Hacking

This Bastionland Editorial was originally sent as a reward to all Patreon supporters, and is released freely on this site a week after its original publication.

If you want to support my blog, podcasts, and video content then head over to my Patreon.

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So this week's blogpost sure was a load of nonsense. As it's apparently backwards-week, I'll put the actual gaming material in the editorial instead.

As the blogpost alludes, I've been feeling the call of the primordial again. As a change from the one-page classes that I've previously worked on, I wanted to try a more easily digestible set of player options, first taking inspiration from the wonderfully designed classes of Old School Hack (first brought to my attention by Reynaldo here).

The below are pretty direct adaptations of the Original 3, aiming to strip away anything overtly mechanical to suit our Primordial needs.

New characters get the listed abilities plus a single talent. After a significant quest all characters gain an additional talent.

Fighter

Steely: You have the edge when fighting untrained combatants.

Talents

Scars: You’ve seen enough action to have an edge when trying to talk somebody out of, or into, violence.

Specialist: You’re particularly attuned to a single, specific weapon.

Lancer: Your charging attacks have devastating effects.

Brawn: You’re used to carrying heavy gear and throwing your weight into things.

Exploit: After engaging in combat with an opponent you’re able to notice a particular weakness or opportunity.

Magic-User

Veil: You can see the mark of magical effects and can leave your own, visible to those you choose.

Talents

Chronicle: With a few minutes of work you can find or recall a single important fact about any given subject.

Lullaby: Your voice can soothe the hostile and put the unwary to sleep.

Puppeteer: You can animate a few small objects, say enough that you could grasp and hold.

Portalism: You can speak to doors. They generally cooperate and reply.

Curse: You can lash out with a harmful effect or damaging bolt, but you always suffer something in return.

Cleric

Blessed: When you wear a representation of your faith you are offered some protection against its enemies.

Talents

Merciful: With a short ritual you can ease somebody’s pain and provide temporary invigoration.

Inquisitor: You can sense nearby enemies of your faith.

Wrath: You can imbue a weapon with divine wrath, but suffer a physical wound in the process.

Banishment: Your holy symbol repels enemies of your faith, and can destroy them when weakened.

Preacher: You’re very good at impassioned speeches and turning people to your point of view.

Non-Mechanical Templates

3rd Edition was the first version of D&D that I actually had the core books for, back in 2000. In fact, beyond my old copy of WHFRP it was the first RPG that I actually owned in print. While the system is far from my tastes, I think I'll always have some affection for the books themselves. 

A strange thing to look back on is the way that the three core books were each released a month apart. I picked up the Player's Handbook in August, the Dungeon Master's Guide in September, and the Monster Manual in October. While this staggered release seems like a strange decision now, it did give me an opportunity to explore every corner of that month's new arrival. Without a regular (or irregular) group at the time, I jumped at any opportunity to engage with the game in a creative way. That "lonely fun" that I keep hearing about nowadays. 

There was lots of character creation. Not so much the infinite-loop monstrosities of character optimisation forums, but usually level 1-3 characters that I hoped would make it to the table some day. Of course there were dungeons, sticking rigorously to the challenge rating system included in the DMG. But one of the parts that really grabbed me was the idea of Templates.

These were little packages of modifiers that you could apply on top of an existing monster, like Vampire, Fiendish, or Half-Dragon. I loved the wide open feeling of RPGs, compared to videogames and miniature games, and this was like adding another layer on top of that. Not only could I draw on this giant book of hundreds of monsters, but I could modify each of them into countless combinations. You could give monsters classes in a similar sort of way, but somehow it didn't feel the same. Sure, making an Otyugh Rogue is bonkers, but a Vampire Otyugh is bonkers and somehow feels completely right. 

I'm obviously a fan of jamming two ideas together to make a new thing. You can see this sort of thing all over D&D in various editions. Chaotic Good. Dwarf Ranger. There's power in these combos.

But, of course, it was all tied up in 3E's mechanical clockwork hell. Looking back now, they aren't quite the fiddly mess that I remembered, but there's definitely too much focus on giving a +4 here and a -2 there, rather than the core concept of "what happens when we make this Roper into a Fiendish Roper?"

Can we do better than fire resistance and darkvision?

As with so many things, we can be a bit more creative if we shift the focus away from mechanics, keeping an eye firmly on what's going to make for a memorable encounter at the table. Naturally this tends to call for a little more creative input when creating the monster, but I don't think that's too much to ask. At their best, I feel like they're just another opportunity to tie your encounters into your greater worldbuilding, and vice versa. 

HELLISH

Born or warped by Hell.

• Speaks Fiendish, and can make binding verbal contracts sanctioned by Hell's enforcers.
• Has a true name that can be used to summon them to the material plane, or banish them back to Hell.
• Has a specific vice and virtue that they are fascinated and repulsed by respectively.

MECHANICAL

Modified with inorganic parts.

• Significantly improved raw strength and resilience. 
• Unable to process emotion until it overflows in an outburst.
• Always in need of some sort of repair or new upgrade. 

SUNLESS

Changed by a lifetime in the darkness.

• Can see and hear through any amount of darkness, including around corners.
• Hungers endlessly, never full, can eat anything mostly-soft. 
• Hates light, warmth, and anybody that brings them into their world.

Vanilla

This Bastionland Editorial was originally sent as a reward to all Patreon supporters, and is released freely on this site a week after its original publication.

If you want to support my blog, podcasts, and video content then head over to my Patreon.

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Anne and Richard have both written about the idea of French Vanilla and, this week especially, I've been feeling that appeal. Essentially the idea is that a setting can work really well if you accept some clichés, do them really well, and include just enough twists on that recipe to keep things interesting.

Electric Bastionland was written long before I'd heard this idea, but there's a lot of crossover with how I wanted to have relatable anchors to every bit of the world. Bastion feels like a city, ideally your city of familiarity, but weird. Same for Deep Country, and even the Underground has some familiar elements for anybody that's ridden the Tube or their subway of choice.

But I obviously leaned away from traditional D&D fantasy tropes, while keeping some of the structure. Yes, you hunt treasure and find magical items, but there aren't orcs to murder, dragons to flee from, or elves to buy bread from.

So perhaps it's all the time I've spent in that world that leaves me craving a little bit of that vanilla. I picked up the Young Adventurer's Guide after reading Sam's post about them, which sent me back to the D&D5e core books that I'd forgotten I still had. I've complained about how the game runs too slow for me, and I don't like some of the design of spells, class abilities, monsters, the adventures don't really appeal to me and... well, lots of things.

But I've sort of blocked those things out for this readthrough. I'm treating the three core books like an expanded version of those Young Adventurer Guides, which appealed to me through their utter removal of anything resembling game rules. So I'm reading through with an imaginary black marker in my hand, slapping mental REDACTED bars over anything that tries to introduce numbers or mechanics. Under that method, I actually quite enjoyed it!

I like the way planes are described in the DMG. It actually got me a bit excited to try and use them.

I like the way monster descriptions are broken down into little subheadings so that you can almost ignore the text underneath. Sahuagin get Devils of the Deep, Way of the Shark, and Elven Enmity? Okay, those three things give me something to work with.

I even like all that character fluff like traits, ideals and flaws if you remove the inspiration mechanic that's attached to them.

So what, I'm going to run some ultra-light FKR D&D?

Yeah. If I can flesh out this idea enough, I think I might just do that. Like a pallet-cleanser after so long away from the table.

French Vanilla Sorbet.

Rules Heavy - Worlds and Classes

Lots of fantasy worlds rely on a sort of fairy-tale logic, often taking the form of absolute rules. Lots of these made the transition over to D&D.

• Vampires cannot enter a home unless invited.
• Minotaurs can never get lost.
• Hags always gather as a coven of three. 

Except these two, apparently. Maybe the snake is a witch? See how rules provoke interesting solutions?

You might have heard some of these before you even played an RPG, just through old stories. Then you get weird D&D inventions that bring their own rules. Stuff you could only really know from playing or at least reading about this game.

• Black Puddings split in two if hit with slashing weapons or lightning. 
• Sleep spells don't work on Elves.
• A Rust Monster's touch corrodes any ferrous, non-magical metal. 

I love these Absolutes in monster design, especially in comparison to more watered-down versions of these effects. In writing this post I was looking through the 5e Monster Manual and was shocked to see that sunlight merely causes a Vampire 20 damage (out of 144hp as standard) and disadvantage on some rolls. That's the same amount of damage it can regenerate each turn once it gets back into the shadows. I can feel the disappointment of luring the vampire into just the right spot before blowing a hole in their castle wall, letting the burning sunlight fill the room before... they are dropped to 124hp and run to the shade to recover. 

I'm not necessarily advocating for instant-dusting here, but this is a rule of the world that I'm trying to exploit here, and I want to feel like that was clever play! Maybe they get just one chance to escape or the sunlight pins them in place while they slowly sear. 

But I sort of want there to be a rule there. Not a mechanic like "take 20 damage and disadvantage", but a proper rule of this fantasy world. Vampires turn to dust in sunlight. 

See, I spend so much time talking about tearing rules off systems and throwing them into the bin, but I get the appeal of rules. There's a part of me that enjoys learning them, and I feel the satisfaction that comes with exploiting them to your advantage. But for me, the joy of using fictional rules to lure a Vampire into a track far outweighs that of finding two feats that synergise with each other to grant me higher damage output. 

It all fits into this Qualitative Design thing I've been going on about. I'm keen to try this out with an actual game now that I'm finally able to get some friends around a table, most likely something like this:

If your action is Unchallenged, then there is no need to roll unless you are pushing for an extra benefit. 

When there is opposition or risk to your action, weigh up whether you have an Edge. Generally this means you have the upper hand through careful preparations, innate capabilities, or specialist tools. If the obstacles or opposition facing you outweighs these, then you do not have an Edge. 

Roll 2d12. Keep the High die if you have an Edge, and Low if you don’t. Consult the chart for an answer to the question “Do I get my desired outcome?”.

Whatever the outcome, things move forward.

When you suffer harm you can Ask the Stars for the fallout or go with the narratively appropriate result. This is noted where appropriate and affects your future actions. 

Very FKR, I think. 

Talking about this is all well and good, but I wanted to put it into practice through character design, dipping into the idea of playbooks. Nothing new, of course, but I like the idea of giving each player a small, folded-A4 playbook that gives you rules of the world, rather than a new set of mechanics to learn. A wizard's should feels more like a spellbook than a rulebook. A fighter's might list the ins-and-outs of all those specialist weapons and manoeuvres that can be attempted. A rogue's might contain some actual exploits that your character knows about getting around the city, perhaps coming pre-loaded with contacts, secrets, and even tip-offs. 

And these are truths that might not be confined to your character. That same fighter can explain to the thief how a Warhammer is the perfect tool for the job in this situation, which might just give them the edge they need in the fight to come. Forget niche protection. Don't you want to share your cool stuff with your friends? 

There's some similarity with PBTA here, of course, but I think there's an important distinction here. PBTA moves exist in a weird limbo where some advice tells the players to never speak the name of the Move, but the name Moves lures you in like a big button you want to press. 

I want this book to almost exist diegetically (take a shot). This is stuff your character knows, or at least has written somewhere. 

So let's try this out with the Ranger.

Intro

A Ranger is a traveller charged with upholding the laws of the wild, but you know some tricks to exploiting them too.

The Laws of the Wild

• You have sworn to uphold the Laws of Beasts, Day, and Night. 
• These laws apply in any wilderness, even where it exists in small pockets. 
• Any that swear to the life of a Ranger can use the exploits below for as long as they uphold their responsibilities.

Laws of Beasts

• The territory of beasts must be respected - Studying a beast’s behaviour in secret reveals something about their surroundings. 

• The wisdom of beasts must be respected - By consuming a small piece of their diet and making them comfortable you can hold simple conversations with an animal.

• The strength of beasts must be respected - If you and an animal swear to protect each other, you begin to share each other’s senses and emotions.  This bond grows over time, with ranger and companion taking on traits of the other. 

Laws of Day

• Safe passage must be granted to those that mean no harm - While travelling through the Wilderness you can never be surprised.

• The land must provide for respectful travellers - While travelling through the wilderness you can always find a vantage point, hiding place, or food source.

• The sun must be granted its followers - You can strip some wood from a tree without damaging it. If you do so, the wood whispers something to you about the history of this place.

Laws of Night

• The night must remain dark - You can see in the dark in places rich with wildlife.

• The night must remain calm - You can move silently under starlight. 

• The night must be allowed to sing - You can mimic animal noises while under moonlight.

Necessary Slaying

Creatures that breach the laws of nature should rightfully be destroyed. There are numerous techniques to aid in this.

The Hunt

• If you have a piece of a creature, or sample of their leavings, they are easier to track. 

• If you witness a creature attacking another target, you are more adept at avoiding their attacks. 

• When you witness a new behaviour in an unnatural creature you may ask the GM a yes/no question.

The Kill

• If you have time to line up an attack from above your accuracy is near-absolute.

• If you witness a creature suffering harm you get a clue to its weak point. 

• If a creature begs you for mercy, you get a clue to the source of its unnatural evil. 

The Tribute

• Spilling a slain creature’s blood returns a spoiled environment to its natural state. 

• Preserving a slain creature’s heart grants a single instance of protection against its unnatural ability.

• Working a slain creature’s bones into weaponry grants an edge against similar monstrosities, but makes the weapon fragile. 

Survival Gear

You know of the following, but there are more to be discovered. You start with two:

• Wildrope: A strong rope that blends perfectly into its surroundings.

• Signal Daggers: Small blades that can be easily concealed, thrown with great accuracy, and always catch the sunlight.

• Wire Snare: A simple trap, strong enough to harmlessly entangle most mundane creatures.

Lots left open to interpretation, of course, but that's just sort of where I am right now. Perhaps my mood will change when I have to actually use these rules with other people at a table. 

I'd like to expand this with some extra sections with blanks left to be filled in. Perhaps the Ranger notes things they have learned from their travels in here. Maybe they even start the game with a scribbled map, encouraging them to fill the blanks as we go. 

There's nothing to stop other players from doing this, of course, but by putting those sections square in front of the Ranger player you're setting some expectations.

D&D Magic Supercharger

Earlier I wrote about applying Into the Odd's Decisive Combat to D&D 5e, so it's only fair that magic gets the same treatment.

Art by Luka Rejec

Into the Odd has Arcana/Oddities in place of Spells, but they fill the same niche. Weird powers that break the rules. They have a few major differences, though.

• They're tied to items.
• No level/class restrictions for use.
• They're often unlimited in use.
• Usually their effects "just happen" rather than calling for a Save. 

5e's Spells are pretty tame by comparison, but rather than a total rewrite you could focus on the final bullet point and make everything feel a bit more impactful.

Spell Supercharger

• Any spell that allows a Save to completely negate its effect now automatically succeeds. 
• If there's a complication (typically something that gives the target Advantage on their Save) the target gets to make their Save as normal. 
• Saves that allow the target to "shake off" the effect afterwards are applied as normal.

Balance

• Accept that this a super dirty solution and is going to mess up the careful balance of spell levels. 
• Cantrips are the real danger here, but I don't think it would be a massive issue at the table. The mild-option here is to keep Cantrips are they are but I can't bring myself to recommend that. 
• If you're worried about the boost in spellcasting power, remember it works for enemy casters too. 

Examples

Charm Person now automatically charms somebody as long as you're not already hostile towards them. The more interesting payoff here is that the target still knows they were Charmed by you, so you've got to brace yourself for the consequences of Charming a powerful individual.

Fear this works, because they still get their Save to shake it off when they get to safety, after which they're presumably coming for you.

Acid Splash d6 damage to two nearby targets isn't all that bad, smart opponents will break formation.

Unaffected Spell Examples

Sleep is based off hp, so no change here. There's still the chance that nothing happens here, but it's relatively low if you plan correctly.

Grease is an interesting one, because its primary effect is to coat the ground in grease, with the DEX Saves for anybody passing through happening as a result of that. I'd leave it untouched, as even if nobody falls over, your Grease spell has still had some impact on the world.

Finger of Death for cases like this where the Save is to avoid half the damage, just leave it as-is. It's a bit weird when you've got other spells causing auto damage, but this whole thing was always going to screw with balance.