D&D 5e: Players Rule (or: Players' Rules), Part 1

Discussing all of the rules from the players' perspective is still an overly broad subject, so I'll focus on just a few aspects that seem to be important to players: experience gain, leveling up, combat, noncombat abilities, and spellcasting.

Experience Gain:
In my limited experience with players in their first four levels of play, it seems like the old model of "13 encounters per level from 1 to 20" is gone, probably for the better. Level one went by in a few brief encounters, and level two went by similarly quickly. The game is absolutely designed to give you a quick amp up from one to three (and a case could be made that it goes to four).

5e makes an even greater push than before to expect "milestone" experience rather than per monster experience, though the "per monster" xp is still in full and clear effect.

What I like about this melding of the two--making each method believable and natural--is that it allows the DM to use each one interchangeably. From personal experience I can say that when awarding experience to my players in 5e I have been able to swap from per monster to milestoning without the players feeling like I'm giving xp by DM fiat. I count that as a tremendous boon.

Leveling Up:
One of the awesome advantages of the first few levels being "quick gain" levels is that it allows 8 of the 12 (Clerics, Druids, Sorcerers, Warlocks, and Wizards being the exceptions) to wait until third level to establish their core principles, archetypes, and class features. It's telling, I think, that it's the primary spellcasting classes who have to choose who they will become later, earlier. Wizards choose their Arcane Tradition at second level (giving them some time to acclimate to what kind of spells their campaign/party/adventures will require), and Druids similarly get to wait until second level to choose which Druidic Circle they will associate with (providing that same acclimation time to allow them to discover what environments or lack-thereof they'll need to function in).

Only Clerics, Sorcerers, and Warlocks really have to know what they're doing right out of the gate.

Clerics need to choose their domain--that eternal link to their deity/patron/cause--when taking that first level of Cleric, and their advancement (more so than any other character class) is determined by that domain's features. The only positive for these deterministic characters is that there are more domain options (read: archetypes) than there are archetype options for any other character except the Wizard (whose magic schools create a staggering eight options). Of course, Clerics do have the largest breadth of divine magic to choose from, and have access to this copious list whenever they prepare new spells. So there's always that.

Sorcerers are limited in that they need to choose their Sorcerous Origin at first level; this, at least, makes sense story-wise. (I can make a great argument for Clerics waiting until third level to choose a domain; a Sorcerer should probably choose an origin as soon as her magic manifests.) At least Sorcerers get some flexibility in their spell choices and (as they progress in levels) in their Metamagic abilities. These allow for additional choices that have both combat and non-combat impact on the character as she progresses.

Warlocks' choice of Pact Boon is delayed, but they do need to (like a Cleric) determine their initial, eternal, contractual link to a Patron. Because of its absence from third edition, my understanding of Warlocks is not as well developed as that of the other classes, but it does seem like Warlocks are necessarily choosing early in the same vein as the Cleric. From a rules perspective, I like that they delayed the choice of the Pact Boon so that there is some versatility for this strangely versatile caster.

Back to the matter at hand: these first three to four levels give players a chance to acclimate to their heroes before being forced to make major choices about the entire arc of the character. I believe there's a conscious design choice here: if you're going to play a "special spellcaster" (Cleric, Sorcerer, Warlock) then you had better know where you're headed and what you're getting yourself into right from the get-go. If you're a fancy-pants spellcaster (Wizards and Druids) you have to make a choice earlier than most. (Yes, I know I've drawn an artificial line between "special" and "fancy-pants"--just bear with me.) However, if you're a "melee" or "non-spellcaster" you get a full three levels before you have to commit to something: the Paladin gets time to consider his oaths, the Monk her tradition, the Rogue her archetype.

Spellcasters have always been able to differentiate themselves by preparing or wielding different spells than other spellcasters of the same type. No two wizards ever played the same. But, in previous versions, a level 5 fighter would probably look very much the same as another level 5 fighter. Perhaps more accurately, a level 7 Paladin would be almost identical in features to any other level 7 Paladin. We might claim that a Rogue could distinguish herself by having a different set of skills to back up that Sneak Attack, but we all know there are certain skills that a Rogue had to invest in, and that if she weren't investing in those, she may as well be another class entirely. 5e strays from this; it not only provides these non-spellcasting characters with some divergence and individuality, but it gives the players time to articulate just what that individuality looks like.

At my own table, this turned out very differently than I expected--and I think it's largely due to the time provided by this new game structure to let players get comfortable with their characters.

• One of my players agreed, right off the bat, to play the Cleric; this was not necessarily his first choice, but he understood the necessity of a healer and was willing to throw everything he had at it. He took the Life domain at first level (as the Basic Rules gave him).
• Another player rolled a Wizard. Though they played a she-elf who was devoted to Oghma (basically taking one of the pre-gen backgrounds for the Lost Mine of Phandelver Wizard), they leveled her into the Evoker archetype: divining might make sense for her deity and background, but she was a fiery--even impudent--elf. The player took the "lack of social graces" and combined it with a dangerous curiosity to justify (well!) a knowledge-loving maidenly elven evoker.
• My third player chose a Rogue--a role she'd played before, but not with a "real" back story or motivation. (5e helped in this regard too; having a real back story for her character allowed her elven Rogue to move well beyond "moody outsider" into a fully-fledged paper-person by the second encounter--more about this later.) I would have bet money that the Rogue would have chosen the Thief archetype; the abilities are stellar for general rakish talents like breaking in, escaping, and being mobile. I would have lost that bet. By the time the characters had hit third level, the Rogue had developed a taste for blood and grudges; though Good in alignment, she was rightfully paranoid about enemies in her past. On a meta-level, the player recognized that for an average combat, she was the strongest damage dealer in the party. She took the Assassin archetype and hasn't looked back.
• My final player has always rolled Paladins. Always. This campaign is no exception. Not having to be Lawful Good with an honor code that is supremely rigid right from the get-go was a great benefit. Though he's always been able to tread the line, he usually had to lean over it right from the start in order to accomplish the party's goals. Giving him those few levels to consider how it might play out meant that the player toyed with the idea of being a darker, avenging Paladin. In the end, both for story reasons and for more meta'd reasons, he chose the "standard" Oath of the Devotion.

To have two of my four players choose vastly different options than appeared likely at first level tells me that the new system is working as intended--maybe even better than intended.

The only negative points my players have noticed (and I agree) is that there's no clear "what do I do next?" when leveling up. By next session, I hope to have a cheat-sheet I can share with them. In third edition, I had the page memorized for "Steps in Leveling Up" because it came up so often; there were so many complicated steps, and the order of operations mattered. 5e's strength is that the steps you take are fewer; the negative is there isn't much guidance as to how to take them.

My proposed list (right now) looks like this:

1. Increase your class level in the class you are leveling up. (e.g. Barbarian 3 to Barbarian 4)
2. Check the appropriate class chart to see what changes about your character. (Note: If you are a multiclass character, your instructions diverge at this point.)
1. Does your proficiency bonus increase?
2. Does an old class (or race) feature improve?
3. Do you gain a new class feature? Ability Score Improvement/Feat?
3. Roll new hit points.
4. Record new spellcasting information (new spells slots per day, new spells known, etc.)

Since my players have yet to ascend to the heights of the "journeyman" adventurer (and beyond!) my observations may be necessarily limited, but I have a feeling that the game design, with its bounded accuracy and number-of-monster-scaled encounters, will hold true to these initial observations.

 I'll investigate combat, non-combat, and spellcasting abilities in another post.

D&D 5e: The Art Style

Disclaimers: My artistic sensibilities are not professional, so apologies to "real artists" who can discuss this subject with far more precision! Also, I am basing most of this discussion on the Player's Handbook (and other source books used by players) in each edition: your average player doesn't use/see a DMG or a MM, and so I'm staying somewhat away from them as indicative of the art style for the edition.

With that disclaimer out of the way, I do feel that the art direction in 5e is certainly distinct from that of previous editions.

Third edition's bright, vibrant illustrations were high contrast, overlaid with dark, dark tones and highlighted with bright, white highlights. Fourth edition discarded the grit, and replaced it with cartoony, comic-book style, over the top proportions and unified color schemes. Fifth edition retains the color palette of Fourth (though it does tone it down somewhat; earth-tones replace neon vibrancy). Rather than gritty, high-contrast Third edition artwork, Fifth softens the hard edges and blurs the lines. Even the "parchment" style of the page fills is much softer than the earlier two editions.

I am in favor of this shift in art style for the most part in that it is something novel that continues to advance the genre's flavor (a combination rather than a renouncement). What I dislike are the same things that most people seem to be head-scratching over: font, flatness, and indexes (I won't worry about indexes here.).

The font choice, while incredibly legible, is tiny. On the one hand, this makes the book appear to have a vastly increased amount of information from previous versions: they're still hefty tomes, but with smaller fonts there should be more information per page, right? Maybe not. I think the designers made more use of margins and splashes to add art and design to more of the text-pages, ultimately leaving us with the same amount of information in a slightly less easy-to-read font-size. The overall effect is beautiful, but not as practical.

As for the artwork itself, the sophistication level is high, the resolution sound, and the pages glossy. The overall effect (ironically?) serves to flatten the artwork onto the page, rather than make it pop out, off the page. Third and Fourth source books were both designed in a way that made it appear the artwork (particularly partial splashes) were leaping off the page, interrupting the flow of the document and drawing your eye. The new artwork is still eye-catching (truly!), but the new artwork appears behind rather than in front of the text. The text is the center-piece, and the artwork takes a backseat.

I have to wonder if the layout directors thought this "Text-Pop" method would make up for making the font smaller? Smaller font leads to more room for artwork, so the artwork takes a backseat to spotlight the smaller text...

I guess anything's possible?

In the end, I fall back on the metaphor I used in my last post. The source books themselves feel like a travelogue of an aging hobbit. Soft, sketchy artwork, beautifully--even carefully--rendered, with clear, articulate descriptions accompanying the artwork. Even the tone of the text (if I can include that in this discussion of its art value) is closer in tone to one friend talking to another in an intimate letter.

Illustrations are mostly "realistic"--in proportion, realistically colored, and portrayed in naturalistic lighting. They are, however, also impressionistic in the way the colors and lines are occasionally blurred. A person's face may be in full, sharp clarity, while that person's hands and feet may be blurred so that the digits are soft and indistinct. The effect is that of an observer who paid attention to certain details but left others to the imagination--capturing the important or essential qualities of the creature, person, locale, or artifact while ignoring, or at least setting aside, the rest. This is a big change from Fourth (where the cartoony art style meant that all things were "in focus") and from Third (where all things were in gritty, unrealistically clear focus, or else were supernaturally shadowy).

Conclusion? Fifth's art is not as ostensibly "memorable" as the other editions, but--like a good bass line in your favorite song--I think its art is just as recognizable, and maybe necessary. Without the art, the edition would fall flat; with it, there is a distinct flavor to each of the source books that should be maintainable and variable to create new and exciting visual content to accompany supplemental material.

For those of you without a physical copy of any Fifth Edition materials, I would point you toward the Third Edition's Forgotten Realms Campaign Setting as a good analogue for the Fifth Edition feel. Smaller fonts, heavy "parchment paper" backgrounds, and soft, masterfully done images.

I can't wait to see how the Dungeon Master's Guide utilizes this kind of art, and I very much look forward to seeing how a new 5e Forgotten Realms Campaign Setting manages to deal with the long shadow cast by its Third Edition predecessor!

D&D 5e: The Emotional Tenor

As a D&D player for the last 15 years or so, my experience is primarily with 3e and higher, though those years have been long enough in the hobby for me to have read some other source books and materials and to have been infected with some of the sentimentality and emotion that many who started playing "from the beginning" have.

When I look at 5e, I brim with optimism. I'd like to think about the overall mood (which I'm discussing below), the art style, the rules (from the players' perspective), the structure (rules from the DM's perspective), and the meta game (what direction is Wizards coming from this time?).

So, on to the feel:
If I had to pick an author or director whose work resonates with fifth edition, I would be hard pressed. I have to recognize that some of my feelings on edition-feeling is idiosyncratic, but it also has to do with the official settings of each edition. In other words, each edition has its own version of the "Hokey Pokey"--what each edition is "all about," how each edition tells its story.

Everything in fourth edition felt like a video game. At its best, it felt like Skyrim. At its worst, it felt something more like professional wrestling. I agree with the critics who claim that 4e is combat-centric in that there are far fewer rules/abilities that are used outside of combat. (For the record, I acknowledge the proponents of 4e's role playing as superior because of the lack of rules/abilities limiting that kind of play, but I happen to like structure.) Fourth edition was all about the fight.

Third edition's emotional tenor is closer to the various TV shows of Justice League or an Indiana Jones movie. Having Greyhawk, Forgotten Realms, and Eberron as core settings lent a flavor of high fantasy and exploration to the atmosphere of the games. Granted, it was often an expedition to either slay a particularly weird creature or a mission to discover a particularly cool artifact, but it was still about the journey rather than the fight.

Fifth edition seems to be a return to this exploration gameplay, but with a slight new emphasis. 3e seemed very focused on the grit required for adventuring. Dark and light were extremes that were reflected in alignments, creatures, and environs. Fourth had a dazzling veneer of brightness, but it was the veneer of a professional sports team rushing out to the field. Fifth has taken the brightness of fourth and softened it to a halo, and taken the extremes of dark and light from third and transmuted them into a variety of color rather than black/white.

Third's source books felt like an ancient grimoire that had been updated by H.G. Wells. Fourth's source books felt like a video game instruction manual from the nineties that had been embellished beautifully by comic-book-turned-graphic-novel artists. Fifth's source books--so far--feel like a wise old hobbit's travelogue.

It's not quite as flashy as fourth edition, nor as binary as third edition. It doesn't have the gritty realism that third espoused, and it doesn't have the "everyone's equal" feel of fourth. What it does have is a focus on how the story is going to be told, and how important it is that someone tells it.

It's the difference between a Star Trek movie, and one of the official novels.

It's the difference between Sean Connery's interpretation of James Bond, and the new Daniel Craig version.

It's the difference between all of the standard live-action versions of A Christmas Carol and the Muppet version.

The number one difference, I feel, in fifth edition, is that it feels deep: deep, wide, and unified, like a human personality. Fifth edition is all about the characters.

I look forward to plumbing these depths further.