LotFP Class: The Gift Giver

The Jolly Brotherhood of Giftgivers is an honored fraternity of venerable men and women, noted for their generosity and good cheer.

Upon being inducted, each Giftgiver is endowed with an array of mystical powers in accordance with the Faustian bargain made by the Brotherhood’s saintly founder in time immemorial. Said to be the only truly successful Faustian bargain in history, the contract (penned in the founder’s own hand) comprises 14,823 volumes. It is held in a vault deep beneath the brotherhood’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 being committed by either the founder, or those who join the Jolly Brotherhood.

Giftgivers gain experience and saves as Magic Users. Their hit die is 1d8.

At the start of each session, before anything else, the Giftgiver must spend 25% of their liquid wealth purchasing gifts for others. There is a subtle predictive magic at play in this process. The Giftgiver doesn’t really know why they’re buying the things that 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, questgiver, and parleying monster they encounter.

One point of the Giftgiver’s encumbrance is always dedicated to carrying gifts, no matter how many or how few they currently have.

The most notable power of Giftgivers is that they can effortlessly enter and exit any structure. All they have to do is touch the outer wall, and with the slightest popping sound, they will appear on the inside opposite where they touched. This power can only be used to enter and exit a distinct structure, it can’t be used to bypass any wall or locked door in the player’s way. Furthermore, a given structure can only be entered and exited one time each day, and this power does not allow the Giftgiver to bring passengers along with them.

Also, while it is not strictly required, it’s expected for a Giftgiver to leave a few gifts in any building they visit. If it’s known that a giftgiver failed to do so, they may be summoned to make an account of themselves before the leaders of the Jolly Brotherhood.

At every even numbered level, the Giftgiver may choose from the following list of magical abilities. Unless noted otherwise, there is no limit to the amount that each of these abilities can be used.

Sleep Kiss: With a kiss, the Giftgiver can send their target into a magical sleep lasting 1 hour. This action can’t be performed in combat, or on anyone who is actively resisting being kissed. The target must either be willing to be kissed (such as a kiss on the hand or cheek as a greeting), or caught by surprise. Kissing a sleeping target will ensure that they remain asleep for at least 1 hour.

Enchant Animal: Herbivorous animals within the Giftgiver’s line of sight become friendly. They will be as helpful as they are able, so long as the Giftgiver does not ask them to commit any act of violence. If the Giftgiver does that, the enchantment is broken. If they wish to do so, the Giftgiver can endow these enchanted creatures with the ability to fly.

A maximum of 1 animal can be enchanted for every 2 levels the Giftgiver has earned.

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 may 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.

Baleful Levitate: With a wave of their hands, and a polite barb about their target’s foibles, a Giftgiver can cause a target within their line of sight to begin floating. Floating targets are not restrained from acting, but any surface on which they could gain purchase repels them. It’s impossible for them to move intentionally, or to position themselves for an effective attack. Attack rolls made by levitating characters suffer a penalty of 1d10, rerolled each round.

Know Desire: By fixing their attention on any person, the Giftgiver can know that person’s innermost desires. This includes knowledge of what they are currently pursuing, though not necessarily how they intend to get it.

So, when speaking with a brigand, the Giftgiver would know that they desire “your money,” but not whether they intended to use force to get it.

None of the Giftgiver’s abilities are subject to any magical resistances, anti-magic fields, counterspells, or saving throws. They just work, always.
When Giftgivers hire a new retainer, they receive a +2 to determine the retainers loyalty if the new retainer is an elf.

D&D Christmas Carols: Damage Dice the Ref Rolled High

I have made a terrible mistake.

See, for Christmas of 2012, I rewrote the lyrics to Good King Wenceslaus, and performed the rewritten song in a YouTube video. I am not a performer, a singer, a lyricist, or a musician of any kind. Occasionally I go back and watch that video, and it’s a struggle every time. I am deeply embarrassed by every aspect of it. The performing arts are really not for me.

BUT, despite the deep shame that video causes me, it was a fuckton of fun to make. I’m always making up little songs and singing them at people as a joke. And taking it somewhat seriously, really trying to come up with interesting and consistent lyrics for a song that I love, was a fun project. And even sitting down to sing it was fun.

AND, this Christmas I’ve been thinking about how I’d really like to start establishing some traditions for myself. Things I do every year to get me in the spirit of things.

And, well…what Christmas tradition isn’t embarrassing, really?

At least this time I have the excuse of saying I wrote the whole thing in an hour and a half, unlike the lyrics for Dark Lord Wenceslaus, which took at least a week.

(To the tune of “Angels We Have Heard On High”)

Damage dice the ref rolled high,
causing PCs endless pain.
And the monster’s black-hole eye,
driving all of them insane.

(Refrain) x2
Ma-a-a-ake your save, Ma-a-ake your save, Ma-a-ake your saving throw. Or die in the dungeon.

Thief, please find what traps there be,
that our lives you may prolong.
What’s that colored gas I see?
Where’d that flick’ring flame come from?

Rise the horrors from below,
Hung’ring for soft player meat.
Plate armor won’t help you though,
Level drained in a heartbeat.

Down the cor’dor PCs creep
Trespassing a wizard’s home.
Conj’ring spells from hell-mouths deep,
Punishment from out her tome.

D&D Christmas Carols: Dark Lord Wenceslaus

This requires some explanation.

Much as I’d love to devote all of my attention to creative endeavors, I, like most other college dropouts turned artist, have a day job. Not the worst one in the world, but one that I find to be largely menial and uninteresting. Part of this job involves spending a lot of time in a warehouse, alone. I don’t mind the solitude–and in fact I quite like it. It allows me time to think which I might not otherwise find on a busy day. Many of the posts here on Papers and Pencils were conceived while talking to myself as I herd boxes.

Earlier this month, as I often do, I was alternating between humming and singing. This particular day, I was humming my favorite Christmas song: Good King Wenceslaus. It’s a great song which a lot of people, surprisingly, have never heard. Unfortunately, I only knew the first verse of the song, and I wasn’t even sure I had all the words to that right. So at my first opportunity, I printed a copy of the lyrics off the Internet, and began to teach myself the song.

Since committing the entire song to memory, I’ve sung it a lot. A lot. I’ve been telling people that my girlfriend is visiting her parents for Christmas right now, but in truth she said she needed to get away from my constant recitation of that damned song. And as with anything, if you repeat it enough, it starts to sound weird. About a week ago, the way I sang the first line; “Good king Wenceslaus looked down,” placed an unusual amount of emphasis on the “Good.” Doing so made it sound as though this was the good King Wenceslaus. As opposed to the not good one.

The idea tickled my fancy. On the spot I began to compose “Bad King Wenceslaus.”

You may wish to turn back now.

I’m going to warn you: a girl I liked once told me I had a nice singing voice. And despite the fact that no one who wasn’t trying to get into my pants has ever agreed with her, I still have a completely unjustified confidence in my singing ability. Flee while you can.