A Solution for Polymorph

I just had the best idea that I think I’m going to adopt going forward.

See, I think polymorph is neat conceptually. I love having access to it as a player. But it’s super easy to abuse, and that is problematic.

I don’t like Pathfinder’s take on fixing it — spells that are limited to one kind of creature. That’s such an ugly weld, and it’s pretty associative to boot.

I’m also not a fan of the “polymorph” subschool fix. I’m of the opinion that you should get all the (ex) abilities a creature has when you shapeshift into that creature. It doesn’t make sense for that not to be the case. And I don’t remember if there’s some kind of “your INT becomes that of the creature” restriction, but if there is then that’s asinine.

I need a solution that keeps polymorph as the “ace in the hole” spot without allowing it to moot every encounter. And I think I’ve hit upon the solution. Read on…



You, or your target, assume the form of a typical creature of the desired type.  You function in all ways as an example of the creature specified, save that you retain access to your feats, skills, and class abilities.  You use your own skills or those of the creature, at your discretion.  If you can speak, you can cast spells.  (Restrict to standard polymorph types.)

You gain access to the creature’s feats and exceptional abilities.  If the creature has a “defining” supernatural ability (DM’s discretion), you gain access to that as well, though any effects created by such abilities, or any subordinate effects to those effects, end when the spell ends.  You cannot gain more uses per day of such abilities than the creature would ordinarily get by repeated castings of polymorph.  Under no circumstances do you gain access to a creature’s spells or spell-like abilities.

When you transform, you must make a Fortitude save against a DC of 10, modified by the table below, or die.  If you succeed on this save, you heal as though you had rested a day when assuming your new form.

+1 for every HD difference between the desired form and a typical example of your true form (1 HD for most PC races)

+2 for magical beast, fae, vermin, or giant

+4 for aberration, plant, or outsider

+6 for dragon

You immediately take up the space of your new form.  If this is more space than you have, you can make a caster level check in place of a Strength check to break the container you are in; otherwise, you take 1d6 points of damage per occluded square and are trapped.

You must make a successful Knowledge check (DC 15 + HD of creature) of the appropriate type (arcana, local, nature, dungeoneering, or the planes) in order to assume the desired form.  If you fail this check, the spell fizzles, and you cannot check again for that particular creature until you gain a rank in the appropriate Knowledge skill.

Finally, you may assume, or cause another to assume, the form of a particular creature only once in your life.  A “creature” in this context is defined as one particular entry in the Monster Manual.  Advanced versions of creatures, creatures that have different stats at different times in their lives, or creatures with class levels count as their base entry.  Templates of any kind are not permitted, but would count as their base creature.  A half-blooded creature counts as both of its parent types.

The net result of this, I believe, would be to make polymorph even more awesome than it already is, but make it somewhat more situational.  The party is effectively limited to a single use of a particular creature over the entire game, so strategy regarding when to “blow” a particular creature type comes into play.  I also believe it to be perfectly reasonable to assert that you have to know a fair bit about a particular creature in order to correctly assume its form.  This all requires more bookkeeping on the part of the DM and player, which is the idea’s main drawback, but I think the complexity it adds to play makes this tradeoff worthwhile.

An epiphany on grappling

I have no idea if I’m the first person who’s thought of this (I’m almost certainly not), but I just came up with a brilliant way to explain with absolute clarity how grappling works.

(N.B. to the uninitiated: the grappling rules are roundly considered to be the least comprehensible and usable rules in the 3.5 edition.  And I’ll be honest, I never really understood them until just now.)

So it goes like this: imagine, instead of an opposed check, a grapple attack was made versus the opponent’s “grapple defense.”  Which would be equal to 10 + their grapple check modifier.

…see?  It’s exactly like AC.  The person who is making the grapple check, the person whose turn it is, rolls to see if he succeeds on the grapple action.  If he hits (succeeds on his grapple check), he gets to go for a pin, inflict damage, or do all the other things — which, as a defender, might include trying to cast a spell, or wriggle free.

So two characters are in a grapple.  It’s the attacker’s turn.  He rolls a grapple attack, consisting of his BAB + STR + size modifier, plus any other relevant bonuses such as Improved Grapple.  The defender has a “grapple defense,” which is 10 + BAB + STR + size modifier, plus other relevant modifiers.  If the attacker “hits,” he gets to do any of the “grappley” things you can do when in a grapple.  If he misses, nothing happens.

Then it’s the defender’s turn.  The defender now rolls his grapple attack (see above) against the attacker’s grapple defense.  If the defender “hits,” he gets to do any of the grappley things, like squirm free or pull a knife.  If he misses, nothing happens.

Only the character whose turn it is gets to do something.  That’s the bit that always sort of confused me.  And the really cool part is initiating a grapple, if it’s a standard action (I can’t remember but I think it is), can be done as many times per round as you have attacks (with a decreasing grapple check in accordance with your attack iterations) with a full attack option.

And for what it’s worth, I’d suggest that a “critical” on a grapple check, confirmed in the usual manner, would allow two grapple actions — so you could either go right for a pin, or wriggle completely free.  So there’s two grapple house rules 😀

Yammering about alignment again, part two: Law and Chaos

So I’ve often said that, while Sisko is my favorite captain, Picard is probably the best of all the captains.  This, in a nutshell, is because Picard comes closest to the platonic ideal Starfleet officer.  He’s thoughtful, he’s cautious, he’s assertive, he’s compassionate, and he believes in and follows Starfleet’s principles to the letter.  (This is all TV!Picard — movie!Picard is a totally different character.)  He’s cultured and intelligent and refined and he only breaks the letter of the law when he is convinced that the spirit of the law dictates doing so.

Sisko, on the other hand…

Sisko is a man guided by conscience.  He’s constantly making choices that don’t seem in keeping with Starfleet’s principles to serve what he believes to be the greater good.  While he believes in Starfleet’s mission and values, he holds is own personal morality higher.  From looking the other way about Quark’s side dealings to arranging a change of guard in the government of a sovereign power to benefit not only the Federation but the entire Alpha Quadrant, from balancing his role as Emissary with his position as a Starfleet captain to flat-out ignoring the Prophets when he was told he couldn’t marry Cassidy, Sisko was never one to let the rules get in the way of getting the job done.  He had a code, it was just his own code.  His ethics came from within.

This, to me, illustrates perfectly the difference between Lawful and Chaotic.  In my mind, it’s about ethics — not any specific ethic, but the source of the character’s ethical framework.  “Lawful” and “Chaotic” are the two “outer edge” answers to the question, “Where does your ethical framework come from?”

In the case of Lawful, the character’s ethical framework is external.  It’s a code, a set of rules, a vow they took, or the laws of the country in which they live, dutifully followed.  It’s a monastic routine, or a disciplined, regimented life.  Moreover, it isn’t situation-dependent.  Lawful looks at a situation and says, “What in my ethos applies to this situation?”

For a Chaotic character, the ethical framework comes from inside.  The character has ideas about right action but those ideas are relative and somewhat fluid.  For a Chaotic character, the ends are much more likely to justify the means, if the character has any ends in mind at all.  The character may or may not believe in the rule of law in principle, and might even be a generally law-abiding citizen; but if a law gets in the way of what the character wants, the character will happily ignore that law.  For a Chaotic character, ethics are situational — while Law asks “what rule covers this,” Chaos asks, “what do I want and what’s the best way to get it?”

Picard, the model of Lawful Good and the closest thing Star Trek has to a paladin, puts the rules above everything else.  He’s happy to take a shot to the heart if it means preserving the Prime Directive, and would rather let a planet of primitives die than intervene dramatically to save them.  He’s not blindly obedient, he considers his choices, but at the end of the day he is beholden to something larger than himself, and he lets that larger thing guide his choices.

Sisko, on the other hand, will ignore the rules at the drop of a hat if he thinks doing so will get to the outcome he wants.  He is a pragmatist, but he is deeply compassionate.  He is something of a maverick in Starfleet, but he’s not in it for himself — he has no issues ignoring the stipulation that the Defiant can only cloak in the Gamma Quadrant but he remains firmly opposed to the outright-evil actions undertaken by Section 31.  He looks at a situation, decides how he wants that situation to play out, and does what he has to do in order to get the job done.  Damn the rules if they get in his way.

So what about neutrality?  Let’s talk about Good and Evil next, and then we can handle what neutral means all in one go.

Yammering about alignment again, part one: Definitions

As a philosophical-type person, I have a fascination with the alignment system.

Now, before we begin, I know it’s just a game.  I know that the alignment system is half mechanic, half flavor, and has no applicability to the real world.  I know that good, evil, law, and chaos are abstractions and referential, and the alignment system is another layer of abstraction and simplification on top of that.  But half of what we do here on Words of Power is wank, even if it’s only once every three months, so wank I shall.

One of the main problems I’ve had with the alignment system is how hard it is to differentiate between, say, NE and CN, or how it’s really hard to come up with character examples for TN.  The entire scale doesn’t account for how people really act, how they really are, what really motivates them.  It’s not a human scale, in other words.

The other problem I’ve had is pinning down what “law” and “chaos” are — because those answers are harder than they first appear.  Likewise, how does “neutrality” factor into good and evil?  How does it factor into law and chaos?  “Acting to maintain a balance” between two extremes isn’t a thing that humans do — a human adopts one option or the other, or adopts no option at all.

So I’m going to talk about these things, because I think I have satisfying answers.  I’ll be addressing them in later posts so as not to have this one run to four thousand words.  But before we get to that, I want to explain exactly what I think alignment is.

Alignment is that which guides a character’s moral choices.  When a character is faced with a moral or ethical dilemma, his alignment dictates how he formulates his response to that dilemma.

Note that this isn’t the same as dictating what a character of a given alignment will do when faced with a given moral dilemma.  While that is partially governed by a character’s placement on the “good” versus “evil” axis, alignment also refers to the means by which the character arrives at his decision.

In the following posts, I will discuss the law/chaos axis and the good/evil axis independently.  Finally, I’ll discuss what each alignment means, and give example characters that fit each alignment.

Stay tuned!

[FATE] Poison/Disease draft rules

One thing I’ve felt somewhat lacking in the FATE rules is a satisfying mechanic for “toxins,” which for purposes of gaming abstraction is the category I use for all persistent damaging effects.  Poison and disease certainly fall into this category, as do curses, acids, bleeding wounds, DoTs, and so forth.  What follows is a draft attempt at coming up with such a mechanic.

All Toxins have the following attributes:

  • A “strength” value, which could be called “toxicity” or “virulence”
  • A stress track, called Persistence
  • An attack interval
  • An onset delay

The toxin’s strength value specifies which of the subject’s stress tracks is attacked.  Toxins are resisted via Vigor or Resolve, as appropriate.  Particularly nasty toxins may attack more than one stress track.

A toxin’s Persistence is a measure of how hard it is to shake.  A subject will be harried by the toxin until the toxin is Taken Out via Persistence stress; see below for the exact mechanic.  Toxins do not suffer from Consequences.

When a subject is exposed to a toxin, he rolls Vigor or Resolve versus the Toxin’s Strength.  Failure means that the toxin has taken hold.  The subject gains a temporary Aspect relating to the toxin’s presence (e.g. “Curare poisoning,” “Sick with the flu,” “Cursed”), which persists until the toxin is removed.

After the onset delay has elapsed, and every attack interval thereafter, the referee and the subject make an opposed roll.  The referee rolls the toxin’s Strength while the subject rolls the appropriate defensive stat.  Shifts gained by the toxin are applied to the subject’s appropriate stress track; spin scored by the subject is applied to the toxin’s stress track.

Stress inflicted by toxins can be mitigated by Consequences; however, Consequences incurred due to toxins cannot be removed via natural processes while the toxin persists (though they can be treated by advanced medicine or magic, for example).  If a subject suffers stress from a toxin beyond what his stress tracks can handle, he is Taken Out as normal in a manner appropriate to the toxin (usually death, but sometimes paralysis or unconsciousness).  Subjects that are Taken Out, but not killed, via toxin continue to roll against it every attack interval; they remain Taken Out until the toxin is shed.

Additional exposure to the same toxin adds one point to the toxin’s Strength and Persistence.



  • Poison, injury
  • Strength 3 vs Health
  • Persistence OOO
  • Interval 1 minute
  • Onset 1 minute

Curare is a brown, sticky paste-like poison prepared from various alkaloid plants native to the Amazon basin.  It functions as a muscle relaxant and kills via paralysis of the diaphragm.  Appropriate Consequences involve muscular weakness and slowed reflexes.  A subject that is Taken Out via curare poisoning is completely paralyzed, and cannot breathe or move any part of his body.  Subjects in this state typically die within a few minutes, but can be kept alive until the toxin wears off via artificial respiration.


  • Disease, airborne
  • Strength 1 vs Health
  • Persistence OOO OO
  • Interval 12 hours
  • Onset 1 day

Influenza is a disease transmitted via mucus contact, often in the form of aerosolized particles.  It varies in severity; the statistics presented here represent an “average” flu.  Symptoms (and appropriate Consequences) involve weakness, nausea, fatigue, cough and sneezing, and body aches and soreness.  Influenza kills via extreme immune response, which leads to high fever and internal swelling.  It also weakens the immune system, rendering the subject vulnerable to pneumonia and other diseases.

Drow Poison

  • Poison, injury
  • Strength 4 vs Composure
  • Persistence O
  • Interval 1 hour
  • Onset 1 minute

Drow poison is a powerful sleeping drug commonly used by dark elves.  In susceptible individuals it tends to induce unconsciousness after one minute; this unconsciousness usually lasts for several hours.  In hardier subjects the poison induces transient drowsiness, slowed reflexes, confusion, and delirium.

Ravening Curse

  • Curse
  • Strength 3 vs Health
  • Persistence –
  • Interval 1 day
  • Onset immediate

The Ravening Curse is a powerful enchantment that causes a subject to rapidly lose weight, stamina, and muscle tone whilst provoking a powerful, insatiable hunger.  The subject is compelled to eat constantly and yet continues to lose weight.  The curse is frequently fatal, and persists until removed.

A better alignment system

Well, perhaps more a “different” system than a “better” one.  The 3.x alignment system has a lot going for it — the two axes help to cover a lot of ground, and on the surface, at least, it’s fairly simple, but contains a fair bit of depth and subtlety for those who really want to dig into it.  On the downside, its ambiguity is sometimes a weakness.  Also, there are at least two or three of the alignments that real-life humans simply never hold to.  (Seriously, there isn’t a person in the world who is Lawful Neutral.  Javert is a caricature, not a character.)

The problem I have with 3.x alignment is twofold — one, that there isn’t really a matter of scale.  A Chaotic Evil barbarian reaver is “just as evil” as an actual, literal demon.  Okay, not precisely true, as the demon has the “evil” subtype and the barbarian presumably doesn’t.  So this is a minor complaint.  The real issue I have is that the alignment definitions are really very unclear.  Distinguishing between Lawful Good and Neutral Good, for example, can be quite difficult — both are definitely in the “good guy” camp, archetypically, but … one is more concerned with being law-abiding than the other?  I mean we all know that those Chaotic Good types will happily flout any laws that get in the way of their own fun, so long as nobody is getting hurt in the process (making CG the “philosophical hedonist” alignment), but where’s the line between Lawful and Neutral Good?  I don’t have a good answer.  Ditto True Neutral — there are quite a few different ways to interpret TN, and none of them make sense for a creature with moral agency.  And then there’s the question of just what it means to be Lawful, in general — the hallmark of Lawful is obedience, but obedience can take many forms.  Monks, for example, have to be Lawful because of their personal discipline, but does this mean that a monk can’t be a bandit?  Why not, as long as he stays disciplined?  Good question, but I don’t think any self-respecting DM would okay the idea of a Lawful Good bandit.  On the other end of the spectrum is the paladin — obedient to a lord and the law of the land, but could a paladin also be a slob?  Completely personally undisciplined, equipment in poor repair, etc?

In my view, the alignment system could stand a bit more transparency and simplicity.  In addition, I tend to think of alignment as more like “roleplaying notes,” or something more similar to the Nature/Demeanor system of World of Darkness.  If alignment is going to have any in-game effect then it should be rewards along the lines of Willpower or FATE points or the like, not XP penalties and vulnerability to certain magics.

I’m not in favor of scrapping subtypes, since those are useful.  In fact, I’d support expanding the system — give me a good reason why paladins shouldn’t have the “good” subtype.  Holier-than-thou is basically their entire character.  But in general I’d limit them to beings that are defined by their goodness or their evil — humans, no matter how Hitleresque, simply can’t be evil the way a demon can be evil.

An unstated premise here is that humans, and moral agents in general, always believe themselves to be acting rightly.  Even when they’re doing something they know is “wrong,” they don’t generally actually believe they’re doing evil — they’re simply indulging a part of themselves that they know doesn’t toe to the societal “party line.”  An orc is just doing what orcs do — this doesn’t make them any less of a threat to medieval “law and order,” but it does differentiate their brand of “evil” from that of beings that are literal embodiments of the very principle of corruption.

Bearing all that in mind, I’ve come up with seven new alignments that I think pretty effectively cover the full range of realistic human attitudes.  And that’s what these are — attitudes.  Ethoi.  Moral philosophies, rather than metaphysical keywords.  Most people in the world will fall under one of these seven categories, to wit:

Valorous: Concerned with doing the right thing, obeying just laws, and keeping to an explicit code of ethics.  Disciplined, obedient, respectful, chivalrous.  The alignment of knightly ideals and bushido.  It is a high bar to clear, requiring a good deal of self-examination.  Valorous characters will frequently spend time reflecting on their past behaviors, always seeking to act more in line with their personal philosophies.

Honorable: Honorable characters keep their word and help those in need.  They pay their taxes and obey the law.  In their day-to-day behavior they might appear virtually indistinguishable from the Valorous, and indeed there are many similarities between the two.  The difference comes in their degree of self-reflection and self-discipline — Honorable characters simply aren’t as concerned with the ideals of virtue and self-mastery.  For the Honorable, it is enough that they are upstanding citizens — they leave the navel-gazing to the philosophers.

Dominant: Into power, generally for its own sake.  Likes being in charge of any given situation.  Pays a lot of heed to social convention, particularly where power structures are concerned.  Ambitious, seeking to climb to the top of whatever hill might present itself.  May or may not be concerned with the needs and wants of political, social, or economic inferiors, but in the end, those with the Dominant alignment will always sacrifice questions of the “greater good” for the sake of more personal power.

Selfish: Makes decisions primarily based on personal gain.  Holds little concern for rules and restrictions unless paying heed to such rules is absolutely necessary.  Might care about others, but self-interest always comes first.  The Selfish person is greedy and generally cowardly, though if he craves glory then he might seem reckless.  If he seeks power, it is as a means to an end.  A Selfish person is driven by his appetites over and above all else.

Libertarian: The Libertarian is where the Honorable and the Selfish overlap.  His moral philosophy can best be summarized as, “an’ it harm none, do as thou wilt.”  The alignment of thieves with hearts of gold, the Libertarian is generally anti-law, anti-restriction, and anti-authority.  Flouts social convention and societal expectation.  May still hold to a personal code, but that code will be deeply personal.  Does genuinely care for the well-being of others, but may or may not take risks to protect said well-being.

Savage: Respects strength and nothing else.  Follows leaders he perceives to be stronger, attempts to dominate those he perceives to be weaker.   Quick to indulge in threats and violence.  Not necessarily “evil,” or otherwise cruel, but definitely not what polite society considers “nice.”  Typically has no regard for law and order, and little use for civilization.  May or may not harbor protective feelings for those weaker, particularly if they openly recognize him as the stronger.

Amoral: Probably the trickiest alignment for a human to play, it nevertheless deserves a place on the list.  The truly amoral character makes all decisions based on non-moral criteria — physical needs, logic and reason, relative difficulty of the respective choices, whims, anything that doesn’t involve a conception of “right” or “wrong.”  Acts out of need and typically ignores or actively rejects notions of authority.  By definition, has no concern for the well-being of others — or possibly even himself.

As far as use in a game goes?  Well, as I said, these alignments are primarily intended to be roleplay notes.  Yes, there is significant overlap between many of them, but that’s by design.  In a sense, a person’s alignment is meant to be a representation of their moral sine qua non — whatever the one thing is that is most important to their moral identity.  But wanting power above all doesn’t mean you’re generally dishonorable or lacking compassion, just as wanting to be a good person doesn’t mean you don’t break the speed limit from time to time.

So, did I forget anything?  What do you all think?


I came across a game blog earlier today.  It’s written by one Ryan Macklin, a professional game designer, who got into the hobby in 1995 (or so he claims).

In other words, I’ve been into RPGs a good five years longer.  And here he is, professional, making money, winning awards.  And here I am, hack DM.

Not that I’m bitter or resentful, oh no — from what I read, his stuff is fantastic and insightful.  He’s a better designer than me (in that he actually designs rather than cobbling together bits and pieces from others’ brilliance), no question about it, and that’s okay.

It’s good for there to be people out there who are better than you.  It gives you something to strive for.

The bit that troubles me, though, is that I have no Goddamn idea how to get better.

Sometimes you can clearly see the star you navigate by, and you can chart your course based on those who have gone before.  But in this instance, I’m … it’s like I can’t even see the ocean, or the boat, or anything but the stars.  Like a huge chasm that I’ve no idea how to cross.

Ultimately I’d like to contribute, to make my mark.  But I’ve really no idea where to begin.

The Icons of Azeroth

13th Age and I are BFFs for life.  I think I might like it better than FATE but nobody tell FATE I said that, okay?

Anyway, I had this idea while I was driving from Texas to New Jersey that if you wanted to run a tabletop World of Warcraft game you could really do a lot worse than use 13th Age’s ARCHMAGE system to do it with.  Now, granted, someone (Blizzard, probably) put out a WoW RPG a long while ago.  It was just your standard d20 clone, nothing remarkable about it.  And yeah, just using d20 would work fine.

But we can do better.  That’s why we’re here.

There might be a couple posts’ worth of material in this idea.  To start with, I’d like to see if we can come up with a solid 13 Icons for Azeroth.  Icons, for those not in the know, are the “Masters of the Universe” in a campaign setting — they’re the movers and shakers, the leaders and conquerors.  But an Icon is an archetype, or an office, more than an individual — if an individual Icon dies, in many cases, another can take on the mantle.  (This is not always true — while the Dwarf King, or the President of the United States, are examples of Icons who could easily be replaced, the Great Gold Wyrm and Hitler are not.)

So who are the Icons of World of Warcraft?

The Warchief of the Horde: This one’s obvious.  The leader of an entire faction of people definitely has the global reach to be considered an Icon.  Interestingly, though, the flavor of this Icon changes depending on who the Warchief actually is.  The Warchiefs of old were clearly along the lines of the Orc Lord, as was Garrosh; while Thrall and (one hopes) Vol’jin seem to be taking the office in a new direction.

The Lich King: Again, obvious.  The path to this Icon was different than in 13th Age, but the end result is the same.  The tenor of this Icon has changed somewhat from the “old days,” now that Bolvar’s put on the helm; still, the Lich King endures.

The Black Prince: Wrathion fills a Prince of Shadows-type niche here, but from the “other end” of the Rogue arts — he’s more the “master of assassins” than he is “beggar king.”  Either way, he definitely keeps his fingers in all the pies.

Guardian: Possibly a vacated Icon, depending on if you want to count Med’an (I don’t); regardless, the Guardian played a strong role in the history of Azeroth, and given that Med’an continues the story, it’s possible that there could one day be a new Guardian (who isn’t a total Sue).  This role is closest in tone to the Crusader — a being of great puissance whose purpose is keeping the demons in check.

Leader of the Kirin Tor: I don’t know if this office has a “proper” title, like Archmage; regardless, I think that the organization’s reserve of magical power and global reach warrants the inclusion of its leader as an Icon.

The Banshee Queen: While Sylvanas ostensibly has no more power than any of the other faction leaders, she earns a spot on this list thanks to her agenda of “murdering everything that lives.”  She remains technically subservient to the Warchief, but we all know just how hollow that obeisance is.  Sylvanas could be cast as the Lich King, or perhaps as the inheritor to the Diabolist — either way, she’s the current face of evil on Azeroth.

The Prophet: I’m going to go ahead and include Velen on this list only because he shares an agenda with Wrathion — both of them foresee the coming of the Legion, and both of them are frantically searching for a way to stem the tide.  This forward-looking attitude sets Velen apart from the other leaders of the Alliance, and inclines him, in principle, to involve himself in the wider world.  However, his pattern of inaction renders his position on this list shaky.

The King of Stormwind: I’m going to give Varian a pass on this one as well.  While the Alliance doesn’t have a titular leader, it’s apparent that, for the time being, Varian is the de facto head of the faction.  Including him as an Icon is shaky, though, because his ascension to that kind of power is very recent, and there’s no guarantee that Anduin would enjoy the same prestige were his father to die.  (In fact, Anduin would likely rise as a new Icon – the King-Priest.)  Nevertheless, in contemporary Azerothian politics, Varian has the cachet to be an Icon.

The High Druid: Malfurion might not have an actual title but he fills this Icon’s shoes fairly reliably.  He’s important enough that he commands the loyalty of non-elves — his prestige, in fact, crosses factional boundaries.  Like the 13th Age High Druid, there might not always be one — but for now, there is, and he’s a force to be reckoned with.

Thrall: I think Thrall qualifies as a Great Gold Wyrm-esque Icon.  Sure, there’s only one Thrall and there will only ever be one Thrall, but like Malfurion, he is powerful and respected.  The Horde still looks up to him as Warchief Emeritus, and even the Icons of the Alliance remember the days when they fought together as ersatz allies.  Players from either faction would happily accept quests from Thrall, and this, I think, makes him Iconic.

The Demon Queen: Azshara’s still out there, somewhere.  Given her power, and the threat she represents, I’d be at least moderately surprised if she didn’t show up as the villain in the next expansion.  If Azeroth still has a Diabolist, it’s almost certainly her.

So there’s eleven.  There’d be more but we, as players, have a pattern of murdering the hell out of villainous icons.  The Destroyer (Deathwing).  The Lord of Twilight (Benedictus).  The Blood Prince (Kael’thas).  The Betrayer (Illidan).  The entire Black Dragonflight, who would have easily been Azeroth’s Three.  The only reason there’s still a Lich King is because there must always be a Lich King.  You get the idea.

So why aren’t the rest of the faction leaders included?  Why no Elf Queen or Dwarf King?  Essentially because, in my opinion, as Azeroth currently stands, those leaders aren’t important enough to be Iconic.  Take Tyrande, for example, or Lor’themar.  While both of them command great influence among their own people, that’s really as far as that influence goes — as players, the only time you take quests from Tyrande is when you’re leveling through Teldrassil.  Even as blood elves, you don’t interact with Lor’themar at all during the endgame.  Other than the ones mentioned above, the faction leaders just don’t have the global presence to be Icons.

How about the dragons?  Well, prior to Cataclysm, the Aspects would certainly have been Iconic, Nozdormu and Alexstrasza in particular.  But now, stripped of their station, the great dragons are merely dragons.  Their part in the story seems to be over.

World of Warcraft is an environment in flux, and necessarily so — as the story changes, so do the players.  As a result, Azerothian Icons may rise and fall with more regularity than those in 13th Age.  Nevertheless, it’s fairly easy to spot them, and it’d be quite straightforward to make use of the system to integrate them into a campaign.

Next: adopting 13th Age classes.

Site Updates!

We’ve made a few small changes here at Words of Power.  Nothing too drastic — they’re all quality-of-life changes enabled my the fantastic functionality that comes with WordPress.

For starters, this is a change I’ve been wanting to make almost since day one: you can now access the blog by going to the top page!  I’m assuming the old URL will probably still work, as will any RSS feeds you’ve happened to set up.  But from now on, to visit the blog, all you have to do is type sandmangaming.com into your browser.  Um.  You all know how web browsers work, what am I saying.

Change two!  Permalinks!  Every post can now be linked to using its title, instead of having to use the post ID.  A nice little change, I think.

Finally, all of the tags and categories can be accessed directly.  If you want to, say, see everything I’ve said about D&D, you can go to www.sandmangaming.com/tagged/d&d.  If you want to see all of the posts under the “Game Design” category, go to www.sandmangaming.com/category/game-design.

So have fun playing with the new toys.  I’ve got a few updates simmering in my brain-space, and I’ll be inflicting them upon sharing them with you presently.

EDIT: Turns out that in fact you can’t access the site at /blog anymore, and you’ll need to update your RSS feeds if you want to see future posts.  Sorry!

What’s the Buzz?

And we’re back!

No need to go into the details of the hiatus.  A shift in personal priorities, a lack of time, a new job, ill-advised liaisons with various MMOs…obstacles were encountered, endured, overcome, and we have re-emerged, triumphant, the heads of our enemies on pikes, lamentation of their women, etc.  You know the drill, I’m sure.

So where are we, gaming-wise?

Preparations are underway for the launch of a new campaign with my long-time gaming group.  I’ve hacked together yet another Promethean set of rules variants for 3.5, and the group in general will be building the campaign setting using the Dawn of Worlds rules with (of course) a few additions and changes.  Because we can’t play anything straight, oh no, I think I have a geas against that or something.  Why not just switch to Pathfinder?  Partially because I haven’t had the time or inclination to fully-absorb the rulebooks the way I have with 3.5.  Partially because I still have the sense that 3.5 is a slightly more flexible system, which may or may not be relevant in the future.  Pathfinder seems to have addressed most of the problems of 3.5 by adding more rules, making things more specific, more situational, more dissociated mechanics.  Maybe that’s my impression merely because I haven’t absorbed the rulebooks yet, maybe not.  I digress.

Yes, starting a new campaign.  A lot of that is because the previous campaign just felt lackluster; we were running a game set in my Zodiac campaign universe, but it didn’t really seem to be going anywhere.  Also because I’ve been reading a lot over the last few weeks, and I want to introduce some of the new ideas I’ve had into a brand new, fresh game that comes without any design baggage on my part.

Regrettably, my job keeps me away from home for weeks at a time, so play, for the foreseeable future, will remain infrequent.  I’m hoping to at least partially address this through the incorporation of some downtime rules, which I’ll touch on in a minute.

At the moment, that’s all the gaming I can manage.  I did play a session in Carter’s OSR game but that was months ago, and I’m almost never around on Sundays so I can’t really count that as an active game.  Nevertheless, I still think fondly of Don Ximen, and there’s a good chance he’ll be showing up elsewhere.

So, what have I been reading?

Well, first of all, I got hold of the revised FATE book.  It was something I kickstarted and it arrived a few months back.  The book itself is solid, and it is conveniently half the size of standard RPG books.  Unfortunately, I haven’t really read more than the first two chapters.  The second chapter gives some good advice on getting a campaign started, which is conveniently-timed.  Given that it’s FATE, I’m sure the rest of the book is going to be awesome.

What I’m reading right now is Pathfinder’s Ultimate Campaign.  It’s a book of resources for generating character backstories, handling downtime, building kingdoms, managing reputation, and a bunch of other systems that don’t necessarily have to do with the meat-and-potatoes of daily adventuring.  There’s lots of good stuff in there, most of which I’m probably going to steal in one form or another.  It’s also making me want to start actually reading the other Pathfinder books, if for no other reason than I want to know what some of these classes I’ve never heard of are like.  (Sage?  Oracle?  Gunslinger?  Good stuff.)

I think the thing I’m most excited about, as I mentioned before, are the downtime rules.  While the details haven’t been hashed out yet, I’m hoping I can talk the players into, say, 2d6 months of downtime between sessions, which we can handle on the Obsidian Portal site.  I’d like to see the characters involved with building businesses, getting involved with investments, managing reputation and fame, really becoming part of a living campaign world.  Perhaps, if their ambitions tend in that direction, I’ll even have them found a kingdom.  The book provides what look like solid rules for all that nonsense, and I’m eager to see how it turns out.

The other book I’ve been reading through is Pelgrane Press’s 13th Age.  You might have heard of this, it’s been a pretty big deal recently.  I ordered my copy before I was even halfway through the PDF.  There’s so much good stuff in there, the system is so interesting to me personally, that I kind of want to play in a game rules as-written.

Others have spent a lot of time talking about 13th Age and I can’t really add anything to that on a critical level.  On a personal level, the things that appeal the most to me about the game are twofold: firstly, its built-in mechanisms for having the characters relate to the Powers of the world (what the book calls Icons).  Second, there’s a lot of emphasis on description and roleplaying rather than pure mechanics.  It’s a halfway point between FATE and 3.5, and especially for my gaming group, I think that’s right in the sweet spot.

I’ll be stealing a few things in particular.  Firstly, the Icons.  Icons are, as I mentioned, the movers and shakers of the campaign world.  To be an Icon is to be an archetype, a living title; to be sure, Icons can change or be killed, but a new Icon arises, or a new hero inherits the position of the previous.  (The king is dead, long live the king.)  This mechanic slots in nicely with Dawn of Worlds’ Avatars — the one becomes the other, and Avatars that players create during the Dawn session will become the Icons for the campaign.

The second thing is the Backgrounds.  This is such a beautiful, elegant way to handle skills, I think I clapped with delight when I first read the section.  Essentially, instead of having specific skills, you have Backgrounds which describe a job, special training, or an unusual experience your character might have had before becoming an adventurer.  (For example, instead of having Bluff and Diplomacy, you might have “Junior Diplomat to the Kingdom of Barrowbrook.”)  Then, when a situation involving a skill check comes up, you explain to the DM why one of your Backgrounds would have given you some ability in that area.  If the DM agrees, you roll your Background like it’s a skill.  Otherwise, it’s just a flat ability check.

There are a few more things I’m stealing, but this entry has gone on long enough.  I just want to mention the Escalation Die: this is a mechanic whereby the characters gain an increasing bonus to attacks and damage the longer combat goes on.  Usually the NPCs don’t share the bonus, but important ones can.  This is cool.

The one complaint I have about the game is that it incorporates too much from 4e.  Too many dissociated mechanics, “encounter powers,” “daily powers,” things like that.  I’ve never liked the notion of encounter powers and I’m not overly fond of daily powers, except in very specific circumstances.  Nevertheless, that’s more a matter of personal preference than flawed design.

Anyway, that’s where we’re at.  Thanks to everyone who has read this far, and to everyone who’s stuck around during our long sleep.  You rock! \o/