AD&D 2e Play Report: Session 10

This week, we played the 10th session of our ongoing AD&D 2e campaign. The play report for our last session is here.

To recap, the party scouted out the Wolfkin Tribe camp to determine how best to stop them from raiding local lumber mills. They listened in on a conversation between the tribe chieftain and druid, and determined that there was a divide between the two of them. The party slashed their way into the chieftain's tent, and with a fortunate casting of hold person and some unexpected help from the druid, slew the chieftain easily.

The druid, Feli, told them that the tribe was raiding mills due to a breached agreement with the town of Houndrun. Now that the offending mill had been razed, Feli was seeking peace. He asked that the party negotiate with the town on the tribe's behalf. He also suggested that it would be best to eliminate one of the subchiefs, Noa, who was likely to follow in the chieftain's vengeful footsteps. This would allow Feli to install a new chieftain who he could shape into a more neutral figurehead.

The party agreed. Karven Stone snuck into Noa's tent at night and killed him, and the party crept off into the woods before daybreak. They avoided some giant battling beetles on their way back to town, convinced the lumber company in Houndrun to let the razed lumber mill remain pillaged, and proceeded to collect some rumors about other jobs in the region. They learned about hobgoblins kidnapping villagers near Grimerun, where they already had a forest beast to hunt, so they decided to go there next.

The Long Road (Again)

The party traveled from Houndrun to Southreach in a day without incident. In the city, they briefly stopped in at the Gladiators of Patience's guildhall. The Gladiators were not present (I had decided that they plane shifted to the Bone Lord's Bone Castle in the Gray Wastes to do battle with Him there - I like the idea that the very high-level adventurers are always off doing very high-level shenanigans whenever the party goes looking for them). 

The party left a message for them about Lord Montaigu, the evil wizard lording over the town of Mythshire - as if they didn't know about it already! - in case the Gladiators would want to do something about it. I don't want to set a precedent where all of the big threats and antagonistic powers in the region are taken care of by NPCs before the party ever reaches the higher levels, so I plan to come up with some rigamarole about how the Gladiators don't get involved in politics, or how dealing with an evil wizard lording over a town is some 5th-level adventurer tedium with which they won't sully their hands.

The party traveled another day to Mythshire without incident - no evil adventurers in sight this time, and no indication as to what Lord Montaigu is doing with his newly-acquired pegasus eggs. They continued north on the long road back to Spiritbrook, a three-and-a-half-day journey.

Traveling Merchants (Again)

Along the way, the party had a random encounter with some merchants, again. In an earlier session, the party had encountered some crab merchants, and last session, I thought it'd be funny if they encountered them again. I suppose I could just totally run the joke into the ground at this point, but that wasn't my inclination here. Instead I said "You know, they're merchants. They've got stuff. Anyone wanna buy anything?"

Which of course they didn't. They just came from two towns and a city. If they wanted to buy something, they would have done it in one of those places. Not my proudest moment. I guess I was disappointed at getting this result again and just wanted to move on, which is either a sign that I should have rerolled (sometimes rolling dice is a good way to find out what I actually want to happen), or that I need to think about how to make these encounters more interesting.

A random encounter with merchants should be like any other random encounter - an auspicious opportunity or a potential setback or threat. It could be a chance to buy something the party otherwise might not be able to procure - namely, I'm thinking about magic items, probably at a reduced cost, since the players are always complaining about how expensive they are.

One option would be for every traveling merchant to be an emissary from the Bazaar of the Bizarre - a very video game-y, extradimensional space where magic items of all kinds can be procured. Another option would be for there to be some variability between merchants, which I prefer - these merchants are selling potions, these ones have scrolls, arms and armor, rings, miscellaneous magic, etc. That would be easy enough to determine using the magic item tables.

Another option for more diversity would be to randomly generate 1d4, 1d6, 1d8 items, or something like that. A given merchant might have five items - two potions, a sword, a stave, and a magic book, for example. That might take more time to generate at the table, but could be more interesting.

I could also take the merchants' alignment into account - Lawful Good merchants will only sell to people they view as upstanding citizens, Neutral merchants will sell to anyone, and Chaotic Evil merchants only sell cursed or bogus items and then run off with their ill-gotten gold. This would also let me leverage alignment-based reaction rolls to set prices - the better the reaction, the better the discount, maybe. Something to think about, and likely a topic for a future post.

30 Orcs

The party reached Spiritbrook without further incident and continued onto Grasshold. Halfway there, as they were setting camp, they spotted a band of 30 orcs roving across the farmland. One of the things I love about AD&D is that encounters like this are not only possible, but highly likely. Not knowing the orcs' intentions, the party looked to hide. 

Haymond Baler's player asked what kind of crops were growing around here. Uh, I totally know the answer to that. Why did he ask? He was wondering if the party could hide in there. Great! Always ask the players' intentions. It gives more time to think and make a satisfying ruling. I rolled a d100 and got a 98, so the party was in luck - the local crop provided 90% concealment! They broke camp quickly and took cover.

I rolled another d100 and got less than 90, so the orcs passed by without noticing the party. The orcs were rabbling in Orcish, which no one in the party speaks, so they were unable to discern what the orcs were going on about. They had come from the direction of the ogre den near Grasshold, so maybe it had something to do with that.

I had actually determined that the orcs were friendly (I got a reaction roll of 10), but I hadn't the faintest idea as to what they might want from the party or what they were doing there, so I was somewhat relieved that the players chose to avoid them.

Concerning Hobbits

The party proceeded through Grasshold, the largest of the towns in the area (which will become relevant later), and then Stormhelm, eventually making their way to Grimerun without incident (it was three days of travel from the orc encounter to Grimerun). 

Grimerun is a small village primarily consisting of halflings. It's located where two rivers intersect, on the edge of a small pond which is in turn on the edge of a huge swamp. It's muddy due to frequent flooding and there are a lot of bugs. This is the first time the party has been to a smaller village, so I felt it important to make those distinctions.

The party stayed at a local flophouse, the Full Lady. The painted sign depicts a halfling woman full to bursting, which I suggested seemed like some sort of fetish the proprietor had. The party talked to some of the locals about the forest beast which had been terrorizing the town, and it was suggested that they talk to Jakayla, a hunter who lived in a lodge in the forest outside the village.

The next morning, the party visited Jakayla, a middle-aged human ranger, who offered to take them to the most recent location where the beast had attacked. Along the way, they encountered some forest people.

This is the fourth group of "tribesmen" the party has encountered during the campaign. Like with the traveling merchants, it seems inevitable that this encounter will come up time and time again, so I'm trying to think of ways it can be interesting rather than simply potentially "problematic". I don't have any ideas yet.

The tribesmen were friendly, and Jakayla was familiar with them, so the party asked if they knew anything about the forest beast. I got a reaction of indifferent, so I decided that they preferred not to say - they were superstitious, and viewed the beast as a demon of some kind which it was better not to speak aloud of. The party accepted this and went on their way.

Luring the Beast

The party arrived at the site of the most recent beast attack - a ten-foot-wide, thirty-foot-deep pit in the earth. Jakayla told them that similar pits were present at the other attack sites. I asked the players to make Wisdom checks, and they all succeeded. They detected an aroma of rotting fruit from within. I asked Haymond's player to make an Intelligence check with a bonus of +4, which he failed. The scent did not bring anything to mind.

Based on the location of the attacks, Jakayla suggested that the beast hunted in a 12-mile radius. The party was not enthused about climbing down into a hole and skulking about in those tunnels.

Instead, they started devising a trap for the beast. Could they climb down into the tunnel, start a fire, and try smoking it out? Probably not, because the tunnel system would have to be huge. If anything, that would only keep the beast away from them. Could they bait the entrance of the tunnel, and lure the beast into a trap?

We started discussing the logistics of doing so. This took a while, but since we were talking about solving an in-game problem, it felt very much like we were still playing the game, and so I didn't mind at all. None of us know anything about setting traps, but we've all seen Predator, which seemed good enough.

The party decided to fashion sharpened sticks from wood in the area, then surround the pit with a giant lasso of sorts, with the sharpened stakes worked into it - a sort of huge mancatcher. They would loop the other end of the rope over a tree limb above the hole. When the beast emerged, they'd pull on the rope to tighten the spiky lasso around it. That sounded pretty good to me.

There's a proficiency for setting snares in the PHB (page 84), so I used that as a reference. None of the PCs were proficient in this particular skill, but I don't like the idea that a character can't even attempt something they aren't proficient in (especially when it's something enterprising adventurers would likely have some idea how to do), so I decided to use the proficiency description as a guideline and let the party attempt it anyway, with a hefty penalty due to their lack of proficiency, of course.

According to the proficiency description, setting a large trap requires 2 to 3 people and 2d4 hours of work. The skill is available to warriors and rogues, so I decided that Ash, Haymond, and Karven could attempt it. When it was time to spring the trap, they'd each make an ability check with a -6 penalty -according to the proficiency description, Dexterity for thieves like Karven, and Intelligence for warriors like Ash and Haymond, for whatever reason. Ash and Karven both have proficiency in rope use, which I decided applied here, reducing their penalties to -4. If two of the three checks succeeded, the trap would work. The players wouldn't know if it worked until the moment arrived. 

While the party got to work, Jakayla stalked off into the forest to acquire some bait, and returned with a skinned rabbit - nice and bloody and smelling like meat.

I totally didn't expect any of this. I'm not sure why I expected the players to go enthusiastically skulking about in the hole, considering their aversion to danger thus far. At first I was a bit annoyed, as it seemed like this was another quest they'd deem "too scary" to pursue, but once we discussed how they would approach the problem and how I would adjudicate the resolution, it was actually quite satisfying. Going into the hole to fight the monster on its turf is the modern D&D approach. Setting a trap like this felt old-school, but I also had the benefit of a weird, highly specific rule to use as a guideline for my adjudication, which made it feel like we were playing AD&D specifically - an unfairly maligned blend of old and new.

The Beast Emerges

The party waited around for the beast to take the bait. I rolled a few random encounter checks, deciding that the next one would be the beast. To simulate that the party was trying to attract the beast, I rolled twice and took the lower result (i.e., the one more likely to result in an encounter). 

After a few hours, they heard something crawling around below. A pair of wriggling antennae emerged from the opening, and a chitinous, bug-eyed, mandibled head emerged. Haymond's heart sank as he realized he was face to face with the very thing he had been trying to avoid - an ankheg!

Before the beast could react, the party sprung the trap. I asked everyone to make their ability checks, and two of the three of them succeeded! The giant bug-catcher lasso closed around the ankheg's body. The spikes dug into the creature's vulnerable belly, and the party hoisted all eleven feet of the worm-thing into the air. As the rest of the party leapt forward to stab the creature to death, it writhed and shrieked, and let loose a stream of acidic spittle!

I rolled to determine which of the present characters the ankheg would target, and got poor Jakayla. She failed her saving throw versus poison and was hit with the full burst of 8d4 damage. Luckily, it didn't kill her (I had made her a 2nd-level ranger, but in writing this I'm realizing that I gave her the hit points of a 3rd-level ranger - oh well, I would have loved to describe the NPC melting into a pile of steaming bone. Bernhardt quickly tended to her wounds, and Haymond and Karven held the monstrosity aloft while Ash and the hirelings, Sheyla and Yinvalur, stabbed it to death.

Triumphant, the party hauled the ankheg's corpse out of the hole and retreated. Haymond concluded that this was a relatively young ankheg. There would likely be more of them - and bigger ones, too. The party exited the forest to camp on safer ground and return to the site to try their plan again in the morning.

Second Time's the Charm

On their way back to the hole, the party encountered a stag, which they took the opportunity to kill - bigger bait for a bigger worm. They set their trap again and waited. They didn't have to wait long. This time, they got a slightly smaller ankheg - only ten feet long. The sprung the trap again, and this time they failed. The rope snapped and the ankheg was loose!

Breath weapons have the smallest initiative modifier of just about anything in AD&D - +1, which is faster than even a dagger or darts, which are +2 (PHB, page 125). I rolled a 1 on d10 for the ankheg's initiative, so it went before even Karven, who was using throwing darts (a modified initiative of 4). 

This time the ankheg spat at Ash, who dodged the worst of the stream of acid but still took 10 damage. The ankheg turned and retreated back into its hole - with a speed of 12 (120 feet per round if all it does is move, or 60 if it moves and attacks), it could attack, retreat to the bottom of the hole, and skitter another 30 feet away before anyone could react.

Ash and Karven both considered jumping into the hole after it, but thought better of it. They would return to Grimerun with just the one ankheg corpse, and seek help before returning.

Getting Help (Again)

Back in Grimerun, the halflings rejoiced that the beast had been slain. Haymond informed them that the bad news was that there were more where that one came from, but the good news was that they'd have very rich farmland for the foreseeable future, due to the ankhegs' beneficial effect on the soil! That was all well and good, but it was difficult to think ahead to the benefits of aerated soil when ankhegs were slurping up halflings like boba tea.

The party spoke to Shaelie Bouldershadow, the village's priestess and de facto leader. She gave them a portion of the reward, but pleaded with them to rid the village of the infestation at its root. The party expressed their desire to recruit more help and return to finish the job.

I go back and forth on how I want to handle henchman. One approach it to create a roster of recruitable NPCs in each settlement based on the population and local demographics, which is appealing to me, but tedious. The other way to go is to just say the party can recruit whoever they want wherever they want, which is unsatisfying because it feels too easy. Paladins, rangers, druids, and bards are "better" in some ways than their more basic counterparts, so I want it to feel more difficult to recruit them. It's another problem I haven't really solved.

The party resolved to return to Stormhelm and look for help there. If they're unsatisfied with what's available, they'll go next to Grasshold. Because Grasshold has a larger population (I mentioned that would be important later!), it will have more NPCs to recruit, which means more options. At the very least, I can create curated lists for those two settlements, and fill in the rest as needed.

The party returned to Stormhelm (a day-and-a-half journey), encountering some pilgrims along the way. Normally I'd determine their alignment and what god they worshiped and roleplay the encounter based on that, but I guess I just wasn't in the mood to improv this session, so I handwaved it. The players joked that they were probably more Bone Lord cultists, and I immediately wished I had thought of that.

The party arrived in Stormhelm without further incident, and that's where we ended the session. Nobody leveled up this time - the party really only overcame one challenging encounter, with the first ankheg, so they didn't get much experience. Everyone needs a few thousand experience points for their next level, so I guess this is where the level progression in 2e begins to slow down, which I'm all for. Let them spend a few more sessions feeling small in the world before things begin to pick up.

Ultimately, I still have a lot of work to do in thinking of ways to make the more common random encounters more interesting and breathing life into my settlements, but I really enjoyed the approach the players took here. While their cautious playstyle is sometimes a little frustrating, it feels like they're approaching problems in a way which is more appropriate for the more deadly system in which we're playing, and I'm starting to be satisfied that playing a different edition of D&D actually feels like playing a different game, which is what I originally wanted.

Next time, the players look for help and go on a bug hunt!

On Initiative

Initiative is a system that's always bothered me in D&D. There are tons of way to determine it throughout D&D's history, from Chainmail to B/X to AD&D to what exists in modern editions of D&D. There are things I enjoy about all of these systems - pass-through fire, the elegance of B/X, weapon speeds, casting times, and the chance of spellcasters being interrupted in AD&D, and the simplicity of 5e - but none of them quite "do it" for me.

I'm currently running an AD&D 2e campaign, and expressed some concerns early on about the initiative system using weapon speed factors and casting times. Admittedly, we haven't had a ton of complex combats yet (after nearly ten sessions!), but I've warmed up to the system. I usually have players declare actions at the start of combat, roll initiative accordingly, and then we only reroll when someone wants to do something different than they did the previous round.

After my AD&D game ends - which might take years, based on my last campaign with this group - I'm hoping to run Old School Essentials (using the Advanced Fantasy rules, if Exalted Funeral ever restocks the Advanced Fantasy Player's Tome, that is). OSE uses the B/X initiative system, which, like with AD&D, I'll likely try to run unmodified for as long as it doesn't bother me too much, so I can feel like I'm having the intended experience.

For now, I want to talk about initiative in 5e. By the book (PHB, page 189), initiative is determined by each creature in combat making a Dexterity check. Then, combat is resolved in descending order based on the results of each creature's check. Some character classes get an additional bonus to their initiative check - the Champion fighter adds half their proficiency bonus at 7th-level, the Gloomstalker ranger adds their Wisdom modifier at 3rd-level, and the Swashbuckler rogue adds their Charisma modifier at 3rd-level, for example.

Some players have a problem with this, as rolling a die, adding a number, writing down the total, and reordering the totals into an descending list is seen as onerous. I play entirely online at this point using Roll20, so the turn tracker makes this a lot easier, and I don't see it as a problem. If I was playing in person, I'd just ask one of the players to track initiative.

Still, one could always simplify 5e initiative by using old-school side-based initiative. This is even suggested as an optional rule in the 5e DMG (page 270). One benefit of this system is that it allows players to better coordinate their actions, emphasizing teamwork. A drawback is that it accentuates the "rocket tag" nature of 5e combat - the side that goes first is, in all likelihood, going to devastate the other side before they get a chance to act.

I'm growing to enjoy the more complex nature of initiative in AD&D. If anything - as with many elements of 5e - my inclination is to make 5e initiative more complex.

Declarations, Simultaneity, and Speed of Action

Initiative in 5e is truly turn-based - that is, actions aren't occurring simultaneously. A character or monster waits around until it's their turn, at which point they take all of their actions all at once - interrupted only by the occasional reaction - then the next person goes. One drawback of this is that players often don't decide - or even think about - what to do until their turn comes up, which often slows the combat to a standstill. 

I prefer that actions are declared at the start of the round, then resolved somewhat logically in order, while occurring simultaneously in the fiction. This has the added benefit of allowing spellcasters to be interrupted while casting. Since they have to declare whether or not they're casting a spell at the top of the round, they start casting immediately. If they're hit before their turn comes around - at which point the spell goes off - they may lose the spell. This is an important balancing factor which checks the otherwise outsized power of spellcasters.

Initiative in 5e also doesn't account for what actions are being taken. A character can do nothing but move one round, then move, take a bonus action, and cast a 9th-level spell the next round, and it takes the same amount of time. It doesn't matter if the character is using a heavy weapon, a light weapon, a loading weapon, or a reach weapon - so long as they rolled high enough, they go next.

5e has another optional initiative rule for speed factor, similar to AD&D (DMG, page 170). Light weapons and smaller-than-medium creatures are faster, and heavy weapons, loading weapons, two-handed weapons, and larger-than-medium creatures are slower. I don't really want to modify every initiative roll every round, however.

Taking Initiative

Inspired by a combination of B/X's elegance, AD&D's use of speed factor, and 5e's own suggestions of speed factor modifiers, I've come up with personal house rules for initiative in 5e. The exact order of operations differs somewhat from B/X where my own sensibilities and preferences are at odds with those rules.

The important thing to note is that players and monsters still roll for initiative at the start of combat. It's important to me to preserve this element of initiative in 5e so that those classes which benefit from bonuses to initiative do not then lose out on those class features. The initiative score is used only to resolve ties within the following sequence, which plays out in order each round:

1. Check monster and NPC morale: This obviously requires a system for checking morale.
2. Declare actions, spellcasters begin casting: AD&D suggests that the DM does not telegraph the monsters' intended actions to the players, but I disagree on this point. Telegraphing the monsters' actions allows players to make informed choices. If the monsters look like they will flee, the players can decide whether to pursue or simply let combat end. If an enemy spellcaster begins casting, the players can focus-fire the caster to attempt to interrupt the spell. If it looks like the goblins are moving to attack the cleric who desperately needs to heal the wizard, the fighter can move to intercept them. The general type of action is what's important, not the specific target of an attack or spell or the destination of movement. If a character declares that they're attacking with their bow, but their target is dead or out of range when missile attacks come up in the initiative order, they can choose another target. If the spellcaster prepares a fireball, but a melee forms before the spell goes off, the caster can later aim the fireball such that it causes less harm to their allies.
1. Spellcasters who take damage must make a Constitution saving throw (PHB, page 203) or lose their spell: The spell fizzles, and the spell slot is lost.
3. Bonus actions: These go off first, unless they have a specific trigger which wouldn't occur until later (for example, a character who uses two-weapon fighting makes an off-hand attack after the main hand attack, and a monk uses Flurry of Blows after taking the attack action). Otherwise, these are resolved in order following the standard initiative system below (for example, a rogue can dash, disengage, or hide as a bonus action before a wizard can cast misty step as a bonus action). I allow creatures to drink a potion as a bonus action, so that would also go here.
4. Magic item activation: My inclination is that these should be faster than regular attacks and spellcasting, as they normally require only a command word or press of a button to activate.
1. Scrolls go on spellcasting: Because they're just a means of casting spells.
5. Missile attacks: These go off first to represent that ranged attackers have arrows knocked, bolts loaded, thrown weapons ready, etc. This allows ranged attackers to attack before their targets take cover, and before a big melee forms, at which point they may have to fire past other creatures or risk hitting their allies. Beyond the first round of combat, this obviously becomes more complicated as the scenario unfolds. Missiles attacks, in turn, are resolved in the following order (ties are resolved by initiative order):
1. Finesse and light weapons: Thrown daggers, darts, hand axes, and light hammers.
2. Non-finesse, heavy, light, loading, and two-handed weapons: Javelins, nets, slings, spears, and tridents.
3. Heavy, loading, and two-handed weapons: Blowguns, bows, and crossbows.
6. Movement and non-attack/spellcasting actions: Now characters and monsters can move into or away from melee, seek cover against further missile fire, and the like. I'm tempted to further restrict spellcasters by ruling that they can't move on a turn where they're also casting a spell (which comes from B/X), but in wanting to preserve 5e's conception of highly-mobile spellcasters, I'm resisting the urge here. Here, using initiative order is absolutely necessary, or else everyone simply moves in somewhat disparate directions (the melee fighter moves towards the goblin archer, who in turn moves away, meaning no ground is gained at all), unless the two sides are like-minded about closing into melee range. This is also where characters can open doors, switch weapons, and otherwise interact with objects, attempt to hide (if not using a bonus action to do so), and the like.
1. Regular movement occurs first
2. Dash actions occur last
7. Melee attacks: This comes after movement by necessity. Melee attack are resolved in the following order (ties are resolved by initiative order):
1. Reach weapons of all kinds: Glaives, halberds, lances, pikes, and whips. A lot of these are heavy weapons, which come later in the order, but it only makes sense to me that these should strike first, due to their longer reach. I'm a bit divided on whips being here, but whatever. No one uses a whip anyway.
1. Characters and monsters with the longest reach go first: A bugbear character with +5 feet of reach wielding a glaive attacks before a human wielding a glaive. A roper with a 50-foor reach attacks before just about everyone. 
2. If reach is equal, resolve actions in the order used for other melee attacks: Tiny monsters using natural weapons go first, then whips and small monsters using natural weapons, then lances and medium monsters using natural weapons, then glaives, halberds, pikes, and large monsters using natural weapons, then huge monsters using natural weapons, then gargantuan monsters using natural weapons.
2. Tiny monsters using natural weapons: The will-o'-wisp's shock attack is faster than a dagger.
3. Finesse and light weapons, and small monsters using natural weapons: Clubs, daggers, hand axes, light hammers, rapiers, scimitars, shortswords, and sickles. The twig blights claws are as fast as a dagger. 
4. Non-finesse, heavy, light, reach, and two-handed weapons, and medium monsters using natural weapons: Flails, javelins, maces, morningstars, spears, war picks, and battleaxes, longswords, quarterstaffs, spears, tridents, and warhammers wielded with one hand. A mind flayer's tentacles are as fast as a longsword.
5. Heavy and two-handed weapons, and large monsters using natural weapons: Greatclubs, greataxes, greatswords, mauls, and battleaxes, longswords, quarterstaffs, spears, tridents, and warhammers wielded with two hands. A yeti's claws are as fast as a greataxe.
6. Huge monsters using natural weapons: A giant elk takes a few second to rear up and kick with its hooves.
7. Gargantuan monsters using natural weapons: A rock swoops down and rakes with its talons.
8. Spells: It's important that these go close to last, as I like the idea that spells take longer to cast than most other action in combat. It also provides ample time to interrupt or slay spellcasters with attacks, which is an important balancing factor. It makes it harder to cast fireball, lightning bolt, and cone of cold in an ideal spot without causing collateral damage to allies. 
1. Spellcasting is resolved in ascending order based on the level of the spell, such that 1st-level spells go off first, and 9th-level spells go off last. The wizard can fire off a magic missile before another wizard casts time stop. Otherwise, ties are resolved by initiative order.
9. Breath weapons and other special monster abilities: These go last purely as a matter of taste. I like the idea of a dragon "charging" its breath weapon and unleashing it at the end of the round. It gives players time to react, such as by killing the dragon before it attacks or by taking cover. In AD&D, breath weapons actually have a smaller initiative modifier (i.e., they are faster) than a dagger, so one could also put this near the top of the turn order if desired.
1. Larger monsters go later: Like with melee attacks with natural weapons, so a young dragon unleashes its breath weapon before an ancient one, for example.

A final important note is that creatures can choose to take any of the above actions during a later stage of the initiative order than listed. So a character can take a bonus action after activating a magic item, make a missile attack after moving, or make a melee attack after casting a spell, for example. 

They character is essentially delaying these actions until later in the round if they're for whatever reason unable or unwilling to take that action when they're otherwise supposed to. Granted, I suppose a player could choose to delay their entire turn until the end of the round, taking all of their actions at once, but the drawback would be essentially granting initiative to their enemies, so maybe that isn't a problem.

Here is the order of operations sans my commentary:

1. Check monster and NPC morale
2. Declare actions, spellcasters begin casting
1. Spellcasters who take damage must make a Constitution saving throw or lose their spell
3. Bonus actions (unless triggered by another action later in the initiative order)
1. Resolve the order of bonus actions based on the type of action (i.e. magic item activation, movement, spellcasting, etc.)
4. Magic item activation
1. Scrolls go on spellcasting
5. Missile attacks: 
1. Finesse and light weapons
2. Non-finesse, heavy, light, loading, and two-handed weapons
3. Heavy, loading, and two-handed weapons
6. Movement and non-attack/spellcasting actions
1. Regular movement occurs first
2. Dash actions occur last
7. Melee attacks:
1. Reach weapons of all kinds
1. Characters and monsters with the longest reach go first
2. If reach is equal, resolve actions in the order used for other melee attacks
2. Tiny monsters using natural weapons
3. Finesse and light weapons, and small monsters using natural weapons
4. Non-finesse, heavy, light, reach, and two-handed weapons, and medium monsters using natural weapons
5. Heavy and two-handed weapons, and large monsters using natural weapons
6. Huge monsters using natural weapons
7. Gargantuan monsters using natural weapons
8. Spells
1. Spellcasting is resolved in ascending order based on the level of the spell (i.e. 1st-level spells first, 9th-level spells last)
9. Breath weapons and other special monster abilities
1. Resolve order based on monster size (i.e. tiny first, gargantuan last)

It's worth noting that I'm not currently running a 5e game, so these rules are not playtested. I'm sure they are in need of some refinement, and there are likely edge-cases which I'm neglecting, but this is a theoretical framework from which I'll work the next time I DM a 5e game.

Quick Thinking, Sage Advice

One thing which still bothers me is that Dexterity is used to determine initiative regardless of the action being taken. It makes more sense to me that spellcasters would use their spellcasting ability modifier instead, if they're casting a spell. My inclination in that case would be for spellcasters to reroll their initiative each round if they're switching between casting spells and taking more physical actions - or else just modify their initiative by the difference between their Dexterity and their spellcasting ability as needed - but that kind of rerolling/fiddling is the sort of thing I'd like to avoid. Plus, again, I use Roll20, and as of now there isn't an option to change the ability score which modifies the initiative roll, so this seems like more trouble than it's worth.

5e's designers have even suggested using Intelligence for initiative instead of Dexterity, and this is a popular house rule I've seen here and there. However, it doesn't really solve the problem I have, which is that initiative isn't being determined by the action being taken, just whichever ability score is higher for the specific character or creature.

Ultimately, like many of my house rules, this won't be for everyone. It is likely more complex than many people prefer, with players and DMs needing to keep track of who took what actions over the course of a round - more than they normally would have to, but I crave more complexity in my 5e games, and specifically in the case of initiative. 

This process may exacerbate the issue of initiative slowing the game down, but my hope is that the combination of declared and simultaneous actions, along with a quick outline of the order in which these actions are resolved, will actually reduce time spent on individual players' turns, and make combat feel more lifelike and fluid, rather than artificially turn-based, playing out in sudden starts and long, drawn-out stops.

AD&D 2e Play Report: Session 9

Last night, we played the ninth session of our ongoing AD&D 2e campaign. The play report for session 8 is here.

To recap, the party was attempting to remove some bones from a haunted ruin when they were confronted by an angry apparition. Despite the spirit's initial hostile intent, the party managed to convince it not to attack them. They quickly exited the ruin and returned to town with the bones, which their current patron, a priest, used to conduct a ceremony which he hoped would put the spirit to rest.

The party took some time in town to figure out how they might identify the properties of a magical alien helmet. I've since reflected on the difficulty of identifying magic item in AD&D 2e and have written about my own approach to identifying magical items. Ultimately, the price of identification was too rich for them, so they held onto the helmet for now.

The party then embarked on a long journey to the south, intending to investigate a series of attacks by barbarians on logging camps near the town of Houndrun. 

In the town of Mythshire, they encountered a group of adventurers called the Pit Fighters of Self-Restraint, who had killed some pegasi and stolen their eggs on behalf of the town's evil wizard overlord, and were parading around with a pegasus corpse for the townspeople to see. While the party did not appreciate the gruesome display, they didn't want to start a fight in town, and so they moved on as quickly as possible. 

At the gates of Southreach, the party encountered a group of merchants from a faraway coastal nation, selling exotic crabs, ivory, and pearls. 

From the city they moved onto Houndrun, where they met with the foreman of the logging company and learned more about the barbarian attacks. The town had an uneasy truce with the local tribe, but recently the barbarians were believed to have adopted a new leader, who had launched several attacks on the town's mills, going so far as to destroy the newest of the facilities.

The party departed town to locate the barbarian camp, encountering a mounted patrol from Houndrun along the way. They passed by the recently-raided lumber mill before coming upon the camp. They were able to get very close without being detected. Karven Stone, the thief, sneakily climbed a hill leading to what the party believed would be the chieftain's tent. Karven assassinated the lookout and lowered a rope so that the rest of the party could climb up.

Player Absence

Karven's player was late to this session, so we started without him. My general rule is that we'll begin play so long as we have a quorum - so if the group consists of four or five players, we'll start once we have three; with six or seven players, we'll start once we have four (this is as many players as I've had in a single game since I started DMing again around six years ago).

Normally, if a player isn't present, their character doesn't do anything - they're just hanging around in the background. I don't want to make decisions on a player's behalf that might put their character in jeopardy, and I certainly don't want to be controlling a player character in a combat scenario on top of everything else I've got going on. However, since the players were hesitant to take any action until they had gathered more information, Karven was the only one capable of sneaking around, and I wanted to get on with the game, I decided to let the players decide what they wanted Karven to do in the player's absence.

Reconnaissance 

The party listened at the tent for a moment and overheard a heated discussion between two people. One person was congratulating the other on recent victories, but cautioning that the tribe quit while it was ahead - they had made their point by destroying the new lumber mill, which was in breach of the town's agreement with the tribe. The other person seemed elated by the tribe's conquest and wanted to push the issue, hoping to put the remaining mills - and eventually, the town itself - to the torch.

Karven snuck around the sides of the tent and discovered a pair of guards out front, as well as at least another half dozen warriors milling about the camp below them. There was also a horse-sized statue of a wolf by the gates. The statue had marks on it as if it had been in battle, and its mouth and claws were stained with what looked like blood.

The party discussed their options, and concluded that if they could eliminate the tribe's bloodthirsty leader, then they might be able to convince the more levelheaded person in the tent to pursue a peaceful solution.

Surprise!

The party positioned themselves outside the tent, and Ash and Haymond Baler, the two fighters, slashed a hole in the canvas and leapt through. There they found what looked like the barbarian chieftain, clad in a fine set of plate mail, and what looked to be a druid.

I made surprise checks for the barbarian leaders, with a -4 penalty because the party was until now unseen and unheard (DMG, page 139). Both rolled 9s, with a modified roll of 5 - surprise occurs on a roll of 1, 2, or 3 on a d10 (PHB, page 147). The barbarian leaders were not surprised. 

The chieftain drew a gleaming longsword and called for his guards, ordering them to subdue the party and "feed them to the stone wolf." Haymond declared that the party was here to broker a peace, which gave the druid pause - I rolled a 10 on his reaction roll (8 on 2d6, with -4 because the druid's initial disposition was hostile, and +6 for Haymond's reaction modifier from Charisma). However, the chieftain's initial disposition roll of -1 was such that he would not listen to reason - he leapt into battle immediately, and so we rolled initiative.

To Have and to Hold

Both Bernhardt Dalton, the cleric, and the barbarian druid began casting spells. Bernhardt's spell went off first - hold person (PHB, page 261)! The spell targets 1d4 individuals, and Bernhardt rolled a 1, so he chose to target just the chieftain. If one person is targeted, they save at -2. The chieftain failed his save, and so would be completely immobilized for six rounds (two rounds per level, and Bernhardt is 3rd-level)!

Karven was next, and threw a dagger at each of the guards who had entered the tent from outside to aid their chieftain. He hit both of them and killed them instantly. Ash and Haymond closed into melee with the chieftain. Melee attacks against a held opponent are automatic hits (PHB, page 120), so they started wailing on him. 

It's pretty crazy how good hold person is, especially when compared to the 5e version. The players were delighted by it. We'll see how they feel about it when that same spell eventually is turned on them!

The druid finished casting his spell - flame blade! He took one look at the situation unfolding before him, then struck down the chieftain with his own fiery sword (if there is no other opposition in a melee, a held opponent can be instantly slain, which I felt applied here).

Restoring the Balance

The party was pretty shocked by how easy this all was, but they fully anticipated that the druid would be willing to play ball. He introduced himself as Feli, and explained that he was ready to make peace. The chieftain, Redford, had been the strong leader which the tribe needed in order to make a statement, but the wrong done by the lumber company had been righted, and Feli wished to see the balance restored. 

Feli regretted that it had to come to this, but told the party that he could convince the rest of the tribe to cease its aggression towards the town, if the party could convince the lumber company not to build any more mills. This seemed reasonable, so the party agreed.

Unfortunately, Noa, the subchief who would rightfully take Redford's place as leader, shared the chieftain's bloodthirstiness. He would have to be eliminated so that Feli could install a more malleable leader. With the druid's help, the party came up with a plan for Karven to sneak into Noa's tent at night and slay him. The tribe would be incensed by the assassinations as first, but they would look to Feli for guidance, and he would steer them towards going on the defensive, rather than retaliating.

This whole series of events might read as odd, but 2e portrays druids as mystical balance-keepers who are True Neutral by necessity. Chief Redford, on the other hand, was Chaotic Evil. I had determined ahead of time that there was a power struggle within the tribe, which the party could exploit in order to resolve the quest without necessarily killing everyone. If things had gone another way, they could have ended up battling the entire camp, but that isn't how the dice fell.

Skullduggery

The party waited until late in the evening, after most of the camp had passed out from drinking too much grog. Feli managed to keep any other members of the tribe from entering the camp to find their leader slain. Karven snuck out under cover of darkness, creeping silently past two groups of drunken, sleeping warriors. He slipped into Noa's tent undetected and cut his throat. Before leaving, he plundered the subchief's magical scale mail armor and war hammer.

Karven and the rest of the party made a swift exit from the camp, promising Feli that they would put in a good word for the tribe's new leadership. They slinked off into the woods, back to their donkey and dogs, and made a hasty camp for what was left of the evening.

Beetle Battle

The next day, the party set off back to Houndrun. On the edge of the forest, they heard a great racket, as if huge beasts were doing battle in the forest just ahead. They came upon a pair of giant male stag beetles, ten feet long, engaged in a territorial battle, with two females looking on. Giant stag beetles are worth 975 XP - a 6th-level monster. They have three attacks, two of which do 1d10 damage each, and the third is a crushing mandible attack which deals 4d4 damage. Luckily, the beetles were indifferent to the party, so they wisely decided to steer clear of the display.

One of these days, one of these random encounters is going to kill them. Today was not that day!

Back to Town (and City)

The party returned to Houndrun and met with the logging foreman, Bradyn. I hadn't taken note of the name I had randomly generated for the foreman last session, and neither had any of the players, so I generated a new one and made sure to record it this time. His name has always been Bradyn.

Bradyn was True Neutral himself, so he understood when the party communicated to him the importance of avoiding any further antagonism towards the Wolfkin Tribe (had I randomly determined that his alignment was Evil, it would have been more difficult to convince him). The party received the reward for their services, spent the night in town, and set out back towards the city of Southreach in the morning.

Along the way, the party had another encounter with merchants. I thought it'd be funny if they encountered the crab merchants from before, so that's what happened. The party bought some more crabs and continued on their way.

Rumor Fatigue

The players decided to spend a week in the city collecting more rumors. The party learned of two new quests:

• Near Evertide, a nearby coastal town to the north, the Dragon Beacon had become illuminated. The Dragon Beacon is an old tower that, when illuminated, burns with an eerie purple light, and releases magical pheromones which attract dragons. A band of piratical kobolds has been raiding fishing boats and cargo ships off the coast, and it's believed that they're somehow responsible for the Beacon reactivating. Worse yet, a flight of small drakes has been spotted flying around the tower's summit, which means bigger dragons will be on their way soon. The town is looking for adventurers to go investigate the tower and figure out how to turn it off.
• Near Grimerun, a village farther to the north, hobgoblin raiders have been attacking foresters and taking them prisoner. The hobgoblins are believed to be based out of the City of Oni, a ruined city which was long ago the seat of an ogre mage king.

At this point, I'm becoming fatigued by the players' gluttony for rumors. They're already aware of three other quests - a band of troublesome ogres, a mysterious forest beast, and a bug hunt. Unfortunately, they're afraid of the ogres (thinking that they're too strong for the party to confront, which I estimate they are not), and Haymond's player is convinced that the bug hunt involves ankhegs, which he is personally afraid of (it's not ankhegs). If it were me, I'd jump at the chance to battle iconic D&D monsters and possibly die, but it's not up to me.

At a certain point, I'll just have to tell the players that there are no more new rumors, and they simply have to pick a quest and do one, even if it scares them, because they're adventurers, and we're here to play the game, not not-play the game because we're scared.

Since one of the rumors they already had (the mysterious forest beast) and one of the rumors they just got (hobgoblin raiders) both originated in Grimerun, the party decided to go there next. 

Uninteresting Fantastical Items

In the meantime, Haymond and Karven visited the university in the upper city to see if someone could tell them anything about the armor and hammer they had plundered from Noa. Hilariously, the DMG suggests that consulting a sage should also cost at least 1,000 gp per day (page 146). Since this seemed high, I instead consulted 5e's rule for hireling expenses (PHB, page 159), with is 2 gp/day for a skilled hireling. Since the party was consulting an expert sage, I doubled it to 4 gp/day. Since the question was specific, it would take 1d6 days for the sage to come back with an answer, and success would not be automatic.

Unfortunately, in this scenario I did not practice what I preached in my recent post on item identification. I didn't have anything interesting about the items to share with the party, such as their origins or appearance, so I simply said that the items were of expert make and probably had a minor enchantment. The players remarked that this seemed like a much better alternative to paying 1,000 gp for an identify spell, and I can't help but agree with them. It's an adjudication I made on the fly, and not one I'd make again, since it undermines the expectations of the setting which I'm trying to establish.

For contrast, if the party had asked a sage about the strange helmet they recovered from the Whispering Tomb, for example, the sage would have told them that it had the makings of an alien device, likely used for neural enhancement by psionics-wielding creatures - this gives them clues about the item without directly divulging its properties, encouraging informed experimentation. Something to keep in mind for the future.

Bernhardt felt comfortable enough to test the items out, and at this point I informed the players that the items were scale mail +1 and a war hammer +1 - funny, didn't I just write a post saying a DM should never give their players an ordinary war hammer +1 specifically? Oh well. Sometimes we don't always live up to our own ideals.

This is where we wrapped the session. Next time, the players will head all the way back to Spiritbrook, then continue north to Grimerun. From there, they plan to hunt for the forest beast, then pursue the hobgoblin lead.

Bernhardt leveled up, and is now 4th-level. He gains some hit points, a 1st-level and 2nd-level spell slot, and a weapon proficiency (he is now proficient with the war hammer). His THAC0 improves by two (now 18), and his saving throws improve as well.

On Identification

In my most recent AD&D 2e play report, the player characters wanted to discover the properties of a strange alien helmet they found in an old tomb. The helmet had seemingly been used to torture someone so badly that they became a ghost, so of course none of the characters dared to try it on and find out for themselves what it was capable of. The players are not quite ready to embrace the old-school approach that is bribing or bullying their henchmen and hirelings into being magic item guinea pigs, either. So, they decided to find the most capable wizard in town and ask her to identify the item for them. 

The problem? According to Table 69 of the 2e DMG (page 154), getting an NPC to cast identify should cost at least 1,000 gold pieces per item or function of an item to be identified. The DMG states that "the costs of purchasing a spell are such that it is far better for someone in the party to learn the spell. In general, the mercenary use of NPC spellcasters should be discouraged whenever possible. The player character are supposed to face challenges on their own!"

Clearly, there is an intended playstyle justification for the high cost of getting an NPC to cast an identify spell. But there is also a mechanical justification - identifying magic items in 2e is hard! Below is the description of the identify spell in 2e, with important parts bolded (PHB, page 175):

Range: 0

Components: V, S, M

Duration: 1 rd./level

Casting Time: Special

Area of Effect: 1 item/level

Saving Throw: None

When an identify spell is cast, magical items subsequently touched by the wizard can be identified. The eight hours immediately preceding the casting of the spell must be spent purifying the items and removing influences that would corrupt and blur their magical auras. If this period is interrupted, it must be begun again. When the spell is cast, each item must be handled in turn by the wizard. Any consequences of this handling fall fully upon the wizard and may end the spell, although the wizard is allowed any applicable saving throw.

The chance of learning a piece of information about an item is equal to 10% per level of the caster, to a maximum of 90%, rolled by the DM. Any roll of 96-00 indicates a false reading (91-95 reveals nothing). Only one function of a multifunction item is discovered per handling (i.e., a 5th-level wizard could attempt to determine the nature of five different items, five different functions of a single item, or any combination of the two). If any attempt at reading fails, the caster cannot learn any more about that item until he advances a level. Note that some items, such as special magical tomes, cannot be identified with this spell.

The item never reveals its exact attack or damage bonuses, although the fact that it has few or many bonuses can be determined. If it has charges, only a general indication of the number of charges remaining is learned: powerful (81% - 100% of the total possible charges), strong (61% - 80%), moderate (41% - 60%), weak (6% - 40%), or faint (five charges or less). The faint result takes precedence, so a fully charged ring of three wishes always appears to be only faintly charged.

After casting the spell and determining what can be learned from it, the wizard loses 8 points of Constitution. He must rest for one hour to recover each point of Constitution. If the 8-point loss drops the spellcaster below a Constitution of 1, he falls unconscious. Consciousness is not regained until full Constitution is restored, which takes 24 hours (one point per three hours for an unconscious character).

The material components of this spell are a pearl (of at least 100 gp value) and an owl feather steeped in wine; the infusion must be drunk prior to spellcasting. If a luckstone is powdered and added to the infusion, the divination becomes much more potent: Exact bonuses or charges can be determined, and the functions of a multifunctional item can be learned from a single reading. At the DM's option, certain properties of an artifact or relic might also be learned.

The key takeaway is this: In 2e, the caster must spend 8 hours preparing to cast the spell, as well as at least 8 hours recovering from casting the spell, and because the caster must handle each item, they are vulnerable to any curses which might befall them from doing so. Additionally, unlike in D&D 5e, for example, material components of spells are consumed unless stated otherwise (PHB, page 114) - in 5e, they're not consumed unless stated otherwise (PHB, page 203) - meaning that every casting of identify in 2e consumes a 100 gp pearl.

In 2e, when the player characters pay 1,000 gp to an NPC wizard to cast identify, they are paying for an entire day of the wizard's time (8 hours of prep and at least 8 hours of recovery), as well as reimbursing the wizard for the lost pearl, the risk of curses, and the risk of falling into a brief coma. Suddenly, 1,000 gp sounds more fair.

Also worth noting is that identify in 2e does not automatically reveal information about the item (the spell always has a chance of failure). A higher-level wizard has a better chance of determining an item's properties, and a wizard with access to powdered luckstone can discern more specific item properties like exact bonuses and number of charges. If anything, identify should be more expensive depending on the level of the wizard whose services are employed, as well as any additional components they might be using.

This guy will risk getting cursed and falling into a coma for 1,000 gp.

Identification, Made Easy

Over the editions of D&D, magical item identification has gradually become faster, more reliable, and less costly. In 3e, identify takes 1 hour to cast and requires no recovery time, and it automatically reveals all properties of a single item, including the means of activating the item and how many charges it has (if any).

I don't remember much from my brief time with D&D 4e, but from Googling around it looks like this was the edition which introduced the concept of automatically identifying items on a short rest, which brings us to 5e (DMG, page 136):

"A character can focus on one magic item during a short rest, while being in physical contact with the item. At the end of the rest, the character learns the item's properties, as well as how to use them."

The identify spell still exists in 5e, for those players who don't want to have to take the time to identify items the more accessible way. 5e's identify takes 1 minute to cast if a spell slot is used, or 10 minutes when cast as a ritual (avoiding the use of a spell slot). The 100 gp pearl is no longer consumed. The spell allows the character to "learn [the item's] properties and how to use them, whether it requires attunement to use, and how many charges it has, if any" as well as "whether any spells are affecting the item and what they are" and "which spell created [the item]." (PHB, page 252)

So, at worst, the player character can spend an hour to identify an item without error (without even being a spellcaster or having any knowledge of magic). At best, they can spend a spell slot to identify it in 1 minute (if they know identify and/or have it prepared). In the middle, they can spend 10 minutes and no other resources to identify it (if they know identify and can cast ritual spells).

From 2e to 5e, we went from 16 total hours of time spent on a single casting of identify to as little as 1 minute, from a 100 gp pearl which is consumed with every casting to a 100 gp pearl that can be used indefinitely, and from an uncertain prospect of success and a one-property-at-a-time process of discovery to an automatically thorough and accurate reading of an item with a single casting.

Much like the intended playstyle of 2e (player characters should overcome challenges on their own) informs 2e's approach to identification, the intended playstyle of 5e informs 5e's approach to identification. In 5e, player characters aren't meant to struggle with mundane adventurer tasks like figuring out what their new toys are and how to use them. Player character abilities simply work, they work instantaneously, and they do not usually have drawbacks, penalties, or restrictions.

This is especially true of spells - players can only learn a handful of spells as their characters progress, so they're unlikely to choose those which they deem "underpowered" or unreliable Thus, all spells must attempt to be equally compelling in order to attract players to choose them. (Wizards can technically learn every spell available to their class, but even their potential, from the player's perspective, is throttled by the greedy DM's draconian vice grip on scrolls and spellbooks found in treasure hoards.)

The modernization of magic in D&D comes at the expense of the fiction which the game was originally intended to emulate - conjurers can pick and choose exactly what otherwordly creature they summon, and have perfect and minute control over such creatures, transmuters can spend lifetimes polymorphed into monsters with no risk of ever truly becoming monsters themselves, and rare, powerful, and alien artifacts readily and reliably yield all of their secrets and powers in as little as a minute (or at most, in an hour, to any non-magic-using schmuck who handles them and thinks really hard about it).

This guy doesn't even know magic, but even he can force the cube to yield all of its most occult secrets during his lunch break!

Identification, Made Boring

The consequence of the modernization of magic item identification is that there's simply no reason for player characters to experiment with magic items ever again. Why would they, when, in a worst case scenario, they can simply sit for an hour and think really hard about the item to unerringly learn all of its properties?

The 5e DMG (page 136) does shoutout experimentation as a means of identification, for some reason: "Wearing or experimenting with an item can also offer hints about its properties. For example, if a character puts on a ring of jumping, you could say, "Your steps feel strangely springy." Perhaps the character then jumps up and down to see what happens. You then say the character jumps unexpectedly high."

Why special mention is given to experimentation when the mechanics almost completely eliminate the need for it is anyone's guess. In some scenarios, the party may have no spellcasters capable of casting identify, and may not have time to stop for an hour, or may have need of the item urgently, but this has never happened in one of my games. It's probably because one of my players almost always plays a wizard.

The DMG also has a variant rule which eliminates the ability to identify magic items on a short rest: "If you prefer magic items to have a greater mystique, consider removing the ability to identify the properties of a magic item during a short rest, and require the identify spell, experimentation, or both to reveal what a magic item does." 

Of course, there's no example given as to what a combination of identify and experimentation looks like, which would be helpful, given that identify, as written, is 100% accurate 100% of the time - so in what scenario would experimentation also be needed? Even in a campaign where short rest identification is eliminated, the identify spell is still foolproof. 

If the player characters can't cast identify themselves, they can probably find an NPC to do it for them, and certain official Wizards of the Coast products list the price of magic item identification being as cheap as 20 gp per item, which is trivially cheap even at 1st-level. There is still no incentive to experiment.

Identification, Made Interesting

Ultimately, I was inspired to write this post by two things - my above reading of the AD&D 2e description of identify, and Prismatic Wasteland's post on Potion Clues. 

Warren's post specifically made me think about how in 5e, the DMG provides a brief description of what every potion looks like. A potion of healing is red and glimmers when agitated. A potion of fire breath is flickering orange, and smoke fills the top of the container and wafts out whenever its opened. A potion of animal friendship is a muddy liquid containing a fish scale, a hummingbird tongue, a cat's claw, and a squirrel's hair. 

Details like this invite players to speculate as to a potion's properties, take notes on potions they've encountered in the past, and perhaps most importantly, experiment. The characters have had potions of healing before, so they are able to recognize the glimmering red liquid. They are able to intuit from the appearance of a potion of fire breath that the potion has something to do with fire. In en encounter with a wild animal, they might risk quaffing a potion of animal friendship, having deduced that it has at least something to do with animals, and might give them an advantage. 

Hilariously, the DMG specifically says "Potions are an exception [to the usual identification rules]; a little taste is enough to tell the taster what the potion does." On the one hand, we have an interesting way for player characters to deduce a potion's properties just by looking at them. On the other hand, the DMG says, "Nevermind all that - just take a little sip, which has no consequences whatsoever, and all will be revealed!"

Warren writes that making the effects of a potion less immediately transparent "rewards characters who can identify potions, encourages seeking out sages who identify them, and creates interesting decision points when they have unidentified potions in their bags but their backs are up against the wall." I would go a step farther and apply this approach to all magic items.

In fact, the 5e DMG even suggests that all magic items should be visually distinct (page 136): "The command word to activate a ring might be etched in tiny letters inside it, or a feathered design might suggest that it's a ring of feather falling."

A few pages later, the 5e DMG has a great section on "Special Features" of magic items (page 141). That section includes tables to determine who or what created the item or was intended to use it, details from the item's history, and minor properties and quirks of the item. 

There's probably enough material here for a separate post which goes into more detail on making magic items themselves interesting, so that the process of learning their properties is in turn interesting. Discovering that a war hammer is a +1 war hammer and only a +1 war hammer is never going to be interesting no matter how the DM adjudicates it. So, a DM should never simply give the players a +1 war hammer - they can buy that in a shop, if all they want is a +1 bonus (magic item shops are already almost completely devoid of wonder, so the items to be found there might as well be accordingly wonder-less). 

Instead, that magic war hammer the player characters find by chance in an actual dungeon on an actual adventure is the Black Earth Bludgeon, crafted of solid stone and bejeweled with polished rock. It was made by cultists of Ogrémoch to slay beings of elemental air and the worshippers of Yan-C-Bin. It grants the wielder uncanny senses when underground, but makes them slothful and lethargic on the surface world, beneath the open sky.

So, how do the player characters learn all of this about the seemingly humble +1 war hammer? The purpose of my approach, which I'll detail below, is for a magic item's properties to be communicated entirely within the fiction of the game, and to encourage experimentation by the player characters as the single best way to truly discern an item's various properties.

Identification, Made Complex

First, we have to entirely eliminate identification via a short rest. It's both easy and reliable, which makes it boring. Then, we have to make identification via identify less informative. I don't want identify to reveal an item's properties at all - only fictional information about the item's identity. Casting identify should only reveal the +1 war hammer's name, origin, and purpose.

At the DM's option, identify could also be made more costly, and less reliable. Let's say that each casting of identify requires an Intelligence (Arcana) check to properly identify the item, and that the DC is determined by the item's rarity, like so:

Item Rarity    Intelligence (Arcana) check DC
Common         10
Uncommon     15
Rare                20
Very Rare        25
Legendary       30
Artifact            35

Now, a 1st-level wizard, assuming that they have proficiency with Arcana and start the game with an Intelligence of 16 (+3) - although I don't mind player characters starting with higher ability scores - can somewhat reliably identify common and uncommon items, and can less easily identify rare and very rare items. By 13th-level, the same wizard probably has +10 to their Arcana skill, meaning they can reliably identify rare items, and can occasionally identify even legendary items. Only a character with expertise in Arcana can ever properly identify an artifact.

On a failed check, the caster has failed to magically divine the item's identity from the depths of time. On a successful check, the caster learns that the +1 war hammer is the Black Earth Bludgeon, crafted by cultists of Ogrémoch to slay beings of elemental air and the worshippers of Yan-C-Bin. There's still plenty to learn about this item, but the player characters have a place to start.

What's to stop a caster from simply attempting to identify an item over and over again until they succeed? Make the 100 gp pearl component consumable when used to attempt to identify a magic item. Now, every attempt comes with a cost.

Players and their characters can still intuit things about an item based on its appearance, as I described with regard to potions. In the case of the Black Earth Bludgeon, the players, drawing on their knowledge of the genre, might conclude that the bejeweled stone hammer was crafted either by dwarves or elementals. They might seek out these creatures, or NPCs who are knowledgeable about these creatures, to attempt to learn more about the item.

If the players don't intuit information themselves, they might lean on their characters' skills to do so. A character proficient in History, Religion, or jeweler's or mason's tools might recall reading about the item in An Encyclopedia of Elemental Evil, recognize certain symbols of the Black Earth carved into the hammer's head or haft, or recognize the magical stonecutting employed by Black Earth artisan-priests. 

Loosely interpreting a rule from Xanathar's Guide to Everything (page 78) - as I've done in the past - tool proficiencies can be combined with skill proficiencies to gain advantage on ability checks. In my case, I allow two proficiencies of any type to combine in this way, not just one tool proficiency and one skill proficiency - so a character with any combination of History, Religion, and jeweler's and mason's tools would have an increased chance of recognizing the origin of the Black Earth Bludgeon. I would use the same DC-by-rarity guidelines I outlined above for identify.

This eliminates the need for identify to some extent, but this is a good thing, as it rewards players for being able to draw their own conclusions, or for making characters with niche knowledge and skills. In a scenario where none of the players or characters have any idea what the nature of an item might be, identify still exists, but it's more costly, in addition to being somewhat unreliable.

So, either through player skill, character skill, leveraging knowledgeable NPCs, or falling back on the identify spell, the players and their characters now know a bit more about the item. How do they figure out what it actually does?

Identification, Made Fun

They experiment! 

The Black Earth Bludgeon was crafted by cultists of Ogremoch to slay beings of elemental air and the worshippers of Yan-C-Bin, so the player characters might try using it to fight air elementals, Howling Hatred cultists, and flying creatures. Against these foes, the hammer feels twice as heavy when delivering blows, but not any more difficult for the wielder to swing. These enemies crumble against the hammer's awesome might. Perhaps, against these enemies, it grants additional bonuses to attack and damage rolls, or advantage on attacks. It might cause flying enemies to fall to the ground immediately, turn enemy cultists to stone, or banish air elementals back to their home plane.

The Black Earth Bludgeon is clearly attuned with the earth itself, so the player characters might try bringing it underground. Suddenly, the wielder has an intuitive sense of how deep they are beneath the surface, and which direction is north. Secret doors and maybe even dungeon walls crumble beneath the hammer's blows. Perhaps the hammer's head pulls in the direction of precious stones.

When they return to the surface, the wielder notices that the hammer feels twice as heavy. Their every step is a burden. The endless, wide open sky feels like it's crashing down around them. They're becoming agoraphobic.

In this way, the magic item becomes another character in the game. The player characters have to spend time with the item, devote resources to uncovering its secrets, and most importantly, play with it. 

For this to be truly interesting and fun, the magic item should likewise be interesting and fun. It should have a unique appearance from which players can draw conclusions, an origin and history which the player characters and NPCs might be aware of, and multiple features, including both benefits and drawbacks, which are discovered only through continual experimentation in a variety of scenarios. Player characters cannot simply find an item, sit down with it during a coffee break, and immediately decide if they want to use it or throw it in a bag of holding to sell at the local Magic Mart.

This playstyle isn't for everyone. To some extent, it's working directly against the intended playstyle of modern D&D, which might be too much for some DMs and players. There's presumably a reason why WotC designed this element of the game this way. I'd guess that it's probably because players complained about identification being too onerous in the past. WotC loves to design by committee, rather than by vision.

I'm sure there are plenty of players who simply want to hit the identify button and be done with it, and get to using their new toy, but sometimes it's more fun to start playing with the toy without knowing what it might do.

AD&D 2e Play Report: Session 8

Last night, we played the 8th session of our ongoing AD&D 2e campaign. The combined player report for sessions 6 and 7 is here.

To recap, after a near-deadly ambush by a band of kobolds, the party had to decide whether to press on back towards town or spend time trying to locate their hireling, Terris, who had lost morale and run off in the midst of the fight. They chose to wait around for a bit, but Terris never returned, and so they left him to his fate. 

The party returned to town and returned the stonemasons they'd managed to rescue, earning some gold and the favor of the guild. Karven Stone, the thief, recruited another thief, Sheyla, as a henchman, and Yinvalur Sparkguard, the elf, became a henchman of Bernhardt Dalton, the cleric. The player of Rozidien Stoneskull, the paladin, switched out that character in favor of Ash, an elf fighter. There was some shopping and consternation over magic item prices, and the party then spent a week of downtime in town collecting rumors.

The party already knew about two quests - one nearby, to rid an old tomb of a restless spirit, and another farther afield, to kill some pegasi and steal their babies for an evil wizard, which they did not want to do. They learned of four more quests - ogres terrorizing a nearby town, a forest beast eating foresters, a bug infestation, and barbarians raiding lumber mills. They decided to deal with the nearby haunting first, then see about those barbarians.

After meeting with a priest, the party made their way to tomb. They encountered a ragged band of hungry wolves, which they chased off, as well as a band of orcs which had just been chased away from the tomb by mad barbarians occupying the site.

The party reached the tomb, avoiding the barbarians guarding the one entrance, and navigated a trapped room. Their shenanigans alerted the barbarians, who surrounded them. The party convinced the barbarians that they were not here to raid their ancestors' tombs, and Bernhardt cooked them a delicious meal which warmed their hearts and sobered their minds. The barbarians directed the party towards a secret chamber deeper within the tomb, where they found the remains which they hoped to bring back to the priest in town.

The party carefully removed the remains and moved to exit the tomb, only for shadowy figures to begin to coalesce from the eerie mist floating above the floor. A telepathic voice accused the party of stealing secrets, and said that they would die. It seemed that they would inevitably be attacked.

Aggressive Negotiations and Unlikely Outcomes

When I had originally prepped the Whispering Tomb, my reaction roll for this apparition (a generic 3 HD incorporeal undead) had been 1. In accordance with the rules I use for social interaction, that meant that the spirit would be hostile, but that the player characters would have one single chance to try to convince it not to attack, if they wanted to. Bernhardt decided to try to convince the spirit that they were not here to hurt it or steal its secrets.

I made a subsequent reaction roll (at -4 because the spirit was already hostile, and -2 because of Bernhardt's low Charisma, so -6 total) and rolled a 6 (6+6-6)! Since the reaction was not negative (5 or lower), the spirit hesitated, and Bernhardt successfully bought them some time. I rolled 2d6-4 to see how much time exactly, and got a result of 2. The party had two more attempts to convince the spirit they meant no harm.

At this point, the spirit materialized, and it looked identical to the body the party had found in the other room. There were ghostly shackles holding its arms up, as if it were still chained to the ceiling, and it wore the strange alien helmet which was still affixed to the skeleton's head.

Bernhardt told the apparition that the party was here to help a priest put a spirit to rest, and asked the apparition its name. The apparition dimly recalled its name being Vicorin, but said there must be some mistake - there was no restless spirit here, only Vicorin and his friends. The party noticed a trio of faceless, less substantial projections materialize around them - two immediately on either side of Haymond Baler, which was a bit funny.

Haymond quickly regained his composure and spoke up - which was good, because he has the best Charisma in the party. He told Vicorin's spirit that they meant no harm and would be on their way. I made another reaction roll, this time with a +2 (-4 because the spirit was still hostile, and +6 due to Haymond's Charisma). I rolled a 13 (5+6+2)!

Vicorin's spirit recognized Haymond as a simple farm boy, rather than some scheming wizard bent on stealing his secrets. Haymond had purchased bronze plate mail in town, so he gave the appearance of an aspiring knight. Surely, he could mean no harm. Vicorin's spirit relented, but said the party must leave at once. They did not need to be told twice. The faceless projections around them clawed feebly at them as they exited, but did not pursue them.

This was all a shock to me. I had fully expected to start this session with a combat encounter, especially once Bernhardt chose to be the one attempting to negotiate with the angry spirit. Once again, the dice delivered a result I never anticipated, and one which was far more interesting and satisfying than what I would have come up with on my own. I continue to feel validated in using a robust and flexible social interaction mechanic.

The party exited the tomb and rejoined the barbarians outside. The barbarians saw that the party was true to their word. Bernhardt estimated that it would take a couple of days for the spirit to be at peace (a day and a half's travel back to town), at which point the barbarians could safely reenter the tomb if they wished. Niclaus, their leader, thanked the party, and the party learned that they called themselves the Withered Wood Tribe. They parted ways amicably and the party returned to town.

Town Business (Again)

The party returned the recovered remains to the priest, Reinald. Bernhardt offered to assist in the rites which the priest would perform, which lasted from sundown to sunup and involved holy oils, incense, and much flagellation. It turned out that Reinald was a very intense man.

Reinald had no use for the strange helmet which the party had found on the corpse, and didn't know what its purpose was, so he returned it to them. The party had no way to determine its function either, besides trying it on and seeing what would happen, which none of them seemed keen to do. They asked around town and learned of a wizard by the name of Nettie who could identify it. When they headed to their tower, they found that a single casting of the identify spell would cost 1,000 gold pieces. Cue griping about how expensive everything is.

The 2e DMG actually does provide prices for spellcasting services (Table 69, page 154), and this is one of them. The DMG explicitly states that characters "must be prepared to pay (and pay dearly) for [spellcasting] services...the NPC knows [they have] the player characters over a barrel and will bargain accordingly...The costs...can be raised (but seldom lowered) for a variety of reasons. In general, the costs of purchasing a spell are such that it is far better for someone in the party to learn the spell. In general, the mercenary use of NPC spellcasters should be discouraged whenever possible. The player characters are supposed to face challenges on their own!"

I appreciate this approach to the issue, even if my players do not. As I stated in my previous play report, I am sympathetic to players when they say that they have lots of gold and not much to spend it on (even if I can think of plenty of things to spend it on), and so I do think that they should be able to purchase spellcasting services, magic items, and the like. However, in my experience players simultaneously complain that there is both nothing to spend their gold on and also that everything is too expensive. So, which is it?

5e takes a similar approach to 2e, in that purchasing magic items and spellcasting services is discouraged, but guidelines are still occasionally provided. However, the prices I've found for 5e are quite low (for example, an identify spell in 5e might cost as little as 20 gp). This means that beyond a certain level, acquiring these services is entirely trivial. At 1,000 gp per item, the choice of whether or not to outsource magic item identification to an NPC becomes much weightier.

Besides, if 1,000 gp is too rich for their blood, the players always have the option of identifying things the old fashioned way - by simply using them, or bullying their henchmen and hirelings into using them. I'm interested to see if the players ever use that option, or if they're much too fearful of the possible drawbacks to try it.

The Long Road

Next, the party embarked on their long journey south. It would be three and half days of travel from Spiritbrook to Mythshire, a day from Mythshire to Southreach, and another day from Southreach to Houndrun. The first leg of their journey (a total of ten random encounter checks) passed without incident, and they safely reached Mythshire. The tower of Lord Montaigu, the town's tyrannical wizard overlord, loomed in the center of town.

As the party passed through the town's square, they encountered a crowd of onlookers gathered around a party of adventurers. The adventurers in turn were gathered around a cart which contained the bloody remains of a pegasus, and a crate holding four pegasus eggs. A female fighter stood on the cart, holding aloft a disembodied pegasus head, proclaiming the party to be the Pit Fighters of Self-Restraint - the greatest adventurers in the land!

It was clear at this point that the players had no interest in the pegasus-butchering quest - I hadn't really expected them to pursue it to begin with, but enjoy throwing in an "evil" quest now and then to see what they might do - so I decided that as they passed through Mythshire, they'd encounter a rival group of evil adventurers who had taken the hook in their stead. I felt it was the most interesting thing I could do with a hook that otherwise would go unused.

The townspeople were variably amazed by the adventurers and disgusted by their brutality, fearing what the dreadful Lord Montaigu might do with a handful of pegasus eggs. The player characters were somewhat incensed by this grisly display, but decided against starting a fight in town. Maybe their inaction will have repercussions down the line, or maybe it won't. Either way, I plan for them to run into the Pit fighters of Self-Restraint again in the future. If I do my job right, they'll learn to despise them.

The party opted not to stay the night in Mythshire, and instead pushed on towards Southreach (three random encounter checks). Immediately outside the gates, they encountered a small group of merchants with a retinue of armed guards (this was the first random encounter of the session, despite quite a bit of traveling to this point). I decided to roll dice to determine which luxury resource from Civilization V the merchants were carrying, and got pearls, so I decided they were from a far away coastal or island nation and had crabs, ivory, and pearls.

The guards were led by a 6th-level fighter, and since they were from a seafaring civilization I arbitrarily decided that it would be funny if the leader had a trident of fish command for Haymond Baler to fawn over. The two engaged in a humorous dialogue while waiting in a queue to enter the city. 

The fighter, Germando (randomly determined using Fantasy Name Generators, and humorously similar to Haymond's own name) regaled Haymond with stories of underwater battles with shark men and giant octopi, and encouraged Haymond to seek out magical means to plumb the undersea depths and find a fine magical trident of his own some day.

The party stayed in Southreach for the evening and splurged on crab stew, courtesy of the merchants they had met. While wandering the streets, Ash was nearly embroiled in a random encounter with some rowdy workers, but was able to avoid an altercation. Haymond bought an ox, a cart, a guard dog, and a hunting dog.

I had become aware at this point that my settlements need some work. They are usually something of an afterthought for me - a place for the party to sleep, gather rumors, recruit NPCs, shop, acquire services, and the like. Aside from the local ruler and nearby quest hooks, they don't have much character. I've decided to try to devote more time to fleshing them out with more details. 

I don't particularly care what the local inns are called or what the blacksmith's name is, but it would be nice to know a factoid or two about local history, landmarks, important NPCs, and potential quests to be had in the settlement itself. I'm not entirely sure how I intend to flesh all that out and make it gameable (how many adventure sights should be in a village? a town? a city?), but it's something I'm definitely thinking about.

Red in Tooth and Claw

The next day, the party moved onto Houndrun (one random encounter check), and arrived without incident. They sought out the foreman of the local logging company, whose name I cannot recall and did not write down - I was anticipating more random encounters and did not expect the players to get this far during this session. Hopefully, one of the players took notes!

The foreman told the party that a local tribe, who call themselves the Wolfkin, had come under new leadership, and were aggressively attacking logging camps on the fringes of Houndrun's domain. The party would be rewarded so long as the foreman was satisfied that their operations could continue safely, whether that be by wiping out the raiders, killing their leader, negotiating a peace, or the like.

Haymond asked the foreman if he had anything which belonged to the tribe, so that his new hunting dog could get a scent. The foreman had a wolf pelt which the tribe's warriors wore as headdresses. With the scent, the party set out the next day towards the forest. It would take them about half a day (5 hours) to reach the last logging camp that was raided, and they hoped to find the Wolkin camp deeper in the forest beyond that.

At the edge of the forest, the party encountered a mounted patrol from Houndrun. The patrol had just scouted out the nearby logging camp which had been sacked, and were returning with Houndrun's dead. They warned the party that the camp was a brutal sight, and wished them the best of luck on in their endeavors. The patrol was not about to go running off into the deep woods to find the Wolfkin themselves.

The party reached the sacked logging camp, which had been put to the torch. There were slain barbarians scattered about. At this point, they continued on in the direction Haymond's hunting dog pulled them. The party had six more random encounter checks, which amounted to nothing. This is likely the most fortunate they've been with random encounters so far! If my math is correct, they had something like 23 random encounter checks this session, and only ended up with two encounters - one with merchants and one with a patrol.

Running Up That Hill

At about midday the following day, the thick forest cleared somewhat, and the party camp upon a hill surrounded by a wooden palisade. I rolled to determine the distance, and they were in luck - the tree line was only about ten feet from the hill, allowing the party to get very close without being detected. I Googled "barbarian camp battle map" and picked this one from Neutral Party (they are my go-to for simple wilderness maps when I need them, whereas Dyson Logos is my choice for dungeon crawl scenarios and the occasionally subterranean monster lair):

One of the players helpfully drew a line to indicate that the tree line was much closer to the hill than indicated by the map. The party was approaching from the northeast, so they entered near the upper right corner of the map, just below the hill with the big tent, which I decided was about twenty feet tall.

There was a single guard stationed on the hill at the rear of the tent, watching for intruders from Houndrun's direction. There were more guards stationed at the front gate. Karven decided to sneak up to the bottom of the hill and silently climb up to assassinate the guard. The rest of the party stayed back, with missile weapons ready in case things went south.

Karven easily climbed the hill (together with his climb walls thief ability and the nature of the slope, he had just a 5% chance of failing). Unnoticed by the guard, Karven leapt into action and successfully delivered a backstab...for 2 damage. Fortunately, the guard had 2 hit points (I rolled 2 on a d6)! He silenced the guard's death cry, then secured a rope for the other party members to climb up. Hilariously, Ash, Haymond, and Yinvalur all failed to do so, and went tumbling down the hill for minor damage. After that, they tied the rope about their waists and had the party members at the top haul them up.

This is where we wrapped for the night. Haymond and Karven both leveled up - Haymond is now 3rd-level and Karven is 4th-level. Haymond gained more hit points, a weapon and nonweapon proficiency, and his saving throws and THAC0 improved. Karven also gained more hit points and a weapon and nonweapon profiency, plus more thieving skill points, and he can now begin spending those points on his read languages ability.

Next time, the players will poke around the Wolfkin camp and try to figure out what's going on and how best to approach the problem. I have very little idea what they're going to do, which is very exciting!