiences than Pedro. Aside from Dungeons and Dragons, I’ve dabbled in a handful of other d20 games, and I’m a strong proponent of the Open Gaming License. Open content will be crucial for the continued survival of the RPG industry, and with that in mind I may occasionally contribute to it here. I’m fascinated by nearly all aspects of tabletop gaming, and you’ll probably see me writing about everything from design theory and mechanics to character development and world-building. From time to time, I may delve into console gaming, with an emphasis on role-playing games in general, to supplement topics in tabletop gaming that I find interesting.
As Pedro has so graciously noted, my name’s Kevin. I’ve been playing Dungeons and Dragons for about fifteen years. Before that, I was watching my father act as Dungeon Master for a number of his old friends, wishing I was “old enough” to join them. In between those gaming sessions, which were often separated by months of real time, I begged to stay up late to watch him play Pools of Darkness on the PC and Final Fantasy on the original Nintendo. At the age of ten, the recommended age according to the cover, I gained clearance for the Red Box Player’s Manual for the original basic Dungeons and Dragons game. My first character was a Thief whose name I can no longer remember because he soon gave way to greater things: the Player’s Handbook and Advanced Dungeons and Dragons.
My first real character was a human magic-user named Damon with a hoopak, ripped whole-heartedly from Dragonlance (like so many of my future first ventures into world-building would be) and a pseudodragon familiar, which I earned by rolling on the familiar table until I got the result I wanted. He was a slayer of goblin women and children, crushing them by the hundreds with a powerful fireball scroll, and when he died, his body was carried in a backpack full of all manner of maces, spears, and swords because we were adventurers unbound by petty rules of encumbrance. In time, I gained access to the secrets of Gygax’s original Dungeon Master’s Guide, and armed with a secondhand copy of the 2nd Edition Player’s Handbook, took my first stumbling steps into running my own games for my friends, which were a hodgepodge of rules from 1st Edition, 2nd Edition, and my Dad’s own house rules.
My passion for the game really took off, though, with the shift to 3rd Edition, by invitation to a game run by the creator of a graphical Multi-User Dungeon. After the unfortunate end of the game, he reached out to prominent members of its community to participate in a campaign set in that same universe, played online via IRC. Somehow, one of them thought to contact me (though it was my father with the prominence, rather than myself!), and soon I was spending large amounts of disposable income on this new edition of the game and playing sometimes as often as six days a week between three or four different campaigns.
Ten years later, I’ve since moved on to Paizo’s Pathfinder, which continues to carry the torch of the game’s traditions that I feel was set aside by 4th Edition. I can, at times, be something of an edition purist, and I’m far less wandered in my experiences than Pedro. Aside from Dungeons and Dragons, I’ve dabbled in a handful of other d20 games, and I’m a strong proponent of the Open Gaming License. Open content will be crucial for the continued survival of the RPG industry, and with that in mind I may occasionally contribute to it here. I’m fascinated by nearly all aspects of tabletop gaming, and you’ll probably see me writing about everything from design theory and mechanics to character development and world-building. From time to time, I may delve into console gaming, with an emphasis on role-playing games in general, to supplement topics in tabletop gaming that I find interesting.
Labels:
Introductions
Introduction
Welcome to Dreams and Dice!
This site is dedicated to the ramblings, rants, musings, stories and thoughts of two dedicated DMs/writers. We hope with this site you'll find topics to ponder, ideas to inspire you, or if nothing else, content to help you kill time at work!
A little about myself. My name is Pedro, and I've been running games for 14 years. I started with Advanced Dungeons & Dragons with a thief named Lobo and a set of six-sided dice. I was unaware of both the importance of a decent name and the existence of other shapes of dice. April 6th this year marks my 15th year of running games.
Yes, I actually know the date.
Since then I've run D&D 3.0, 3.5, Hunter: The Reckoning, Pathfinder, Mage: The Awakening, Hunter: The Vigil, and a variety of short-term games such as BESM, World of Warcraft D20, and the Final Fantasy RPG created by The Returners. I even ran the Dragon Ball Z RPG for a decent amount of time. While my preferred game at the moment is Pathfinder, I'm currently looking over the rules for D&D 4E and am open to most any game.
Except for Star Wars.
I'll leave Kevin to write up his own intro, if he decides to. Regardless of whether he cracks under the intense amount of pressure that I'm putting on him to do one, we hope you enjoy the site!
This site is dedicated to the ramblings, rants, musings, stories and thoughts of two dedicated DMs/writers. We hope with this site you'll find topics to ponder, ideas to inspire you, or if nothing else, content to help you kill time at work!
A little about myself. My name is Pedro, and I've been running games for 14 years. I started with Advanced Dungeons & Dragons with a thief named Lobo and a set of six-sided dice. I was unaware of both the importance of a decent name and the existence of other shapes of dice. April 6th this year marks my 15th year of running games.
Yes, I actually know the date.
Since then I've run D&D 3.0, 3.5, Hunter: The Reckoning, Pathfinder, Mage: The Awakening, Hunter: The Vigil, and a variety of short-term games such as BESM, World of Warcraft D20, and the Final Fantasy RPG created by The Returners. I even ran the Dragon Ball Z RPG for a decent amount of time. While my preferred game at the moment is Pathfinder, I'm currently looking over the rules for D&D 4E and am open to most any game.
Except for Star Wars.
I'll leave Kevin to write up his own intro, if he decides to. Regardless of whether he cracks under the intense amount of pressure that I'm putting on him to do one, we hope you enjoy the site!
Labels:
Introductions
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