Spes Magna Games

(Which I wrote for Game Geek 13)

I remember when the 3.0 version of the d20 System hit the streets. I had been RPGing since the late 70s, and had only reluctantly moved from 1E to 2E circa 1990. Even then, I only made the change because the group of gamers that took me in when I was transferred to Hawaii was already playing 2E. For me, a good group of gamers was more important than the system. After leaving the military, I returned to Houston and picked up gaming with old friends who’d not left town. By this time, they’d all moved to 2E as well, so that’s what we kept playing.

I kept up with the Internet buzz about 3E. Not much of what I read seemed to merit investing time and money in the new system. For example, one of the supposed major improvements was replacing THAC0 with BAB. This really isn’t an improvement, however; it’s more like clever sleight of hand. BAB is just THAC0 with the math changed from subtraction to addition. I’d been using THAC0 as BAB since the mid 80s while playing 1E at Fort Bragg. More importantly, no one in my gaming group seemed interested in 3E, so why bother? The group, after all, is the thing; the game is secondary.

Then Fred decided to check out 3E. He bought the PH and fell in love. We were close to finishing up a 2E campaign, and Fred announced he wanted to run 3E. He insisted we’d all love it as much as he did. So, we made up PCs and went adventuring in a certain sunless citadel. We had fun, not really because 3E represented such a major improvement in game design, but rather because we were still that same group of friends gaming together just like we’d been doing since the late 70s.

That original gaming group is gone. In fact, I’m the only one left. Fred passed away. Others moved. The fundamental rule for me, however, hasn’t changed: The group is what’s important. I’d rather play a bad game system with people I like than a great game system with people I don’t care for.

I still try to keep up with gaming news. My reaction to 4E mirrors my initial reaction to 3E: Why bother? No one in my current group plays 4E, nor do they express any desire to. 3E’s flaws aren’t what persuaded me to eventually make the move to Pathfinder. It stands to reason those same flaws aren’t going to push me toward 4E either. After all, a game system’s flaws tend to be overwhelmingly matters of taste rather than matters of fact.

One of Pathfinder‘s widely maligned flaws is that the system did nothing to get rid of the dreaded Christmas Tree Effect. The gist of the CTE is that as PCs advance in level their equipment becomes more important than the PCs’ respective character classes. CTE critics often make three related claims:

(1) Without “level appropriate” equipment, encounters become too difficult. Attack bonuses, armor classes, saving throws, et cetera, can’t compete with more powerful creatures and effects.

(2) Without “level appropriate” equipment, the game skews even more heavily in favor of spellcasters, especially whichever one the objector feels is already the most powerful.

(3) Because of these first two claims, one cannot run a low-magic game with Pathfinder (or 3.0E or 3.5E) without a major rewrite of the rules.

Whenever I read these sorts of claims, I feel as if I’ve been stuck in some strange alternate universe where the games I play in aren’t what the game is really like. I’ve run low-magic without major rules rewrites. So have, I surmise, others. In the interest of helping gamers who might want to give low-magic gaming a try, here’re my helpful suggestions.

Replace Gear with Action Points

According to the “no low-magic” crowd, the Big Six magic items are hard-wired into the game system. Take them out, and the system falls apart, PCs die like mayflies, dogs and cats cohabitat, et cetera. The Big Six magic items are weapons, armors/shields, rings of protection, cloaks of resistance, amulets of natural armor, and ability-score boosters

The effects of these items can be replaced by Action Points. I use an Action Point system for my current low-magic campaign, and it works like a charm. (This system is described in my Rewarding Roleplaying PDF available at DriveThruRPG and at Paizo.com.) Here’s a quick and free system.

Each PC gets six Action Points per game session. A single Action Point can be spent as an immediate action even when flat-footed to gain one of the following for the duration of an encounter:

* A +1 enhancement bonus to weapon attack and damage rolls for every four character levels. This enhancement bonus counts as magic for purposes of overcoming DR.
* A +1 enhancement bonus to AC for every four character levels.
* A +1 deflection bonus to AC for every four character levels.
* A +1 resistance bonus to saving throws for every four character levels.
* A +2 enhancement bonus to one ability score for every five character levels.

The minimum bonus is +1, except for ability score bonuses, in which case the minimum bonus is +2. Using this down-and-dirty system, a PC can gain some pretty nice bonuses from round-to-round, gradually increasing in power in desired ways during the course of an encounter.

Also Do What I Do

Remember at the beginning of this article? How it seemed like I was just blathering about why I changed from one system to another? Well, there was a point to that blather, namely this: The group — not the game system — is what’s important.

So many problems with gaming groups could be avoided if people would remember that the highest purpose of any game is to have fun with friends. Everyone in a gaming group should play the game in such a way as to maximize everyone else’s fun. What that fun looks like will vary from group to group, and that’s okay.

How does this relate to low-magic gaming? Simple. If everyone agrees that abandoning most or all of the Big Six, for example, will be fun, and that the group will work together to make the game work, what more is needed? This is true no matter what the game system or style of play.

Tags: Game Geek, low-magic

(First published in Game Geek 10)

Let’s eavesdrop on a depressingly common Internet conversation:

First DM: My player’s PC has such-and-such class feature that is broken. What should I do?
Second DM: Just design your scenarios so that he can’t use the class feature. Problem solved.

Sound familiar? If so, and you’re a player, pass this article to the offending DM. If you are the offending DM, then pay careful attention, because the advice below might just keep your players from killing you and taking your stuff.

Favored Enemy, or How to Avoid Encountering Certain Creatures Ever Again

Let’s focus on one specific class feature: the ranger’s favored enemy. This class feature is frequently maligned because its bonuses are situational. Either you’re facing your ranger’s favored enemy and get the bonuses, or else you aren’t and you don’t. The DM gets to decide when your ranger gets to benefit from one of his defining class features.

Too often, a ranger’s favored enemies are much more like a list of creatures that the party won’t ever encounter. Take favored enemy (undead) at 1st-level, and you’ll never encounter an undead monster. Instead, orcs regularly mob the adventurers. Your ranger reaches 5th level and takes favored enemy (orc). From that point on, orcs are scarcer than hen’s teeth. Et cetera, ad nauseum.

“Well,” says the DM, “orcs and undead just aren’t challenging because you get so many bonuses against them. My job as DM is make sure the adventures are challenging.”

The best initial response to this is a sneer. As William Paley asked, “Who can refute a sneer?” After that, you can point out a few uncomfortable truths, starting with the one immediately below.

Class Features Aren’t Broken; You’re DMing Skills Are

This applies almost no matter what the class features. There is almost always no good reason to nix characters’ abilities. If you’re running a murder investigation, it’s bad form to rule that divination spells don’t work. Yes, that single speak with dead could very well bring the investigation to a quick end. So be it. In a similar vein, when the party tracks down the evil murderer, it’d be equally bad form for the paladin’s smite evil power to not work against him.

Characters’ abilities, feats, class features, et cetera, are the tools the players get to use to overcome the challenges the DM presents. Your players chose to play the characters they’re playing because they want to use those tools. That means that you’re not allowed to take those tools away without a very good and rare reason.

Most of the time, your players should count on getting to use those tools. Back to our ranger whose favored enemies are orcs and the undead. If that ranger isn’t encountering orcs and/or undead at least 50% of the time, then you need to stop and examine the adventures your running. Your ranger’s player deserves the opportunity to roleplay his ranger’s orc/undead-hate and to enjoy the bonuses the character gets against orcs and undead.

Letting the Characters Shine

Next time you’re prepping for your game, take stock of your players’ characters. What are those characters’ strengths in terms of feats, class features, skills, and so forth? Jot down at least one strength per character. Then, include some way for each character to revel in their respective strengths during the adventure. Pretend you’ve done what I just advised you to do, and this is what you came up with:

The Ranger: Favored enemy (undead).
The Wizard: Maxed out ranks in Linguistics.
The Cleric: Maxed out ranks in Knowledge (religion).
The Rogue: Just acquired slippers of spider climbing.

Here’re some sample challenges:

The Ranger: The BBEG is protected by a platoon of plague zombies.
The Wizard: The BBEG and its minions communicate via an ancient dialect of the Dark Tongue.
The Cleric: The BBEG and its minions are engaged in a complicated demon-summoning ritual.
The Rogue: The BBEG occupies a floating dais closer to the ceiling than the floor.

During the final battle against the BBEG, the ranger gets to have a field day mowing through the plague zombies. The wizard gets to make Linguistic checks to accurately understand the BBEG’s orders to its minions. The cleric not only gets to channel positive energy, but her keen insights provide the best way to disrupt the demon-summoning ritual. The rogue can most easily get to the floating dais. Everyone gets to use a character feature to contribute to the BBEG’s demise.

But Shouldn’t I Negate Characters’ Abilities at Least Some Time?

Yes, especially when dealing with intelligent enemies who’re expecting the sort of trouble the characters provide. The trick is to make the negation both reasonable and a challenge in itself.

For example, an undead BBEG who knows it’s being hunted by an undead-slaying ranger might recruit non-undead minions. If it’s sufficiently powerful, it might also be worried about enemies who can scry and teleport. There are reasonable defenses against both of these capabilities as well.

What is bad form, however, is to design adventures that negate character abilities in such a way as to railroad the players. Negating character abilities should paradoxically lead to greater variety in player tactics as those players seek ways to overcome the challenges presented by not being able to rely on their full arsenal.

Consider the undead BBEG again. It knows that it’s likely to face adventurers capable of teleporting. Not wanting enemies to show up at will in its lair, it employs an 11th-level cleric to ward key areas with forbiddance. Discovering the area is warded isn’t too difficult. Adventurers just need to try (and fail) to teleport into the lair. After this discovery, what choices do the characters have?

Well, they can just lump it and fight their way in the hard way. Or, better yet, they can discover that the BBEG’s cleric spends time away from the lair. This gives the characters the chance to nab the cleric and discover the password that permits them to enter the warded area without damage. Also, the characters might coerce the cleric into revealing that there is an area not warded against teleport within the lair proper. The BBEG uses this secret area for its own movement via planar means. Thus, after a side adventure, the characters have not only earned more experience, they’ve defeated one of the BBEG’s key minions and discovered a possible means of taking the BBEG by surprise.

Best of all, the ranger still gets to unleash his undead-slaying prowess.

Tags: adventure design, Game Geek