Showing posts with label 3E. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 3E. Show all posts

Wednesday, December 18, 2024

Mastering the Runes: A World of Warcraft d20 RPG Class Handbook Written in the Wrong Decade for No One

A wizened old dwarf chisels symbols of power into her ornate hammer. A defiant orc beats his fists together until his body is struck through by tattoos crackling with arcane might. A night elf knits herself into the thrumming weave of leylines underfoot in search of lost knowledge. A tauren gently coaxes life back out of a land ravaged by war and demon-fire, painted fur rustling in the breeze.

These people each come from vastly different walks of life in search of radically different goals, but they all share one thing in common: the art of rune-casting, that first and most enduring of the Titans' gifts.

They are all Runemasters, and their power is woven from the ancient magic that undergirds Azeroth herself.

Click Here for the Runemaster Handbook

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For a bit more context...

It's an old shame of mine that I still play World of Warcraft. It's not one of my worst shames—not even in my top 10 (which no, I will not be listing here)—but it’s still not something I'm proud of. For the record, my shame stems from the fact that my subscription money supports an abusive company and its despicable little overpaid executives, not that I still casually enjoy WoW; you should all know by now that I have dull, trash tastes.

Despite those misgivings, I’m still fond of the world of Azeroth. It’s by-the-numbers kitchen sink pop-fantasy done in a maximalist visual style and tone that evoke the feeling of "Fisher-Price toy set but for grownups", and it's been copied and emulated so much over the decades that it sometimes evokes Seinfeld-esque disgust for being so quaint and unoriginal nowadays, despite originating many of those styles, tropes, and moods. But it introduced me to online gaming and fandom in a way that has shaped much of the creature I have become. It gave me a hobby, friends and loved ones whom I still play with to this day, and perspectives I'd otherwise lack; I can’t not care about it on some level.

Fortunately for me, the kind of nostalgia I get for my earlier memories of Warcraft doesn’t involve me running Molten Core on a private German permadeath server for the millionth time or some such. Instead, it makes me turn toward the weird peripherals from the early days of the IP; the spin-off board games, the card game from before they came up with Hearthstone, the handful of comic books and novels I managed to read, etc.

And World of Warcraft: The Roleplaying Game is right at the top of that list.

The WoW RPG is the d20 tabletop port of WoW published under the Sword & Sorcery label, which included many properties during the early 2000s OGL craze that I call the 3E Gold Rush. It’s also the sequel to the Warcraft RPG, which makes it one of those rare instances where two editions of a game were both made for 3.5E rules, rather than one being made for 3.0E and the other updating it by +0.5.

Let's get it out of the way now that 3E d20 was never a good match for anything Warcraft. 4E and 5E came a little closer to capturing the feeling, but nothing short of a bespoke system made from the ground up would ever "feel" like WoW, and I doubt Blizzard will ever bother with that. But that's okay, because I'm happy to explore and fiddle with the failed attempt, and find everything about it that I like.

I should probably save the rest of the history talk for an actual blog post on the subject, and just get on with my point: I decided to kill two birds with one stone by turning this trip down memory lane into an exercise in good old-fashioned class handbook creation.

I have never made a handbook before in my life, and I don’t think anyone on the internet has ever written extensively on my subject here, so let’s bumble around in the dark together shall we?

Wednesday, April 24, 2024

Dungeons & Diablos: Past and Present Attempts to Port a Foundational Action-RPG Series to Tabletop

Dungeon crawling had existed in some form, traditional or digital, for a solid 20 years before the release of the first Diablo title for PC in 1997. It was a tried-and-true formula of exploring dank halls, killing increasingly deadly excuse villains, and acquiring loot and ever-greater power for your character. Sometimes you perma-died when you inevitably got unlucky, sometimes there was a save file or a cleric sitting at the table with you; the differences between crawlers were typically tangential to that core gameplay loop. When Diablo released, it changed none of those steps, yet still managed to transform the dungeon crawl genre of video games forever.

Functionally, there is no difference between what you're doing in Diablo and what you're doing in Angband, rogue, or The Keep on the Borderlands. Diablo differed in how it presented and delivered that dungeon crawling experience using procedurally-generated dungeon floors and items, enthusiastically shlocky, gothic fantasy visuals, fast and relentless real-time gameplay (for its time at least), and sound design calibrated to make your brain light up with good job happy time chemicals like a Skinner Box rat whenever a treasure chest opens or loot pops out of a boss's corpse.

When Diablo II released three years later, it took that formula and honed it almost to perfection. It gave you more monsters to kill, more characters and powers to kill them with, and more loot to get for killing them, all while crafting a story and a world that were pretty decent, even beyond their primary function, which was to exist in service of the gameplay loop. They were big hits, and they helped cement the long-ago tarnished pedigree of Blizzard Entertainment, who acquired the original developer Condor and renamed it Blizzard North shortly after Diablo I released.

You can learn more about the series as a whole from this very good and extremely long retrospective Noah Cladwell-Gervais released a few weeks ago, if you're interested. I've been playing it on loop for inspiration as I work on this. But that's enough parroting better writers than me for the moment. I'm here to talk about the interaction between Diablo and the medium of TTRPGs.

Video games and their tabletop predecessors have always been in conversation with one another, each influencing the other over the decades in ways that are often far more subtle and long-lasting than the uproar about D&D 4E being "MMO-like" that one time. So it's little surprise that eventually, somebody wanted to port the Diablo flavor of dungeon crawling back to the genre's birthplace in Dungeons & Dragons.

It's also unsurprising that no one has yet pinned down how exactly to do that.

Stuffed almost entirely into the year 2000, WotC and Blizzard got together to take several shots at a Diablo tabletop game, each slightly different from the last. They are weird artifacts of that liminal twilight era of AD&D 2E, sandwiched between the acquisition of TSR by WotC and the emergence of D&D 3E.

Dungeons & Dragons Adventure Game: Diablo II Edition: Fast-Play Game: The Bloodstone Tomb (Early 2000? Publication Date Claims 1999)

A mouthful of a title for a pretty small game, written by Jeff Grubb and Bill Slavicsek. This fast-play booklet is 16 pages long, including cover material. It was apparently packaged with certain copies of Diablo II the computer game on release, and served as an introduction to tabletop gaming for newcomers using Diablo as the hook.

The D&D "Adventure Game" is something that has popped up several times throughout history. Normally it is a very simplified version of the game rules packaged together with some dice and token or map pieces in a little boxed set, similar to the Starter Sets and Essentials kits of later years. AD&D2E got one, as did 3E- the latter with its orange box and several of the iconics flanked by a red dragon on the front was my first ever experience with D&D.

The Bloodstone Tomb is not that, however. It's a one-shot module that uses an even more simplified system, to the point that it mechanically does not resemble D&D. You don't even use polyhedral dice outside of the ordinary d6. The attack mechanic is 3d6 roll-above your character's to-hit stat, for example.

You can play 4 different premade characters for Bloodstone Tomb; Amazon, Barbarian, Paladin, or Sorceress. Sorry, Necromancer. You didn't make the cut. Each character comes on a card that has set ability scores, Life and Mana displayed in little bubbles that you can individually cross out, short descriptions and lists of equipment, and 1 or 2 skills inspired by the computer game. Barbarian can Bash for triple damage for 1 mana for example, or the Paladin can Pray to heal d6 damage from anyone.

The adventure itself is very basic: your party discovers the wreckage of a merchant caravan in the wilderness and follows the curiously bodiless blood trail to a nearby dungeon in the hills. There you fight bloodhawks and fallen ones to rescue the survivors from sacrifice. Six rooms later, you're left at a cliffhanger where you can journey down the stairs into pitch blackness and an unknown fate.

It's quick, simple, reasonably Diablo'y in tone, and easy to tackle for a couple of kids who got their parents to buy them an M-rated game. It actually plays a lot like a simulation of a "cellar dungeon" from newer Diablo titles. But it's not really enough to play a full game with. For that you need the full version of the Adventure Game, which is conveniently advertised on the back cover.

Dungeons & Dragons Adventure Game: Diablo II Edition (May 2000?)

The full version of the game introduced in the Fast-Play, that isn't really similar to the fast-play at all. Which strikes me as odd, because this version was also designed primarily by Grubb and Slavicsek.

This boxed set contains a full set of traditional D&D dice, a rule book, quest book, monster book, several dozen tile-based terrain pieces to arrange for your own dungeons, monster tokens, character sheets (including the Necromancer this time!), and a DM screen. It is much closer to a D&D Adventure Game this time around, both in contents and mechanics.

Diablo II Edition still uses pre-made character cards, but they look more like traditional character sheets this time. They track level and experience, THAC0, armor class, simplified all-in-one saving throws, movement rate (in squares), and magic item slots. They retain all of their Diablo-themed parts too, such as Life and Mana, skills, and somewhat curiously for a D&D spinoff, a grid-based inventory a la the computer game's backpack.

Characters have more than 1 or 2 skills this time. They start off with their choice of only one, but every level-up they may check off a new ability to use, up to a total of 4 out of the available 5 each. This is similar to how you acquire new skills in Diablo II, albeit without the cross-skill synergies or the option to add more points to a given skill to make it more powerful.

You also get a hit of loot randomization (and a reason for getting loot to begin with), which was absent in the fast-play. Whenever the random magic loot table roll results in a non-unique piece of equipment dropping (which is a solid 8-19 on a d20), you customize that item by rolling on a table for Prefixes, Suffixes, or both, which affect its stats and bonuses (or penalties). That hand ax might be an Iron Hand Ax of Quality that has a +1 to attack and damage, or that shield might be an especially unlucky Rusted Shield of the Vulture that decreases your AC by 1 and life by 1d4.

There are thousands of different combinations, which is a pretty good approximation of the dizzying numbers of items the computer game is rolling for behind the scenes every single second of play. The rate of loot acquisition might be slower than in the digital version of the game though, or else the session might slow to a crawl as your DM pores over the same couple of tables until their eyes bleed.

Other mechanics are far closer to D&D. You use a d20 for most things including attacks, ability checks, saving throws, etc. Weapons deal differing amounts of damage besides d6 for example, though they don't use variable damage vs Medium or Large-sized adversaries, which was en vogue in AD&D. You get better to-hit and saving throw ratings with each level-up, but life and mana are linear increases rather than random rolls or determined by ability scores.

The quests for Diablo II Edition are an odd mix of Diablo 1 and 2 themes and locations. The party starts in Khanduras, somewhere in the mountains close to the Citadel of the Sightless Eye, the headquarters of the Rogues sisterhood. This is almost identical to the beginning of Act I of Diablo II, except instead of being centered on the Rogue Encampment where Warriv's caravan is stopped, you find yourselves in the village of Waystruck. Here you are directed to most of your quests by the villagers and Delpha, a healer and seer of the sisterhood who is obviously a reskin of Akara from the video game.

What begins as a few disconnected quests clearing out dens of evil (but not the Den of Evil starter dungeon from the video game) soon gives way to larger plot: there is a powerful Overlord demon lurking in the pass, hunting down the infamous cleaver that once belonged to The Butcher boss beneath Tristram from Diablo I. If this demon, The Slayer, is allowed to take up the cleaver, he will gain all of its former wielder's power and in fact become the new Butcher.

That's a weird but kind of nifty bit of lore completely unique to this book, but it also just so happens to explain why The Butcher keeps on popping up in almost every single Diablo game to date: it's a title passed down among many demons alongside the weapon; a legacy character kind of like a big red cannibalistic Green Lantern.

Also notable is that starting here in the Adventure Game and going forward into all future Diablo books, you gain bonus experience points specifically for completing these quests, not just for killing things or stealing loot while doing stuff pursuant of completing the quests. It's a means of incentivizing satisfying narrative conclusions that video games had been using for decades, but which mainstream D&D was hesitant to try until it began experimenting with different kinds of progression starting in 4E.

The adventure is very oriented toward newbies to tabletop roleplaying, players and DMs both. It has ample sidebars explaining how to play NPCs, how to use the tables, and what to do if the party tries something unexpected- to the point that they have half a page dedicated to the contingency of one of the players panicking and murdering Delpha the second they meet because they think she's a ghost. 

Seriously.

All told, the Adventure Game is a novel and fairly even split between D&D and what you could expect to do with Diablo without automation. But it isn't a full game of either type, because the quests and progression track fizzle out at only 5th level. To have an entire campaign worth of content to hack and slash through, you'll need to buy the fuller full version of Diablo for D&D.

Advanced Dungeons & Dragons: Diablo II: The Awakening (Also May 2000?)

While writing this post I realized that what's going on here has a weird parallel with how early Basic and AD&D were envisioned by Gygax and some of the other folks at TSR: when you're finished with the simple game for babies, you're expected to "move up" and shell out for the bigger version of the game so you can play with the big boys. Except in Blizzard's case, it isn't being done to screw Dave Arneson out of his money.

The Awakening is designed with existing AD&D players in mind. There is far less space dedicated to teaching newcomers the basics of play, and more focused on if and when to use this product as a sourcebook that is in conversation with the rest of the edition. It even advises you on how to slot the challenges and character options of Diablo II into your group's existing campaign world, genericized into setting-agnostic chunks kind of like Greyhawk in D&D 3E.

Because of that concession—that this is a box of Diablo supplements for a diet consisting mostly of AD&D—the mechanical influences from the two games no longer have the same parity that they enjoyed in the Adventure Game version. It still tries to emulate the feel of Diablo, but it is AD&D first and foremost.

You can see this right away in the character classes, which are presented as kits for AD&D's base classes. Amazons, Barbarians, and Paladins are Fighters, while Sorcerers and Necromancers are specialist Mages.

There are no Druids or Assassins in The Awakening, which I think is the most lamentable part of the whole book. The introduction only references the story of Diablo II up to its incredibly rushed base game ending, with no mention of the events or added content from the Lord of Destruction expansion pack the Druid and Assassin are from. This is despite the expansion having been out for a good 6 months before this book released, suggesting to me that it was either finalized very early that year or that they just chose to omit them. Maybe they would have added them in a sequel book that never came to be.

A sidebar describes how regular Fighters and Thieves from AD&D can be slotted into the world fairly easily, although I don't know how well a Thief would do in the heavy combat emphasis of the game with no Diablo powers to draw upon like the above kits provide. None of the classes in the Priest group really exist in the Diablo setting, but you can force a Cleric to fit if you want to. The book makes this easier by putting some Paladin and Necromancer spells on the Priest list.

And I mean spells in the traditional, AD&D sense. Mana points and the abilities you spend them on are gone in The Awakening, replaced by a mix of nonmagical skills and good old Vancian spellcasting. Sorcerers and Necromancers use Mage spellcasting progression, while Amazons and Paladins progress as fast and as far as Bards with a small spell-list. What remained a skill and what got turned into a spell is a little arbitrary; Necromancers have Bone Armor as a skill for example, but Create Zombies is a spell. Barbarians are the only kit with no spellcasting ability at all, and bizarrely they can't specialize in weapons like Fighters or their video game counterparts, but they do get some nifty abilities like a self-heal, and a taunt ability that actually works half-decently.

Skills (and spellcasting progression, where applicable) are purchased using proficiency slots. Weapon or nonweapon proficiency slots can be used, depending on the skill in question. As was the case in the Adventure Game, skills are named after and inspired by the abilities you use in Diablo II. Each costs between 1 and 3 slots, meaning you can start with several at 1st level. It also makes Intelligence a really desirable ability score regardless of class, because bonus proficiency slots at 1st level are keyed off of Int. A Sorceress with even middling Int can probably grab 1 rank in every single skill on her list.

You can dump more than 1 rank into a skill if you want, as in the computer game. But rather than making the skill stronger, more ranks make the skill more likely to succeed: skills are activated using an ability check with an associated penalty, and every rank above 1st decreases that penalty by -1. Unless you use the optional rule to make it -3 per rank instead, because most classes only get 1 nonweapon proficiency every 3-4 levels, and spending it on such a tiny bonus to a single roll can feel pretty unrewarding in a game that is largely about pummeling you with rewards.

You can use more than 1 skill in a round, but typically can't use the same one more than once, and they often have internal cooldowns besides. Some of these are measured in rounds, others in hours, so you can't quite spam them like in the video game. Still, it gives martials a surprising number of Nice Things for AD&D.

The randomized loot tables are back and bigger than ever, spanning 9 pages and boasting over 1,000,000 combinatorial magic items (a word which the writers assure you does not mean "demon-summoning incantations"). The book throws some d40s and d60s at you in amidst the d20s and d100s, but it's nothing you have to use custom dice for.

The monster list is bigger too, over 100 total counting stronger palette swap versions of creatures, although each entry is truncated somewhat by taking a few stablock lines and making them universal for all monsters in the game.

I don't think they thought that one through, because this technically applies to everything including the completely ordinary wildlife of the world. It is slightly amusing though.

Also, one of the demon types is literally just named Balrog? And they printed that and used it in multiple games for years with no issues? I guess the Tolkien Estate was busy copyright hounding somebody else at the time.

At the end of the monster list, we are treated to a set of new mechanics that try to emulate the sometimes random and chaotic monster AI and pathfinding in the game: frontage, trains, and streams. If you've ever ran out of a packed Fallen den and heard their caterwauling and Rakanishu'ing coming up behind in spastic and random intervals, this is basically that, but reified into the game text.

Frontage is not a unique mechanic in and of itself so much as an acknowledgement that bottlenecking numerically superior enemy forces in a narrow area can be a good idea. Certain monster-dense rooms in Diablo I and II can be trivialized by standing in or next to the doorway and taking enemies on one at a time. Choosing to engage enemies in a constricted space with limited frontage can do the same, here.

Trains are what happens when a party engaged with monsters leaves the room and those monsters follow them out of the room. There is an 80% base chance that [total # ÷ 2d4 (round up)] monsters will start a train and pursue fleeing heroes, which can be bad if it's a serious retreat, or good if you're falling back to a place where you will have more advantageous frontage.

Streaming is when the monsters who didn't leave the initial room continue to send groups of reinforcements after the train, and have a 40% chance to start sending 1d4 monsters every 1d4 rounds. The force is greatly broken up and easier to manage in smaller chunks, but they become a constant, harrying problem if the group is trying to do anything other than stand its ground and grind demons into paste. Manipulating foes to train or stream into areas with limited frontage can greatly alter the dynamics of a battle in your favor.

Just watch out if anyone thinks to throw a fireball into that crowded hallway.

After all the lists of magic, items, and monsters, we are treated to a description of the main setting for the Awakening adventure...

Tristram.

Because despite this book being titled Diablo II, talking about the plot of Diablo II, and showcasing most of the classes from Diablo II, the actual plot of the campaign is lifted straight from the original Diablo. King Leoric has gone mad, evil festers in Tristram Cathedral, Griswold's still hammering away on his anvil, you can kill the Butcher again (again), and Adria is standing around pretending that she won't have world-shattering plot significance in a few years.

It's such a weird creative backtracking decision that tells me once again that this book's development was disjointed from the rest of Diablo II media. It was either finished way before the final game launched, faced some behind-the-scenes issues, or was consciously limited in the hopes of using the extra stuff in a sequel book that never panned out. I can't be that critical of the book alone for this, though. Diablo II the video game shipped barely finished, thanks to the legendary amount of rush and crunch its developers were put through.

As it stands, the book ends when you kill Diablo. The campaign conforms to the soulstone possession stuff from canon, but it doesn't include the Dark Wanderer as an NPC, nor does it ask any player to sacrifice their character to become the next vessel for plot significance. Instead a completely made-up fighter/thief adventurer named Qarak leaps into action to seize the soulstone just as Diablo is killed, having been hiding in the corner of his room next to his own dead party for who-knows-how-long using his invisibility armor. It somehow feels even more contrived than the next vessel being Aidan, the other son of King Leoric whom nobody namedropped or even acknowledged the existence of in Diablo I.

Weird and disappointing though it may be to me, hey, Diablo I is still a pretty good dungeon crawl to adapt to tabletop from a gameplay perspective. 16 levels of tombs, caves, and a section of Hell with a town and shop located conveniently on the surface is exactly like many classic roguelike games. The Awakening also adds Shrines throughout the levels, which grant buffs (or debuffs) to help keep the party in a flow state of dungeon delving and loot-selling for several sessions before they either hunt down Diablo or die horribly.

Speaking of dying horribly, there's a roguelite rule for that.

Perhaps I was unfair to say The Awakening is more AD&D than Diablo, because it includes the most video games-ass optional rule I've ever seen printed in a tabletop book. Death is common, even likely for a Diablo protagonist, even when they have friends. In order to take some of the sting out of TPKs and keep to the game's spirit of jumping right back in where you left off until you cleave your way through that one part of the dungeon, an optional Save Game rule is offered.

If the DM lets the party save their game, they are to set their character sheets aside and not touch them for the entire session. All changes to their characters, items, actions, kills, etc. are instead recorded on copies of the Adventure Tracking Sheet included at the end of the book. If the party survives their excursion and makes it back to Tristram, they update their sheets and save their progress. If they all die, the tracking sheets are torn up and the party restarts from its last 'save point', so to speak.

As someone who knows how important narrative can be to the flow and enjoyment of D&D, I understand that this hard reset option might feel cheapening and silly. As someone who genuinely hates tabletop character death and dislikes the naked corpse run Diablo II saddles you with, I also love the option being there.

For folks who don't like making things easier, don't worry: The Awakening also carried over the difficulty modes from Diablo II.

You can play on normal from levels 1-10, or you can play on Nightmare (recommended for levels 11-15) by upgrading some or all monsters with +3 HD/AC/Damage/Damage Dice Per Ranged Attack. If that's not enough you can crank it up to Hell difficulty (ideally for levels 16-20) where it's a +6 to the above. And if you still want bigger and beefier monsters, throw a second layer of Hell on top of the unique bosses for a total of +9 to everything. Naturally, this cranks up both the XP and magic item rewards you earn.

I think The Awakening is about as complete a mechanical port of Diablo II as one could ask for, barring figuring out how to implement the Horadric Cube or runewords or something like that. It's rough in places and missing some pieces, like its parent games, but it gets pretty close to what it set out to do. If Blizzard had an opportunity to go back and update it, I feel like they could have nailed it.

Dungeons & Dragons: Diablo II: Diablerie (December, 2000 for sure this time)

Orrr they could decide to go the Diablo III route and give existing ideas and concepts a facelift without fundamentally altering or improving upon them.

A few months after Diablo II launched, so did D&D 3E. With it came the waves of 3rd party books that earlier incarnations of the Diablo RPG actually preceded, but which the latest book, Diablerie, released right alongside. I've rewritten this paragraph several times now because I can't quite figure out where in relation to the 3E Gold Rush Diablerie lies.

On one hand, there's some amount of care and craft put into emulating the video game on tabletop. Not to the extent that the Everquest RPG went hog-wild with its books, but definitely more than some other d20 adaptations. But on the other hand, most of that craft is preexisting material adapted from the 2E and Adventure Game books, with relatively few genuinely new additions introduced for 3E. Does that make Diablo 3E a bit of a cash-grab? I'm not sure.

Diablerie (which is a pretty fun alternative to just saying 'devilry') is first and foremost an edition update of everything important that was in The Awakening. The 5 base classes are carried over (still no Assassin or Druid), their powers are a mix of spellcasting and mana-less active skills (renamed magic abilities so they don't cause confusion with 3E's skill system), and magic item tables were ported over virtually untouched, d60s and all.

Nightmare and Hell difficulties still exist- albeit here they're just a suggestion to beef up the monster list for a room with tougher creatures appropriate to the party's CR, rather than increasing existing enemies' stats by a prescribed amount. Which feels like a needless change that introduces more work for the DM. It's also a wasted opportunity to take advantage of one of the edition's new mechanics, because 3E was the age of monster templates and that's essentially what The Awakening's difficulty adjusters were.

The most meaningful gameplay change from AD&D to 3E in my opinion is the shift of abilities from nonweapon proficiency slots to level-gated class features. The Amazon, Barbarian, and Paladin get 6 tiers of abilities to choose from, virtually all of which require a full-round action to use, unlike previously. Each tier is a list of 4-5 abilities, of which you may only ever choose 3 before moving on to the next tier. Some abilities have prerequisites from earlier groups, so you're encouraged to map your character build out well in advance.

This bit of metagame is very true to the experience of playing Diablo II, where most practical builds for high-level play ignore huge swaths of character abilities in favor of a very specific path to power. They have to be this rigid because you have only 1 character respec available per playthrough, so no points can be wasted. You have even less recourse here in tabletop where there is no retraining option for characters, barring table fiat of course.

Necromancers and Sorcerers get only a few passive "mastery" type class features this time around, with the overwhelming majority of their power coming from spellcasting. Remarkably, that spellcasting has been significantly reined in compared to their AD&D counterparts; they only advance to 6th level spells, putting them more on par with the Amazons and Paladins of The Awakening, or Bards in core 3E. Those spells are still big and flashy and can deal a lot of damage, but the lack of 7th-to-9th level spells coupled with the naturally narrower spell lists available to Necromancers and Sorcerers means that there's much less of a power level gap between them and the martial classes than normal for a 3E game.

Another step toward fidelity to the game that I am far less thrilled about is equipment durability. Technically speaking, durability is already a thing in 3E if you really want it to be; most items and materials have hardness and hit points listed somewhere, and sunder experts are just a few feats away from ruining the group's wallets. But those are a collection of overlapping rules that don't have a lot of attention paid to them, normally.

Durability in Diablo is a whole bespoke system, meanwhile. Instead of having to be targeted by sunder attempts or certain AoE damage, you are constantly checking for equipment damage just by playing the game. Weapons degrade by 1 point for every 2 damage you deal above their hardness, while receiving a damage-dealing attack causes a random piece of your armor on a d20 roll to suffer damage at the same ratio. At 1/2 durability weapons and armor suffer -1 to damage or AC respectively, -3 at 1/4th, and they're completely destroyed at 0. Yes, items get 3x the usual hit points than in core D&D, and anyone with the Craft skill can attempt repairs during downtime, but it still strikes me as a time-consuming busywork mechanic, even more than it is in the base game since you can't automate it while conducting combat.

At least they recognized how annoying running out of Stamina in Diablo II is, and made the Fatigue rule optional. It's the exact same thing as the core game condition, except it prompts you to check for more things than the specific causes of fatigue in core, and it can be cured with 10 minutes of rest instead of 8 hours, or by chugging one of the many stamina potions you're likely to come across. But at the same time, this rule being optional highlights the artificial inconvenience of durability.

As I see it, the reason stamina and durability exist in video game Diablo (and plenty of other games) is to act as a resource sink or time-waster to slow progress and therefore extend the game's playtime and make it seem bigger and implicitly better. Kind of a "ludo-monetary" continuation of the logic that you need to do whatever you can to keep people standing at the arcade cabinet for as long as possible. This is opposed to situations where those mechanics are meant to act in service of value, tone, or realism. There absolutely are games that do accomplish that with the mechanics, but the Diablo series isn't one of them in my opinion.

Diablerie ends with another short adventure, Morgen Keep. It's very short, consisting of only 3 dungeon levels, putting it closer to the Fast-Play's bloodhawk lair in scope than the Waystruck campaign or the Tristram delve. But the two underground areas are dense and looping and full of dead ends, which feels just like a bite-sized Diablo II dungeon. The adventure ends with the party facing the demon Crushskull, who is guarding the magical Siegehammer, an anti-undead and -demon heirloom of the family that once owned Morgen Keep. He was watching it until more powerful demons could come to destroy it. It's the perfect gift for your group's aspiring Barbarian or Paladin, or alternatively a quest item to spin a greater plot out of- the rest is up to you.

Dungeons & Dragons: Diablo II: To Hell and Back (March, 2001)

It wasn't until the following year that we would finally get a full Diablo II D&D campaign that finally addresses the plot of Diablo II. To Hell and Back makes that long-overdue delivery. It also completes a pretty nifty split cover art piece with Diablerie that I didn't notice until I was writing this post.

To Hell and Back follows the base storyline of Diablo II almost perfectly beat-for-beat, so I won't go over each of the acts in detail. What I find more interesting is the ways the book tries to emulate the video gamey feel of playing through that campaign, by implementing a few mechanics that were absent in earlier books.

To start, respawns. Respawning monsters are a staple of farming in Diablo, and they've finally been added to the rules. Now no matter how many times you run through a particular area, it will never be demon-free for very long. Once a week as long as there are surviving stragglers, or once the party is wiped out, all zones in a region respawn their monsters. Which implies that the campaign world is meant to persist beyond a single group, and that this edition declined to carry over the Save Game rule.

Next up, waypoints. Those iconic stone circles with gently glowing blue lights that teleport you from major location to location within the same act made their debut in Diablo II. They are very handy for getting back to and then back from town without using up your supply of town portal scrolls. They also act as useful landmarks and points of reference to look for within the semi-random wilderness regions.

In previous books, scrolls and higher-level spells existed to bring you back to town, but the waypoint network was absent until now. Their presence can greatly reduce or eliminate travel time between completed areas, which as far as Diablo is concerned is empty downtime. They make it so the utilities of town are never far out of reach, but more importantly get you back into the action faster once you're done with them, giving more time over to dungeon delving or hunting through the overland maps for a new secret, unique enemy, or next waypoint to discover.

Those maps are also randomized this time around, or at least can be. The book gives very specific instructions on how to do this: get a pad of 8 1/2-inch x 11-inch graph paper with 4 squares per inch, then subdivide an 8x10 area into 2-inch square zones to populate with monsters and other random map features, with each square equaling 10' in-game. Make the map edges jagged, add impassable terrain like cliffs, trees, and insurmountable waist-high fences in between zones, plop the waypoint down somewhere, and the region map is good to go.

I like the idea behind this, although the execution feels a little claustrophobic and mismatched with the game. At 10' per square and 4 squares per inch, the entirety of the Blood Moor is an area of only 320'x400', for example. Combining all the outdoors zones in Act I gets you less than 12 acres (that's 0.05 square kilometers for most of the rest of the world).

That's absolutely tiny by D&D standards; an Amazon with a longbow could loose an arrow from one edge of a region map at a target on the other side at only -8 to-hit, and an unencumbered character could use the run action to clear that same distance in about 4 rounds. The book explains this away by saying that Diablo's influence has created general overcast and haze over the land, greatly reducing visibility and making it so that each encounter zone remains somewhat self-contained and separated from one another (with the aid of all those hedges and walls they told you to add, of course).

Personally I think that sounds like the Kryptonite Fog justification from Superman 64; a system limitation that the designers tried to give plot excuse to. It might have been better to measure regions in larger increments than 10' squares, or instead to approach outdoors regions via hexes or just a simple pointcrawl. Because as it stands, the areas of expansive wilderness meant to encourage wandering and exploration just feel like slightly larger dungeon floors- which is another moment where I think video game emulation is a detriment here, because Diablo II's developers had wanted to create a larger, more open world before all the technical limitations and player legibility considerations came into play later on in the game's development.

Gripes about specific rules aside, this is the most full and complete Diablo tabletop experience we have ever had, for better and worse. As I mentioned earlier, it did not go as far in its simulation as the EverQuest RPG for d20. But it did do more to distinguish itself than other 3E products would.

I don't know the reasons why the product line was discontinued, but had it not been I could easily see a Lord of Destruction splatbook coming out to finish up the plot and round out the class roster.

But this is not the last Diablo tabletop game we will ever have.

Diablo: The Roleplaying Game (TBA)

Late last year, Blizzard announced that there are a Diablo RPG and board game in the works. It is being developed by Glass Cannon Unplugged, a studio that seems to have board game adaptations of video games as its whole shtick, if the Apex Legends, Dying Light, and Frostpunk titles in their catalogue are anything to go by.

I don't know how transferrable board game expertise is to a proper tabletop RPG, but I'm curious to see what exactly they wind up making. It's confirmed that the game will use its own proprietary system rather than using something else like d20 5E, but beyond that we really don't know much about it. Press releases have been sparse and pretty buzzwordy since Blizzcon.

Apparently there will be an emphasis on fast combat with large numbers of enemies, as well as some kind of inner struggle that suggests a corruption mechanic or karmameter that would be new to the universe, despite how prevalent demonic corruption is in the story. They also seem to want to push the story and setting in new directions, rather than following existing games- although the branding and art style we've seen thus far are extremely Diablo IV-inspired, including a prominent image of Lilith on the website.

What I'm most curious about is why they're making a TTRPG and a board game. Will they be designed to play similarly? Differently? Can they share assets like character minis? Will they go for some kind of weird integration between the games like D&D has done with the Battle System or Warriors of Krynn over the years? I guess we'll find out more when the RPG's crowdfunding campaign starts later this year- because of course Blizzard wouldn't front the money for a project when they can just make their customers pay extra for it instead.

Unenthused as I may read, I do hope they do something worthwhile with this return to tabletop. I want to see how they continue to emulate the video games, or alternatively how they might move beyond them in a new creative direction. I loved the WoW RPG more than it deserved back in the day, and I still seem to have that susceptibility now. I won't back it, and I don't participate in the predatory monetization schemes of recent Diablo titles, but I too am touched by that insidious corruption we call hype. How cynically appropriate for a series about fighting demons.

Just gimme a dang Druid class while you're at it, alright?

Monday, April 15, 2024

3E OdditE: Dvati (Dragon Compendium, 2005)

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It's May, 2000. School's almost out, Diablo II is a month away from release, and the internet saw its first recorded use of the UwU face just a few weeks ago. The company that owns that one card game recently acquired all of D&D, there's a 3rd edition due later this year, and you aren't sure how it's all gonna work out.

Issue #271 of Dragon magazine slaps across your desk, and you set about perusing it. There's another rad piece of Mark Zug art on the cover, immediately followed by a two-page spread advertising that game Arcanum: Of Steamworks & Magick Obscura, which you're pretty sure is going to be even bigger than Baldur's Gate and Fallout combined. Then you get to the table of contents, decide you aren't really into all the puzzles and riddles the issue is centered on, and flip to the winners of the "Beastly Research" fan monster contest for AD&D 2E.

Talon Dunning (a heck of a name) of Atlanta, Georgia submitted not one creature, but two-in-one, or perhaps two-in-one-in-two: the Dvati people, who exist as pairs of twin bodies sharing a single, mighty soul. Dvati is both the name of the species, and each pair of twins: there is no singular pronoun in their language, because a Dvati pair is so indivisible. (Dva means 'two' in several West- and South-Slavic languages, as well as some others I probably missed in my research.)

In combat, Dvati are ambidextrous flanking experts who work in tandem with their twins in all things and have a weird befuddling echo-shout debuff ability. But they are rarely violent, preferring artistic and philosophical lives that complement their gentle and curious natures. Their slight and slightly alien appearances, particularly the solid-color blue eyes, are off-putting to many outsiders, but this doesn't dampen their friendly and outgoing demeanors.

It's a super interesting concept, but you don't have much to work with outside of the monster writeup, and eventually you move on to another Ed Greenwood update on whatever the hell Volothamp Geddarm is up to.

Fast forward to 2005. The world is, uh... different, but still recognizable in broad strokes, much like 3.5 Edition, which is going stupidly strong at the moment. They just released the Dragon Compendium showcasing a greatest hits list of its content from the past few years, plus some originals. A Todd Lockwood piece greets you this time, followed quickly by lists of races, classes, feats, and so many monsters and magic items.

In and amid this buttergoosetable of options, a familiar name catches your eye, this time heading a whole player species writeup instead of a more modest monster statblock:


The Dvati

The Dvati are among the few Dragon creations that got a 3E update, and the differences in the rules for how to play each are night-and-day, like many aspects of the two editions. The 3E version of the species also has so many fiddly bits that it's about as mechanically complex as some character classes, hence my interest in it as an OdditE.

The core concept of the species remained the same between editions: each Dvati is a pair of twins said to share a single soul, highly coordinated but preferring to put that power to use in enlightened pursuits. Of course, given how geared toward adventure and violence D&D is, that's the aspect of them most focused upon in their mechanics.

Their lore is given more depth here than in #271. They are made less explicitly Planescape by scrubbing the bit about most of them living in the Outlands, but their society is given greater texture. They are master artisans and denizens of small and somewhat insular communities, who govern themselves through a mix of direct democracy and deliberative councils. Their religion is highly dualistic, and features the otherwise unattested god Thelmeth the Unifier.


Dvati player characters have the following traits:

Medium size, 30' movement speed, humanoid type, etc. Pretty default stuff. They speak Common as well as Dvati, which requires 2 speakers at once to complete a thought, one supplying information about objects and subjects while the other supplies information about verbs.

Darkvision 60'. The best you can usually get without also being saddled with sunlight sensitivity.

Twins: The potential power of playing two characters gets reined quickly and severely in by making them count as a single character in key ways.

They share a single XP track, skills, feats, abilities, and class levels, meaning you can't make one twin a fighter and the other a wizard or some other mix without going through the chore of multiclassing them both. Both twins have to concentrate together to cast a spell, but otherwise it seems they can take other actions independent of one another- that part's a bit vague.

*Shower Thoughts Edit* I didn't even consider the ramifications that two characters treated as one has for itemization. Since a Dvati is one PC in many ways, I assume this also includes character wealth. Spell effects can be shared but gear cannot, meaning that you have to divide your WBL between each twin; cloaks, headbands, weapons, and every other wearable magical item have to be bought in pairs or else one twin will lag far behind the curve. That means they'll be even worse off compared to two other random adventurers.

The twins share a powerful psychic bond that allows them to communicate and check up on one another's vitals via telepathy at any range, even across planes. On the same plane, they can locate each other this way like a sort of psychic compass. Personal-range spells, as well as mind-affecting effects, affect both twins at once regardless of their distance apart. Imagine being miles away from your twin and suddenly you start having really fuzzy feelings for a mage you've never ever met until the charm spell wears off.

The mental bond intimately links their physical lives together as well, for good and ill- mostly ill. Dvati divide their HP pool between themselves, though they do get 2x HP from their shared Con modifier. When one twin dies, the other rapidly sickens and wastes away from an incurable, stacking -1d4 Con and Wis and -1 to most rolls debuff, either until they die or the twin is resurrected.

Most half-Dvati commit voluntary ritual suicide first, because life without one's twin is so abhorrent in their culture.

Echo Attack: When flanking an enemy, a Dvati can use a Move action to combine their voices into a disorienting cacophony to grant them +1 to attacks or AC against that foe for 1 round, subject to a Will save vs the Dvati's Perform (Sing) check. This is far weaker than the AD&D version, which was -4 to the target's to-hit for as long as the Dvati maintain the effect.

Pair Link: Flanking together gives the Dvati a +3 to attacks instead of the normal +2, and the Aid Another action grants a +4 bonus to a check or AC instead of +2. This seems to replace the AD&D ability that grants all Dvati 1 rank in the Two-Weapon Fighting Style and +1 attack per round when using paired weapons. Kind of a precursor to Teamwork feats of the Pathfinder days.

Spell Conductor: One twin can shift a harmless touch spell from themself to the other for the rest of its duration with a Move action, or as part of the spellcasting action. This would actually be pretty good for transferring combat buffs or healing spells from the caster twin to their melee counterpart who's in the thick of it, if it wasn't for the shared class level rules making that kind of redundant except in very specific emergencies like stabilizing a dying twin at range with a cure minor wounds.

Favored Class: Bard. Their voice tricks and the nature of their psychic link make them very good at duets, among other things.

LA +1: Because 3E was just as unbalanced as AD&D, but occasionally made gestures toward the idea of balance. Those gestures normally took the form of punishing interesting and unique abilities, or anything with a Strength bonus and no crippling drawback. This, coupled with the liabilities created by the Twins ability, feels like it really punishes the player for wanting to realize a very cool and compelling idea for an adventuring duo.


And I don't want that cool factor to be lost amid all the nitpicking: psychically conjoined twins is a rad idea with tons of gameplay and roleplay potential that I don't think the rules sufficiently provide for.

To contrast with all of this, here are the original Dvati PC rules for 2E in full (excluding the echo attack and two-weapon bits mentioned above):

Player character dvati can be fighters (up to level 16), priests (13), wizards (16), thieves (12), or bards (15). They enjoy the following multiclass options: fighter/wizard, fighter/priest, fighter/thief, wizard/thief, or fighter/wizard/thief. Additionally, all dvati are paired twins, meaning players who choose to create dvati characters must create two characters.

That's it.

You just make and control a second character with the assumption that the group and DM to be okay with that, instead of trying to split a single character up into two in such a way that ultimately makes them both weaker than the sum of their parts. For once in my life AD&D 2E—redheaded stepchild of modern gaming and the OSR movement that it is—did it better and simpler on the first try.

I find it interesting (perhaps a little telling) that while most species with art get showcased doing something badass or posing in a compelling or menacing way, the Dvati artwork up above depicts one of the worst moments of heart-wrenching tragedy and defeat that their people can experience.

I wonder if the artist realized how set up for failure Dvati are.

Saturday, September 23, 2023

3E OdditE: Ambient Tempest (Bestiary of Krynn, 2004)

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Dragonlance has a weird relationship with the larger body of 3E material, as well as the audience who engages with it. WotC owned the license throughout the entirety of the edition, but after one of many legal back-and-forths they handed the actual work of writing and publishing Dragonlance books off to Sovereign Press, the printing company owned by Dragonlance cocreator Margaret Weis.

Because of that technically-officially-licensed-yet-also-3rd-party status, all of the 3E Dragonlance books are in a weird limbo when it comes to whether people consider them "core" or not. You rarely ever see material from them referenced alongside other splatbooks on forums and in character build handbooks. Even other settings like Eberron were talked about far more often in similar contexts, although part of that was probably thanks to differences in sales and plain old popularity. This was the early-to-mid 2000s, and Dragonlance was no longer the same hot young IP it was in the 1980s.

As a result, I regularly learn about whole new classes, spells, and feats that I've never even heard of before cracking open one of the old Dragonlance campaign setting books for the first time. It's always a fun discovery, no matter how bland or broken or just plain weird the thing in question happens to be.

Today, I'll be sharing one such find.

The Bestiary of Krynn was originally released in 2004, but owing to the hefty amount of errata and cut content that it shipped without, a Revised edition was released in November of 2006. 3E Dragonlance books were somewhat notorious for their seeming lack of close proofreading and editing, which probably contributed to their lack of popularity online. At least the Bestiary got a second shot, unlike most others.

(And it really needed the second shot, because one of the class abilities we'll be looking at today was completely nonfunctional due to an omitted word!)

In the Bestiary we are treated to all manner of nasties and weirdos. This includes an unsurprisingly large proportion of dragon subtypes, but also some beasts, outsiders, undead, and a caste of goblins mutated by chaotic magic called the Gurik Cha'ahl. It also has a suite of monster-oriented Prestige Classes, as well as rules for handling a monster PC's initial rejection and possible acceptance by any humanoid communities they adventure in, which I wasn't expecting at all. Savage Species should have done something similar, in my opinion.

One monster PrC in particular grabbed my attention, because more than being for monsters, it's for anyone with enough primal magical power.

3E Dragonlance books were mostly set during the Age of Mortals after the Chaos War, where through multiple novels worth of machinations the dark goddess Takhisis used the cosmic battle with the gods' deadbeat dad Chaos to steal the entire planet of Krynn away from her siblings. All divine and arcane magic ceased to function for that approximately 50 year period, because even wizards are dependent upon the three magical moon gods for their spells on Krynn.

During this magical dark age, mortals rediscovered the ancient "wild" sorcery that comes from the land itself, rather than from the moons. Simultaneously, they drew upon the latent power of mortal souls to develop the more internal and spiritualistic form of divine magic called mysticism. In thematic terms they're remarkably similar to different aspects of Primal magic that we would later see in D&D 4E. In mechanical terms, the sorcerer is unchanged while the mystic is a new base class presented in the Dragonlance Campaign Setting that acts like a spontaneous cleric minus the heavy armor, undead turning, and 1 domain. Kind of sparse, but still a solid Tier 2.

Even after Takhy's plot was foiled in part by a time-traveling kender and most of the gods returned to the world, these new/old forms of magic continue to exist alongside their traditional cousins. The future is uncertain and bound to be rocky, but mortals are in a better position to steer their own destinies than they have been in ages- so long as those pendulum-obsessed rich kids they call gods can stop meddling in their plaything so much.

Delving deeper into either of these ambient forms of magic to unlock their hitherto-untapped potential is the specialty of the aptly-named Ambient Tempest.

Ambient Tempest

Unquenchable, unstoppable, and, er, unclothable.

The Ambient Tempest (AT) is a 5-level PrC with 1d4 HD, 2 + Int skill ranks in a modest list, 1/2 BAB, poor Fort and Reflex Saves, and 4/5 spontaneous spellcasting advancement. Between the sorcerer and the mystic, its basic chassis is closer to sorcerer. A melee mystic would get set back quite a bit by levels in this class, though its unique abilities might make up for it to some extent. Dedicated casters who are already trying to stay out of harm's way are mostly only looking at a downside of 1 lost CL.

Qualifying for AT requires 9 ranks in Knowledge (Arcana) and Spellcraft, two out of a selection of magical and metamagic feats, 3rd-level spontaneous spells from either of the above classes (or a weirder pick), and either a supernatural or spell-like ability or two more of the above feats. Mystics can qualify depending on their chosen domain's granted power, while sorcerers might need a bit more work depending on if the Familiar class ability counts as (Su) or not. Something like a dragon with innate magical abilities has the easiest time qualifying for this PrC, but PC species can potentially qualify by 6th level.

Unsurprisingly there are no online reprints of this or most other Dragonlance material.
So here's a screen grab of the table from the revised PDF. Shh, don't tell Hasbro.

The three big class features of the AT are Shifting Knowledge (Ex), Ambient Secret, and Spellshaping (Ex). Their theme is tweaking or breaking many of the usual rules for spontaneous casting, which fits well with the flavor of the PrC.

Shifting Knowledge allows the spontaneous caster to dispense with the once-at-4th-level-and-every-2nd-level-after-that rule for changing out their known spells for others, and instead change 1 spell/week with an hour of meditation as long as it's 2 spell levels below your max. While it isn't as freeing as other classes like say, the Spirit Shaman (Complete Divine) that can change their spontaneous list daily, it's a big step toward making sorcerers and mystics more versatile. With enough downtime you could redo most of your spell library, and I think that's an uncommon and neat ability.

Ambient Secret comes up 3 times during AT progression. It allows you to select 1 ability from a short list, most of which can't be selected multiple times as is standard for that sort of thing. The choices are:

  • Improved Metamagic, which allows you to ignore the normal rule that metamagic on a spontaneous spell costs a full-round action. I always wondered why that rule only existed for the less overpowered of all the full-casters, but wonky balance is part of why I love/hate 3E.
    • (This is the ability that I mentioned was unusable prior to errata, because instead of "a spell" it just said "a". Big improvement.)
  • Improved Shifting, which allows you to ignore the spell level limit on swapping spells in and out with Shifting Knowledge. Simple but good. Now your entire repertoire is mutable.
  • Metamagic Feat, which is exactly what it sounds like. You may learn any metamagic feat you qualify for, and you can take this more than once if you really want.
    • I'd personally avoid taking this more than once because you only have 3 secrets total.
  • Shifting Knowledge, which is named exactly like the other class feature for some reason. I would've gone with Expanded Knowledge or something like that but hey, I'm not the editor. It lets you swap 1 extra spell per week and can be taken more than once. This could be really good, or just kind of nice, depending on how varied the challenges you tend to face are.
    • My personal ranking puts this at the bottom—maybe tied with the bonus metamagic feat—below the other two near-mandatory secrets.

Spellshaping lets you just walk all over the normal rules of metamagic. With this ability, you can reverse your Enlarge, Extend, or Widen metamagic feats so that they reduce the spell's effect for a spell slot 1 level lower than normal. This is the first instance of reverse metamagic I've ever seen in 3rd Edition, and I love the concept. It gives so many situationally useful spells that much more utility, especially at higher levels when your lower-level spell slots start to pile up and feel less impactful. 

Imagine Narrowing a Fireball so that you don't clip your friends who are hanging around too close to the target, or Shortening all those combat buffs and debuffs that have durations measuring in the minutes/level, which rarely ever matters in a system where combat lasts less than a minute on average. It barely even feels like a cost, and that's before you get to the gravy of saving your bigger spell slots, or the hidden tech of adding one of these on top of a regular metamagic feat in order to modify its increased cost.


I've never wanted to play a sorcerer before (except for an attempt at a Greater Mighty Wallop build one time), but this PrC kinda gives me the itch to try. I'd probably opt for mystic if I was in a Dragonlance game, though. Playing a Stone-Teller of the Godless Folk would be too nifty to pass up.

You could bring in any other spontaneous caster for shenanigans, though. Imagine a spirit shaman combining daily list tweaks with the metamagic metagame, or using the Unearthed Arcana option for spontaneous clerics and druids.

Or don't, because that might be too much cheese. It won't be mozzarella nightstick levels of cheese, but at least a solid, rindy gouda.

Monday, July 3, 2023

3E OdditE: Urban Druid (Dragon Compendium, 2005)

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This series won't have very many class variants in it. There were just so many, and most of them change very little about their base classes. Which is perfectly fine for narrowing down the type of character you want, but it's not so much to write about unless I wanted to compile a list of them. Which I don't.

The Urban Druid is one big exception to that rule.

I only recently looked at this class for the first time precisely because of all the other variants and ACFs floating around out there. For the longest time I automatically assumed that the Urban Druid was just another one of those minor tweaks from Unearthed Arcana like the Whirling Frenzy Barbarian or the Thug Fighter- one or two modified class abilities to fit a slightly different take on things.

But when I stumbled across it while browsing dndtools, I learned that I was very wrong. The Urban Druid by James Jacobs is from Dragon #317 (later reprinted in Dragon Compendium) rather than UA, first of all. Second, instead of being a normal variant it's a complete overhaul of the Druid class that alters just about every single class feature in service of its new theme.

And it does that while still being nifty!


The Urban Druid

I'm surprised that Paizo link still works.

The Urban Druid is divorced from other druids despite sharing a fundamental principle with them. Whereas other druids value natural life, often favoring different manifestations of it like forests or oceans or what have you, urban druids see each city as not only a valid environment alongside all others, but as a single living organism unto itself. Civilization is opposed to nature, sure, but in the same way two neighboring biomes are opposed. A desert can swallow up grassland or a forest can dry up and expand over a bog, but one isn't inherently an enemy to the other.

The idealistic urban druid feels the same way about the city's place in nature. They may be opposed, but they need not be in constant conflict with one another. These manifestations of civilization deserve the same sort of guardianship as a grove of trees might receive, and that is where the urban druid comes in.

The mechanical differences are immediately apparent, starting with the equipment and skill list.

Much like a rogue, urban druids can equip rapiers, saps, crossbows, and short swords alongside druidic mainstays like the club and quarterstaff. They favor discreet weapons that don't draw attention or cause a panic in crowded city streets that may or may not have open carry laws.

They are limited to padded, leather, and studded leather armor, though notably they do not have a religious or supernatural limit on what kinds of material their weapons and armor are made from. Thus an urban druid can wear any suit of armor whose Armor Check penalty can be brought down to -0, even if the text says they should only have armor under  +4 bonus as a possibility (which is the first time I've ever seen gear proficiency gated expressly by number bonuses). Rock that mithral chain shirt, you miracle-hobo.

Urban druids gain a slew of socials skills to add to this faint whiff of rogue, like bluff, gather information, knowledge ( local), perform, and sense motive. They also lose their more nature-oriented skills like animal handling, knowledge (nature), etc. Personally I find the loss of spot and listen greatly lamentable, but the change was intended to make the urban druid more of a face character, and it accomplishes that- especially considering how important Charisma is to the urban druid.

Urban druids us Charisma as their casting stat instead of Wisdom. They get a whole new spell list that heavily features utility, crowd control, a little bit of charm and enchantment, and interacting with objects and constructs in a variety of ways. The list includes a few new spells, like Susurrus of the City, which allows you to ask questions of an empty building like it's a genius loci. That's what the big ol' brick face up at the top of the post represents.

The spell list also gets Repair Damage at every level, which was brand-new at the time of Urban Druid's original publication. Fortunately, they don't replace Cure Wounds spells. Urban Druids can also cast Repair spells spontaneously, replacing the base druid's Summon Nature's Ally ability. It's less powerful by far, but there are only so many places in a city you could pull a rhinoceros out of. Spontaneous Repair spells could be terrific if you and/or the party are Warforged, though.

The other thing thematically separating Urban Druids' magic from their more natural counterparts is where they receive their spells from. Normal druids receive their magic from nature, which bestows it upon them much the same way deities give clerics their spells. Urban Druids, meanwhile, gain their power by tapping into the spirit of a city. This living creature of streets and rooftops is a gestalt of all its citizens' hopes, fears, and dreams; a divinity of mortals' own collaborative creation that might not be conscious, but certainly isn't lacking in purpose.

I want so much more content delving into this concept. It's like an amped-up version of Shivers from Disco Elysium, or if the city of Revachol herself was a distant goddess.

From here, Urban Druid (UD from now on) class abilities can be divided into two categories; tweaks to base druid abilities, and full replacements for them. In the first camp we have City Sense, Disease ImmunityFavored CityUrban Companion, and Urban Shape.

City Sense is a flat +2 bonus to gather information and knowledge (local) checks. I've talked already in this series about how I hate class abilities that barely amount to a single newbie trap feat. It's not very exciting or useful. But it replaces the similarly uninspiring Nature Sense of the base druid, so it is what it is. Moving on.

Disease Immunity replaces Venom Immunity, because you're admittedly far more likely to contract a respiratory or waterborne disease in a populous, vaguely medieval city than you are to get bitten by a snake or huff exotic flower pollen. No notes.

Crowd Walk is the Woodland Stride of the concrete jungle (brick jungle? half-timbered jungle with a fading white plaster infill?). Except instead of not being slowed down by difficult terrain, the UD gets a +4 bonus to whatever check is involved when they're trying to pass through a space occupied by a hostile creature. It's basically the Mobility feat, except it extends to other things like making an overrun or tumble check. Better than City Sense, at least?

Favored City is exactly what it sounds like. It replaces and progresses similar to the druid and ranger's Favored Terrain, granting you a bonus in up to 6 cities of at least Small Town size or larger (according to the DMG). Favored City grants the UD a sacred bonus to bluff, diplomacy, gather information, and intimidate, making them even better at facing. It also gives them a decent +2 to Will saves besides.

Much like favored terrain, favored city can be handy or functionally useless depending on where you go in your campaign. A game that takes place entirely within a major city like Sharn or, gods forbid, Neverwinter, will see favored city activated just about all the time. Games where you're only in a city in between adventures make it more of an insult. I do appreciate that the ability extends across an entire city instead of just areas or neighborhoods, as I've seen with urban class features in other games. Pathfinder 1E, I think?

Oh, and did I mention that the skill bonus from favored city is keyed off of the UD's Wisdom modifier? The ability score they just dropped as the all-important casting stat in favor of Charisma? It wouldn't be 3E without a little bit of Multiple Attribute Dependence, I suppose.

Urban Companion is a modified Animal Companion that advances at the same rate, except the list of available companions is very different. They get the standard dog, pony, and snake options at 1st level, but no wolf, camel, aquatic options, etc. Instead they can pick things like centipedes, spiders, and rats. At higher levels instead of accessing an increasingly insane list of dire animals like dinosaurs and elephants, they get an increasingly insane list of giant vermin, animated objects, and just straight-up robots like hammerers or pulverizers. They can also get an otyugh at 7th level, which opens up potential for the municipal waste disposal druid of your dreams.

Like the change to spontaneous casting, the urban companion list is another flavorful downgrade. The list isn't bad by any means, and you can probably get pretty creative with animated objects. But the base druid wins out thanks to outside support: years of Monster Manuals and other splatbooks added to the list of animal companions and animal forms they can choose from. But as a class variant limited to a single magazine article, the UD gets no such love.

Speaking of animal forms, Urban Shape is quite something. Like urban companion, the animal options provided are extremely limited. You also do not gain plant or elemental forms at higher levels. Instead, to start off you can turn into any animal or vermin from the urban companion list, or any humanoid.

Now humanoids tend not to have the most powerful abilities baked into their species, nor would you be able to use them while urban shaped if they were supernatural or spell-like in nature. But this still allows you to turn into any humanoid you're familiar with. And with a +10 to Disguise checks from this being a modification of the Alternate Form ability, you can even impersonate individual people with this ability. You basically turn into a doppelganger for a few hours a day with urban shape. The synergy between that and an urban campaign with a Charisma-focused kit (not to mention the fact that you're still a full-caster) is spectacular, and I'm curious what kind of cheese you can age with this.

At higher levels, urban shape allows the UD to turn into an ordinary object (in case you've ever wanted to do a stakeout as a fencepost) or an animated object (in case you want to end said stakeout by staking somebody). Or, hell, just become the mimic house from that one internet copy+pasta. Again, the combat power level is diminished compared to base druid, but the flavor is kept to nicely.

And, honestly, it's still 2/3rds of a CoDZilla so the power drop isn't that much to worry about.

As I mentioned, the other group of UD class abilities are entirely new, rather than being modifications of existing stuff. They are Alley Fighting, and Information Network.

Alley Fighting is weird. It would fit way better on an Urban Fighter if such a variant existed. The UD gets a +1 to attack rolls in confined spaces, and ignores cover from attacking around a corner in melee. 

That's it. The bonus doesn't even scale with level.

The ability to ignore cover might be good if you maneuver and do a lot of ambushing, which is something the UD can pull off decently well in a city. It's still such a weird ability, even more niche than the rest of the variant.

Information Network on the other hand, is the culmination of the UD as a surreptitious guardian of the city with eyes and ears everywhere. The UD gains a network of informants who cut gather information checks from a full day down to a mere half-hour. Additionally, just about every event of interest that happens in one of their chosen cities will come to their attention within a matter of hours. This is the kind of kingpin spy network that rogues would have gotten, had 3rd edition kept the convention of every class founding some kind of stronghold at ~10th level. There's so much roleplay potential here, and I love it.


The Urban Druid was a very enjoyable discovery for me. It's a fun, different take on very familiar old mechanics, and it makes the idea of playing a game set entirely in a city slightly less anxiety-inducing to me, which I assure you is high praise.

I would have liked it if it the lore of the class supported them being part of the larger culture of druids, perhaps with a nod toward the idea of living in harmony with nature, but coming from the other direction than what we usually associate druids with. Because as it stands, urban druids feel weirdly divorced from their namesakes, as well as all other nature-themed classes, to the point that maybe it would have made more sense to call them something else and then in the description say in passing that they are "like the druids of the city" or something.

I dunno. I've probably been binge-watching too many urbanism videos on YouTube again. Now I want a base druid and an urban druid working together to create a nice green city with extensive parks, sustainable energy sources, and mixed-use zoning. Throw in a plotting NIMBY cult and you've got yourself an adventure.


Quick aside: I started this post by saying I wouldn't talk a lot about alternate class features, and I'm afraid I was kind of lying.

In researching the urban druid for this post, I came across an ACL from Cityscape, which is an invaluable resource (or maybe a terrible burden of knowledge) when you're trying to trudge through the crunchiness of an urban campaign in 3.5E. This ACL is Voice of the City, available to druids, rangers, and spirit shamans. It drops Wild Empathy in favor of the ability to communicate ideas to creatures whom you don't share a language with, and honestly I wish I could trade City Sense or Alley Fighting out for it. It fits the urban druid so well, even if its speak language skill is redundant with the variant's skill list.

Thursday, May 18, 2023

3E OdditE: Hexer (Masters of the Wild, February 2002)

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Quick; what's your favorite NPC class?

Mine is the Adept.

For one, it's the only NPC class that gains any meaningful class features, besides maybe the Expert's ability to pick any 10 skills as class skills (and that's only as good as one's ability to enact broken skill shenanigans). Besides that, there's the flavor of it: adepts represent the many petty conjurers, witches, village healers, and other modestly magical people of the world who don't have the training or the suicidally adventurous urge that would allow them to take levels in "real" classes.

Even so, the Adept is a surprisingly serviceable class on its own. It has a small but reliable spell list that it can cast as a Cleric does up to 5th level, it gains a familiar at 2nd level, it has good Will saves, and while the class isn't proficient in any armor, it can wear armor without any penalties besides ACP. They are modestly good at what they're intended to do, and they aren't completely useless outside of that one role.

This makes them a Tier 4 class, which is actually on par with many PHB classes like Rogue, Barbarian, and Ranger. You could run an Adept in a low-power party and they'd fit right in as a sort of Great Value brand Cleric/Wizard. They might even outshine the Fighter or Monk if they're a little optimized. And if you use the Eberron version of the Adept that gives them 1 free Cleric domain, it's even better.

I love that quirk of the system. It makes the Adept feel like a bit of an underdog possessed of unexpected grit. Back in the day before we had multiple 3rd-party products devoted to playing peasants and commoners in way over their depth, the 3E Adept class gave me that same general feeling.

Which is why I was so surprised to find that they got their very own (at one point) bespoke prestige class in the form of the Hexer.


The Hexer

(digital copy of the class writeup courtesy of D&Dtools this time)


The Hexer PrC is from Masters of the Wild, a 3.0 book that mostly concerns itself with Barbarians, Druids, and Rangers. Most of the content of the book was updated to 3.5E, but a few items like the Hexer were never republished, leaving them in that position of still technically being playable despite having clear hallmarks of the older edition, like the Wilderness Lore skill instead of Survival.

The Hexer is portrayed as a spooky, often villainous user of the Evil Eye in its introductory fluff. They are stereotypical witches who use the power of their gaze to curse or enthrall their victims, and they are almost exclusively found among the "uncivilized" species of the world; orcs, gnolls, etc. I don't think I've ever seen another class with a snippet of in-universe gossip quoted in their writeup like the Hexer has:

“Do not meet the gaze of the shaman with the evil eye,” warn townsfolk who have crossed paths with a hexer.

The Hexer is a 10-level PrC that requires you to be any non-good alignment, be a member of one of the aforementioned monstrous species like primitive humanoids or giants, have Arcana 10, Spellcraft 8, and Wilderness Lore Survival 10, and to be able to cast lightning bolt as a divine spell.

The class requirements would be easy for almost any divine caster to meet by 7th level, except for the fact that lightning bolt was not on any divine spell list in the entire game at the time of publication- except for the Adept's. Thus, despite mentioning the Adept nowhere in the writeup, all Hexers needed to be Adepts... before certain other options presented themselves later on in 3E's lifecycle. More on that later.

Hexer offers d6 HD, B/B/G saves, no new proficiencies, Int+2 skill points for Concentration, Craft, Handle Animal, Heal, Knowledge, Profession, Spellcraft, and Survival, +1 to existing class's caster level every level, and a weirdly out-of-place but no less welcome full BAB progression. It doesn't make you much for melee combined with the lack of HP and proficiencies, but it can help you get deadly accurate with ranged touch spells like scorching ray.

But the real bread-and-butter of the class is its Hex (Sp) ability.

Hex is a Standard Action that allows the Hexer to use 1 automatic gaze attack per round for 1 round/level. It automatically affects a target within 30' without an attack roll, though the target does get a Will save, and they can avert their eyes or completely turn away to get a 50% or 100% miss chance (in return for granting the Hexer 20% or 50% concealment from their actions). The Hexer can use Hex once per day, topping out at 6/day at 10th level.

Hex's effects depend on which option you pick, and more options unlock at higher levels:

  • The basic Hex is identical to the 2nd option offered by a bestow curse spell; a permanent -4 penalty to a heap of different d20 rolls.
  • Sicken Hex (3rd level) requires a Fort save instead of Will, and results in 1/2 movement speed, loss of Dex to AC, and a -2 to attack rolls.
  • Fear Hex (5th level) functions as per the fear spell.
  • Sleep Hex (7th level) functions as per the sleep spell, except its duration is 10 minutes/level.
  • Charm Hex (9th level) functions as per the charm monster spell, except its duration is 1 day/level.

As you can see, there's a big disparity in usefulness between the different hexes. I can't see how Sleep Hex would ever be useful at the level a Hexer gets it, because there's no mention of the base spell's extremely low hit dice cap being modified or removed; the most you can do is nap one 4HD creature per turn, and that's not very good at 14th level unless your DM is still throwing waves of minions at you.

Fear has some crowd control use, though. And you could conceivably stack basic Hex and Sicken Hex to debuff the BBEG and their bodyguards- especially since they're permanent unless removed with a spell, meaning they'll still be cursed during a rematch. Charm is quite interesting, especially for its duration, but it's most useful in an out-of-combat situation. Of course, higher levels are when you start to see default immunity to enchantments and mind-affecting effects, so mileage might vary extremely.

The saving grace for Hex is that it only requires a standard action to activate the ability. For the rest of the duration, it costs no action economy to keep up. If you don't have more pressing things to start combat with, it's a nice thing to turn on and then just have running in the background for the rest of the encounter.

Bonus Spell is Hexer's other noteworthy ability, though it's more of a passive. Every 2nd level, you may add 1 spell from the Sorcerer/Wizard spell list to your own. That's 5 spells from what is widely regarded as the best list in the game, and a nice addition to your small but solid repertoire. Grab some encounter-negating utility spells, and maybe engage in some limited planar binding shenanigans.

All told, the Hexer is a niche option for an already niche class, but it's my kind of niche that could lead to a very entertaining and competent character grown from humble origins.

Of course, there are other means of qualifying for Hexer, as I alluded to. Ones that don't require you to spend 7+ levels in an NPC class.

MotW released in 2002, before 3.5E was even a thing, and the following years saw many other options for mixing arcane and divine spellcasting. These include straightforward examples like Shugenja, or Favored Soul that have lightning bolt in their lists, or more specific options like splatbook feats. I'll leave a link to a helpful handbook on GitP here if you want to browse those.

But the big one is Archivist from Heroes of Horror (October 2005). This Int-based divine caster prepares a prayerbook the same way a Wizard does a spellbook, and they can copy spells into it from any divine scroll they come across- including a lightning bolt scroll prepared by an Adept or any of the other classes mentioned above. Archivists make the Hexer even stronger, because they already have full 9th-level casting on top of other class abilities. The bonus arcane-to-divine spells just add to the sheer size and versatility of the spell list. The titular hex really just becomes a glob of coagulated gravy on top of this more cerebral variety of CoDZilla.

I also like the idea of thoroughly subverting the barbaric, primitive assumptions baked into the Hexer by turning their Evil Eye into the (arguably even more powerful) withering gaze of a librarian.