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The books of magic

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Image from Wikimedia commons

Recently I have been fascinated with the idea of magic books as things with identity over and above individual spells. Here is a system for handling the main D&D spells using grimoires rather than generic spell books. All but eleven of the spells in Men & Magic are accounted for. Magic-users may begin with a copy of Arcana Metaphysica and with one other grimoire (choose or roll 1d12).

Researching a spell for personal use or scribing a scroll is different than creating a grimoire, which is not just a collection of spells. A grimoire is a book of power, painstakingly copied down through the ages, and often the work of an individual (perhaps mad) genius. They also often contain things like poems and chants in addition to spell formulae. Many parts of these eldritch books are unintelligible, even to magic-users. However, the spells listed have been identified by sorcerous tradition, and are commonly understood to exist, even if not all magic-users have the talent or experience to cast them safely. Individual magic-users often create spell books, but these are not grimoires and cannot be used by other wizards (though they may grant a bonus to magic research rolls if examined with the assistance of read magic). Magical spells cannot be shared like science, and often die with their creator.

Some of these grimoires contain very high level spells. Magic-users may attempt to cast or prepare spells above their normal ability, but at great risk. The casting or preparation takes 1 turn (10 minutes of in-game time). If prepared, the highest level spell slot must be used. When cast, a saving throw versus spells is made with penalty equal to spell level and bonus equal to 1/2 level. On a roll equal to or less than the spell level, the magic user suffers a catastrophic backfire. Note that the fumble range is not decreased by increasing level until the magic-user is able to prepare the spell as normal. The saving throw is not made until the moment of casting.

All grimoires are looked upon with fear and awe, but of the individual books, Arcana Metaphysica is by far the most common (relatively speaking) and least mysterious of the known grimoires. Anyone with an education will be able to identify it, and anyone carrying this book will be assumed to be a magic-user. Grimoires are quite bulky; one will occupy most of a backpack or sack. Travelling with several grimoires generally requires multiple chests and servants, or at least a pack animal with generous saddlebags.

Arcana Necromantica, Conjurations & Banishments, and The Roads Between the Stars are all considered forbidden knowledge, and will mark the possessor as a necromancer or demonologist. Even many magic-users will destroy these books if given the chance, though the status of Conjurations & Banishments is ambivalent, as the fragments do contain warding spells. Unfortunately, most of the spells of banishment have not survived.

Copying a grimoire correctly is not something that a common scribe can accomplish. It must be done in the proper ritual setting, and requires the finest materials. Costs as per magical research in Men & Magic. Arcana Metaphysica is the primary exception, often being created by a magic-user during apprenticeship (though some individuals have been able to teach themselves from a pilfered copy of the Arcana). It is also the only grimoire that a magic-user can recreate from memory if the original is lost. The great cost of creating a grimoire does not encourage experimentation, however, and small variations can sometimes doom an entire project.

(Spell levels are indicated by the number prior to the spell name.)

The Basics

Arcana Metaphysica, anonymous

  • 1 Read Magic
  • 3 Dispel Magic
  • 4 Remove Curse
  • 6 Anti-Magic Shell

Specialized Grimoires

Roll 1d12:

1. The Hidden Knowledge, attributed to Cochyla the Younger

  • 1 Detect Magic
  • 1 Detect Evil
  • 2 Locate Object
  • 2 ESP
  • 3 Clairvoyance
  • 3 Clairaudience
  • 4 Wizard Eye

2. Realms Seen and Unseen, attributed to the Fifth Council

  • 1 Light
  • 2 Detect Invisibility
  • 2 Invisibility
  • 2 Continual Light
  • 3 Invisibility, 10′ Radius
  • 3 Infravision

3. The Organ of the Inner Moon, attributed to Sezius Elfblood

  • 1 Charm Person
  • 1 Sleep
  • 3 Hold Person
  • 4 Confusion
  • 4 Charm Monster
  • 5 Feeblemind
  • 6 Geas

4. Mastering Gates, attributed to Marlow Shadow-Walker

  • 1 Hold Portal
  • 2 Wizard Lock
  • 2 Knock
  • 5 Pass-Wall

5. Codex of the Cloud-Masters, anonymous

  • 2 Levitate
  • 3 Fly
  • 3 Protection from Normal Missiles
  • 5 Telekinesis

6. Illusio, anonymous

  • 2 Phantasmal Forces
  • 4 Hallucinatory Terrain
  • 4 Massmorph
  • 6 Projected Image

7. On Essence, attributed to Caleia

  • 4 Polymorph Self
  • 4 Polymorph Others
  • 5 Transmute Rock-Mud
  • 5 Growth of Animals
  • 6 Stone-Flesh

8. Arbatel of Flame

  • 3 Fire Ball
  • 3 Lightning Bolt
  • 6 Disintegrate

9. Songs of Three Winters, attributed to Taymar the Wise

  • 3 Slow Spell
  • 3 Haste Spell

10. Arcana Necromantica, anonymous

  • 5 Animate Dead
  • 5 Magic Jar
  • 6 Reincarnation
  • 6 Death Spell

11. Conjurations & Banishments (fragments), anonymous

  • 1 Protection from Evil
  • 3 Protection from Evil, 10′ Radius
  • 5 Conjure Elemental
  • 5 Contact Higher Plane
  • 6 Invisible Stalker

12. The Roads Between the Stars (fragments), anonymous

  • 4 Dimension Door
  • 5 Teleport

Vaults of Pahvelorn

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Being a campaign pitch. Other related posts can be found under the Pahvelorn label.

Several generations past, the ambitious lord Arios set out into the wilderness to extend the reach of civilization. In consultation with his sorcerer Ismahir (for all wise lords have a wizard), he selected a hill called Pahvelorn for his stronghold and raised up a mighty fortress. He drove the giants away and slayed several dragons. The populace prospered.

But then strange things began to happen around the fortress, and Ismahir was gone for months at a time. Unnatural creatures would emerge from the dark spaces beneath the castle. Other advisors begged Arios to be rid of the wizard, but he was loyal to his old companion. Then, one day, when Arios was out on the hunt, he heard a terrific roar and the earth shook. He immediately returned to his fortress to discover only a giant pit in the earth where but days before had proud Pahvelorn stood. Above, clods of dirt and worms rained down from the fortress as it rose into the cloudy sky. Ismahir was never seen again. In the pit below where the hill had once been, dark things writhed and hissed in unfamiliar daylight, even the pale light filtered by the day’s heavy clouds.

Or, so go the stories. All we know for certain is that most of the good people left soon after the castle ascended into the overworld. Bereft of family and distrusted by the villagers, Arios vanished into the wilderness with his most loyal men, seeking to redeem himself the way he first gained glory. Now, half ruined, the village Zorfath perches over the edge of the pit, the haunt of mercenaries and treasure hunters, a gateway into dark places opened by the castle’s leaving.

A shadow has been recently seen over the land, however. Crops wither where it passes. After a 101 year absence, the fortress is returning.

System is OD&D. The 3 LBBs plus the thief from Supplement I: Greyhawk. Human only. Proposed venue is G+ hangouts, every week or so, and would use the excursion format (so consistent attendance would not be required). Having access to a copy of the rules is not required; character generation rules will be provided.

More details about rules to come later.

A Mighty Fortress Gunpowder Rules

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There are some nice firearms rules in the Second Edition AD&D supplement HR4 A Mighty Fortress (see pages 60 and 61).

Here is a summary, for ease of use. Check out the book though, if you have a chance. There are lots of interesting elements contained within.

  • Target AC ignores armor (i.e., using newer terminology, is a ranged touch attack); thus, defense against firearms comes from cover and dexterity.
  • Exploding damage dice on rolls of 8, 10, and 12 without limit.
  • Misfire on a roll of 1 (requires 10 rounds to clean).
  • Hanging fire on a roll of 2; this means the shot does not go off, and the fumble range is increased by 1 on subsequent shots until the firearm is cleaned (e.g., after hanging fire once, a misfire happens on a roll of 1 or 2 and hanging fire on 3).
  • Fouling (called out as an optional rule): three normal shots count as a hanging shot with regard to misfire and hanging fire chances (to represent the accumulating burned powder.
  • Point blank attacks (within 5 feet) inflict +1 burn damage.
  • Matchlock firearms: caliver (1d8), arquebus (1d10), musket with rest (1d12).
  • Snaplock & flintlock firearms:  pistol (1d8), musket (1d12).
  • Wheellock pistols: belt pistol (1d8), horse pistol (1d10).

In the past, I have often just treated firearms like crossbows (that are easier to conceal but make more noise). The HR4 rules suggestions seem reasonable, though, and not overly cumbersome.

    Clerics

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    What is the deal with my cleric’s religion?

    — Question #1 from Jeff’s 20 quick questions for your campaign setting.

    Image from Dark Classics

    Clerics are members of an ancient order of holy warriors dedicated to the power of law. In legend, the order originated as the elite judicial and martial arm of a mighty and just empire. They were betrayed by a wicked emperor who was jealous of the order’s influence. The clerics survived underground, passing the Mysteries of Light down from teacher to student throughout the ages. The empire which birthed the order has long since been lost beneath the waves or smashed by mountains that fell from the sky (accounts differ), but the clerics believe in a prophecy that the True Empire will rise again, ruled by just High Priests.

    Now, however, clerics are rare, and as self-appointed guardians of the law are often persecuted. Because of their tendency to oppose corrupt potentates, a cleric’s relationship with secular authority is often problematic. In these degenerate times, rulers are rarely better than brutal warlords concerned only with strength of arms, or sorcerer kings that use black magic and dark pacts to rule briefly before losing control of the power they have harnessed. Thus, the remaining clerics tend to be itinerant traveling demon hunters, though there do exist strongholds ruled by High Priests of the Light which claim the authority of the True Holy Empire. Like wandering marshals in the wild west, clerics can sometimes be found traveling the borderlands, offering their services as judge and exorcist to the fragile outposts of civilization. Clerics are often welcomed by the people of such frontier towns.

    As clerics belong to an order of mysteries, they must be initiated. This can be done by apprenticeship to a wandering cleric, joining the order at a High Priest’s stronghold, or (more rarely) by discovery of Holy Scriptures of the Light (sometimes on the person of a fallen cleric or overgrown shrine). As the order is handed down by lineage, from teacher to student, it is considered a great tragedy when a particular cleric’s lineage ends with no new initiates. Thus, people sympathetic to the faith but not initiated may feel a duty to continue a dead lineage if a fallen cleric is discovered. Such self-initiates are often distrusted by more established clerics until they prove themselves.

    The mysteries must never be disclosed to outsiders, and the true source of holy power is a secret. Clerics powerful enough to fully comprehend the mysteries may no longer even exist. Many outsiders believe that clerics worship a sun god, and much of their iconography does include symbols having to do with light and the sun, though sages have pointed out that the sun is also a potent weapon against many powers of chaos (especially the vampire, a traditional foe of the order).

    To increase in level, a cleric must consult with a higher level member of the order. Often, at least for the first few levels, this will be the cleric’s initiator, though if the cleric was self-initiated, or high level, this may require a more extensive pilgrimage. This requirement can also be satisfied by venerating a shrine of the appropriate level (this is based on the level of the entombed cleric). The low level scriptures are written in vernacular language, but the more puissant and subtle are written in a hidden language which only initiates of the light may read or speak. Clerics gain greater fluency in this hidden language as they rise in level. It is common superstition that reading hidden scriptures will drive the impure mad.

    In addition to the standard draws of adventure, clerics have several other objectives. Many ancient shrines of the order have been defiled by the powers of chaos, usurped by the vanity of petty gods, or destroyed by jealous black magicians. Clerics gain acclaim by purging such shrines of evil and reconsecrating them in the name of the light. Clerics also value recovering scriptures (written in the secret language of law) or holy relics (the remains of fallen clerics). The shadowy underworld and gloomy forests are littered with the remains of brave champions of the light. Accumulating treasure is also just as important to the cleric as it is to other adventurers, as wealth is required for building a stronghold and raising armies against the powers of chaos.

    Clerics believe that worldly power is fully legitimate only as the True Empire, though they will often happily work with other rulers for the sake of expediency. Thus, for most the highest calling is to build a stronghold, especially if by doing so they manage to reclaim some of the chaotic wilderness for civilization. Not all clerics choose to follow this route, though, and instead wander the wilderness unceasingly, offering their services to a world still smothering in darkness and sorcery.

    Cults and worshipers of other powers exist, but such priests and cultists are not available as PC classes by default. They may be discovered through play though (and will certainly use different rules than the cleric class).

    Dexterity Influenced Initiative

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    My understanding of 3E and 4E initiative is as follows. Each character or monster has an initiative bonus, which is influenced by the dexterity modifier and other situational modifiers (including things like the improved initiative feat). Each character rolls initiative which is 1d20 plus the bonus, and then all characters act in the order of highest to lowest. This is only rolled once, at the beginning of combat, and then the order is followed statically for every following round, and is modified only if characters decide to delay their action (and thus voluntarily place themselves later in the order). Monster initiative is often done as a group, to simplify the referee’s job.

    In terms of the math, this type of initiative system is much like achieving surprise: it can benefit you in the first round, but never afterwards. To see why this is, consider a simple initiative order with four entities, acting in the following order: A, B, C, D. Thus, assuming no entity is removed from the combat or delays, the actions would go:

    • A, B, C, D, A, B, C, D, A, B, C, D, …

    It is clear that A, B, and C have some relative degree of advantage at the beginning of the combat, but after that it is much less clear. For example, the following initiative orders are all also true if ignoring some or all of the first round (as they are all subsequences):

    • B, C, D, A
    • C, D, A, B
    • D, A, B, C

    Thus, not much dynamism or potential character advantage is actually gained by using this system, which is relatively cumbersome at the table (all the numbers have to be rolled, written down, and then reordered). Mechanical aids can help; I’ve seen (but never used) magnet systems, smartphone apps, and small whiteboards designed to help with d20 initiative. If you know the initiative bonuses of all combatants beforehand, you could precompile several sample orders, but that seems like a lot of work to me (with little benefit).

    Given that, why not just let the character with the highest dexterity go first, and then go around the table? For added impact, seat players around the table in order of dexterity score (or initiative bonus, if you are playing a game that uses such a thing). The referee could use a Holmes-like system and roll 3d6 for monster dexterity at the beginning of combat, and then have a roll-off to determine if the cycle would start with the monsters or the PC with highest dexterity (the advantage here is 2 rolls per combat rather than N rolls, and no need to write down the order or bounce around the table).

    For comparison, it is also worth mentioning the AD&D/segment “count up” system, which is similar to, but more elegant than, the d20 system. In the “count up” system, everyone rolls 1d10 and then subtracts their dexterity bonus and adds things like casting times and other penalties. The referee then counts up from one until every entity has acted (thus, lower is better). The advantage here is that weapon speed factors and individual dexterity can contribute to the order of actions without needing to write down an initiative sequence. Since everyone tracks only one single number, it can even be rerolled every turn, so that characters with quick weapons or high dexterity scores will go first more often than not, but nothing is guaranteed (making combat more interesting and less predictable).

    It seems to me that the d20 style of initiative is a clear example of a misapplied core mechanic. Roll a d20, higher is always better just doesn’t seem to be convenient for the problem of determining initiative order. I’m probably missing some subtle awesome stuff that can be done with delaying actions in the d20 system. If so, please enlighten me!

    Personally, I am quite happy with the Moldvay D&D method of rolling d6 per side every round (I even used that system with Fourth Edition), but I was thinking about this and just wanted to get my thoughts down. The dexterity bonus is only applied to initiative rolls in Moldvay for one on one combats; otherwise, it is a d6 roll unmodified by any character stats.

    Excursion Format

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    Back in high school, we sometimes played D&D in a format that we called a house game. This format was so called because every adventure was required to begin and end at a home base (the “house”). We did this because it allowed us to rotate DM duties, and slowly develop the campaign world jointly, rather than requiring a large time investment upfront by a single DM. This was the way we ran the Blackwater Falls campaign.

    This is somewhat similar to the way I see many games being run online now (ConstantCon, FLAILSNAILS, etc), though the primary concern is not rotating referees, but rather a changing player roster. The PCs in the next session may not be the same as the PCs in the previous session. In other words, it is assumed that PCs return to town (whatever “town” means for the particular campaign).

    This can raise a problem of logical narrative. What happens if the PCs end the session on, for example, dungeon level 3? Jeff Rients addresses this with his Triple Secret Random Dungeon Fate Chart of Very Probable Doom. Basically, if you are still in the dungeon at the end of the session, you need to make a roll (50% success) adjusted down (-10%) by dungeon level and up (+10%) by character level to see if you escape without mishap. If you fail that roll, you are sent to the Chart of Very Probable Doom to see what happens (the name says it all).

    Jeff’s approach and table are inspired, but I am modifying the method slightly for my own use. First, rather than making a percentile roll and adjusting for level, the character makes a saving throw (the most favorable save may be used). This models the increasing competency of being higher level and reuses the numbers that are already on the character sheet (not that Jeff’s percentages are hard to remember; I just like saving throws). You may also add your single most favorable ability modifier as a bonus. Penalty is applied by dungeon level as per Jeff, but only -1 (5%) per level (I may change this to -2 in the future). Second, regarding the wilderness. The number of hexes away from the nearest known point of civilization is equivalent to dungeon level in terms of penalty. Third, the expected consequence of failure is death. I may have a table with other options, but its contents are confidential.

    Note that whatever system I happen to be running, it is likely that the main setting assumptions of B/X D&D will hold: the wilderness is a perilous place. You might run into a dragon. I stock the wilderness map without consideration of PC levels. Merchants and other travelers generally move in large, armed caravans. Maybe you should stick to the dungeon for the first few levels (not that that’s any guarantee of safety either).

    This post is not intended to be in any way original. I just want a page that I can reference describing the way I plan to run a game.

    9 July 2012 edit: Well, look at this, an ODD74 thread from 2008 (Starting my Jakalla Megadungeon) that features a “table of despair” for characters that have overstayed their welcome in the dungeon.

    Diegetic Character Options

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    Last year I wrote about about backloading complexity, specifically applied to skills. In response, Jeffro wrote an excellent post about extending that idea to magic-users; in Jeffro’s Infocom-inspired system, magic-users begin with only one spell, read magic, and must discover all other spells by finding scrolls. This is also a way of backloading complexity (because the players of magic-users do not need to know what the various spells do before the game starts or choose between them), but it is something more as well. It is diegetic in the sense that it ties the game mechanics to in-game events and situations. It is meaning first.

    I think this principle can be extended even further. What if learning new skills or feats required finding a teacher or some other quest? For example, if you want to learn the mounted combat feat, perhaps you need to complete 1d4 missions with the local cavalry, and maybe you must journey to the steppe barbarians to learn mounted archery. Under such a system, feats would become a form of treasure, or at least an adventure hook.

    Why not use this approach for race as well? Elves could be available as PCs once Elf-Land has been discovered. This is the way that Evan plans on handling reptoids in his Uz setting. Other nonhumans could also be accessed in this manner. In a sense, this is similar to the idea of “unlocking” options in video games. To take this to the logical extreme, what if you could play any race if you could convince one of them to first be a retainer (riffing off the traditional idea of being able to promote retainers to full PCs)? Thus, want to play a dragon? You first have to find and make friends with one. It would provide a nice incentive for parley, too. And give the referee an opportunity to show through play how a given species behaves in the particular setting.

    One could even imagine having almost nothing at the beginning, and discovering everything through play (even class). Some modes of zero level play approximate this ideal, but in reality most of these systems allow players to plan things out and just make them wait for it (which is why I think many people don’t like zero level play). What I am laying out here is a stricter idea how zero level is usually played, as spells or other mechanical bits may be entirely unique to a given campaign (though the two ideas could be profitably mixed).

    This structure privileges exploring game worlds over exploring mechanical options. Players might not even know what feats were available until they have experienced the game! I realize this kind of game is not for everyone (there seems to be a sizeable contingent of players that groove on character optimization, if forum post volume is anything to go on), but I think this is a mode I would enjoy both as player and as referee. Exactly where one draws the line between character creation options and diegetic options is a matter for individual groups and referees to decide upon together.

    Chaos Titans

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    Chaos titans are powerful beings from other worlds or dimensions who derive pleasure and nourishment from strife and conflict. They are not gods. Thus, they cannot shape reality in the way that a true god has authority over a domain such as light, or love, or death. Nor do they exist outside the bounds or rules of the material universe. However, in most cases, practically speaking, they are immortal and invulnerable.

    It is possible to destroy them, but the correct rituals to do so are difficult to obtain and may even have been truly lost. It is easier to banish or imprison them, but even such limited tasks are the work of a legendary hero. It is unknown whether chaos titans were created by mad gods, ancient sorcerers, or are birthed naturally from maelstroms of chaos.

    Chaos titans can grant powers to mortal servants in the manner of divinities. They favor powers of destruction and awe. They are often the patron of rebels, and may pretend to be gods unconnected to chaos. They communicate only telepathically, at a range of several thousand feet. Thus, they often reside in caverns deep below populated areas, where they can cultivate followers, though they have also been known to hide in storm clouds, volcanoes, or powerful rivers. They enjoy causing natural disasters periodically.

    The physical presence of a chaos titan may mutate creatures nearby, though this radius will vary from titan to titan and can be controlled to some degree. Chaos titans dislike any kind of stability, and are likely to betray followers if they feel like their power is being used in the service of order. They will also use their followers to undermine any other source of law. They have little sense of time of consciousness, and thus little ability to plan; they exist mostly in the moment.

    When in physical form, chaos titans often appear as giant chitin-plated humanoids, 50 feet or more in height, but may take any form that pleases them of approximately the same size. Metamorphosis between forms takes one turn, and is terrifying to behold. Anyone witnessing such a transformation must succeed on a morale check or flee (this does not apply to PCs, but does apply to all retainers and NPCs).

    AC as plate, HD 20, # attacks 2, damage 3d6, immune to non-magical damage, movement 24 (levitation). They may cast the following spells at will: ESP, confusion, invisibility, levitate, pyrotechnics, lightning bolt, transmute rock to mud, part water, all cure spells. They can also grant these spells to followers of the appropriate level that are within telepathy range. Individual titans may also have access to other spells; this list is merely a suggestion.

    If defeated in combat without the proper destruction ritual being performed, the chaos titan will reform in 1d4 weeks, often growing in a surviving follower or nearby beast.

    Iron Heroes & Adventure Motivation

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    Recently, I have been sampling the d20 book Iron Heroes. This is a “variant player’s handbook” that presents new classes and rules for 3E D&D. I am indebted to noisms for originally bringing Iron Heroes to my attention. My understanding is that the original motivation behind IH was to create classes that would be competitive (in terms of power levels) with the core classes without relying on assumptions about magic items and healing magic.

    The game is thus mostly built around martial classes (with the exception of the arcanist) that have interesting tactical and combat abilities. Classes include archer, armiger, berserker, executioner, harrier, hunter, man-at-arms, thief, weapon master, and arcanist. Some of these are obviously derived from standard 3E classes (e.g., man-at-arms = fighter, berserker = barbarian, thief = thief) with tweaks to make them fit the desired style.

    Though this may seem, from the above description, to be similar to many recent high power, heroic games, the actual atmosphere is swords & sorcery, enforced by a lack of magical items and a highly dangerous magic system for the one class that uses magic. This is a system for Conan stories, not for teleporting elves. The art is also perfectly in tune with this vibe.

    There are many great ideas here for specific mechanics, and the magic system is wonderfully evocative. It uses mana points, and each school has methods with guidelines about how to create effects, based on a character’s level of mastery. A d20 “casting roll” is required (with difficulty based on the amount of mana spent and the power of the ability) and failures can cause minor or major disasters (for example, a major disaster when animating the dead causes the newly created creature to immediately attack the creator arcanist). It is a complicated system that requires calculation for every effect, but it looks like it would be very enjoyable once learned.

    Iron Heroes was written by Mike Mearls in 2005, and thus predates Fourth Edition by three years. Many of the concerns that would inform the design of 4E can be seen here in proto form, though the style of the implied game world is very different. Check the following quote (page 248):

    ADVENTURES

    When creating adventures, be sure to come up with interesting situations that allow the player characters to use their abilities. Try to avoid fights in plain, empty rooms.

    Battles in Iron Heroes tend to last longer than in other games, since the characters have more hit points and more complex abilities. Thus, you must ensure that there is more to the fights than merely two lines of opponents standing still and smacking each other. Throw in lots of interesting terrain to encourage creative, active play.

    When designing adventures, remember that you cannot offer magic items to the party as a reward. Gold and jewels also lose some of their value in terms of character power, because the PCs cannot use them to purchase magic items. The onus is on you, as DM, to come up with interesting stories, villains, and enemies. The characters need motivation other than the simple accumulation of treasure to push them ahead to adventures.

    Entire books have been written about adventure design, leaving far too little space for the topic here. However, you’ll do fine if you remember one important thing: The characters should always have a good, compelling reason to do something. Whether it’s a noble desire to defeat an evil overlord, a selfish need to escape the law, or some other reason, you need to create a clear and interesting rationale to drive the action forward.

    The first two paragraphs outline exactly the kind of play expected by 4E. Creative play is reacting to and using terrain elements tactically. Encounters should be designed to allow characters to show off their abilities. Fights in plain rooms are discouraged, and movement is considered the essence of dynamic combat. This is quite different than traditional D&D, but I don’t mean to highlight it pejoratively. I’ve learned some interesting things from Fourth Edition combat, and though I have come to the conclusion that as a complete system it is too cumbersome and slow, there are aspects of it that I think deserve a place in more freeform and fast-paced combat systems, particularly forced movement and support actions (e.g., things that allow fighter-types to protect other characters if they so desire).

    However, there is one aspect of the above advice that I think in retrospect is downright harmful, based on the kind of game that it encourages. Specifically, the bit about characters needing motivation to push them ahead to adventures. Why should players demand “compelling” reasons to do something? Is not the point of the game to have adventures? A referee already has to spend a nontrivial amount of time and energy either familiarizing themselves with a module, writing their own material, or improvising it at the table. Why put this additional burden on the referee? Is the existence of interesting locations and scenarios really not enough?

    There is nothing wrong, of course, with using character motivations (revenge, fear of the law, a common enemy, whatever), but it is this sense that the referee is required to convince the players to go after the adventure that bothers me somewhat. Why should the ref need to push the players ahead to adventure? Haven’t they indicated that they are interested in adventure by sitting down around the gaming table?

    Precompiling

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    I have found that I don’t much like rolling on content-generating tables during play. I rarely do it (I would usually rather just improvise), but every once in a while it comes up (like a treasure table in a module that I didn’t bother to roll on beforehand). The box label generator in the Lamentations module Tower of the Stargazer is a good example of this. Rolling those names during the game just killed the sense of immersion, and made it seem like none of the results could possible matter.

    Whenever this happens, I feel like it slows down the game and exposes pieces of the machinery that are better left hidden. My most recent face to face group, especially, seemed to become uninterested in content if it looked like the random variety. They wanted to find the “real” content.

    There have been a few posts on the blogs recently that have touched on similar issues. For example, Beedo over at Dreams in the Lich House has been talking about how he is using spreadsheets to pregenerate content for his Black City game:

    And, Jim at Carjacked Seraphim has been posting about his system for DM prep. He has some useful-looking ideas there, like prerolling on which turn encounters should happen, so that you can tick off bubbles as the turns progress and then just cross-reference the appropriate encounter column. Check them out:

    This also brings an aspect of fate into the game without actually limiting player choice at all, which is sort of fascinating. It’s like looking down from the corner of a high building at a road intersection and seeing two cars speeding towards (but oblivious of) each other. You have seen their future (the crash) without reducing their free will.

    There are also tools like Meatshields! that can help.

    The principle is also a bit like vancian casting: you want to prepare the content so that all that is left is the final command word. Note that the content in question can still be loosely bound. Like, you might not know exactly where you are going to need the next barkeep, but having one ready is useful (especially if you are as bad at remembering improvised details like I am).