On Elemental Damage

D&D 5e has thirteen damage types. This post is concerned with the most fundamental of these damage types - the most primordial ingredients in the great soup of D&D combat. No, not bludgeoning, piercing, and slashing - the elements!

There are five damage types which are generally considered "elemental":

Acid. The corrosive spray of a black dragon's breath and the dissolving enzymes secreted by a black pudding deal acid damage.

Cold. The infernal chill radiating from an ice devil's spear and the frigid blast of a white dragon's breath deal cold damage.

Fire. Red dragons breathe fire, and many spells conjure flames to deal fire damage.

Lightning. A lightning bolt spell and a blue dragon's breath deal lightning damage.

Thunder. A concussive burst of sound, such as the effect of the thunderwave spell, deals thunder damage.

What's that you say? "But the elemental planes in D&D are air, earth, fire, and water"? Well, I'm talking about damage types, not the four elements. What's that? "The chromatic dragons, which more or less personify the elements, represent acid, cold, fire, lightning, and poison"?

Well, trust me. These are the five elemental damage types. Acid and thunder are definitely elements. And I have proof! Absorb elements is a spell which can be cast as a reaction, "which you take when you take acid, cold, fire, lightning, or thunder damage". The Elemental Adept feat allows the character to specialize in a damage type, choosing between acid, cold, fire, lightning, and thunder.

Moving on, there is something to be said about the fact that D&D's damage types come into play only when and if a creature is resistant, immune, or vulnerable to a type of damage. Sure, skeletons are vulnerable to bludgeoning and trolls can't regenerate if you hit them with acid or fire. Demons have a bunch of resistances that make them marginally more difficult to fight. But that's pretty much it. 

I think every damage type could use a little love - a reason to use one type over another in a given situation, besides overcoming the "challenge" of resistances. To start, though, here are my ideas for just the elemental damage types:

• Acid: Effective against pretty much anything that burns. Ineffective against oozes, water elementals, and any creature submerged in water. 
• Each instance of acid damage reduces a creature's nonmagical physical armor class by 1 (i.e., it does not affect adjustments from Dexterity or magic), to a minimum of 10. At AC 10, worn armor is destroyed. Natural armor heals at a rate of 1 AC per day. 
• A creature killed by acid damage has a part or all of its body dissolved (requiring more powerful resurrection magic to bring them back to life). Player characters reduced to 0 hit points by acid damage usually lose at least a hand or a foot, or suffer serious scars.

• Cold: Super effective against plants and creatures accustomed to warmth. Ineffective against creatures magically adapted to the cold (i.e., yetis) and against undead. 
• Freezes water and other liquids. Underwater, cold spells which originate from the caster (i.e., ray of frost, cone of cold) have half range.
• Each instance of cold damage reduces a creature's speed by 10 feet until the end of their next turn (reminder: when their speed reaches 0, flying creatures fall unless they can hover).
• A creature killed by cold damage is frozen solid for a number of days equal to the level of the spell which killed them. This preserves the body similar to a gentle repose spell. For the duration, the creature is basically petrified. Any potions, poisons, or oils the creature carried are frozen for the same duration. Quick-thawing the creature with a heat source of any kind is generally ill-advised.

• Fire: Super effective against dry, papery creatures (i.e. scarecrows, mummies, and origami golems, a tumbleweed blight but not a shambling mound) and creatures accustomed to the cold. Instantaneous effects are ineffective against water elementals and any creature submerged in water. Sustained effects, however, can boil them alive.
• Sets thing on fire. Don't cast fireball in the ancient library, obviously. Fire also doesn't care if things are worn or carried. Clothing and spellbooks are set on fire just the same as scenery. 
• Each instance of fire damage causes a flammable creature or object to take one die of damage (die size determined by the original effect, e.g., 1d6 from a fireball or 1d10 from a fire bolt) at the end of each of its turns unless it takes an action to extinguish the fire or submerges itself in water.
• A creature killed by fire damage continues to burn. Its body becomes ash in a number of turns equal to 9 minus the level of the effect (cantrips and equipment like torches and burning oil count as level 1). A player character reduced to 0 hit points due to fire damage also continues to burn (meaning they automatically fail a death saving throw every round). Creatures/player characters reduced to 0 hit points by a 9th-level fire spell/effect (an ancient red dragon's breath) are immolated instantly.

• Lightning: Super effective against wet creatures and those made of/wearing metal. Ineffective against creatures made of stone (earth elementals, gargoyles, stone golems, etc.) or rubber (rubber band golems).
• Water and metal conduct electricity. Lightning attacks made against a wet creature or a creature made of or wearing metal have advantage. Wet creatures and creatures made of or wearing metal have disadvantage on saving throws against lightning effects. When a lightning effect targets a creature in the water, all creatures in that body of water are affected. No saving throw.
• A creature that takes lightning damage loses its reaction until the start of its next turn.
• Lightning can defibrillate dead creatures. A creature with access to a lightning spell can attempt a spellcasting ability check when adjacent to creature that has been dead for less than 1 minute. The DC equals 20 + the number of rounds the creature has been dead. On a success, the creature regains 1 hit point. If the creature is a player character, a success instead cancels out one failed death saving throw, allowing the character to continue making death saving throws.

• Thunder: Super effective against creatures with keen hearing (many animals and animal people) and those made of glass (stained glass golems). Ineffective against deafened creatures or within a zone of silence.
• A creature that takes thunder damage is deafened until the end of its next turn. While deafened, a creature has disadvantage on any checks or saving throws made to maintain balance (i.e., Acrobatics, resisting the prone condition) and cannot cast spells with verbal components.
• A creature killed by thunder damage which is resurrected is permanently deafened unless magical healing which restores lost body parts is employed. A player character reduced to 0 hit points by thunder damage who does not die is instead deafened for a number of days equal to the level of the effect.

And there you have it! Is this good? I don't know, but it's something! I really like the idea of taking a more "common sense" approach to 5e next time I play it. I think D&D in general and 5e especially sings much more sweetly when you let yourself be immersed in the fiction instead of the rules. 

Hopefully, these rules take what are normally nondescript beams and blasts of different colored energies and turn them into lifelike elements that create their own varied effects.

It's Gold *or* XP

"Gold for XP" is a concept from older editions of D&D. Essentially, characters get 1 XP per gold piece of treasure they acquire. 

The exact implementation of this concept varies between editions, retroclones, and individual DMs. Sometimes the characters get the XP as soon as they get the treasure. Sometimes they have to bring it back to town. Sometimes they have to spend it to get the XP. That might mean carousing or buying fancy clothes. Sometimes there's a training cost involved in leveling up.

My main issue with the gold for XP approach is that often, the character is getting both the gold and the XP. Even if the character is required to spend the gold, they're still gaining the XP from spending the gold in addition to whatever they spent the gold on, whether it be equipment, jewelry, NPC contacts, or whatever. The gold/XP is a double reward.

There's also simply isn't enough to meaningfully spend gold on in D&D - there's plate armor, hirelings, spell components, strongholds, and maybe magic items (although almost every version of D&D attempts to tell DMs that they should definitely not allow the purchase and sale of magic items, they never really provide any desirable alternative use for unwanted magic items or mountains of gold). 

In a gold for XP game, the DM has to juice the treasure being awarded to ensure the characters are advancing at an engaging rate. And in versions of the game like AD&D, when XP requirements were much higher, those numbers have to be juiced quite a bit. There isn't that much to spend money on, unless the players are really enthusiastic about playing house, throwing feasts, fielding armies, and the like. I'm personally into all of that stuff, but I've barely ever encountered other players who are.

In a gold for a XP game, I want the players to have something to spend their gold on, and I want that to be a choice. I don't want to handwave it and say "You throw it all away partying." But I also don't want them to have the jewels/stronghold/magic item and the XP.

It's gold or XP. That is, players must decide to convert gold to XP on a 1-to-1 basis. This way, player characters have something to spend their gold on (XP), and they have to choose whether they want the gold or the XP. They can't have both.

To use an example, an Old School Essentials fighter comes back from the dungeon with 2,000 gold's worth of treasure - exactly enough to reach 2nd-level. However, the fighter has to convert all of their gold into XP in order to do so. They might want to spend some of it on plate mail, or they may need to recruit new hirelings. If they spend any of the gold, they can't level up. They have to make a choice.

Every single use for treasure now comes with this same drawback and becomes a choice: Would you rather bribe that NPC, buy that magic item, and build that stronghold, or put all that gold towards your next level?

A character who spends their gold on material things will have fewer levels, but will be richer in equipment, land, and connections. A character who spends their gold on XP will be inherently more powerful but lacking in material wealth. A 9th-level fighter with a stronghold and an army is more capable of affecting change in the world than a 20th-level fighter with nothing.

Gold or XP also allows for differences between players and groups to emerge. The player who chooses to kit out their character will be slightly behind the ones who focus purely on progression. And, assuming equal division of treasure, any discrepancies are the result of how the individual players choose to spend their share of gold. 

A particularly cooperative group of players could even choose to contribute shares of gold towards ensuring a certain character levels up, if it's in the group's best interest. For example, if a 9th-level character dies and a new one joins the party at 1st-level, the surviving characters might pool their resources to bring the new character closer to their own level. Or, if the cleric is just shy of reaching the level when they can cast raise dead - which the other players agree it would be in the party's best interest to have access to - they can pool their money towards getting the cleric to that level.

I'm not particularly concerned with how to rationalize this in the fiction of the game or whether it "makes sense". It is purely a game abstraction. Sometimes I'm hyper fixated on the game's fiction and what mechanics narratively represent, and sometimes I don't care.

If there must be some logic to it, one could define it vaguely as "training expenses", although I think it's difficult to justify the fighter spending 120,000 gold in order to train and gain...2 hit points. There are certain things in D&D which simply have to be accepted as abstract game elements.

If I were to go the training route, I would definitely make that something the characters must seek out and devote time to in the fiction, however. For example, a wizard who wants to attain 2nd-level could train under the 4th-level hedge wizard in the starting village, but that same wizard would have to travel to the megacity's magical academy to attain 20th-level. This also requires having access to competent NPCs who are willing to tutor the character.

As for how long training takes, it could be one week per level to be gained, or maybe one week to gain a Tier 1 level and four weeks to gain a Tier 4 level. That could lead to some cool moments where after training for five months in their distant corners of the world, the Avengers-style party gets back together for One Last Job.

If I end up playing any edition of D&D this year, I'll definitely be taking this for a spin. I would most likely do this with Old School Essentials. The official adventures give out a lot of gold, but the rules don't really present much at all to spend it on. It could also be fun with 5e, particularly because I feel I've gotten the hang of pricing magic items for sale in that edition, which is where this type of choice would really shine, but I'm trying to play other games this year.

On Hands (and how to use them)

Okay, weird post title. Bear with me.

This post was inspired by Warren D.'s post "WHAT'S INTERESTING ABOUT BASIC DUNGONEERING: And what is not" on the I Cast Light! blog. What got me thinking about hands specifically is Warren's thoughts on light and weapons (highlights mine):

Light: Due to torch cost and number per slot, it is easy to carry a lot of torches.

Not interesting: Carrying enough light to last 12-24 turns- easily done

Interesting: When torches extinguish-- like in the middle of a fight or when the goblins you are negotiating with get mad; how many hands in the party are occupied by torches

... 

Weapons: I've yet to find a really good way to do weapons simply outside of 1d6 damage for all types. I don't mind BX's variable weapon damage. And I do like some old rulesets sorta "first strike" if your weapon is larger than an opponents other wise smaller, lighter weapons strike first in subsequent arounds.

So here is what I have got so far: Using a weapon two-handed is a +1 to damage, using an off-hand weapon is +1 to-hit, and a shield is of course +1 AC. I do like that fighters with bows can shoot twice if they did not move and the "cleave" ability.

Not interesting: Weapon factors that are so extensive they require a separate rules discussion, trigger player obsession, and/or orient the whole of gameplay to combat

Interesting: What PCs chose to do with their hands: more armor, more weapons, or more light

What I'm interested in is how player characters choose to use their hands. It's a simple thing, but it's important - a hand can do any of the following things:

• Cast a spell with material or somatic components
• Hold a torch or lantern (providing light with which to see)
• Increase weapon damage (per my rules for variable weapon damage, using two hands increases a weapon's damage die size by one) 
• Increase a weapon's reach (most weapons with the reach property require two hands to use)
• Increase a weapon's range (ranged weapons which require two hands, such as bows, usually have a longer range than those which require one hand, such as thrown weapons)
• Interact with objects (open doors, throw levers, withdraw items from a bag or pouch)
• Make an extra attack (if dual wielding or a monk)
• Provide extra protection (a hand used to hold a shield provides +2 to the character's armor class)
• Use items (drink a potion, read a scroll, activate a wand, etc.)

It's something many DMs might not even think about, and I suspect that most modern DMs view it as one of those things - like encumbrance - which is too onerous to keep track of, and simply don't, beyond "Is the character dual-wielding, two-handing, or using a shield?" I have certainly forgotten about it a good number of times. In fact, when thinking about this, I realized that in a recent AD&D 2e session, I forgot about something very important - light.

Who is Carrying the Light?

The player characters were exploring a network of subterranean tunnels made by a brood of ankhegs. When the party first entered the tunnels, I said, "It's dark, so you'll probably want a light source. Who is carrying the light?" Then, when the party had its climactic battle with the ankheg brood, I never once considered the issue of light. Characters were firing bows, dual wielding, two-handing, and wielding shields. Who was carrying the light? Could the characters even see? I don't know.

When not in combat, the question of who is carrying the light isn't incredibly important. One might as well assume that all of the characters are carrying light unless they state otherwise. Characters might place a torch in a sconce when exploring a room or put it on the ground while they check a chest for traps. True, monsters hidden far away in the dark might target the torchbearer specifically, but in that case, the DM can simply check with the players who exactly is carrying the light before springing the ambush, after which the specifics become more crucial.

Once combat begins, it becomes very important who is carrying the light, because that character can't use their light-carrying hand to cast spells, wield a weapon with both hands, interact with other objects, duel wield (aside from using the torch as a weapon), wield a shield, or use items. That character is making a choice to benefit the rest of the party (by providing light) at the expense of their own tactical versatility. It's part of what makes light-providing spells, weapons, torchbearers, and the like valuable - they can provide light without occupying a hand.

Furthermore, the light source typically moves with the torchbearer, unless the torchbearer drops their torch on the ground in order to free up their other hand. Monsters may attempt to attack the torchbearer and snuff out the light. So, keeping track of who is carrying the light in these scenarios is very important. 

Stow, Drop, and Draw

In D&D 5e, a character can interact with one object for free on their turn, as part of their attack or move action (PHB, page 190). This includes drawing a weapon as part of the action they use to make an attack, opening a door as they move through it, picking up a dropped item, stowing an item, or withdrawing a stowed item. Redditors will happily say that according to the rules, a spellcaster wielding a sword and shield can drop their sword (no action required), freeing up a hand to cast a spell, then immediately pick up the sword again (using their free object interaction).

I hate this. It's stupid. Changing what hand is doing what is a tactical choice. It should have benefits and drawbacks like any other.

Baldur's Gate 3 is the current hotness as far as video games based on 5e go, but another 5e-based game, Solasta: The Crown of the Magister, is much better at little rules minutia like this. In Solasta, each character has weapon sets - a primary weapon set, a secondary weapon set, and a light source set. A character can switch between sets once on their turn.

So if a character is wielding a sword and shield, but wants to make a ranged attack, they switch to their longbow. After attacking with their longbow, they cannot then switch back to their sword and shield to benefit from the improved armor class. If light is an issue, the character can switch to holding their sword and torch, but cannot then switch back to their sword and shield.

This is more or less how I do it in my games, although locking characters into using predefined "weapon sets" is not exactly lifelike. Instead, I implement a stow/drop/draw action, which allows a character to switch what they're holding in each hand once per turn. They can drop their torch and draw another weapon, stow their sword and draw their wand, stow two items to free up both hands, or any combination of those things, so long as the item being held or not is interacted with just once, and the hand switches between only two items per turn. That means no dropping an item to do something with the hand and then picking the item right back up again.

To Two-Hand or Not to Two-Hand

A character who chooses to wield a two-handed weapon is making a deliberate choice. They are doing more damage if they hit, but they are sacrificing increased armor class (from a shield) and number of chances to hit (a dual-wielding character is making an extra attack each round). 

Only, are they actually doing more damage than a dual-wielding character? Using my own rules for variant weapon damage, a character wielding a heavy martial weapon with two hands does d12 damage. A character wielding a light martial weapon in each hand does d6 damage with each. If they hit with both, they do an average of 7 damage, versus the two-hander's average 6.5. Not a huge difference, but it's there.

On top of that, normally, the player does not add their character's Strength or Dexterity modifier to the damage roll from their off-hand weapon, but the two-weapon fighting style allows them to do so, which can make the disparity greater. The dual-wielder also has an extra chance to score a critical hit.

But aha, two-handed weapons only require two hands when making an attack (PHB, page 146)! The second hand is free for the rest of the character's turn, allowing them to manipulate objects, draw items, and the like. If they can cast spells, they might also use their now-free hand for that (more on that later). If the dual-wielder wants to free up a hand, they have to use their stow/drop/draw action on that turn to do so, then use their stow/drop/draw action again on their next turn to switch back. Not a huge difference, but it's there.

Shields

Shields might be an exception to the stow/drop/draw action rule. In 5e, shields require a full action to don or doff (PHB, page 146). This feels overly punitive to me. I would rule that a character could switch their shield out for another item as if that hand was holding anything else. Maybe this isn't realistic (assuming the shield is strapped to the arm), but the gamey, mechanical tradeoff decision from round to round is what I'm interested in here, not realism.

This requires another change - in 5e, a character can benefit from a shield even if they're not proficient with shields. Here's the tradeoff: "If you wear armor that you lack proficiency with, you have disadvantage on any ability check, saving throw, or attack roll that involves Strength or Dexterity, and you can't cast spells" (PHB, page 144). 

That above rule doesn't matter (aside from making saving throws) if the character has already taken their action that turn, meaning a character without shield proficiency could take their action as normal, then whip out a shield to benefit from the extra AC. I don't want that.

So if we remove the action required to don or doff a shield, we have to go a bit further and say "You do not benefit from the bonus to Armor Class when wielding a shield with which you are not proficient." Easy.

The Buckler Shield

One thing I miss from AD&D is different types of shields. 2e has buckler shields, small shields, medium shields, and body shields. I've simplified this a bit in 5e, introducing light (buckler) shields, medium (standard) shields, and heavy (body) shields. 

A character no longer needs proficiency in shields to use one - they just need proficiency in the corresponding armor type. This means that classes which don't normally get to use shields (most bards, rogues, and warlocks) can now use some certain shields, which doesn't bother me.

Standard shields work the same as the typical 5e shield. Body shields are similar, but against ranged attacks from the front and flanks, the character is treated as having three-quarters cover (+5 to AC, instead of the +2 typical of shields).

The buckler is the important shield when it comes to the discussion of hands, because it's light and fastens to the forearm, allowing the hand of the shield arm to be used to do things like fire a bow or crossbow, cast a spell, hold a torch, open a door, or the like. So the character wielding a buckler never needs to worry about stowing, dropping, or drawing their shield.

The tradeoff is that the buckler shield only grants the +2 bonus to Armor Class against one attack per round, and only if the character uses their reaction. It comes in handy (haha), but only if the character's reaction isn't already spoken for, and it's still not as good as having a proper shield.

The Components of a Spellcaster

Finally, I want to talk about spellcasting components. There are three kinds of spell components in D&D 5e: verbal, somatic, and material (PHB, page 203). Every spell in D&D requires at least one of these components, but more often, some combination of two or all three components in order to cast. 

Verbal components are "mystic words" which are spoken aloud as the spell is cast. It's not enough to simply say the words - the combination of sounds requires "specific pitch and resonance" to "set the threads of magic in motion". It's why, in my opinion, a character cannot "quietly" or "stealthily" cast a spell. Uttering the verbal components is loud and showy - it's evident to everyone present that a spell is being cast, disgraced 5e designers be damned.

Somatic components "might include a forceful gesticulation or an intricate set of gestures". Material components are "particular objects" but can be substituted by a component pouch or spellcasting focus so long as the components has no cost and isn't consumed by the spell.

Here's where we get to hands: To cast a spell with somatic components, "the caster must have free use of at least one hand". To cast a spell with material components, "a spellcaster must have a hand free to access [the] material components". However, the hand used to access the material components "can be the same hand that [the caster] uses to perform somatic components".

It used to be that a caster's whole body had to be free to cast a spell. A spellcaster casting a spell with somatic components couldn't just wiggle their fingers. Their whole body had to move. They had to do a dumb little dance. A spellcaster could not move on the same turn they cast a spell. If they were on a ship in the middle of a storm, the rest of the party would have to brace them to hold them still so that they could cast without being thrown around the ship. This, along with proper Vancian spellcasting and simultaneous actions in combat - allowing spellcasters to be interrupted while casting - was a huge element of reigning in the power of spellcasters. 

5e has a much different conception of spellcasters. They're basically hyper-mobile artillery. They can run, ride, and fly around casting spells, and all the while, they only need one hand free. They can be restrained by a titanic boa constrictor and can still cast spells with somatic and material components, so long as they can wiggle their fingers.

I personally rule that a spellcaster can't cast spells with somatic components if they're, for example, grappled or restrained, and in that case, they also can't cast spells with a material component unless those materials are already in hand.

I'm inclined to take it a step farther. What if spellcasters needed one free hand for somatic components, and another for material components? Casting a spell which requires both is a full-body action, meaning the character has to stow or drop whatever other items are occupying their hands before they cast.

Unfortunately, the characters who would suffer most from this aren't the dedicated casters, who probably aren't holding much other than a spellcasting focus anyway - the true victims are those that straddle the line between fighting and spellcasting: artificers, clerics, druids, paladins, and rangers. These characters are spellcasters as well as characters that want to wield weapons and, often, shields.

Most of these classes have features which would mitigate the impact of this effect, allowing them to substitute some other item for a spellcasting focus. Artificers can use infused items as spellcasting foci, meaning that an artificer could infuse their weapon or shield, using it for their material components. Clerics and paladins can etch their holy symbol into a shield or, even better, simply wear it visibly on their person. Druids and - as of Tasha's Cauldron of Everything - rangers can use a druidic focus, which can be a staff, which is also a weapon (although maybe not the preferred one). 

In baseline 5e, this allows each of these character types to wield a useful item while still casting spells which require both somatic and material components (oddly, if the spell only requires a somatic component, they still need a free hand). If we change the rule to require one free hand for each of these components, then they at least need one less hand free.

These classes can also benefit from taking the War Caster feat, which eliminates the need for a free hand to use somatic components, so long as the character is wielding weapons or a shield in one or both hands (my reading of it is that the character couldn't cast a spell requiring somatic components while holding a torch in one hand and holding a potion in the other, for example).

Certain subclasses suffer more greatly - those classes which normally don't cast spells, but have subclasses which do, such as the eldritch knight fighter or the arcane trickster rogue, or those classes which normally don't wield weapons, but have subclasses which do, such as the swords and valor bards and the hexblade warlock. Since 5e is designed in such a way that casting spells with somatic components, material components, or both requires just one hand, this isn't normally a problem. If we require them to use both hands, they become much more limited. If I were to implement the house rule I'm proposing, I would likely give these subclasses some extra feature that allows them to use a weapon or shield as a focus.

Overall, I've not totally sold myself on making this change. It's not like changing a single spell or the way a class feature works, which is relatively easy - it's changing the base rules about how spellcasting as a whole works, which potentially has tons of knock-on effects. 

I'm not particularly interested in going through the whole spell list and analyzing the edge cases of which spells become more or less effective with different classes and subclasses depending on what they can and can't use as a spellcasting focus. It's the kind of thing that would require playtesting. Maybe next time I run a 5e game, I'll try it. Or maybe by then I'll have decided I don't really care.

The important take away is that I'm trying to pay more attention to what my players' characters are doing with their hands. Doing so generates interesting round-by-round decision points (holding a light source, choosing weapons, using a shield, and casting spells are all meaningful tradeoffs). This, and a healthy dose of common sense, reigns in more powerful character concepts, such as spellcasters (a wizard can't cast elaborate spells while being throttled by a tentacled beast). That at the very least is worth considering.

On Necromancy

Necromancy is one of eight schools of magic in D&D. The eight schools, as they are known today, were - as far as I can tell - introduced in AD&D 1e, with each spell's description listing the school to which it belonged. Actual descriptions of the schools of magic and what they represent would have to wait for AD&D 2e, which provides the following language about necromancy:

Necromancy is one of the most restrictive of all spell schools. It deals with dead things or the restoration of life, limbs, or vitality to living creatures. Although a small school, its spells tend to be powerful. Given the risks of the adventuring world, necromantic spells are considered quite useful.

Necromancy's portfolio in 2e is about what one would expect: raising the dead, draining the vitality of others (without killing them necessarily), summoning or controlling the corporeal dead and spirits, and death-dealing magic like death spell and finger of death. A few oddballs exist such as contagion (diseases are a form of life), magic jar (which manipulates the soul, i.e. the spiritual essence of a creature), and clone (which involves the creation of a new life).

Clerics in 2e also have access to the necromantic sphere of influence, which includes many of the same or similar spells, but also a great deal of curative magic: cure blindness and deafness, cure disease, raise dead, regenerate, reincarnate, etc. Another sphere, healing, also contains a number of spells which are in the necromancy school (yes, cleric spells are organized both by school and by sphere, for some reason), including all of the cure wounds spells, slow poison and neutralize poison, and heal.

The next description of necromancy I'll examine is from 5e. It's much the same as the 2e description, with one exception:

Necromancy spells manipulate the energies of life and death. Such spells can grant an extra reserve of life force, drain the life energy from another creature, create the undead, or even bring the dead back to life.

Creating the undead through the use of necromancy spells such as animate dead is not a good act, and only evil casters use such spells frequently.

Here, the creation of undead is explicitly identified as being an evil act. 

Is Necromancy Evil? 

This is a debate that people love to have, and I'm not going to get into the weeds of it, beyond saying that this is entirely an issue of setting. In 2e, creating undead is not Evil because the basic undead - skeletons and zombies - are Neutral in alignment; whether they are "Good" or "Evil" is entirely dependent upon what their creator does with them. 

In 5e, creating undead is Evil because these creatures are suffused with life-hating negative energy. The caster is creating a creature that is Evil - regardless of what the caster intends to do with the undead, they are bringing an Evil creature into the world, which is an Evil thing to do, according to D&D's morality.

That's just baseline, vanilla 5e. The DM can do anything they want with their setting, including making basic undead creatures Neutral by default, thus eliminating the inherent Evilness of creating such creatures. Whether or not society at large frowns upon such acts is again entirely up to the DM. 

It may be accepted that the crown animates the dead to perform menial labor or serve in the military, and this may be viewed as a patriotic service which every citizen (or at least the poor ones) anticipates after death. Simultaneously, it may be frowned upon when independent necromancers break into ancestral tombs and animate the dead without proper authorization. I imagine most common folk don't appreciate the necromancer who comes to the village with a menagerie of rotting corpses in tow, regardless of whether or not the gods care.

Necromancy, Black Magic, and Reversible Spells

Another key difference between AD&D's necromancy and modern D&D's necromancy is in spell classification. In 3e, many healing spells were reclassified from necromancy to conjuration. In 5e, they now fall into the evocation school - cure wounds, healing word, heal, etc. Evocation is the school of magic which channels energy from different planes - in this case, the caster is channeling positive energy from the Positive Energy Plane. Sure.

Necromancy in 5e retains most of the spells which restore the dead to life - revivify, raise dead, and resurrection. Reincarnate has been relocated to transmutation. This doesn't make a lot of sense, since the spell "forms a new adult body for [a dead humanoid creature] and then calls the soul to enter that body." This sounds more like a fusion of conjuration and necromancy - the caster is creating a new body (conjuration) and putting the dead creature's soul into it (necromancy). They're not actually transforming the original body (which would be transmutation). The clone spell (which remains a necromancy spell in 5e) also creates a new body for a creature, so it seems safe to say that reincarnate should still be a necromancy spell.

The big difference is that in 5e, necromancy seems to be associated with "black magic". Despite the description of the school stating only that creating undead is Evil, the actual spells which are in the school instead seem to suggest that the practice of necromancy in most forms is Evil - it is now, to some extent, the magic of causing fear (cause fear - which "awaken[s] the sense of mortality" in a creature in order to elicit magical fear) and cursing (bestow curse, blindness/deafness, and eyebite - for some reason, similar cursing spells like bane and hex are instead in the enchantment school).

I suspect that to some extent, this is because 5e does not have the concept of reversible spells. As far back as OD&D, curses were possible by way of casting a reversed bless spell. Finger of death was a reversed raise dead. In AD&D, cause fear was a reversed remove fear. In these versions of D&D, only Evil clerics use the reversed versions of spells, suggesting that reversed spells were solely in the realm of black magic. With the loss of reversible spells, the Evil magic had to go somewhere, so it was distributed into a couple of odd schools, one of which is necromancy.

Does that make necromancy Evil? I don't know. Is summoning a demon Evil? Is scrying on someone during their most intimate moments Evil? Is mind-controlling someone Evil? What about blowing someone up with a fireball, creating an image of their greatest fear and scaring them to death, or "permanently" turning them into a fly? 

Magic in all its forms is terrifying. Even when it's used in the name of "Good", the effects are such that, even in dire circumstances, I doubt that the ends totally justify the means. Players characters are quick to do all these nasty things - and often take great delight in doing so. I don't see much point in hand wringing about necromancy in particular.

The Necromancer

Although schools of magic weren't delineated until AD&D, the term "necromancer" in D&D dates back to 1974 and Book I: Men & Magic, where "Necromancer" is the title bestowed upon 10th-level magic-users (the level immediately preceding becoming a true wizard, suggesting that necromancers are quite powerful in this implied setting).

AD&D 1e had the illusionist class, which is the first inkling of the specialist wizard class that was to come in 2e. In 2e, specialists (including necromancers) have an increased chance to learn spells from their chosen school of magic and to create new spells which fall into their school. Their opponents suffer a -1 penalty to saving throws against spells from their chosen school, and the specialist receives a +1 bonus to saving throws against spell from their school. This affects spells like chill touch, spectral hand, and hold undead.

The 2e necromancer cannot cast spells from the enchantment and illusion schools, as they are schools of opposition for necromancers. I've written briefly before about how I think the restrictions imposed by schools of opposition should be interpreted. In this case, why would a wizard who's preoccupied entirely with the dead care to concern themselves with enchantment magic, which typically only influences the living? In 2e, most undead are entirely unaffected by mind-altering magic of any kind, which would also explain why the necromancer doesn't care to study illusions.

In 5e, the necromancer (along with the other specialists) returns as one of the eight subclasses (Arcane Traditions) available to wizards in the PHB. Necromancers regain hit points whenever they kill a creature with magic (earning 50% more hit points when using a necromancy spell to do so), they can create one additional skeleton or zombie when casting animate dead (which they learn for free, albeit a level later than they otherwise would if they simply picked it as one of their new spells on a level up), their undead are tougher and hit harder, they gain resistance to necrotic damage and immunity to maximum HP reduction (5e's watered-down version of the undead's infamous level draining powers of yore), and eventually, they can control even the more powerful undead which they cannot create themselves, such as liches, mummy lords, and vampires.

Not too bad, but beyond those first two features, there isn't much incentive to actually use necromancy spells. As I described in my previous post on specialist spellcasters, like most "specialists", the necromancer is likely to pick the few spells that benefit from their handful of features (in this case, any damaging necromancy spells and any spells which create undead). Otherwise, their spell selection probably looks like any other wizard's.

Army of Darkness

Can a necromancer in D&D actually command an undead army? Realistically, it is highly campaign-and DM-dependent. Theoretically, according to Reddit's calculations, the answer is yes. But that's Reddit - people there only think/talk/complain about D&D on the internet, but I am grateful to them for doing the arduous theory-crafting while normal people actually play the game they like with their friends.

If I was going to play a necromancer, I'd pay close attention to undead-maxing, and I'd make sure to take every opportunity to add to my collection. The best way to do this without having to worry about reasserting control over the undead every day is to simply kill every enemy humanoid encountered with finger of death, which turns said humanoids into zombies permanently under the caster's control.

I'd make sure to secure a headquarters for myself wherever the party's base of operations was, and I'd be pilfering piles of bones and black onyx stones from every dungeon I could find. My downtime and spell slots would be spent raising the dead and learning more powerful spells to do so.

If I was really serious about having an undead army, I'd spend some time tracking down the wand of Orcus, which can summon 500 hit points of skeletons and zombies per day (unfortunately, they only last until dawn).

Some DMs might be upset if their necromancer player tried to run around with 100+ undead minions, but if I had a player who was willing to do the math, show their work, and put in the in-game time and dedication, I'd be nothing but excited to help them pull it off.

Healing the Wounded, Raising the Dead

I get that wizards aren't supposed to heal people - it's not their role in the game, and niches should be protected so that the classes each retain their archetypal identities. However, I don't think it would be the end of the world if necromancers, at the very least, could heal and raise the dead (i.e., not as an undead creature). That strikes me as the main reason a wizard in a fantasy world would choose to become a necromancer specifically, with all the stigma potentially attached to it - it gets you access to things the other schools don't.

I do think spells which raise the dead kind of suck - read more about how to make it interesting at Prismatic Wasteland, which is what got me thinking about this topic to begin with. However I also kind of like the silly, comic book-y, video game-y triviality with which characters can perish and then return to life. I like that, like worrying about food, water, torches, magic item identification, overland travel, getting lost, and many other low-level concerns, death is simply another setback (albeit an extreme one) which characters can more or less cease to worry about after a certain point in the game. I like a fantasy world where one can go to the local temple and pay a boatload of gold to defy Death and the gods themselves, all for the sake of convenience and getting back to playing the game. However, even this has its limits.

I use a few rules from AD&D to spice up resurrection in my 5e games: resurrection survival chance and permanent Constitution loss. In AD&D, a character has a percentage chance of being successfully raised from the dead determined by their Constitution score (from 40% with a Constitution of 3 to 100% with a Constitution of 18). A failed roll indicates that the character is dead forever. 

Furthermore, the character's Constitution score is a limit on the number of times they can be raised from the dead - each time they die, their Constitution is reduced by 1, which in turn affects their chance of later being raised from the dead, because the resurrection survival chance is dependent on Constitution. 

Note that this means that technically, a character with Constitution 15 can be raised from the dead 15 times. After the 15th time, their Constitution is now 0 - I have no idea how this is supposed to work, and would rule instead that a dead character is permanently dead if their Constitution score is 1 at the time of death. I imagine that a player would have to be pretty bad (or extremely good, depending on one's goals of play) at D&D to have a character die this many times, so it would probably never come up anyway.

In 5e, I import the Constitution reduction when raised from the dead (I actually make it -2 Constitution each time a character is raised, since death is fairly rare, and this both ensures that the character's ability score modifier is actually affected and reduces the overall number of times that the character can be raised). I also import resurrection survival checks - characters who are raised from the dead must succeed on a DC 10 Constitution saving throw or be permanently dead. The DC increases by 5 each time the character dies. I could make it a Constitution check, if I wanted it to be harder, but the rule is pretty harsh as is, and it being a saving throw makes certain classes (such as barbarians and fighters) easier to raise, which I do like.

Clone Wars

Clone is a nifty spell. From 5e:

This spell grows an inert duplicate of a living, Medium creature as a safeguard against death. This clone forms inside a sealed vessel and grows to full size and maturity after 120 days; you can also choose to have the clone be a younger version of the same creature. It remains inert and endures indefinitely, as long as its vessel remains undisturbed.

At any time after the clone matures, if the original creature dies, its soul transfers to the clone, provided that the soul is free and willing to return. The clone is physically identical to the original and has the same personality, memories, and abilities, but none of the original’s equipment. The original creature’s physical remains, if they still exist, become inert and can’t thereafter be restored to life, since the creature’s soul is elsewhere.

I'm not really sure why it's limited to just medium-sized creatures. The necromancer should be able to clone a dragon, if they can get access to some of its flesh. Why not? Can't make a big enough urn?

The 120-day gestation period and expensive material components do beg the question as to why this is any better than, say, revivify, raise dead, or resurrection. My guess is that it's because all of those spells require an intact body, and clone does not. True resurrection, which also doesn't require a body, is a 9th-level spell, so clone (an 8th-level spell) comes earlier. Plus, it's just cool and weird. Any self-respecting wizard of mine (it's a wizard-only spell, barring bards' Magical Secrets) is going to have one of these bad boys lined up at all times during the late stages of a campaign.

But wait - as is often the case, the AD&D version of this spell is way cooler. From 2e:

This spell creates a duplicate of a human, demihuman, or humanoid creature. This clone is in most respects the duplicate of the individual, complete to the level of experience, memories, etc. However, the duplicate really is the person, so if the original and a duplicate exist at the same time, each knows of the other's existence; the original person and the clone will each desire to do away with the other, for such an alter-ego is unbearable to both. If one cannot destroy the other, one will go insane and destroy itself (90% likely to be the clone), or possibly both will become mad and destroy themselves (2% chance). These events nearly always occur within one week of the dual existence.

Note that the clone is the person as he existed at the time at which the flesh was taken for the spell component, and all subsequent knowledge, experience, etc., is totally unknown to the clone. The clone is a physical duplicate, and possessions of the original are another matter entirely. A clone takes 2d4 months to grow, and only after that time is dual existence established. Furthermore, the clone has one less Constitution point than the body it was cloned from; the cloning fails if the clone would have a Constitution of 0.

The material component of the spell is a small piece of the flesh from the person to be duplicated.

This is fantastic. AD&D's clone creates an actual clone, rather than an inert backup body. The clone and, to a lesser extent, the magic-user, cannot bear to exist simultaneously. They will destroy each other or go mad and destroy themselves. I have a roster of wizard characters who I play in 5e, who all look alike and hate one another, and their secret is that they're all clones of an AD&D wizard (technically, they would have gone mad and destroyed themselves by now, but eh).

Okay, so the magic-user can make a clone. What's the point if they can't use their clone as a duplicate of themselves, subject to their whims? Why would I want to make something that will try to destroy me or cause me to destroy myself?

First, I see this version of clone as a true last resort - a clone is something a magic-user prepares when they're almost certain that they're marching to their doom. So long as the clone doesn't finish its gestation until after the original wizard is dead, it's fine. Alternatively, clone can still be a backup waiting in the wings, but if the clone has been gestating for about two months and the magic-user is still alive, they should probably destroy the clone and get started on a new one, just to be safe.

Second, why not use clone to destroy one's enemies? If the magic-user can somehow acquire the flesh of a foe, the resulting clone will be Hell-bent on destroying their alter-ego. If the party's goals align with the clone's (i.e., they too are trying to destroy the alter-ego), the party now has a new ally in the form of their enemy's exact duplicate. They just have to destroy the original before the clone goes mad.

The clone has all of the memories of its original self, however, so once the original is destroyed, the clone might turn out to also not like the party very much, depending on the circumstances. But hey, the party helped the clone out - surely that must be worth something!

Finger of Unconsciousness

Finger of death sucks in 5e. I'll explain why.

You send negative energy coursing through a creature that you can see within range, causing it searing pain. The target must make a Constitution saving throw. It takes 7d8 + 30 necrotic damage on a failed save, or half as much damage on a successful one.

A humanoid killed by this spell rises at the start of your next turn as a zombie that is permanently under your command, following your verbal orders to the best of its ability.

Finger of death doesn't kill characters (except by massive damage). A character reduced to 0 HP by the spell starts making death saving throws. A monster or NPC reduced to 0 HP by the spell (usually) dies outright. This should be worded more like disintegrate:

A creature targeted by this spell must make a Dexterity saving throw. On a failed save, the target takes 10d6 + 40 force damage. The target is disintegrated if this damage leaves it with 0 hit points.

Finger of death should say "The target is dead if this damage leaves it with 0 hit points." And it does just that in my 5e games. More player characters should become zombies under the DM's control.

Furthermore, as with clone, I don't see why this should only zombify humanoid creatures. I want to slay a dragon with this spell and have a zombie dragon under my control.

"I worked hard for this!"

Enlich Yourself

No discussion of necromancy would be complete without touching on lichdom, the ultimate aspiration of evil spellcasters the world over. After all, there's no other way for a creature to live forever, right? 

Uh yeah, well, resurrection magic and clone exist, sure, but resurrection requires that the spellcaster has loyal friends or followers who will raise their evil ass, and clones are susceptible to pesky adventurers breaking into the spellcaster's stronghold and smashing all their clone vats (plus, my 5e house rule about Constitution loss for resurrection applies to clones as well, so that isn't sustainable forever, either).

But finding out where a lich is hiding its phylactery, acquiring it, figuring out how to destroy it, and actually doing it? That's hard. That's why a spellcaster becomes a lich - that, and, like, all the other benefits. Based on the statblock, I'd say that a 5e character who becomes a lich gains the following benefits:

• Natural AC of 14 + Dex
• Constitution saving throw proficiency (assuming the 5e lich's proficiency with Intelligence and Wisdom saving throws is due to being a wizard)
• Resistance to cold, lightning, and necrotic damage
• Immunity to poison and nonmagical weapon attacks
• Immunity to exhaustion and the charmed, frightened, paralyzed, and poisoned conditions
• 120-foot truesight
• Resistance to turn undead
• The Paralyzing Touch attack

Plus, they're undead - no need to eat, sleep, drink, etc. They can go live in space! If they cast gentle repose on themselves regularly, they don't even have to get all grey and old and ugly and nasty. They will, uh, probably go insane, though, and become Evil.

Unfortunately, 5e's designers do not want the player characters to become liches, it seems, which is really unfortunate - just one of those things they don't give the DM rules for because they want people to "have fun" figuring it out on their own, or whatever. Luckily, AD&D is the encyclopedia of D&D! From 2e:

In order to become a lich, the wizard must prepare its phylactery by the use of the enchant an item, magic jar, permanency, and reincarnation spells. The phylactery, which can be almost any manner of object, must be of the finest craftsmanship and materials with a value of not less than 1,500 gold pieces per level of the wizard. Once this object is created, the would-be lich must craft a potion of extreme toxicity, which is then enchanted with the following spells: wraithform, permanency, cone of cold, feign death, and animate dead. When next the moon is full, the potion is imbibed. Rather than death, the potion causes the wizard to undergo a transformation into its new state. A system shock survival throw is required, with failure indicating an error in the creation of the potion which kills the wizard and renders him forever dead.

When one of the players in my 5e game wanted their character to become a lich, I imported these rules almost exactly (changing some of the spells that don't exist in 5e like enchant an item to magic weapon, wraithform to etherealness, and getting rid of permanency - which should exist in 5e, but that's a topic for another time). Since a would-be lich needs to be able to cast 9th-level spells, the phylactery has to be worth at least about 25,000 gold. Since crafting in 5e is done in 50 gold piece increments per week, it takes something like 10 years to create a suitable phylactery. Luckily, multiple people can work on a single item to reduce the time.

The player character went about creating a sycophantic cult and infiltrating the necessary artisan's guild so that they had a roster of fanatically loyal artisans. Other cultists began robbing the homes of the nobility to finance the project, and got into a turf war with a gang of wererats, who were a threat to meddle in the character's machinations. 

Over something like a year and a half of real-world time, the player character gradually sunk money into the phylactery's construction. They also had to build an alchemical laboratory in order to brew the transformation potion, but the cost of this was relatively inconsequential. 

Finally, when the phylactery and potion were ready and the moon was full, they drank the potion in the secret vaults beneath the cult's hideout. They needed to pass a DC 30 Constitution saving throw to survive. Anticipating this, they had recruited a number of NPC spellcasters and other allies to give them as good a chance as possible. One of the most tense moments of the three-year campaign came when the player rolled the die...

They succeeded! Their character was now a lich, and they had worked for it and earned it in the fiction. It's one of my favorite moments as a DM.

Then, the player asked how they might go about acquiring the legendary, soul-eating sword, Blackrazor, and how they might create a new spell, like magic jar or soul cage, which could trap the soul of a creature slain by Blackrazor inside of an enchanted gem affixed to the sword, which would then send the soul directly to their phylactery for feeding. So, I got to figuring out how that might work, and how the player could make it a reality.

Gotta love necromancers!

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.