Firing to Suppress

No, I haven't forgotten about my Gears and Gunpowder campaign (although we haven't started it yet either). I'm still mulling over ideas for themes, and jotting down notes for the general setting.

I've an idea for the campaign that has echoes of the 100 Bullets comic series. Corruption, cartels, and a conspiracy that dates back centuries (I won't say any more than that, for fear of spoilers).

Thankfully, thinking about gangsters and gunfights has given me some ideas for updating my firearms rules. So, with that in mind, I give you my new rules for suppressive fire. Now you can shout out "cover me!" and have it actually mean something.

SUPPRESSIVE FIRE

When making a ranged weapon attack with a firearm, you can choose to fire to suppress. Only firearms fitted with a magazine can be used for suppressive fire.

Firing to suppress: When firing to suppress, you take a -2 penalty to your attack roll, and must fire one or more additional rounds of loaded ammunition. These additional rounds automatically miss. After the attack has been resolved, the target must pass a saving throw or become suppressed until the end of their next turn. For every additional round that was fired, they receive a -1 penalty to this saving throw.

Hitting the dirt: The target can choose to fall prone as a free action when they make their saving throw. Doing so grants a +5 bonus to the save, and cancels all penalties imposed by multiple shots.

SUPPRESSED

• You grant combat advantage.
• Your speed is halved.
• Enemies have partial concealment if they are 5 or more squares from your position.

USING "AID ANOTHER" FOR SUPPRESSIVE FIRE

Creatures can also use the Aid Another action in combat to help an ally suppress their enemy.

Aid Another (Standard Action)

You fire one or more rounds of ammunition at an enemy to turn the next ranged attack made against them by one of your allies into a suppressive fire attack. All rounds that you fire automatically miss. Any firearm can be used for this purpose, including those that do not have a magazine.

The ally does not gain the +2 bonus to their attack roll that is normally granted by aiding, but does not need to fire to suppress. Once the attack has been resolved, the target makes a saving throw as though it had been targeted by a suppressive fire attack. When calculating the saving throw penalty, additional rounds fired by aiding creatures are counted in addition to those that may have been fired by the ally.

The Rhônic Saddle

Brixton stares into the face of death yet again...

I killed somebody the other week.

Hush. Though it would be particularly wonderful to confess to murder through the medium of a poorly-subscribed RPG blog, this particular slaying occurred in-game. I killed Sandy's character. Killed him good, in fact. With a dragon.

Now. A lot of people will tell you DMs shouldn't ever use Coup de Grace. It's unfair, and it looks like you're picking on your players. Ignore them. 4th Edition characters are tough, and sometimes the only way to kill them is to get your licks in when they're down. Especially if they deserve it.

But this sudden turn of events left Sandy with a bit of a dilemma. Should he bring his character back, or roll up a new one? Death is often an opportunity for reinvention, but in a way Brixton was beginning to scrape the barrel. In the past, he'd come back as a vampire (which the rest of the party promptly slew), as a stoic paladin who lasted for about ten minutes, even as a cursed assassin wreathed in shadow. Where could he possibly go next?

I think I came up with something fairly unique (well, I did until Sandy pointed out I'd basically lifted it from Raymond E. Feist's Magician). I'd been meaning to give Brixton his first magical artifact for a while, and the dragon's lair was the perfect place to find it. When he died, he fell within inches of the most powerful item he'd ever seen. Perhaps a splinter of that artifact's power could pull him back? Maybe even bring him back with a rekindled purpose?

The Rhônic Saddle is imbued with the spirit of a long-dead king: last ruler of a kingdom of boasters, thrill-seekers, and horse-masters. Those who ride it gain great power, but also suffer a terrible curse. The king's spirit whispers to them in dreams, long-forgotten by morning, but subconsciously compelling them throughout the day to perform deeds of glory and daring.

Give in to these urges, and they risk death at every turn. Deny them and the curse takes control, forcing them to act against their will.

Being a mount slot item, this artifact may have limited usefulness in your games, but who knows? It could be just what you're looking for. We've not played it yet, so there may be some kinks to iron out, but I'm fairly confident it will work well at the table. See what you think.

Thanks to Sandy for the image of Brixton at the top of this post - definitely my favourite he's done so far. And thanks to Stacey for spending this afternoon drawing the saddle. It's exactly as I imagined it.

(If you're playing in my game, you may not want to read this. Spoilers, spoilers)

Illusion Cards: Gloaming and Day of the Dead

Ah, it's you. How have you been? Marvellous.

Here are two more cards for my Deck of Illusions. I guess we're about halfway there now, and I'm loving the symbolism that Sandy's cooked into this pairing. A pool of spilt blood, a candle about to be snuffed, and an army of marching moon-heads. What can it all mean?

Maybe something, maybe nothing. A while back, I congratulated him for including exactly 13 spears on one of his cards - and it honestly came as a surprise that he had.

In a way, I do a similar thing in my D&D games: include random symbolism on the spur of the moment, and build in meaning later on. In our present campaign, Splug returned from the dead with a mysterious map scratched into his back, Swaard heard a strangely-worded prophecy when he died, and Dia discovered she was the legendary "Starfallen". In each case, I dropped these in with no idea where they'd lead, and thought up meanings later (in some cases, years later). Occasionally, hooks like these lead to wonderful things that make me look clever in retrospect. In other cases, they're simply forgotten.

A handful of things that have worked well in previous campaigns:

• The strange feeling you're being watched. Later on, this can be attributed to near enough anybody.
• A mysterious gift left on the doorstep. Who it's been left by - and why it's been left so mysteriously - can be slotted in later.
• Strange tattoos found on the bodies of slain enemies. These are ultimately uncovered as marks of a cult/secret lottery/whatever.
• A device with no obvious meaning. Later on, its purpose is revealed when it suddenly starts glowing/ticking/summoning devils.

Simple stuff really, but some of my best stories have grown from these. Even better, many of them have grown from my players talking about the possibilities around the table. I may be smiling and winking mysteriously, but really I'm thinking "bloody hell, that's a great idea!"

Aegis of Ages

This week's article is all about the Stunned condition: a much-maligned rule that's fallen out of favour of late. Back in the heady days of the original Monster Manual, stun appeared all over the place. Dragons, for example, used to stun their opponents as part of their Frightful Presence attack. Nowadays, in the halcyon age of the Monster Manual III, they simply don't.

Not that ditching Stunned is a real issue to me (although I have to say, ditching Frightful Presence is). Nobody wants to miss out on their turn, especially with rounds sometimes taking upwards of ten minutes to rotate. The concept may have a precedent in card and board game design, but Dungeons & Dragons isn't a game of Uno.

We've had similar issues in my 3rd Edition campaign, with a PC called Hamish: a half-orc fighter/barbarian played by my good friend James. Hamish has a really bad Will save, and no matter how many Periaphs of Wisdom or Iron Will feats he bolts on, he simply always fails those charm saves. It's like the dice are playing to his character. Hamish has been possessed, scared off, dominated, charmed - the works. And consequently, James has spent a long time waiting for conditions to wear off. Hours. Days, probably, if you add up all the adventures we've played over the years.

The last time Hamish got possessed it was by an ancient sorcerer queen called Akasi. We ended the session on that cliffhanger, so I had a good while to think about what could happen next. We don't get to play so often nowadays, and I didn't want James sitting it out. So I had an idea: instead of being lost, Hamish's mind could be banished into a labyrinth carved into the wall, where it would be hunted down by ravenous spirits.

Whilst Hamish's body rushed about under Akasi's control, our sorcerer managed to project her own mind into the labyrinth to aid him. So we ended up with a battle taking place simultaneously in two locations. It was pretty intense, and allowed James to play without actually controlling Hamish directly.

When thinking about Stunned, my mind went back to that Akasi encounter, and I wondered if we could do a similar thing in 4th Edition. In the end, I came up with the encounter provided here, which we ran at the finale of the Battle of Moonstair.

In brief, the party went up against a grimlock champion who carried a sentient magical shield. Every time the shield Stunned them, it hurled their minds back in time to fight its previous owners. If they could beat the champions of the past, the shield would grant them an edge in the present. To fully test the concept, I modelled the grimlock champion around the original Monster Manual's most notorious stun-beast: the Dracolich (updated to Monster Manual III maths).

Of course, the trick only works once: it's by no means a "fix" for the Stunned condition. But hopefully it'll be a memorable encounter for your group - as it was for mine.

Illusion Cards: Thieves and the Archer

Behold! Two more cards for my Deck of Illusions.

Neither of these turned out quite as I expected, but I'm pleased with them both. I love how the thieves give the impression of being slightly clumsy - but who's betting those magic daggers still cut deep?

Actually, I'm surprised Sandy picked these cards to draw up next, as neither played a particularly prominent role in our game. The Archer wasn't even drawn: it was one of just two cards left after Devlin met the Master. Thieves appeared near the end of H3: Pyramid of Shadows, drawn as the Company battled through a tight maze of haunted passageways. It should have been perfect timing - allowing them to sneak past the banshees that roamed the maze - but sadly Sephirius was having one of those games, and just couldn't shake off the immobilising effects of their screams. So they couldn't leave him.

Splitting the party is famously bad tactics for most D&D players (not least, abandoning party members). Just the suggestion of it gets certain members of my group aghast - probably due to a famous incident back in 3rd Edition. Whilst exploring a besieged citadel tower, two 10th level characters decided to leave the others and quickly scout a stairway alone. "Should we be splitting up?", asked one. "Meh. We can take it", said the other (and that's an actual quote). Three rounds later both PCs were dead: one lying mangled with a broken neck, the other being absorbed by a Lovecraftian Moonbeast. That's eighteen seconds.

Thaumatic Themes: Ragwheeler

In truth, I thought about transferring "Tabletop" over to 4th Edition back when it first came out. I spent a few weeks in autumn 2009 working up my own classes, but then things picked up in our main campaign, and I realised people weren't going to want to switch. I'm glad now we didn't - the last three years have given me a much clearer understanding of the system, and I'm in a better position now to start a homebrew campaign. But those early class ideas became the basis of the themes I'm looking at today. Or, at least, they did until Sandy and Mike got involved. Damn them.

The problem with game designers is they always want to design their own stuff. Stacey loved the "Bombardier", but when I presented Sandy with the "Deathcrook" - another of my old classes I'd boiled down into a theme - he wasn't quite so sold. Personally, I couldn't understand why not: a class that could steal the souls of those it killed, and use them as fuel for necrotic attacks - even summon them as minions? What's not to like?

However, when Sandy mailed me through a near-complete theme of his own devising, I had to swallow my pride. Because his creation - which we named the "Ragwheeler" - was something special: a slave bound to its masters through a deadly shackle. Powers aside, what I loved about this was the flavour. Reading his description of the work-slum, I really got an image of what these poor blighters had to live through - and that's exactly what a theme should do.

But don't just take my word for it: take a look for yourselves. I'm really looking forward to seeing this in action!

If you like it, or have any suggestions, please drop me a comment. This time, I promise I won't delete them! (I'm still getting used to Blogger, as on Friday I accidentally deleted all of the previous comments whilst playing around with the dashboard. Doh.)

The Deck of Illusions

The Deck of Illusions is kind of the ugly, unloved twin to the Deck of Many Things. Whilst it shares the same design - pull a card from a deck to produce a random, magical effect - there's none of the risk that makes Deck of Many Things so thrilling to use. Essentially, all the cards are the same. You just summon an illusion.

I suppose the fun bit is coming up with how to usefully apply these illusions to your situation. This lich could be used to scare off your enemies, but it could also engage them in conversation, right? Perhaps even trick them into following it?

Sadly, no: the second edition rules seem to imply that the illusions aren't even under your control ("The illusions perform normal routines and respond to attacks - they should be played as if they were real creatures"). Back then, the vast majority of cards basically had a single use: scare the pants off your enemies from afar. Kind of sucks if you pull the Pixies card.

3rd Edition clarified the rules so that the illusions reproduced the effects of a Major Image spell, but locked into a predefined form. I guess we can actually control them now, but as they were relatively easily disbelieved with a save - at least, they were in my experience - I still view the deck as nothing much to write home about.

For my 4th Edition game, I thought this artifact deserved a reinvention. When creating the deck, I had a couple of design goals in mind:

• I wanted to give each card an effect that had a clear use in combat. A few of these could be bad for the user, just like the Deck of Many Things. One of them - the Master - could even be deadly.
• I wanted to preserve the ability for players to think up clever ways of controlling their illusions. In the end, this worked best as an at-will artifact power, separate from the card powers.

As you'll see, it turned out very differently to the old Deck of Illusions. I think you'll find it useful in your games: our group's wizard used it to great effect throughout H3: Pyramid of Shadows, so I've had a chance to rebalance the powers after seeing them in play. Oh, and check out the lore for the Prince card - after all his adventures, I couldn't write this up without mentioning our own, friendly wizard at least once.

It goes without saying that you're missing a trick if you don't print out the cards yourselves and provide them to your players as a proper handout. To that end, Sandy's working through the deck now, polishing up the card designs and presenting his own spins to each one. I'll be presenting his designs here on the blog over the next few months, after which I'll wrap them up into a single, made-for-print doc.

Lastly, if you do use it, make sure to drop me a line here and let us know how it went. It would really make our day to know our deck is being used at other tables!