d100 Additional Reasons the Wizard is More Than They Seem

Finding myself in the mood to write another d100 table, I went looking for inspiration amidst the accumulated heap of unfinished work in my drafts folder. I knew I had begun writing this sequel to one of my most popular post of 2016, but I had not remembered that apparently I’d abandoned it after already coming up with 99 entries. It seemed a shame not to pull the post out of mothballs and finish the dang thing.

It took a lot more work than coming up with a single new entry. By the time I finished my first editing pass I was down to about 70 that were worth keeping. None the less, the work is now done. Please enjoy it.

  1. Thousands of tiny bird wings have been sewn all over the wizard’s body. Slits in their clothing allow the wings to poke out, and enable wizard to fly with the speed and precision of a small bird.
  2. The wizard’s legs have been amputated beneath the knee, and fused to the backs of two Greyhound dogs. They control the dogs as extensions of themselves, and are able to move incredibly quickly on their eight dog legs. Also, if need be, they have two bite attacks.
  3. The tail and stinger of a giant scorpion have been attached to the wizard’s spine, giving them a deadly poison attack each round.
  4. A quick flex causes the wizard’s arms to pop into the form of a Hook Horror’s hooks. They gain two nasty melee attacks each round, the ability to climb at half their normal movement speed, and to grapple as if they had two more hit dice than they do.
  5. After harvesting and ingesting the displacement glands from a Displacer Beast, the wizard now always appears to be about 3’ away from their actual position in space. This makes them nearly impossible to hit until the discrepancy is noticed. Even then, the effect is disorienting and grants them a significant bonus to their effective armor rating.
  6. The wizard has enslaved the ghost of another wizard. This second wizard has a second repertoire of spells. Essentially, this allows the ‘master’ wizard to cast two spells each round. The enthralled wizard is not happy about their situation, and will gladly take advantage of any disruption to their magical bonds.
  7. By making a habit of consuming the brains of other magic users, this wizard has made powerful improvements to every spell they know. Any spell they cast is more effective than it would be in the hands of other casters. As an example, if they were to cast Magic Missile, each one would deal d8 damage rather than d4. If they know Sleep, it can target twice as many hit dice worth of creatures as the base spell, and so on, and so forth.
  8. A cleverly engineered Teleport error caused this wizard to become fused to a demon. Thanks to careful preparations they were able to gain control over the new, shared body. This has given them the ability to summon other demons from hell to aide them whenever they need. The demons perceive the wizard as one of their own, but could potentially be shown the truth.
  9. By means of extra dimensional adhesive, this wizard has affixed the mind of a devil to themselves. This has granted them perfect legal knowledge, and the ability to trade souls for wishes. If you don’t read your contract carefully, you’ll find yourself giving the wizard your soul, and in the same line transferring your wish to them!
  10. The problem with good creatures is that the foolish ones are allowed to survive. There’s a funny story behind how this wizard tricked an angel into fusing with them, but it has given them the ability to perform healing magics, fly at tremendous speeds, and speak in a voice which requires a saving throw versus cowering in terrified awe.
  11. By offering to trade part of their soul with a curious elemental, this wizard has gained a strong alignment with a particular element: Fire, Ice, Wind, Water, Earth, Acid, Gravity, Nature, or other! Any damage which might be caused by whatever they’re aligned with instead heals them.
  12. Years taking their eyes out each night to soak in a distillation of god’s pain has given this wizard a gaze attack. Targets must make a saving throw or take 2d6 damage.
  13. Regular injections of basilisk tears grant this wizard the ability to keep one target paralyzed at all times. There is no saving throw against this. The wizard may change who they wish to paralyze at the start of each round as a free action.
  14. Drinking from an ancient bog has given this wizard a gaze attack which causes anyone they target to shrink to 50% of their current size. They can target the same person as many times as they want, reducing them by 50% each time.
  15. During a misspent youth, this wizard gained the ability to deal sneak attack damage. It applies to their spells, and they’ve likely made a point of creating some sneaky spell variants to best take advantage of this.
  16. This wizard served in the legions for years before turning to spellcraft. They have a martial prowess unusual to magic users. They attack as a fighter of their level.
  17. Born to frontierspeople, this wizard is as at home in the wilderness as they are in a library or ivory tower. They know how to forage, build tools and shelters, hunt, track, and survive in harsh circumstances.
  18. By trapping a Beholder’s ego in a jar (which is kept in a vault back home), they’ve turned it into a loyal servitor. It goes everywhere with them, and is completely loyal.
  19. Having once been observed by a broken god, this wizard is able to bilocate. They can exist in two places at once, with each instance being fully real and fully capable. They must merge back together in order to sleep. If one of them falls asleep, the other vanishes to merge back with the sleeper no matter where they are.
  20. An experiment gone terribly wrong has left this wizard mostly incorporeal. They’re still alive, and can even manipulate objects with their hands by flexing their wizardly will, but most touches pass right through them.
  21. This wizard is the absolute best dancer in all the world. No one can out-dance them. No one.
  22. Knowing when to be in the right place at the right time has enabled this wizard to collect a wealth of political contacts. If there’s anyone who doesn’t owe them a favor, then they probably owe a favor to someone who owes the wizard a favor.
  23. For many years this wizard was involved in a romantic relationship with a druid. That ended a few years ago, but the wizard still has the friggin’ encyclopedic knowledge of natural flora and fauna they memorized in order to impress their partner.
  24. Plants share a special relationship with this wizard. An erotic one. All of kingdom vegetabilis wants to fuck this wizard, and will do anything the wizard says will be pleasing. Trees will fall on the wizard’s foes, or vines will entangle them. Plant based poisons will not affect the wizard.
  25. A calculated disdain for oral hygiene has imbued this wizard’s breath with power. Anyone who smells it experiences a hallucination of their worst fears.
  26. Frequent abuse of form changing spells has allowed this wizard to merge themselves with stone or sand at will. Though they may still shape themselves into their human form, in actuality their body is composed of an intelligent muddy clay.
  27. In addition to being a powerful wizard, this person is also a landed noble with all the rights and privileges granted by that social station.
  28. On their travels among less magically aware peoples, the wizard has performed many spells, and convinces a lot of people that they are an avatar of God. These people obey the wizard’s every whim with religious fervor.
  29. When broken off, this wizard’s fingers will form into little gremlin creatures that look just like the thumbs from Spy Kids. The fingers grow back eventually, but it’s obviously quite painful for the wizard to do this.
  30. Whenever the wizard wishes, a ferocious house cat will leap out of the pocket of their robe. This is in all ways a real house cat, with no special abilities aside from being incredibly ill-tempered. The wizard is able to produces 20 cats in this manner each day. The cats never disappear, and must either be fed and cared for, or gotten rid of in some deliberate manner. The cats are only slightly friendlier towards the wizard.
  31. At will this wizard can tumble apart into four fire breathing goblins. They may claim that they were always four goblins in a robe, but this is just a goblin lie. If even one goblin survives they can re-form into the wizard, but the fewer goblins remain the longer it takes to reform. All four goblins could do it instantaneously, while a solitary goblin will require several weeks.
  32. The wizard’s experience of time is double normal speed. To them, the world appears to be moving very slowly. Because of this they’re able to take 2 actions each round, receive a +4 to their armor rating, and find most conversations painfully dull.
  33. This wizard is living their life in reverse. Each day they wake up on the day before the last day they lived. When they greet someone they say “goodbye,” and when they depart they say “hello.” They don’t remember any past encounters they may have had with the party, but they do remember the future ones.
  34. By pointing at a spot on the ground this wizard is able to make a fifteen foot deep pit appear there.
  35. By performing a bras d’honneur, this wizard is able to cause clusters of spikes to shoot three feet up from the ground. They’re made of stone, and quite sharp.
  36. By clapping their hands, this wizard is able to cause any two walls (or wall-like natural formations) to slam together with great speed and force. The furthest points on the walls must be less than twenty feet apart. Most of the time this action will cause significant structural damage.
  37. Any recently dead creature within 30 feet of this wizard automatically rises as an undead servitor under the wizard’s will. This includes common animals, people, and monsters.
  38. Long ago this wizard created ten permanent unseen servants. They’re with the wizard at all times, fetching tools, delivering messages, taking dictation, carrying explosives into the midst of the wizard’s enemies, and so on. If any are destroyed, they will reform under the next full moon.
  39. Great sloshing boils grow on this wizard’s chest and arms. They’re itchy and unpleasant, but if punctured they burst into a cloud of poison gas to which the wizard is immune.
  40. This wizard has no eyes, mouth, nose, ears, or hair. Their fingers are fused together, their skin is wet, and blue veins show through it. None of these features hinder them in any way, and grants them immunity to any harms which must be seen, smelt, heard, or breathed.
  41. Rubbery meat and bones allow this wizard to bounce when they fall, taking no damage. Bludgeoning instruments also deal no damage, and will likely bounce out of the attacker’s hands. Slashing weapons only deal damage if they roll in the upper half of their range.
  42. By soaking their hands each night in a lotion distilled from ghouls, the wizard has gained the ability to level drain anyone they touch.
  43. By replacing their own canines with stolen vampire fangs, this wizard has gained a bite attack, and the ability to drain blood to restore their health.
  44. Forbidden knowledge of the fourth wall allows this wizard to reach out of the game world to turn one rolled die to a result that is more beneficial to them each round.
  45. “Hacked” access to the mind of God allows this wizard to temporarily cancel out a single line from one player’s character sheet.
  46. Spreading out from the proper place of NPCs in the referee’s mind this wizard cant take control of the referee’s voice, and will encourage the players to revolt. Surely one of them would make a better referee than this weakling!?
  47. Beneath their robe this wizard is almost entirely mechanical. Only a few organic parts remain: their heart, hands, head, etc. They probably move on tank treads hidden by the hem of their robe. They cannot be critically hit or sneak attacked due to their unusual metal anatomy.
  48. This wizard has triple redundant anatomy. Three hearts, six lungs, three stomachs, and so on. Their hit points are likewise tripled.
  49. This wizard is able to prickle up like a sea urchin if they need to. Big ol’ metal spikes sliding out of their pores. They’ll probably be less willing to do it when they’re wearing their favorite cozy robes, though.
  50. By holding to a strict code of unusual sexual practices, this wizard has unlocked the ability to transform themselves into any animal at will.
  51. Any weapon which strikes this wizard transforms itself into a harmless object. A sword that would pierce their body might poof into a length of rope, a flower, or a pillow. This works for fists as well, so if you don’t want your hand replaced with a teddy bear, it would not be advisable to punch them.
  52. Strenuous vocal exercise allows this wizard to perfectly emulate any voice they hear.
  53. Incredibly strenuous vocal exercise allows this wizard to speak in a voice so booming it constitutes a sonic attack. They can easily start an avalanche or rock slide where conditions are appropriate, break glass or crystal objects, etc.
  54. This wizard has cultivated a commanding presence so intense that anyone who approaches within five feet of them must make a saving throw or be transformed into a servile gremlin. In this state they will obey all the wizard’s commands for 1 week, then transform back into themselves.
  55. Any damage dealt by this wizard has a secondary polymorph effect. Anyone struck by the wizard’s staff, fireball, fist, etc, must make a saving throw or be transformed into some harmless critter.
  56. A thick swarm of thorny bulbs orbits this wizard’s body. Any time the wizard is touched, or struck with a melee weapon, their attacker takes a small amount of damage.
  57. Once per day this wizard can transform themselves into a tree. In this state they cannot move for one hour, after which they return to their natural shape fully rested with all their hit points and spells restored. It has completely replaced sleep for them.
  58. By blinking their eyes in a very particular 10-blink pattern, this wizard is able to teleport back to the last place they slept. The ability functions only once per hour.
  59. A quick tug of their beard causes a bubble of protection to surround this wizard. While the bubble is in place they cannot move, attack, or cast complex spells. They can speak or perform other simple actions.
  60. By siphoning off a little of their own vitality (d4 hit points), this wizard is able to create a sort of temporary phylactery. If they die within the next 2 hours, their spirit will remain bound to their corpse. They can wait as long as they wish, then pop back into their bodies and return to life with half their maximum health restored.
  61. This wizard is encased in crystal. Their body is immobile, but the crystal floats around wherever they want it to go. Anything they want to say appears as text scrolling across the crystal’s surface. The crystal protects them from most forms of attack.
  62. In addition to their magical talents, this wizard has been afflicted with lycanthropy. Under moonlight they become a werewolf, or some similar creature like a werebear or wererat.
  63. Somehow, one of this wizard’s ancestors was a mole. This allows them to burrow through the ground rapidly, digging tunnels through the earth at roughly half their normal movement speed.
  64. This wizard has surgically split their brain in half so they can better work on two problems at once. Any saving throw against mental effects is made twice, and the wizard takes the better result.
  65. Within 30’ of this wizard, magic does not function unless it is magic they themselves have cast.
  66. A peculiar hand gesture allows this wizard to conjure and throw a sort of spectral lasso. If a character is caught by it, they’re automatically yanked rapidly towards the wizard, coming to a stop right beside them.
  67. This Wizard is just straight up Darth Vader. Obscure it so the players don’t realize it right away, but they wear heavy black armor, they carry a magic sword, they’re able to perform feats of telekinesis at will, they probably have a familial relationship with one of the PCs.
  68. A light shines within this wizard. It makes their skin glow faintly, and shines brilliantly from any opening into their body. They’re very visible in the dark, but have many ways of suddenly blinding their foes.
  69. Replacing their bone marrow with some taken from living trolls enables this wizard to heal rapidly. Each round they regain d4 hit points, and even severed limbs and heads will eventually regrow. The only way to deal permanent damage to the wizard is with fire.
  70. This wizard’s lower body has been replaced with eight octopus arms, with toothy mouths in place of suckers. In addition to giving them eight attacks each round (or one REALLY good grapple), this allows them to swim like the dickens.
  71. By a process of rapid soul absorption, this wizard is able to return to full health and full spellcasting capacity whenever they kill someone.
  72. Wherever this wizard goes, people hear theme music. It makes them seem crazy cool / intimidating to most folks.
  73. This wizard understands all communication on an elemental level. Even if it is a secret language invented 10 minutes ago, they will understand it instantly upon hearing / seeing / feeling it.
  74. Due to an awkwardly mis-worded Wish, this wizard lives each day of their life twice. The first time they live it normally, and the second time they live it with memories of the first time. You can model this either by simply running the wizard as if they’re aware of everything the players are going to say/do, or you might literally run any encounter with this wizard twice, one after the other. This does allow the players to also know what’s going on, but will probably be more fun.
  75. While you were going to parties this wizard studied the boomerang. Anytime they cast a spell which is misses its target, or is saved against, that same spell will “return” d4 rounds later. When it does, it gets the same chance to affect its intended target that it had the first time.
  76. Anyone who tells a lie or half truth in the presence of this wizard will immediately confess to it. There is no save. “No, I did not steal your gold. By the way, I’m lying.”
  77. This wizard has 2d6 forms, each with a distinct body and a life of their own, which the wizard can switch between at will.
  78. Anyone who touches the wizard must make a saving throw. On failure, they will be absorbed fully into the wizard’s body and remain trapped there until the wizard chooses to free them, or the wizard dies.
  79. This wizard is infested with parasites. Anyone who gets within 10′ of the wizard becomes infected as well. The jumpy little creatures are able to leap great distances to find a new host. Those afflicted with the wizard’s parasites receive no saving throw against that wizard’s spells. They’re also easy to track if the wizard ever wishes to find them.
  80. A failure to properly dot the i’s and cross the t’s in a contract with a minro devil has given this wizard a peculiar protection against any form of harm which does not directly lower their hit points. The wizard cannot take ability damage, nonlethal damage, negative levels, etc.
  81. A snap of the fingers allows this wizard to conjure any animal they desire out of thin air. They may only conjure one creature at a time. The creatures are trained, intelligent, and loyal, but are otherwise regular animals for as long as they exist.
  82. Anything seen or heard by this wizard is recorded, and can be replayed later via magical projections from their mouth and eyes.
  83. This wizard is something of a celebrity for their works of popular entertainment. Perhaps they write a series of adventure novels, or act in funny plays, or have a morning talk show. Whatever it is, they’re often recognized and adulated wherever they go. People like them.
  84. This wizard is a fairy. Perhaps they disguise themselves with illusions to look otherwise. Their true form is a tiny winged creature that’s able to dart about at incredible speeds, and is almost impossible to catch.
  85. When this wizard laughs everyone laughs along with them, and must make a saving throw. Those who fail will continue laughing even after the wizard calms down. They’re able to make a new saving throw every minute, and the laughing fit continues until they succeed. This ability only works if the wizard is laughing sincerely. They can’t force it.
  86. Moss grows across this wizard’s body, feeding photosynthesized nutrients into their body. So long as they stand in sunlight, they can cast their prepared spells without expending them.
  87. This wizard is a major historical figure who faked their own death so no one would realize they were immortal.
  88. This wizard has uncovered evidence that they will be a major historical figure. At some point in their future they will tumble backwards through time and live out the rest of their days in the distant past. If they are killed or prevented from doing so, the extant timeline will be undone.
  89. An absolutely obscene amount of experimental surgery has allowed this wizard to craft detachable limbs for themselves. Their arms and legs can be taken off as easily as a coat, and they have a whole wardrobe of specialized options to replace them with.
  90. Cybernetic implants for controlling an orbital laser have been installed in this wizard’s skull. The tech is janky and busted, so it takes awhile for the solar cells to recharge, but when they do it’s as simple as looking at what they want to melt, and blinking in a certain pattern.
  91. A doomsday device will activate if this wizard is killed. Perhaps it’s a huge bomb, or a virus ready to release into the water supply. If it looks like they may be in mortal danger, the wizard will definitely mention this.
  92. It is literally impossible to talk about this wizard without mentioning how sexy they are. For some reason they wasted a wish on this. They can be the greatest villain in the history of the world, but if anyone tries to say that they’ll find themselves saying: “They’re the greatest villain in the history of the world, but they do have a tuchus that just won’t quit.”
  93. This wizard has planted seeds under their skin, which grow into little plants fed by a wizard’s blood. They can be plucked for all manner of alchemical, medicinal, and recreation purposes.
  94. A gland inside this wizard’s bum secretes a white dropping, which the wizard uses to mark their territory. Other wizards become nauseated if they come within 50 feet of these droppings, and violently ill if they come within 30 feet. The lose potency only after several weeks.
  95. Fundamental cosmic statutes require anyone dealing with this wizard to abide by a strict code of honor. No lying, no cheating, no underhanded combat maneuvers. Attempting to defy this mandate is like trying to defy gravity. You can learn to work within it, but you can’t ignore it.
  96. This wizard’s eyes are able to look through solid surfaces with ease. For them it is as simple as focusing past the object, the way we might shift our focus between our own hand, and the horizon.
  97. Flammable oil pours out of this wizard’s sleeves at will. It comes out quite fast, and will continue pouring for as long as they desire.
  98. The longer this wizard stays in a given place, the [Colder / Hotter] it gets. They were raised in an incredibly [Cold / Hot] environment. One far outside the range humans generally consider habitable. They will be quite comfortable in the new temperature, but for most folks it will be intolerable.
  99. Whenever this wizard tells someone to “Stop being naughty,” they must make a saving throw versus parallelization. If they fail, they will find themselves suddenly and completely restrained by BDSM gear that appears around them as if from nowhere. It leaves them with almost no range of movement at all, and quite possibly stuck in some provocative posture.
  100. Whenever this wizard wishes to flee, they can reach into their pockets and pull out a fist full of valuable rubies to toss behind them. They are real, but the peculiar nature of this magic means they only come into existence when the wizard is trying to flee. If they reach into their pockets for any other reason the rubies will not be there.

Bangtail Class (Revised)

To be a D&D character is to be an undesirable. Someone for whom society does not care, and who must step outside the bounds of ‘acceptable behavior’ to survive. That’s why they’re willing to face absurd dangers; why they plunder tombs, and dare the mythic underworld; why the Thief is a quintessential class. Sex Workers are D&D as hell.

The Bangtail was originally published in April of 2016. I originally wrote it as a sort of reskin of the Thief, and I think I did a truly terrible job of it. I’ve had a player running a Bangtail in one of my games for a couple years now, and I frequently forget that they’re playing one. The original draft of the class so thoroughly fails to make any notable mark on the game. It needs a much more dramatic overhaul than the Bear in Disguise or Giftgiver did.

Bangtail

There’s a skill to being a courtesan. It’s more than just being good at doing a sex on the peoples what that give you a money. To be a true queen of the craft you must understand your own charms, and your quarry’s weaknesses. You’ve got to know how to draw them in, and how to keep them where you want them: in the palm of your hand.

Bangtails have a d6 hit die. They advance according to the Fighter’s experience table, and attack as a thief/specialist/rogue.

Saving Throws

The Bangtail’s work can be pretty gross. They’re regularly exposed to all manner of vectors for disease and infection, and have accumulated great stores of knowledge for how to protect themselves. The generally low regard with which they are viewed prevents their knowledge from being taken seriously, and has thus become a sort of ‘trade secret.’

Most saving throws are rolled as a thief of equivalent level. Saving throws versus Poison, however, are always one rank better than a thief’s would be. For example: a Labyrinth Lord thief’s Poison save is 14 from levels 1-4, then drops to 12 at level 5. A Bangtail’s Poison save would start at 12, and drop to 10 at level 5. (Which for the thief, does not occur until level 9.)

Life of the Party

Bangtails are skilled in a wide variety of party tricks and performances: singing, dancing, games, comedy, etc. At character creation a player ought to pick one sort of performance at which their Bangtail excels.

Sneak Attack

One can’t make it far in this profession without the anatomical expertise to make a person feel great pleasure or great pain. Because of this, Bangtails may Backstab as a thief of equivalent level. If playing LotFP, assume x2 at first level, and advancing one multiplier on every even numbered level.

Amorous Gymnastics

Flexibility and grace are an occupational necessity, and like all aspects of her craft, the Bangtail has raised this to an artform. The possibilities are broad, and intentionally left open to interpretation. A few examples of what a successful check might allow are:

  • Fit themselves into spaces that might normally be considered too small, and move freely in those spaces: easily slip through the bars of a prison cell, or hide in a briefcase.
  • Escape any manner of bondage, no matter how thorough.
  • Balance under even the most difficult circumstances.
  • Hang out of a window for several minutes before tiring.
  • Generally use their body in unusual ways, such as firing a bow with their feet.

Because Amorous Gymnastics overlaps with tasks often resolved by skill systems, and because skill systems are so varied, integrating it into a game will require some judgement on the part of the referee.

If the game allows all characters to gain and spend skill points, Amorous Gymnastics might be considered a sort of combination of different skills, available only to the Bangtail, and something she can put points into or not.

If the game’s thief equivalent is the only class that advances their skills, matching a thief’s progression in some similar skill might be appropriate.

Failing all else: check Amorous Gymnastics by attempting to roll a 5 or higher on progressively larger dice. A d6 is rolled at first level, advancing to a d8 at level 3, a d10 at level 5, and a d12 at level 7.

Fans

Fans are a type of hireling which are drawn to the Bangtail automatically as she levels. She may have a number of them equal to half her level, rounded up. They are particularly devoted, with each having a loyalty score of d4 + 8.

Devoted though they may be, Fans are not cannon fodder. They have placed the Bangtail on a pedestal, and may write her many flowery poems about being willing to die in her service, but they have their own wants and needs, and are not inhumanly immune to fear. If one dies, the Bangtail cannot replace them until the next time she levels up.

Charm

In games which use the 2d6 reaction roll as the “attack roll” of a social encounter, Bangtails receive a flat +1 bonus to all such rolls.

In games which use other social resolution mechanics, some equivalently significant bonus should be substituted.

Seduction

No two seductions are quite alike, and they depend very much on who the Bangtail’s quarry is. Seducing the drunk lecher may be as simple as the player saying they wish to do so. Seducing the devotedly attached and monogamous cleric would likely require a series of successful social encounters over many weeks. Seducing a skeleton may be completely impossible–or it may not.

If a system for seduction is needed, try this: for any given NPC roll 3d6. Drop the lowest if they ought to be difficult to seduce, and drop the highest if they ought to be easy to seduce. The resulting number is their resistance to the Bangtail’s charms. It is reduced by 1 each time the Bangtail makes a successful social roll against them, and at 0 they will be eager to find some place to be alone together.

Regardless of how it is accomplished, 4 hours are required for the Bangtail to thoroughly demonstrate the many delights to which she can inspire mortal flesh.

Once someone has been seduced, the Bangtail gains a number of boons with regard to them:

  • Social rolls made with a seduced person have a total bonus of +2.
  • Attack rolls made against a seduced person have a bonus equal to the Bangtail’s level.
  • If the Bangtail and the seduced person do not share a language, they are able to communicate as effectively as if they did.
  • The Bangtail comes away knowing d6 secrets the seduced person would not normally have revealed. The Bangtail decides what type of secrets they are, but the referee determines the specific information. (ex. “I want to know something that embarrasses them,” or “I want to know the combination for their vault.”)
  • The Bangtail comes away owning any one object they wish to take from the seduced person, so long as it is small enough to be carried. In the case of particularly valuable objects, the seduced person may regret their decision, and attempt to get the item back later.

How to run sex in games without making it weird

I once wrote a whole essay on this topic which I’d encourage you to reference if you feel conflicted. In brief, sex in games works just fine for most people so long as you keep three points in mind:

  • Sex in the game shouldn’t be about anyone’s actual sexual gratification. If you’re getting aroused, then you’re doing it wrong.
  • Describe characters having sex in the game the way you’d describe those same characters eating an unusual meal. There’s no need to ‘fade to black,’ but neither is there any need for a play-by-play.
  • People’s comfort level with sex in D&D varies wildly, and it should be easy to respect that.

Gift Giver Class (Revised)

I only got to playtest the Gift Giver for about 6 months back in 2016. We got a good sense of what worked and what didn’t, but I admit I wish I’d taken better notes. I’m sure there’s something I forgot in this revision.

The act of giving gifts was a huge hit, but for some reason the original draft hadn’t made it more the focus of a class that was literally named for doing it. Perhaps because it’s tricky to build a class around social encounters when no two people run their social encounters the same way. I’m not sure I’ve done much better on that front below, but I’ve made more of an effort. The class’s secondary powers also needed some expansion and punch up.

The Gift Giver

The Jolly Order of Gift Givers is a society of venerable men, women, and other folk noted for their generosity and good cheer. Upon induction to the order each Gift Giver is endowed with mystic powers in accordance with the Faustian bargain made by the Order’s saintly founder in time immemorial. It’s said to be the only truly successful deal ever made with the Devil. The contract (penned in the founder’s own hand) is contained in 14,823 volumes in a vault deep beneath the Order’s ancestral meeting hall. Priests and church scholars of every stripe have poured over the document for centuries and report a baffling lack of any sin committed either by the founder, or by those who take the Jolly Oaths.

Basics

Gift Givers have a d6 hit die. They level according to the Fighter’s experience table, with the attack modifiers and saving throws of a Specialist or Thief. They have no particular limitations for weapon or armor use, though given the weight of the gifts they carry they may become over-encumbered if they insist on wearing heavy armor. While not required, bright colors and bells are a sort of unofficial uniform for Gift Givers. Other members of the order may look askance at someone who dressed otherwise.

Though elves are not usually willing to become hirelings to anyone but other elves, they have a mysterious liking for these jolly old folk which gives them a +2 to their loyalty. Even the elves don’t really know why they feel this way. The Gift Givers do, but won’t reveal the secret.

Gifts, and Giving Them

At the outset of each new adventure the Giftgiver muse spend 25% of their liquid wealth purchasing gifts for others. Likewise, these unspecified and amorphous gifts take up 25% of their total encumbrance at all times. If the player chooses to abandon their supply of gifts for the extra carrying capacity, they will lose access to all class features (not just gift giving) until they stock back up.

A subtle predictive magic is at play when a Gift Giver goes shopping. They themselves doesn’t really know why they buy the things they buy, but in their travels they will invariably have the perfect gift for everyone they meet. Players are encouraged to be creative and generous in coming up with good gifts for every shopkeep, quest giver, and parleying monster they encounter. The only limitation is that it must be something that could be reasonably found, made, scavenged, or purchased in the place where the adventure began.

A member of the Jolly Order would never attach strings to a gift. To do so would sully the act of giving, transform it into an exchange or a bribe. That is not the Gift Giver way. None the less, gifts change the balance of most social situations. Folks generally feel an obligation to be friendly. They’ll usually want to make some kind of concession, or offer something they think is useful as a gift in return. Precisely how they respond is up to the referee, but unless they are a truly hateful creature they ought to do something nice.

The unexpectedness of what each NPC will consider an appropriate response to a gift is part of this class’s charm, and shouldn’t be over-mechanized. That said, it’s also a little wishy-washy, and may be difficult to wrap your head around. If need be, have the player roll 3d6 and add the higher two results together, resulting in a number between 2 and 12. The higher the result, the better the NPC’s response is.

Gift Givers are limited to one gift per person per year. That’s just how the magic works.

Gift Giver Magics

Starting at second level, and at every even-numbered level thereafter, the Gift Giver’s generosity has earned them a new magic power in accord with the ancient contract. Roll d10 on the table below to determine which power they gain. If the player rolls a power they already have, they may choose for themselves one power which they don’t.

None of a Gift Giver’s abilities are subject to magical resistances, such as anti-magic fields or counter spells.

  1. Gift of Entry
  2. Enchant Animal
  3. Sleepytime Kiss
  4. Treat Oneself
  5. Gift of Cold
  6. Time Stop
  7. Shrink Object
  8. Gaze of Shame
  9. Baleful Levitate
  10. Know Heart

1. Gift of Entry

By touching the outer wall of a structure, the Gift Giver instantly appears on the other side with a faint ‘pop.’ They may bring with them a number of passengers equal to their level.

The power only allows the character to enter or exit a discrete structure. It cannot be used to bypass interior walls or doors once inside. Gift Givers may only use this power on a given structure once to enter, and once to exit each day.

While not strictly required, it is expected that a Gift Giver will leave gifts in any building they enter in this fashion. If it were known that a character failed to do so, they might be summoned to make an account of themselves before the elders of the Jolly Brotherhood.

2. Enchant Animal

Herbivorous animals do not fear a Gift Giver. They’ll happily come up and climb onto the character’s shoulder, or nuzzle against them. Once this power is obtained the Gift Giver may enchant one of these creatures for every 2 levels they have. The animals remain enchanted until they die, or the Gift Giver releases them.

Enchanted Animals can speak, and fly, and will happily perform almost any task the Gift Giver requests of them. The one thing they won’t do is deadly violence. They’re happy to trip or disarm a bad person, but will do nothing that would deal direct harm. If the Gift Giver asks this of them, the enchantment is broken, and the animal will flee.

3. Sleepytime Kiss

By kissing someone, a Gift Giver can send them into a magical slumber which lasts for 1 hour. No saving throw against this is allowed. Sleepers cannot be awakened by noise or gentle physical contact. Rough physical treatment will break the spell.

A Sleepytime Kiss can not be performed in combat, or against anyone who is actively resisting the kiss. The target must either accept the kiss willingly, or be surprised by the kiss. A peck on the hand or cheek is sufficient.

Kissing someone who is already asleep will ensure they remain asleep for at least 1 more hour. Kissing someone multiple times does not add additional hours, it merely restarts the 1 hour countdown.

4. Treat Oneself

Gift Givers never know why they buy something. They simply trust the magic which guides their intuition. They know that at some point in their travels, they’ll encounter a person for whom each object is a perfect gift.

At some point their generosity is so commendable that the magics which guide them start to give something back. Unknowingly, the Gift Giver begins to purchase gifts for themselves. At some point during each adventure they may produce a single item which they now realize they purchased to aid them in whatever situation they currently find themselves in. Like the gifts given to others, these must be something that could reasonably be purchased, found, made, or scavenged at the location where they last stocked up on gifts.

5. Affinity for Cold

Weather cold enough to do harm to most folks is energizing to the Gift Giver. In such conditions they have the strength of 2 people, and experience the opposite of whatever hindrances most people face. If the weather is cold enough to deal d4 hit points of damage each hour, then the Gift Giver heals d4 hit points each hour. If the snow slows most folks movement speed by half, then the Gift Giver’s is doubled.

This effect also protects the Gift Giver from cold-based magical attacks. Against an Ice Dragon’s breath they would take half damage on a failed save, and no damage on a successful save. Against a sword with an extra d6 of frost damage, they’d only take normal weapon damage, etc.

6. Time Stop

Gift Givers have an uncanny knack for getting a lot of work done in the blink of an eye. The legends they tell of their founder say he was able to accomplish impossible feats in a single night. Contemporary members of the Joyful Order aren’t quite so skilled, perhaps because the powers are now spread across so many different people?

Once per day a Gift Giver can stop time for d4 + 1 rounds. During which time they can move and act normally. If a Gift Giver refrains from using this power for an entire year, they can gather enough power to themselves to stop time for a full d4 + 1 hours.

7. Shrink Object

In order to facilitate the ability to carry better gifts, the character gains the ability to shrink objects down to a more manageable size. This can be done to any number of objects, as many times per day as desired. The character need only touch the item, and it’ll shrink small enough to only take up a single encumbrance. Restoring the item to its proper size is equally simple.

Only inanimate material can be shrunk by this method. People and animals are immune.

8. Gaze of Shame

There’s nothing worse than the look of profound disappointment on the face of a Giftgiver. It crushes a person’s ego, makes them reevaluate themselves and their actions.

Gaze of Shame is only effective against targets who are not in combat against the Giftgiver, and can only ever be used once per target. Ever.

The weight of shame will cause the target to change their mind on a single issue indicated by the Giftgiver. What they change their mind to may not be precisely what the Giftgiver wanted, but in good faith the referee should make the target’s new position an improvement over their old one.

9. Baleful Levitate

With a waggle of their fingers and a polite barb about their target’s foibles, Gift Givers can cause one creature within their line of sight to begin floating. They may do this as often as they please, but their targets are entitled to a saving throw versus Paralyzation to resist the effect, and gain a +1 bonus to their save for each creature already floating.

Floating characters are repelled by any surface they attempt to gain purchase on. They drift erratically, unable to control their position. They can still act, but nothing is easy. For example, they can only attack people they happen to drift towards, and even then will never be in the optimum position, so their attacks are penalized by d10, re-rolled each round.

10. Know Heart

By fixing their attention on a person, a Gift Giver can know their innermost desires, and the nature of their character. This ability does not communicate the specifics of the target’s intent, plans, thoughts, or deeds. It merely lets the Gift Giver know what they want, and whether they are naughty or nice.

Bear in Disguise Class (Revised)

You might be surprised how difficult it can be to divide one’s attention between writing books and writing blogs. I’ve been working hard at bookmaking of late (have you seen my itch store?). I should probably fill you all in on that stuff, but first this place needs some damn posts. Over a month without an update makes me deeply uncomfortable.

A number of the new classes posted over the last few years are due to be revisited. Specifically the ones I’ve been able to play with, and thus gained a real sense of what worked and what didn’t in the first draft. There’s no better place to start than with an all-time favorite from way back in May 2016.

Bear in Disguise

As any sophisticated, sensible ursine knows, humans are ill equipped to deal with our kind. They are not stupid, per se, but they have narrow definitions of intelligence, civilization, and personhood. That we poop in the woods and prefer the taste of fresh fish to crushed weed-meal seems to humans an excellent argument for our lack of moral and intellectual agency. Yet credit must be given where it is due: humans have accomplished remarkable things despite their well documented lack of a soul.

Notable among these is their adventurous sensibility. There is a real ‘adventurer culture’ among humans. It is perhaps born of their inferior social structure which frequently produces problems that require extra-legal solutions. The social fabric of Bear Country is made of sterner stuff, but it does leave precious little opportunity for adventuresome youths to test their mettle. It is therefore not uncommon for a young bear to travel among humans for a time. Of course it is necessary to employ disguise to avoid agitating the creatures, but that’s a simple enough thing for any bear to do.

Basics
Bears in Disguise have a d12 hit die. They level according to the Magic User’s experience table, but their attack modifiers and saving throws advance as a Cleric. They have no special limitations for weapon or armor usage, but any clothing or armor they wear must be specially fitted for them by a skilled artisan.

Claw / Claw / Bite
Bears are adept unarmed combatants. During each round of combat they may make two claw attacks against a single target, and if both claws successfully hit they may make a third roll to attempt a bite attack. Damage dealt scales with level.

  • 1st Level: Claws d4, Bite d8
  • 4th Level: Claws d6, Bite d10
  • 7th Level: Claws d8, Bite d12

Knowledge of the Wilderness

Bears in Disguise begin play with maximum ranks the game’s equivalent of a wilderness survival skill. For Lamentations of the Flame Princess this would mean a 6-in-6 Bushcraft. If your game has more than one applicable skill the player should choose one, or divide their ranks between the various skills. If your game has no applicable skills, a simple understanding that bears know their way around the woods is sufficient.

Encumbrance

Bears in Disguise are always treated as though they are 1 step less encumbered than they are. When they are lightly encumbered, they may act as though they were unencumbered. When moderately encumbered they act lightly encumbered, and so on.

Disguise

The technique employed by Bears in Disguise defies explanation. Very little actually changes about their appearance, smells, or sounds. They don’t alter their face, shave their fur, or employ any illusory magics. It’s all body language and a nice hat. Even their voice is just growls and roars which, somehow, are heard as the common language of the creature they’re disguised as.

Humans are the most common disguise for adventuresome young bears, but they are technically capable of appearing as any creature with similar anatomy. A bear could disguise themselves as an orc, an elf, an ogre, etc. They could make an attempt at looking like a dwarf, but people would frequently comment about their aberrant size. Disguising themselves as a goblin or halfling is out of the question.

Good as it is, the disguise is not perfect. The first time any NPC pays particular attention to the bear there is a 1-in-20 chance they will percieve the character to be the ferocious wild animal they are. Everyone will think they’re crazy for saying so, but the NPC will refuse to have anything to do with the bear. They will likely flee in terror, or even attack if they feel cornered. Under most conditions this special perception check is only ever made once per NPC.

Altering the disguise is not easy. It requires at least a week of observation if the bear is not yet intimately familiar with the species they wish to emulate, and then several hours of meditation to shift from one brain space to another. Anyone who sees how effectively the bear can disguise itself as something new will get a second opportunity to see them as the ferocious beast they are. This time the chance is 50/50, and applies to everyone who knows the bear in multiple disguises. Even long time hirelings may not be willing to overlook the deception.

Fellow player characters will will never know their companion is a bear. They’re all assumed to have failed any chances they got at some point in the past. If they knew you were a bear, they’d never agree to party with you.

Grappling

Bears are natural grapplers, which is awkward to communicate given the vast disparity between methods of resolving grapples in different games.

At my table grapples are resolved by rolling pools of the participants’ hit dice against one another. So a level 3 fighter being grappled by two 1HD goblins would roll 3d8 against their 2d6. When using this method a Bear in Disguise grapples as though they have one hit die more than they do: two dice at level 1, three dice at level 2, etc. Given their d12 hit die this is a significant advantage.

In Lamentations of the Flame Princes RAW, grapples are resolved by opposed d20 rolls modified by attack bonus and strength modifier. If I were using this system I might say a Bear gets to roll 2d20 and take the better result, or I might say a Bear’s attack modifier is equal to a fighter’s for the purposes of Grappling.

Whatever method is used at your table the essential thing is that a Bear in Disguise is probably the best grappler that exists on two legs. They can be defeated, but it’ll probably take two or three common opponents working together to bring them down.

The Bear Code

Bears are strictly peaceful with one another. If a Bear in Disguise were to turn their claws against another of their kind they would be marked for death. The rest of their days would be spent worrying which shadows contained bearsassins, until one of them finally did. There is no process of appeal. It is the code of the bears.

If a bear is encountered by the party the Bear in Disguise may attempt to negotiate a settlement amenable to both. If hostilities break out they must either aid their fellow bear, or remain completely neutral. Even encouraging words to their companions would mark them a traitor, loathed by their own people for all time.

That’s the Bear in Disguise! Other classes you can expect revisions for are the Gift Giver, the Bangtail, and possibly The Action Hero. (Though, to be honest, that one worked pretty well. Not sure if anything needs changing.) I have had players roll up Possessor Spirits, Anti-Magic Clerics, and a Warlock, but those characters were too short lived to get much useful info on. If anybody else out there has run games with my classes I’d be delighted to hear about how it went.

New Class: The Beekeeper

Honeyed heroes. Wardens of the hives. Masked protectors of our buzzing pals. Beekeepers use a d8 hit die. They gain experience and roll saving throws as a Thief or Specialist would.

Beekeepers begin play with a special type of heavy gambeson, complete with gloves, boots, and mask. When not wearing this armor they lose access to any swarm control abilities they have. It’s the equivalent of leather armor against normal attacks. Against swarm type creatures it’s the equivalent of wearing pull plate and carrying a shield. The armor also grants a +2 bonus to any saving throws associated with harmful gas.

To be a true friend of the bees means being a superb dancer. At some point before play began the Beekeeper will have learned an intricate dance which allowed them to befriend a swarm of bees. The swarm now accompanies them wherever they go whether they like it or not. As the beekeeper grows to understand their friendly swarm better, they will learn new dances which each correspond to some specific instruction. The swarm is only large enough to follow one instruction at a time, though in some circumstances referees may opt to allow a swarm to be divided in half so that two instructions can be carried out with reduced efficacy.

At each level, including the first, Beekeepers roll on the table below. Each time a Swarm Instruction is learned it should be crossed off the table. In the event that the Beekeeper rolls a result that has already been crossed off, they may then freely choose one of the other abilities from the list. In this way the higher level a Beekeeper becomes the more likely they are to be able to choose the abilities they want. Though it is never guaranteed.

Swarm Instructions (Roll d12)

  1. Stinging Cloud – The swarm spreads out to cover a space with a 10′ radius in any location the Beekeeper indicates. Enemies within that space take 1 damage per round.
  2. Vibrating Death – The swarm clings to a single target indicated by the Beekeeper. Each bee vibrates, creating an incredible amount of heat. Deals 2d6 damage each round. If the target is larger than man sized, a single swarm can’t effectively cover it, and will instead deal only 2d4 damage each round.
  3. Hive Construction – With incredible swiftness the swarm can construct a hive of whatever shape the Beekeeper desires. Each adventuring turn they work allows them to create the equivalent of a 5′ cube.
  4. Second Swarm – The Beekeeper befriends another swarm, allowing their bees to carry out two instructions simultaneously. The Beekeeper can still only dance out one instruction per round.
  5. Communal Carry – By working together the bees can carry an impressive amount of weight. Roughly equivalent to one adult human.
  6. Buzzvoice – Precisely synchronized buzzing enables the swarm to produce a sound that is recognizable as human speech. They do not understand the language, and cannot use it to express their own thoughts or ideas, but they can use it to relay messages to and from the Beekeeper.
  7. Intercepting Cloud – The swarm spreads out to cover a space with a 10′ radius in any location the Beekeeper indicates. Any missiles or single-target spells directed into this space will be intercepted by a brave bee. The swarm is able to protect against a number of attacks equal to double the Beekeeper’s level each day.
  8. Bee’s Bounty – With great rapidity the swarm produces a great quantity of honey. Each 10 minute turn they could produce 1 bucket’s worth. The honey is sweet and nutritious, and soothing to many common ailments.
  9. Gummy Goop – With great rapidity the swarm produces a substance that looks sorta like honey, but is bitter to the taste and incredibly sticky to touch. In a 10 minute turn they can coat a 5′ square area in this substance, and anything which touches it will be stuck for at least 2d6 turns.
  10. Armor – The brave and noble bees rally around the Beekeeper, covering their body to protect them from incoming attacks. While shrouded by their friendly swarm in this fashion the Beekeeper’s armor class is equivalent to plate.
  11. Buzzlarm – The swarm may be directed to form a perimeter, and to buzz an alarm if anyone crosses it. The beekeeper can direct them to raise an alarm only in certain circumstances, so long as those circumstances can be communicated in a way that is understandable to bees.
  12. Stop Buzzing – The Beekeeper finally figures out how to get the swarm to uniformly STOP buzzing around them for a period. Turns out the beekeeper used to be pretty stealthy before a group of noisemakers started following them around everywhere. While their swarm is quiet the Beekeeper’s stealth ability is equal to whatever your game’s median stealth ability would be. Round up. (So: a 4-in-6 for LotFP, a d10 using Middle Road skills, etc).

Deadly Dungeons is now available in Print & PDF!

Do you remember my old Deadly Dungeons posts? Each entry in the series described a tricky dungeon room for the players to unravel. They were meant to ready to drop into most any dungeon, and novel enough to challenge even a seasoned adventurer. They were the sorts of puzzles that didn’t have a single solution, but rather gave the referee a sense of their workings so the could best interpret the results of their players pokings and proddings.

If that sounds interesting to you, the old posts are still available on the site. Or, if you’d like to read the updated and refined versions of all the original 28 rooms, as well as 12 entirely new rooms, I’ve got a book for you to buy:

Buy Deadly Dungeons in print on LuLu!

Buy Deadly Dungeons as a PDF on DriveThruRPG!

In addition to my writing and cartography, the book contains dozens of pieces of new interior art by my sister Roni Whelan, layout by Moreven B., and an absolutely gorgeous cover by Ian Hagen. For real, look at this thing. It’s way too good for me:

I’d love to have Ian make covers for more of my books in the future, but I’m fairly certain that once this cover gets out there I’ll never be able to afford him again. He’s going to be buried under new commissions. This dude’s talent needs to be recognized.

As is my wont, I created a bunch of goofy image edits to help promote the book on social media. Here’s a gallery of them if you’re a fan of hacky GIMPwork:

Thoughts on “The Financier” by Daniel Dean

The Financier is a phenomenal little class recently posted over on Basic Red. The idea is that you’re the wastrel offspring of some far off nobility. Too pampered to be any use on an adventure. Your main ability is to spend money on the rest of the party, and to gather a cabal of attaches which grows as you level. The usefulness of these varies, which is perfect. The class seems designed to be halfway between help and handicap for the rest of the party. I’m itching to play one.

I’m curious how the resources of the class would play at the table. 1000 money is certainly way more than most parties have to start with, but it’s also not enough to fully equip the party in the best mundane gear. Depending on where you get your gear prices from a set of plate mail might cost 450 (LL), 1,000 (LotFP), 1,200 (DCC). You’ll definitely need to make intelligent choices. I like that, but I also feel like this is something I’d want to tinker with after playtesting it a bit. Striking the balance between rich enough to open up interesting new possibilities, but poor enough to force intelligent choices is going to be a tricky balance to strike. One that will be particular to each campaign’s economy.

I really like the idea that the Financier allows the party to bring siege weapons to bear against dungeon problems. “If you think a catapult would help, I can buy us a catapult.” That sorta thing. Not in the first adventure, but once they’ve got a few treasure hauls and had their wealth doubled that would be a fun way to take things.

John Salway & Jesse Cox on g+ have already suggested the addition of a Lawyer attache. Someone who could whip up contracts and help smooth over legal troubles. I’d like to further suggest:

Tame Philosopher: Educated enough to make any nonsense sound deep. Their primary role is to have conversations with the financier that make their employer feel smart. Once per level the Financier may roll an intelligence check as if they had 18 in that ability. The Tame Philosopher may be deployed to distract any faux-intellectuals the party comes across.

Groom: Tends to any animals the party has brought with them. Keeps them properly fed, trained, and presentable. Any rolls that would normally be made to direct these creatures gain a bonus of 1. Creatures may learn 1 more trick than normally allowed.

Priest: A spiritual advisor to the Financier, whose primary job is to theologically justify their actions. Their presence makes the Financier immune to guilt.

I’d also explicitly note that these attendants can’t be left behind. They go wherever the Financier goes, making all sorts of racket.


Gourd Growths

Everyone who spends time near the River Stush has to deal with them. They are the price locals pay for rich soil and plentiful fishing. A nuisance, yes, but no more so than floods, earthquakes, malaria, or any other objectively terrible thing humans have gotten used to. The few who die are mourned, but their loss is made up for by the complete absence of famine from living memory.

The growths root deeply in muscle before the “fruit” appears. It has a hard outer skin, and squishy, yellow-green flesh within, hence the name. They cause a deep aching pain in the body, which can be managed by clipping the growths each morning to keep them small. They’re sensitive enough that clipping is extremely painful, but leaving them unclipped for even a few days allows them to grow to an unmanageable size. The baseline pain threshold of the locals has thus been set to inhuman heights. As far as they’re concerned, outlanders are all pansies.

New growths appear now and again, a few inches apart. They mostly grow on the back, belly, and the upper half of the arms and legs. Removing them completely is a difficult and dangerous process, but necessary for those who’ve got too many sprouts, or whose growths have migrated to an area where they may do serious damage, such as the chest, hands, feet, or head. Fortunately, there’s the River Doctor.

She’s a kindly old woman, well into her ’70s, traveling up and down the river with her tongueless apprentice and her bag of tools. She spends a few weeks in each town, removing what growths need it, and ensuring everyone heals up well before loading her river yacht with the grateful town’s foodstuffs,  and moving on to the next settlement. The trip back and forth takes most of the year. She disappears for a few months each winter before starting her journey again after the spring thaw.

It is lamentably inevitable that she lose a few patients each year. What doctor does not? She insists on keeping the bodies for autopsy, which everyone agrees is reasonable. No one is crass enough to question the saintly doctor. Before her, things were much worse.

In truth, the River Doctor has rarely ever lost a patient. The gourd growths are trivially easy to remove for anyone with the right tools and basic surgical training. No, the ones who “die” are simply those with the most promising fruit. In the bowels of her yacht are metal cages where the ‘dead’ are kept drugged and docile until the winter, when she takes her boat down the sea coast to the manse of the Mad Marquis.

Beneath this imposing cliffside villa is a dungeon where the growths are fostered in an ideal environment, clipped only when they’ve achieved a full and painful bloom. The Marquis enjoys them as a delicacy.  The enlightened mind can’t be bothered by the trifles of human suffering. If a good meal means turning people into immobile clusters of gourd growths, it’s a small price to pay. The Marquis even operates a small and secret market for other discriminating elites enlightened enough to share his philosophy.

Eventually the unchecked growths always kill their host, but not before producing one final fruit, which always sprouts from the top of the head. Pale blue in color, the Marquis believes it contains the victim’s soul. Whether or not that’s true, there’s no denying that consuming these blue fruits is an experience that defies description. One never quite knows what to expect.

A Second Look at Hacking, Clerics, & Socializing

Often, I write a post as a means of working through an idea for the first time. Forcing myself to explain the idea gets my thoughts in order. Later, the idea develops further through play, and within a few sessions the rules I’m using are markedly different from what I’ve got posted up on the blog.

This isn’t the worst thing. Blogs posts aren’t meant to be sourcebooks; they’re meant to be part of a community-wide conversation. None the less, it’s not ideal. I often want to post updates to older posts, which I don’t mind doing if there are a ton of changes to what I originally wrote, but seems like kind of a waste when the changes are less dramatic. As a middle ground, I figure I’ll address multiple old posts at a time.

Simple Socializing: The Give & Take System

(Originally posted April 5, 2017)

I’ve been tinkering with this approach to social encounters for half a decade now. As such, my changes here are quite small. The numbers have been tweaked by playtesting, and a few special cases are called out explicitly.

Attempting Parley

When a potentially hostile encounter occurs, the referee should first determine surprise. If one party surprises the other, attempting parley would require them to sacrifice that advantage.

Parley begins with the players making a social roll, which is 2d6 + any relevant modifiers (such as Charisma). This first roll determines 3 things:

1. The number of exchanges the NPCs will tolerate before they want to leave. The referee should write it down and tick off 1 for each back-and-forth that occurs. (“How are you?” “I’m doing well.” counts as a 1 exchange).

2. The disposition of the NPCs towards the party, determined by comparing the result to the first column of the table to the right.

3. The success or failure of whatever the party’s opening social action was.

Social actions fall into four basic categories: Banal, Give, Take, and Convince. Any time the players say something, consider which of these four it most closely fits in with. If it’s anything other than banal, it will require another social roll.

Banal actions are simple conversation: trivial questions, small talk, and other minutia. They have no chance to fail, and thus require no roll. That’s not to say they’re useless, it’s just not interesting for them to have a failure chance.

Giving actions are those where the party attempts to ingratiate themselves to the NPC. To make themselves more liked. It may take the form of telling a joke, offering compliments, giving gifts, or just listening attentively.

<8: The NPC is unimpressed.
8-10: The NPC enjoyed that. +1 to your next social action.
11+: The NPC likes you. +1 to their disposition.

Taking actions are attempts to get something out of the interaction. Specifically something the NPC may be hesitant to give. This roll covers things like negotiating an agreement, requesting aid, asking a sensitive question, intimidation, bribery, etc.

<4: You’ve upset the NPC. Disposition drops 1 category.
4-6: The NPC refuses you outright.
7-9: The NPC will meet you halfway.
10-11: The NPC agrees to what you want.
12+: The NPC agrees, and offers to do a little better than what was asked for.

Convincing actions are attempts to bring the NPC around to a viewpoint different than the one they currently hold. Used for making arguments or telling suspicious lies. These are difficult to succeed at, and risky to attempt. People don’t like it when you try to change them.

<5: Disposition drops by 1 category.
5-7: Disposition drops by 1.
8-9: The NPC is unconvinced, but not insulted.
10-13: The NPC is swayed, but needs some proof.
14+: The NPC accepts what you said wholeheartedly.

Social encounters are a many-faceted beast which defies being resolved by any simple chucking of dice. This system is not meant to dictate what a social encounter can be. Rather, it’s a baseline which can be adhered to or deviated from in whatever way serves the game best.

Just as they would with combat, the players should look for ways to gain advantage. The referee should imbue the NPCs with their own goals and desires. Penalties and bonuses should assessed where appropriate.

Basic Game Structure, & Hacking as an Involved Deviation

(Originally posted August 27, 2017)

I still like all the stuff I said about the Three Step Conversation and the difference between a Quick and an Involved Deviation. It’s just the hacking system itself that needs to be updated.

There are some minor tweaks to the numbers, and I’ve dropped a few elements that didn’t turn out to be useful at the table. The biggest change is to how failure is handled. The original alarms were too lenient, and assumed the party would always be afraid of their hacks being discovered, which often isn’t the case. If your’e hacking the computer in a long forgotten techno-dungeon, the idea that the hack will be discovered by the police a week from now is not anything to worry about.

Basic Computer Design

Computers have a security rating between 2 and 6 (inclusive) which indicates how difficult it is for a user to do something they’re not supposed to do. Optionally, the referee may want to prepare a list of what information or devices the computer has access to. Just as easily, this can be done using common sense fiat at the table.

When To Roll a Hacking Attempt

Unless players are using a personal computer or a public terminal, they’ll need to make a check just to log on. From here, they can access basic information about the computer’s systems, what it’s connected to, and what type of data is stored on it. Most of the really interesting stuff will require further hacking checks.

For example: reading someone’s personal files, downloading those files, altering the computer’s settings, activating a device connected to the computer, uploading a new program, erasing security footage. Each of these would require a new hacking check.

Making a Hacking Check

Untrained characters have a hacking skill of 2d6. Training adds additional dice to the pool up to a maximum of 5d6. When attempting a hack players roll their entire pool. Each die showing a face equal to or greater than the computer’s current security rating is a success.

Rolling no successes means the hack has failed, and the security rating is raised by 1.

Rolling a single success means the hack has succeed, but it was done sloppily, so the security rating is still raised by 1.

Rolling two or more successes means the hack has succeeded, and the security rating does not change.

If the security rating is raised to 7, the computer completely locks down and it becomes impossible to attempt any further hacking.

If the security rating was raised at all, it will eventually be noticed by whoever owns the computer. Depending on circumstances, they may be able to identify who the hacker was and seek retribution against them.

Special

Assistance: One player may assist the primary hacker by making their own hacking check against the computer’s security rating. If they get 2 or more successes, the primary hacker may add 1 success to their own pool.

Network Hacking: Attempting to access a computer over a local network increases its security rating by 1. Attempting to access it across the Internet increases its security rating by 2.

Lowering the Alarm Level: If the security level has been raised, the hacker may attempt to lower it by making a check against the current security rating + 1. Security cannot be reduced below its starting level.

Root Access: Hackers can attempt to gain root access on any system. Doing so requires four successes. Hackers with root access can perform any local action without making further checks.

New Class: The Cleric, as Anti-Magician

(Originally posted January 21, 2018)

Both my socialization system and my hacking system have undergone rigorous playtesting since I wrote them. I have a lot of hard data about how to make them better. Not so much with the Cleric variant I proposed early this year.  As I write this I’ve only had a single player use the class during a single session, and it didn’t go well.

Even before that, I knew there were some issues. Nobody wants to play the thing because it was originally written to be almost completely reactive. I was worried about making the class overpowered, and in doing so I made something nobody wants to play. The classic issue with the Cleric.

I still believe in the core ideas I proposed here, I just think they need some tweaking.

There is a divine music to the universe. Before the fall of man, when we lived each day in the light of our creator, we heard this music always. After we were cast out from the sacred garden we lost the ability to hear. The music still rings out from every sphere in the heavens, but it is beyond us now.

Through diligent study of God’s word, and meditation on the divine, Clerics have trained themselves to hear the faintest echos of that music. Hearing it changes a person. They experience reality the way God always intended for his beloved children. Their only desire is to hear more, and to hear better. Sin disrupts the music, and becomes hateful to the cleric. There is no sin greater than magic.

Clerics have a d8 hit die. They advance and make saving throws as the default cleric class does. Clerics cannot cast any spells. If alignment is used in your game, clerics must be Lawful.

Clerics have the following abilities:

Miracle: Once per week, per level, clerics may call upon God to aid them. The almighty will momentarily intervene in material affairs to do one of the following things:

  • Reveal a hidden truth.
  • Alter the cleric’s environment.
  • Heal a living person’s un-healable ailment.
  • Create an impressive spectacle

Think of it as a wish with limited focus and potency. Remember, also, that God is an NPC. God does not appreciate being treated as a class ability. Clerics are warned not to be trivial in calling upon The Almighty. God is never obligated to answer. The referee is the final arbiter.

Turn: The cleric confronts their foes with a brief glimpse of God’s might. The player should indicate a single target and roll 2d6, comparing the result to the matrix below

(Note: this ability affects all foes, regardless of type)

If the cleric’s roll is equal to or greater than the result indicated for their target’s hit dice, that foe is awed by the terrible might of God. They will flee from the cleric if there is an easy escape, or cower meekly if there is not. This effect persists as long as the target is not attacked, and the cleric takes no action aside from looking imposing, or turning other foes.

The cleric may turn as many times as they wish, so long as they are successful. If a turn attempt fails, the cleric’s mystique is undone. They may not turn this group of foes again today.

On the table, a result of “-” means turning is impossible. A result of “T” means turning is automatic. A result of “T*” means that any of the target’s allies with the same or fewer hit dice are also turned. A result of “D” means the target is destroyed by the unbearable glory of God, and that the target’s allies with similar hit dice are automatically turned. A Result of “D*” means that the target, and their allies with similar HD, are destroyed.

Dispel Magic: Clerics may force chaos to bend itself back to order by an act of will. Simply roll a d6. On a result of 1, the attempt fails; otherwise it succeeds. The magic is undone; it fails to activate or its effect ends. If a permanent magic is targeted (such as the enchantments on a magic weapon), then it is only suppressed rather than destroyed. It will return when next the item is touched by moonlight.

Anytime a spell is cast in the cleric’s presence, they may attempt to interrupt its casting by dispelling it. Doing so consumes their next turn.

Keep track of how many times each day this ability fails. If it equals the cleric’s level, the music of God’s perfect creation has become warped in their ears. They won’t be able to dispel magic again until they’ve had 8 hours to rest, and to pray.

For every hit die a Magic User has above a cleric, the failure chance of this ability increases by 1. So a first level cleric suffers no penalty against a first level magic user; but when dispelling the casting of a second level magic user their failure chance would be 2-in-6. Against a third level magic user it would be 3-in-6, and so on.

Referees may also wish to assess penalties for other types of magic. Those which are fundamental to a creature’s being, such as fairy magic. Those which are deeply rooted, or ancient, or unusually potent. It is left to the judgement of the referee, but this is meant to be a powerful ability. It should not be undermined to excess.

Identify: Thoroughly shutting down magic the way Clerics do requires a profound understanding of it. Clerics can determine whether or not a thing is magical, what the effects of that magic are, and even some obscure details like how long ago the magic was cast, and whether the caster was right or left handed.

This is not something a Cleric can do passively. They can’t walk into a room, and immediately point out all the magic items within. However, if they handle an object, look at it closely, smell it, taste it, and listen to it, they will gain an understanding of any magics attached to it. Discovering the magical properties of a thing requires 10 minutes.

Spell Resistance: Clerics have a chance-in-twenty to resist magic, equal to their level. 1-in-20 at first level, 2-in-20 at second level, etc. Any time the Cleric would be the target of magic, before any saving throws or spell effects are rolled, roll a d20. If the result is equal to, or lower than the Cleric’s level, the spell passes harmlessly over them.

This ability reaches its maximum at an 18-in-20 chance.

LotFP Class: Possessor Spirit

You are dead.

All in all, being dead is not so bad. It’s less “The End,” and more a change in perspective. When you were alive you hated the world and all living things because you were trapped in a horrible little corner of human existence. Now your experience is unlimited. You can go anywhere, see anything. You have a myriad of more interesting reasons for hating the world and all living things.  Eventually you’ll resolve whatever unfinished business binds you to this world so you can move on, and see if the afterlife lives up to the hype. For now, though, you’re putting that off so you can have some fun as a ghost.

Possessor Spirits advance as specialists, and share their hit points and saving throws with the Magic User. As ghosts they are completely incorporeal. They can neither be affected by the material world, nor can they affect it. This means they can pass through walls, and are immune to damage from non-magical weapons. However, they couldn’t make a grain of rice wobble if their afterlife depended on it.

When a Possessor Spirit is not attached to a physical body they appear as a monochromatic specter. During character creation the player should select the color of their translucent body: classic white, ghostly green, poltergeist pink; whatever tickles their fancy. They should also figure out what clothes they died in, since that’s what they’ll be wearing for the rest of eternity.

Despite their inability to affect the physical world, ghosts can still speak, as well as experience the world through their senses. They can feel the texture of an object, or taste a bit of food, but they cannot move the object or eat the food. Also, given how most people feel about ghosts, it may prove difficult for the character to socialize with outside their party. Some wizards or monsters might be comfortable having a chat, but most folks are very fleshist.

The best part of being a Possessor Spirit is the possessions. Just gettin’ on into people’s bodies and controlling them like puppets. It’s the best. Characters are able to possess one person, per day, per level. The target of the possession is entitled to a saving throw versus Magic to remain in control of their body. Their save is modified by the difference in hit dice between possessor and possessee. (For each HD the target has above the possessor, they get a +1 to their save. For each HD below, they take a -1 penalty.) If the save is successful, the Possessor Spirit is rebuffed. They take 1d6 damage, and cannot attempt to possess this target again until they level up. A failed possession attempt does not count against the spirit’s limit of possessions per day. If the target’s saving throw fails, the spirit takes control of their body.

While in command of a body, the possessor spirit gains full access to their host’s knowledge and abilities. Any skills, spells, secrets or powers belonging to the host are now at the disposal of the possessor. This open flow of information can be a double edged sword. The suppressed mind of the host gains equal access to the knowledge and secrets of the spirit which supplanted them. They may use what they learn to troublesome effect after the possession ends.

There are a few uncommon limits to a Possessor Spirit’s mastery over their host. Individuals with a heightened awareness of the spiritual world may recognize that a body has been possessed by a foreign spirit, and may even have means by which to cast the spirit out. Likewise, the host’s intimates may pick up on their friend/parent/lover’s peculiar behavior. Any conversation with such a person has a 1-in-6 chance to tip them off that something is wrong. The chance will increase if the possessor is not doing their best to act natural.

If a host dies while a Possessor Spirit is in control, both spirits (the possessor and their victim) are forced out. The victim’s spirit has a 4-in-6 chance of becoming an angry ghost which will return at a later time to seek vengeance for their demise. Otherwise, they pass on to the afterlife. In either case, their burning anger towards the possessor knocks the player character down to 1 hit point.

There is no limit to how long a host can be possessed. However, once a Possessor Spirit leaves a body, that victim will have a +2 to any save made against future possession attempts. This bonus stacks with each successful possession.