D&D 5e: Out of the Abyss (Part 2 of 2)

Playing in a campaign while running a campaign (and alternating which campaign we play) definitely extended how many sessions--and thus how long--it took to play through the second half of Out of the Abyss.

By my reckoning, we've played through a total of 25 sessions, total, for Out of the Abyss. Each of those sessions ran for an average of three hours, meaning that the full book yielded roughly 75 hours of play time for players and probably another 120-150 hours of prep time to run it. On the whole, that's a pretty good deal even if you paid full price for the book--less than a dollar an hour for your entertainment.

As always, please be mindful that while I try to keep spoilers to a minimum, this discusses the end of 75 hours of game time and the epic conclusion of the campaign: 

HERE THERE BE SPOILERS. You have been warned.

As with the Tyranny of Dragons' storyline, and perhaps even more so, I get the feeling from the online D&D community that most groups don't finish the overarching campaigns they start. In fact, the Wizards team seems to have done research on this point, as Out of the Abyss is one of only three adventure modules that is designed explicitly beyond 11th level!

I'm going to refer back to what I liked and disliked about this module from my Part 1 post; feel free to check back if you need a refresher.

I have to admit, I had almost all of this post written by the time we reached the second-to-last session. Had I posted only what I originally wrote, I'd be doing a terrible disservice to my gaming group because my impressions from them as they experienced the campaign were almost exactly the opposite of  what they expressed as the campaign ended.

Original Pro: New and Different. 

 As my players' characters advanced in levels, most of them experienced what I believe should be considered  roleplayers' fatigue; on the one hand they wanted to be faithful to their characters as they envisioned them. On the other hand, they were trying something that was either extremely alien, or tremendously different from their normal characters in one key point. For example, our usual rogue played a paladin, and our usual paladin played a barbarian; in each case, I felt like by the second half of the campaign they were straining to make the "best" choices for their characters and were not enjoying it as much as they might have otherwise. In the end, three of my four players reported that while there was some strain, but really only one (my paladin-turned-barbarian) was "capped out." In fact, my rogue-turned-paladin felt like she was just coming into her own as a paladin, figuring out how to maximize her experience, when the campaign came to an end.

My original conception was that the second-half would become a sort of palate cleanser--an experience that will be enjoyed more in retrospect, and which will allow future experiences to be received with greater joy. As it turned out, I was just a bit off. One of my players described Out of the Abyss as a roller-coaster ride: while you're on it, you're screaming and wanting to get off, but the second it's over, you take stock of the situation, smile from ear to ear, and get in line for the next one!

On the DM's side of things, it's been exciting seeing how my slightly-less-than-heroic party deals with problems. One of the fun aspects of their characters has been the slow transformation from vagabonds and exiles into heroes. This has placed some exceptionally quirky moral quandaries in front of them, and their answers were interesting: do we trust an evil wizard to get rid of evil demons? (Yes.) Is it morally just to use the demons to destroy an evil city? (Maybe, but ultimately, we'll not test it.) Most drow are evil; are people who don't accept the party because they have drow in it our enemies? (Depends.)

These are definitely questions that don't normally come up, and I've had fun being on the other side of the screen while these are discussed.

Original Pro: Fear and the Bizarre.

Gravenhollow

Not knowing how things work in the Underdark continues to make for some very cool interactions between PCs and locales. Gravenhollow was a definite highlight, as was my own invention of The Vault of Eternity. (In all honesty, I had hoped this would be one of their peak experiences for the campaign, but I think the most interesting thing to come out of the dungeon for my players was the loot they recovered; its backstories and names were exciting and drew my players in. EDIT: My players, upon reading this post, chastised me; when I asked them about Out of the Abyss, they thought I meant exclusively the "as written" content. When they realized I meant the campaign "as run," they all put Vault at the top of their lists!)  The Tower of Araj, the break-in to Sorcere--all of these were fun for the very reason that they were new and exciting. I suspect that if any of my players had drunk deeply of R.A. Salvatore's writing in recent years, they'd have been enjoying it even more, but as it stood they all had a sense that these were "real" places they were breaking into, exploring, or sharing tea in. It's been almost twenty years since I read Salvatore's early works, but the echoes of them in my memory still helped me set the mood without getting lost in the details.

The centerpiece of this second act, for me, had to be the Maze Engine. Gathering the pieces for Vizeran's ritual was interesting, but it would have been just another fetch quest without running into the modrons. My players wanted to adopt them (I think they seriously considered running an Underdark petting zoo with Glabagool, Stool, and the modrons...). Helping them get back to the Engine itself, and then participating in the weirdness that ensued was perfect for Out of the Abyss. It's one of those encounters that will forever be linked with playing through the campaign.

The fear component of the first half may have dropped off, but the bizarre continued unabated.

Original Pro: More Common Magic Items.

The second half was somewhat stingy on treasure (I mean, come on: kill several demon lords and get squat for treasure?), but I more than made up for that with The Vault of Eternity. That's not to say there weren't any magic items, but the items were common (generic), or else served a specific purpose (rather than just being "fun loot").

For me, this is a failing in the second half. Because my players had The Vault, I don't think they were as aware of how little loot there really was in their return to the Underdark.

Original Pro: Fun NPCs.

Vizeran DeVir

Finally moving away from the jail-break NPCs was a definite blessing; they were "used up."The they're not. The PCs are constantly having to intervene to save them from run-of-the-mill Underdark threats, and finding ways to explain their presence (or absence) became tedious. My players, frankly, didn't know what to do with them. Neither did I. If I was going to run this campaign again, I'd leave them out entirely and just add in a few magic items or NPC guides to replace them.
biggest problem with second-half NPCs is the Expeditionary Force. I understand in theory that they're supposed to be an army to deal with the demon threat, but

The librarians in Gravenhollow, the archwizard Vizeran, and the opportunity to meet Jarlaxle were all appreciated. The reappearance of Basidia (and Stool) was a welcome tie-in to help the second half of the adventure connect to the first without re-living everything.

Original Con: Repetitive.

Because the faerzress was designed to hinder teleportation, the issue of travel from one place to another continues to be dangerously tedious if following the rules as written. I dropped or modified a lot of encounters to prevent having to run an additional several sessions of wandering monster encounters which were unimpressive, unchallenging, and ultimately boring. This is definitely still an issue in the second half, though I was better prepared to deal with it since I was expecting it. (Again, having a dungeon crawl in the middle helped break up the monotony.)

Original Con: Asymmetry.

Though less sand-boxy in the second half (there's a prescribed list of ingredients and the only issue is where to start looking), there was still some unhelpful asymmetry particularly in the travel encounters. The problem was still with the lower end encounters. Designing a new dungeon, tweaking "random" encounters to include more powerful enemies, and streamlining travel all helped somewhat to deal with this.

Original Con: Tedious NPCs.

See above, but it bears repeating briefly: What is the point of the Expeditionary Force? They're woefully underequipped, underpowered, and undermanned to deal with the basic threats of the Underdark, let alone the threat of demon lords!

Original Con: Underdark Parties Not Welcome.

This one still bothers me. Almost all of the issues of infiltration and trust evaporate when you have two drow in the party. The bottom line is this: either the party can be outsiders (surface dwellers who are aliens to the Underdark) or they can try something different (be Underdark dwellers who fit in). The overall effect is thereby diluted when the players understandably try to run Underdark outcasts. If I were to run this adventure again, I think I might ban Underdark races!

Overall:

The cities shine brightest in the first half, while Gravenhollow, the Maze Engine, infiltrating Menzoberranzan, and the final two fights shine brightest in the second. (My players completed an absolutely flawless infiltration of the Purple Worm Hatchery, meaning they never even had to fight a Worm--as such the encounter itself became forgettable). Being able to bring my friends to the depths and show them Menzoberranzan (and the other Underdark cities) was fun. As in the first half, the characters they encountered there were interesting, even fascinating. As they explored the depths, the slow accumulation of stories (madness! destruction!) had a wonderful slow fuse that allowed us all to savor it; in the second half, that fuse illuminated "the bomb" of the demon lords and Gromph's failed ritual, allowing the PCs to see how to deal with it. (My players are always happier with a clear goal--in this case, Vizeran's ritual.)

Two of my four players unequivocally preferred this campaign to Tyranny of Dragons, one speculated that she would have enjoyed it more than Tyranny if she'd figured out "how to play" her character sooner, and only one of my players definitely enjoyed Tyranny more.


Bottom line? Both halves are good--at times, even great--but it may be best as a palate cleanser when you need to give your players a real "reset" from traditional adventuring. It never quite got stale, but I'm definitely ready to leave this one behind and go back to something more traditional! EDIT: If you listen to my players, you really need to run The Vault of Eternity to get the most bang for your buck from Out of the Abyss.

D&D 5e: Out of the Abyss (Part 1 of 2)

It's taken a long time for my group to play through the first half of Out of the Abyss: it's been almost a year!

Unfortunately, I don't have much more to add (that isn't already out there), but here are my thoughts.

Pros:

1. New and Different: The entirely alien feel of the Underdark allowed most of my players (who usually play largely conventional races) to try out being traditional outcasts. Instead of a mostly "traditional" race group with a single outlier, it's the opposite: one surface dwarf amongst two drow and a deep gnome!
2. Fear and the Bizarre: Not knowing how things work in the Underdark made for some very cool interactions between PCs and locales. They were constantly asking who they could trust and where they should go next!
3. More Common Magic Items: I don't know how it compares to Curse of Strahd or Storm King's Thunder in terms of the commonality or abundance of magic items, but in terms of Tyranny of Dragons and (to a beginner's view) Princes of the Apocalypse, magic items are much more plentiful and much less likely to "break" the game.
4. Fun NPCs: The always-different and always-curious stories of the jail-break NPCs (and the wacky characters the PCs met along the way) are exciting, fresh, and engaging. While it was a pain to control a whole extra party worth of characters, there were ways to keep combat from dragging. Glabagool stole the show.

Cons:

1. Repetitive: For how wild and crazy the Underdark can get, the issue of travel from one place to another quickly becomes tedious if following the rules as written. Once the characters were strong enough to muster their own resources, we had to drop keeping track of supplies before that consumed the vast majority of our sessions.
2. Asymmetry: Because of the sandboxy nature of the module, threats were not evenly spaced or scaled. On the one hand, I want to applaud this! The fact that the PCs are having to worry about the potentially deadly encounters they might face is excellent. The problem was with the lower end encounters. As the party made its way into each new city, they were blowing through many of the encounters. This meant I had a choice: narrate the fights or let my party spend a half an hour cautiously figuring out how to beat them. As a result, I feel like they're getting too comfortable--that only "big" fights are actually going to play out. As a result, they feel like they can expend all their abilities on the fights that "actually happen." I'm still trying to figure out how to tweak this for the second half.
3. Tedious NPCs: The jailbreak NPCs were clever and fresh--but also cumbersome. Even though I handed off combat control of most of the NPCs to the players, it was a problem to have to consistently roleplay them while still giving PCs pride of place. Often, I felt as though their traveling companions were either helpless or overbearing--as their personalities dictated--and so it became a game of "is there a reason these NPCs can stay behind?" 
4. Underdark Parties Not Welcome: Though this was billed as a chance for characters to "try something different" and be from an Underdark race, most of the adventure is written from the perspective of a party of surface races. As a result, a lot of the really fun read-aloud text was just plain boring. Similarly, many characters had entirely unscripted reactions to the party (i.e. the "script" calls for them to hate a party with elves in it--or humans, or gnomes, or whatever--but there aren't any in the party.)

Overall:

 The cities shine brightest. Being able to bring my friends to the depths and show them Blingdenstone, Neverlight Grove, and Gracklstugh was awesome. The characters they encountered there were interesting, even fascinating. As usual, the interactions faded fastest into the background, but never faded entirely. As they explored the depths, the slow accumulation of stories (madness! destruction!) had a wonderful slow fuse that allowed us all to savor it.

Bottom line? It's good, but it's not great. We'll see how the second half goes.

D&D 5e: What DMs Can Learn from Adventure Time (Part 2)

Continuing the investigation and discussion begun in "What DMs Can Learn from Adventure Time (Part 1)," I happily present the second half: Part 2!

Here are our five new bits of wisdom:

Adventure Time...

1. Lets us view the setting (the Land of Ooo) through the eyes of a human, but consistently shows us sentient races which are both inhuman (crazy candy people! sentient fire!) and humane (compassionate, feeling, loving, friendship-seeking creatures).
2. Is brief and episodic, but often ties episodes together into a longer story or campaign.
3. Admits real consequences for the actions of the adventurers, but never lets those actions end the story. 
4. Has characters grow in experience and power; they possess unusual or even unique abilities. 
5. Accepts that characters have a home base from which most of their adventuring is launched.

1. Lets us view the setting through the eyes of a human, but consistently shows us sentient races which are both inhuman and humane.

As DMs, it's important to balance the magical and the mundane. It's also important to balance the human and the humane from the totally alien and inhumane. A campaign where every nonhuman is completely inscrutable ends up looking like an Alien vs. Predator remix at best, and an ant farm at worst. Non-humans and particularly the wildly different non-humans (non-playable races who are sentient) need to be a mixed bag.

An insane, inscrutable, unfathomable Kuo-Toa fishing group might save the adventurers from a drow war band and provide them with food and shelter. A myconid colony might see the adventurers as a mono-minded disease which has to be eradicated to protect the sprouts of the colony. A lone Thri-keen explorer may fall in with the party for safety, but become so frustrated by their lack of order and organization that it leaves them for a route which promises certain death.

What do all of these examples have in common? They each offer opportunities for the party to be
human (and humane) to creatures who are not.

Some of the coolest interactions in Adventure Time happen as Finn (or, to a lesser extent, Jake) tries to be a hero--compassionate and humane--and finds that his own paradigm might be flawed for the species or culture which he is trying to help. Ultimately, Finn either has to gamble that his morality is universal (often) or that his choices were made based on culture rather than morality, and therefore he needs to adjust (sometimes). These are the interesting situations players should find their players in!

Characters need to be put in situations where their own way of doing things is not universally accepted--and occasionally, in which their own version of the "right" thing might be questionable.

2. Is brief and episodic, but often ties episodes together into a longer story or campaign. 

In 11 minutes, Adventure Time tells elaborate, thoughtful, and complete stories. They introduce characters, provide setbacks, reach an emotional climax, and resolve. Sometimes, they take a whole 22 minutes to tell these stories, and without the audience ever really noticing they unveil a plot over the course of many separate, disparate stories. Think of any of your favorite story-lines from Adventure Time (the redemption of the Ice King, Finn's love life, the history of the Candy Kingdom) and you see that while the plot you're thinking of comes into focus for an episode or two, it just as quickly fades into the background, not to be seen or thought of for several more episodes (or seasons!).

So how do we replicate this complicated weaving of adventures into campaigns, where every adventure doesn't have to focus on the same thing?

Freud is attributed with the saying that "sometimes a cigar is just a cigar." In other words, sometimes a dungeon is just a dungeon, that wandering monster is just another way of earning experience, and the weird peddler with the third eye is just a curiosity. On the other hand...

To a certain extent, Finn and Jake's adventures are consistently flirting with 21st century irony: we're never supposed to know if the ominous skeletal beggar is really evil, or if he's just a natural feature of his environment. (On the other hand, flim-flammers like the King of Ooo are almost always to be distrusted.) The bottom line is that the world is endlessly complicated, and sometimes our heroes simply cannot follow the thread of a "campaign" continuously. They hit dead ends, they get distracted by other forces or problems, and they run out of ideas.

Try to keep "adventures" brief, ideally wrapping them up after a session or two. Similarly, it's okay to have interludes in campaigns. Many loose threads can be fun--as long as the players don't feel like all of them have to be undertaken (or even can be undertaken) immediately or simultaneously.

3. Admits real consequences for the actions of the adventurers, but never lets those actions end the story.

Many forms of entertainment follow the advice of Philip J. Fry: "It [is] just a matter of knowing the secret of all TV shows: at the end of the episode, everything's always right back to normal."

Adventure Time doesn't allow this to be the case; DMs cannot allow this to be the case either. The exploits of Finn and Jake are not temporary and entertaining interchangeable jaunts, they are moments of development both for the characters and the world they inhabit. This isn't to say that some adventures cannot have a goal of getting things "back to how they were," but it should never be a complete success.

For example, one of the earliest episodes introduces Marceline the Vampire Queen as the original (or at least prior) owner of Finn and Jake's tree-house. The entire episode is spent trying to get comfortable outside the tree-house or to take it back from Marceline. While they do eventually get their tree-house back, everything has changed: Marceline is now (for better or worse!) a part of their lives; their carefree sense that their world has always been "the way it is now" has been shattered; and they have been beaten (physically, anyway) by a force stronger than themselves--but spared. Not bad for 11 minutes of animation!

As DMs, it's our job to make sure that even when we introduce something that seems overwhelming (like Marceline) the way the PCs interact with this new force has real and lasting consequences--even if they are able to solve whatever initial problem the force has created in their adventure. This not only provides fuel for future adventures, but it reminds PCs that their actions have both merit and impact.

PCs' actions need to have consequences in the campaign world--even when their actions are reactions, or when the consequences are unintended or even unforeseen.

4. Has characters grow in experience and power; they possess unusual or even unique abilities. 

This one may seem like a no-brainer, but it bears repeating: In the fifth edition of D&D, player characters are extraordinary individuals. Average people do not have "levels" of anything--let alone levels of an adventuring class! 

When Finn and Jake are helping out average people (whether those people are humans or not!) they are consistently revealing how different they are from those people. Finn grows in wisdom, swordsmanship, and (as time goes on) deepness of voice. Jake is a unique, stretchy dog to begin with, but also grows as Finn does. They each learn from their parents, from their friends, from encounters with enemies, and from their experiences. Finn's various blades and Jake's use (or lack of use) of various weapons and implements change over time.

PCs need more than just new stuff; new items, new powers, and new heights of abilities need to be revealed and noticed by others in the campaign world. Give PCs a chance to try out the abilities and powers they're most excited about, but also try to give them opportunities to show off things they can do, but may not have thought about before.

 5. Accepts that characters have a home base from which most of their adventuring is launched.

The tree-house is a textbook base of operations: it's cool looking, centrally located, easily defensible but not impregnable, has room for all of their gathered loot and armaments, and serves as a cozy home for Finn and Jake when they're not out adventuring. Perhaps best of all, they took it over rather than built it themselves, so they don't know everything about it. Sometimes they leave the tree-house to seek out adventure, other times adventure seeks them out at the tree-house.

Any time adventurers can take an abandoned fort, temple, or ruin and turn it into a new base of operations, the same effects can be had. There's nothing wrong with building something new, but try to encourage the players to build it atop an ancient ruin or near an older construction. This more easily allows adventure to find them.

Having adventures start at a base of operations allows PCs to also have a place to store their
thousands of unmanageable copper coins, to keep their extra blades and arrows, and even gives them an excuse to interact with NPCs. (After all, BMO and NEPTR often watch over the place while Finn and Jake are away!) Having a home base gives PCs a location to work on their downtime activities (running a business, forging a sword, scribing a scroll, researching a distant location, etc.).

Whenever possible, provide a home base for PCs which is wholly their own but not entirely of their own making; allow it to be both a place which is thought of fondly and about which not everything is known. PCs should expect to both seek out adventures from their safe haven and have adventures come to them!

I hope you've enjoyed considering how your campaigns and D&D experiences might take their cues from Adventure Time! I know I have a long way to go to make all of these ideas realities in my own games, but I truly believe players will enjoy the game more thanks to these ideas. Let me know in the comments what you think about these ideas--maybe I missed a key crossover that should be covered in a future post, or there should be a revision of one of my existing ideas? As always, thanks for reading, and happy gaming!

D&D 5e: What DMs Can Learn from Adventure Time (Part 1)

Adventure Time is a (young) D&D player's dream: an adolescent inhabits a world of magic, technology, and candy which is at once both sinister and sincere. Adventure Time offers a few things which I think are, if not unique, certainly special. Let's first examine what Adventure Time has in common with D&D (or other RPGs). There are other television shows and books that could entice us, but Adventure Time:

1. Centers around the exploits of a small band of adventurers.
2. Is story-driven, while remaining character-focused.
3. Reveals a world in which magic plays a substantial part, but which is still shockingly similar to the world in which we live.
4. Has rules and laws which govern its physics, which are playfully loose compared to the "real world."

So how does any of this help me as a player or a DM?

Let's look a bit closer at how the show appeals to us.

 1. Centers around the exploits of a small band of adventurers.

 Finn and Jake are (step?) brothers. They didn't meet at at a tavern, and they didn't decide to "hook up" to slay a goblin raiding party. Finn and Jake have an inherent connection that they don't question. As the story moves on, we find out more and more about their family dynamic (Joshua the Warlock?), but the key here is that the characters backgrounds are both set in stone and dynamic. They have a reason to work together, but that doesn't mean it's boring or uninteresting.

Adventurers don't need to be randomly thrown together; the most interesting characters have a connection right from the start.

2. Is story-driven, while remaining character-focused.

This may sound like a "duh" statement in today's character-driven landscape, but it still bears a brief comparison to some of the best 20th century literature from which the fantasy genre grows. Consider The Hobbit as the prime adventure story of the last hundred years: a character is driven from the familiar to the unfamiliar, meets a cast of unlikely but heroic characters, encounters magic, and eventually triumphs over both himself and his surroundings, returning home a changed individual.

Now think about it again: outside of Bilbo, and (on his deathbed) Thorin Oakenshield, do any of the characters truly develop through the story? I don't mean to start a Tolkien deathmatch, but of the fifteen members of Thorin and Company, only one & a half are really characters in the way we'd address them today. The fun in The Hobbit comes from seeing this gaggle of dwarves get into trouble & having Bilbo or Gandalf figure out or luck out & save them.

Adventure Time offers something different. Not only are Finn and Jake incredibly human creatures  who learn, love, and change, but the majority of the creatures and beings they encounter regularly are similarly "real." The random creature/character on the road side can be (alternately) incredibly important or nondescript and unnamed.


Perhaps most clearly, Finn's hidden past drives the story--but how he and others react to that past is what keeps him real, and keeps us invested in the story itself.

The cast of a story needs to react to the story, and the story needs to react to the cast of characters. Don't let one overpower the other.

3. Reveals a world in which magic plays a substantial part, but which is still shockingly similar to the world in which we live.

Jake is a magic, talking, stretching dog. Right from the get go, magic is taken as normal. At the same time, Finn is shockingly ordinary. At the start of the episode "Web Weirdos," Finn and Jake do some "stunts." Jake does some amazing parkour, and Finn is capable of being excited about a level of "climb and jump" which is (intentionally) laughable by comparison. This kind of contrast is necessary for the kind of wonder and awe that D&D worlds should evoke in our players (if not always our characters)!

For every fantastic dreamscape, floating castle, or kingdom of living ice, include a haggling merchant, a hungry pauper, or an angry mother-in-law. The magic must exist with the mundane or it simply becomes the new mundane.

4. Has rules and laws which govern its physics, which are playfully loose compared to the "real world."

Finn and Jake are constantly getting beaten into bloodied pulps, transformed into other creatures, shrunk, enlarged, stranded without supplies, or outright zombified. Yet, by the end of the episode, all is right with the world again (even if Finn does lose an arm in the process). Pain is a reality, but not a crippling one.

Speaking of supplies, where in the world do Finn and Jake do their grocery shopping? Outside of the occasional pie from TT and meat from "Meat Man," they don't seem to have a home garden for veggies or a local supermarket to pick up their foodstuffs (though occasionally one or the other of them will "go out" to get supplies). Do we ever question this?

Unless it's really important where the foodstuffs come from, we're much more interested in the songs Jake sings about bacon pancakes than about where he got the bacon or batter in the first place.

As one of my players recently said, we play D&D to get away from managing our day-to-day affairs. It doesn't matter where the bacon pancakes come from, or how the fighter keeps swinging even though he's been at 1hp for twenty minutes.

That's all for Part 1! Stay tuned for Part 2 where I'll look at some other important lessons from Adventure Time.

D&D 5e: Solving the Artificer Problem (Part 4)

Many months ago, I began considering the problem of how to bring an Eberron-style Artificer class to life in 5e. I continued that line of thinking into how magical item creation might function, and then considered how to deal with infusions. As stated at the end of that third article, I think it's time to consider how the class's features will look, and to consider what a basic archetype might look like.

Let's take a look at a "generic" class chart (without any archetypes):

 

So, how to flesh this out? Let's start with the simple stuff:
-----------------------------------
Class Features:
As an Artificer, you gain the following class features.

Hit Points: 
Hit Dice: 1d8 per Artificer level
Hit Points at 1st level: 8 + your Constitution modifier
Hit Points at Higher Levels: 1d8 (or 5) + your constitution modifier per artificer level after 1st.

Proficiencies: 
Armor: Light armor
Weapons: Simple weapons
Tools: Thieves tools and one other tool set of your choice

Saving Throws: Intelligence, Charisma
Skills: Choose two skills from Arcana, History, Investigation, Medicine, Nature, and Religion, then two additional skills of your choice.

Infusion Magic: 

As a tinkerer and meddler in all things magical, you have learned how to create infusions of magical power. Through a unique and idiosyncratic combination of intuition, scholarly training, and observation, you've learned to infuse ordinary objects with magical power. In many ways, this allows you to mimic spells cast by more conventional magic users.

In order to create an infusion, you need to have bound yourself to an Artificer focus. This focus can be mundane or magical, but it must be present on your person to cast infusions. Infusions work in one of two ways; if the spell has a range of touch, it must be cast onto an item/object; if the spell has a range greater than touch, it is cast into or through your focus.

You may bind yourself to a new focus during a long rest; this removes your connection to any previous focus.

Use the Wizard spell list to learn your spells from.

Cantrips:
You know two Wizard cantrips of your choice from the Wizard cantrip list. You learn additional wizard cantrips of your choice at higher levels, as shown on the Warlock Cantrips Known table.

Spell Slots:
The Warlock table shows how many spell slots you have. The table also shows what the level of those slots is; all of your slots are of the same level. To cast one of your Wizard spells of 1st level or higher, you must expend a spell slot. You regain all expended spell slots when you finish a short or long rest. Starting at 13th level, your spell slots become 6th level.


Spells Known of 1st Level and Higher
At 1st level, you know two 1st-level spells of your choice from the Wizard spell list.

The Spells Known column of the Warlock table shows when you learn more Wizard spells of your choice of 1st level and higher with one exception: starting at 13th level, your spell slots become 6th level. A spell you choose must be a of a level no higher than what's shown in the table's Slot Level column for your level.

When you reach 6th level, for example, you may learn spells of 1st, 2nd, or 3rd level.

Additionally, when you gain a level in this class, you can choose one of the wizard spells you know and replace it with another spell from the wizard spell list, which must also be for a level for which you have spell slots.

Spellcasting Ability:
Charisma is your spellcasting ability for your Artificer infusions, so you use Charisma whenever a spell refers to your spellcasting ability. In addition, you use your Charisma modifier when setting the saving throw DC for an Artificer infusion you cast and when making an attack roll with one.

Spell save DC = 8 + your proficiency bonus + your Charisma modifier

Spell attack modifier = your proficiency bonus + your Charisma modifier

Artificer Insight:
In your experience dealing with magic and magical devices, you have discovered--whether through intense study, sheer luck, or repeated experience--how to use an infusion to mimic a magical spell you have witnessed, studied, or developed that is of a spell level you can cast (as an Artificer).

Starting at 2nd level, you learn two new spells of your choice from any spell list; you will cast these as infusions. Additionally, when you gain a level in Artificer, you may choose one of your spells learned from Artificer Insight and replace it with another spell of a level you can cast (as an Artificer).

You learn an additional spell of your choice at 7th (total of 3), 12th (total of 4) and 17th (total of 5).

Magical Item Creation:
Your insight into the nature of magic and its interactions with the physical world make you uniquely suited to creating a wide variety of magical items, both permanent and temporary, even if you lack the normally associated skill set. Use of this class feature is entirely up to DM discretion.

Starting at second level, you may create Spell Scrolls for spells you know. You may similarly work with other spellcasters to create Spell Scrolls for spells that they know. You may only create Spell Scrolls for spell levels which you know (or for levels of infusions you are able to cast). An Artificer may scribe a scroll for a spell without using up the source. For example, an Artificer may duplicate a scroll in his possession, may mimic a spell from a wizard's spellbook, or may scribe a scroll from a spell known by a cooperating and ever-present spellcaster who is assisting in the preparation and crafting of the scroll.

[Assume this description is much longer, banking off of the magical item creation discussion in the previous entry. See that article for details.]

 -----------------------------------

 Not bad! We've waded through the initial crunch, but now it's time to consider the third level and (likely) the archetypes. For our purposes, I'm going to start with thinking about the three possibilities I came up with in my last post on this subject and go from there:

• the Wandloren (an implement-focused Artificer who ekes additional life and utility out of magical wands, rods, and staves to make them more potent)
• the Tinker (a true jack-of-all-trades who dabbles in many skills and magics, rivaling the bard in esoteric knowledge), 
• the Mechanist (a magical craftsman who seeks to make machines, homunculi, and other golems or golem-like creatures)
• the Magewright (an artificer who seeks to become a better spellcaster through creation/use of magical grimoires and other implements) 

If we take the Wandloren as our "standard" archetype, then perhaps it will look like this:

 -----------------------------------

Artificer Archetype:

At third level, you choose an archetype to assume in the pursuit of magical knowledge: Wandloren, Tinker, Mechanist, or Magewright. The Wandloren is detailed at the end of the class description. Your archetype choice grants you features at 3rd, 6th, 10th, and 14th.

Ability Score Improvement: 

When you reach 4th level, and again at 8th, 12th, 16th, and 19th level, you can increase one ability score of your choice by 2, or you can increase two ability scores of your choice by 1. As normal, you can't increase an ability score above 20 using this feature.

Artifice Mastery:

At 18th level, you have achieved such complete control over magic's interactions with the physical world that you have developed a few foolproof infusions which you may use at will. Choose a 1st-level Wizard spell and a 2nd-level Wizard spell that you know. You can now cast those spells as infusions at their lowest level at will without expending a spell slot. To cast either infusion at a higher level, you must expend a spell slot as normal. 

By spending 8 hours in study, you can exchange one or both of the spells you chose for different spells meeting the same criteria.

Grand Artifice:

At 20th level, your well of inspiration becomes nearly limitless. You may draw on inner reserves of magical power by spending one minute in contemplation of the problem or challenges that lie before you. Regain all of your expended spell slots from the Infusion Magic class feature. You must finish a long rest before you can do so again.

Artificer Archetypes: 

The Wandloren:

As a Wandloren, you are a versatile spellcaster whose strength lies in creating temporary magical implements and in maximizing the potential of more permanent magical devices. You've devoted your life to the study of wands, rods, and staves. Even the simplest non-magic stick can instantly become a magical implement in your expert hands, so attuned are you to the pathways that magic takes through such objects.

Tempered Baton:

At 3rd level, you have learned exactly what differentiates an ordinary bar, baton, or stick made of metal, bone, or wood (or other suitable material), from a magically treasured wand. Once per day, you may attune yourself to a non-magical bar, baton, or stick, imbuing it with one spell of your choice from those you are capable of infusing. This attunement takes a minute, but is otherwise follows standard attunement rules. Though the device you've created functions exactly as a wand, it can only be attuned to you and will only retain its magic until you take a long rest. You may use your Artificer Focus as your tempered baton.

The spell you choose cannot have a casting time of greater than one action, must have a spell level of three or lower, and cannot have a costly material component.

The tempered baton you create has 1d3+2 charges, and becomes a simple non-magical object when the final charge is expended. Many Wandlorens have a favored object which they give a pet name and imbue each day. 

Implement Extension:

At sixth level, your control over wands and other magical implements has been greatly improved, coaxing even greater magics from your chosen wands. When you create your tempered baton, your creation has 2d3+2 charges. Additionally, any other single permanent magical wand in your possession is considered to have two additional charges per day (or other period, as specified by the wand). 

Instead of a wand, you may endow a rod or staff with one additional charge.

In addition, you recognize magic wands simply by handling them; even the briefest physical touch lets you know the wand is magical. If you handle a magic wand for at least one full round, you know the spell stored inside as well as how many charges it has, when it recharges, and any other conditions affecting the wand's use.

Strengthened Implement: 

At tenth level, you begin to use your own power to push the limitations of wands and other implements. When you create your tempered baton, your creation may store an additional spell of first level with its own 1d4+1 charges. 

In addition, your Implement Extension feature is improved: you may now endow a rod or staff with two additional charges, or a single permanent wand attuned to you and in your possession is considered to have three additional charges (per day or other period as specified by the wand).

Wand Virtuoso:

At fourteenth level, your level of control and expertise over wands becomes so extensive that wands cannot completely fail you. When you expend the final charge of a wand, roll a d20. On a roll of a 1, the wand is not destroyed, and on a roll of a 20, the wand regains one charge. This also applies to your tempered baton (which, on any roll but a 20, does lose its magical status granted by your Tempered Baton feature).

A Wand Virtuoso is capable of breaking the laws of magic as they pertain to magical implements. Your expertise in implement magic allows you to imbue a standard melee weapon--magical or nonmagical--as your tempered baton. You still need to attune yourself to the weapon to use the wand functions as usual, but can now cast spells while wielding the weapon, rather than needing to have a the wand drawn separately.

 -----------------------------------

Let's take a look at what this class progression looks like with all of these features in place:

...and there it is! A (preliminary) 5e Artificer. To stay true to the original, I tried to stress versatility over expertise.

Let me know what you think in the comments. I think this might be ready for play-testing! My early thoughts are this iteration of the class will be wildly powerful at the mid-tier, low-powered at the beginning, and will start to fall off by the highest tiers of play.

D&D 5e: The Hoard of the Dragon Queen

After a lengthy hiatus, I'm back! This time, I'd like to discuss my thoughts on the Hoard of the Dragon Queen adventure path. For the uninitiated, this is the first "module" for the 5e game. Developed as the first half of the Tyrrany of Dragons campaign, Wizards of the Coast partnered with Kobold Press (and two veteran designers) to produce this book and its companion, Rise of Tiamat.

Spoilers Definitely Ahead.

The group I DM for has finally finished all eight episodes after (roughly) a year of playing between once and twice a month. It took us roughly ten "sessions" of play time to go through the book's contents. The sessions ran from small 2 hour evenings (very rare) to marathon 10 hour die-hards (only once), but on average each session was between three and four hours.

We continued the story of the Lost Mine of Phandelver when starting Hoard of the Dragon Queen. That is, my players' PCs were roughly level 4, had already completed the sandbox-y Lost Mine of Phandelver module and were transitioned into this campaign. I used a transition that involved placing a connection between an encounter the PCs had (innocuous enough) in one of the towns in the Phandelver module and the first episode in the new book. The connection provoked a journey that required a few roleplaying encounters and one combat. For my notes on this transition, see my discussion on the EN World forums.

I will say that this method absolutely worked, and I would recommend it to anyone--particularly new DMs. Indeed, I'm willing to recommend the entire Hoard of the Dragon Queen, provided such a DM is willing to look at the many well-done blogs out there that have homebrew errata to "fix" or avoid some of the issues.

Overall thoughts:

• Structure: The jump from sandbox-y to narrative track was a bit jarring, but for my party (who like a mix of both) it seemed to work well. The key for my group was making sure to continually revisit the goals of the party as we started each session: why are you traveling here? Who are you looking for? What is the end-game here?
• Factions: Having already set the PCs up with faction contacts in LMoP, they enjoyed seeing their factions at work in HotDQ. It also made it easier for me to explain what was happening in many instances by recourse to their knowledge of the factions.
• Objectives: One of the narrative issues for HotDQ is how long it takes the PCs to find out why the Cult is gathering so much treasure. By the end of the first episode it's clear that that's what the Cult is doing, but it can take until the end of the adventure to discern why, and it does take until the end of the adventure to meaningfully stop the treasure train that starts in the first battle. From the DM side, this seems like a lot of excellent foreshadowing. From the PC side, it's a fairly long and convoluted scheme that is somewhat unsatisfying to plod through. ("There's another place this treasure is going? How far are they hauling it?!")
• Realistic Villains: Again, one narrative issue in any campaign is the realism of villains. The villains that were most effective for my group were the straightforward ones: Cyanwrath (the half-dragon champion in Greenest) and Glazhael (the white dragon at the end). The least effective were the ones that (see above) had seemingly inscrutable motives for too long: the Red Wizards, Blogothkus, Rezmir, etc. Indeed, the "helpful" NPCs were much more interesting: the gnome they met on the road and Snapjaw the Lizardman, for example.

 

•  Epic Locales: One thing HotDQ does right is give a (however brief) survey of the Sword Coast and provide some truly amazing locations for the PCs. 
• Pro: A flying castle? That will be talked about for years!
• Pro: A swampy castle with a teleportation circle and a magical telescope wins some points.
• Pro: A dragon hatchery for low level adventurers was a great way to get the dragon-heavy setting early on without a fight with a wyrmling.
• Pro: Even the much maligned "road trip" earns some favor: the encounter with the Golden Hind/Stag is still being talked about months later.
• Con: A roadside fort? Boring.
• Con: Walking through two of the setting's biggest and coolest cities...and doing nothing cool in them? What the heck is the point? Why not just use back-roads?

 With the overall done, I just want to briefly examine the eight episodes and give my strongest thoughts on each. It should be noted that my thoughts below are most useful to DMs looking to run the adventure; players may feel more bored than usual!

Episode 1: Greenest in Flames

Having read a lot to the contrary, I do think that having a giant flying killing machine (blue dragon) and a bunch of raiders attacking Greenest is a great set piece. It was incredibly memorable, and made for a great evening of playing. The major issue was that the encounters simply weren't balanced; they couldn't be because of the flux the rules were in when it was written. Having the party already be level 4 helped a lot, but there were still some modifications that had to be made. Still, saving the keep from the dragon, saving innocents from the temple, and getting refugees off the street were deeply satisfying heroic deeds for my players.

Episode 2: The Raiders' Camp

For some parties, this episode might have been the most fun of all. For mine, it was anxiety causing. This was, once again, an issue of clear objectives: how can we find out what's going on without getting ourselves killed? It's a tough question to answer when no one in the group wants to get everyone else killed by being a ham or asking the wrong question or sticking his/her nose into the wrong tent! Because my players were so reserved, they weren't having the fun of an infiltration but rather the stress of being hunted. There was one hilarious moment however when the party's Rogue (Assassin) had killed a sentry and the sentry's buddy had started meandering over (having heard a noise). With nowhere to hide, she started making out with the corpse; the ruse worked and the guard left her alone. The most puzzling thing for my group (it seemed) was what to do with Leosin; take him at his word, or actually rescue him? The lack of a clear choice bugged them greatly, adding to their stress levels.

Episode 3: The Dragon Hatchery

Again, a lot of modifications would be necessary to run this with lower level characters. Even the fifth level party that was fighting through it in my case found some of the encounters challenging. Weirdly, my PCs didn't find any of the "interesting" reveals until after encountering the dragon hatchery. As a result, finding the maps/intel was anti-climactic. The highlight for them was probably the fight with Cyanwrath. Fully prepared, and fighting with allies, the Paladin who fought him first soundly trashed him this time.

Episode 4: On the Road

Amid the controversy of HotDQ, this episode seems the crux of it all. Some groups loved it and their DMs lovingly and longingly built a more involved framework for the route, stopping with side quests as appropriate. Others (me included) saw running it as a kind of DM purgatory; I pre-rolled all of the random charts/encounters and simply cut out anything that I didn't think the party would enjoy. As much as possible, we breezed through the long, long days of travel with few--if any--encounters. Even the roleplaying encounters were largely brushed aside or "recapped." Rather than try to work in the cultists as spies, I would just say (many days later) that they'd felt like they were being watched. As said earlier, the highlight was the weirdness of some of the encounters: the fungus, the stag, the merchants. Those were fun.

Episode 5: The Carnath Roadhouse

I'm not entirely sure I can convey my dislike for this part of the story, but here it goes: for several sessions, the PCs have been acting like spies. They're imagining themselves as James Bond. Then, they get to the Roadhouse, and the Lizardfolk open the wardrobe to Narnia. Suddenly, instead of being a spy story, it's become a tale of Hogwarts, starting with the station at King's Cross. The problem is that there are no clues left to tell the PCs that the narrative is changing. The result was that the PCs settle in, discover the Lizardfolk are stealing the treasure, and feel like they have to make a choice: follow the Lizardfolk who-knows-where or continue to investigate the Roadhouse. It seems as though the Lizardfolk are some kind of interruption rather than a continuation of the investigation. Thankfully, my group's players were okay to follow the Lizardfolk, but I could very easily see PCs deciding it's the cultists who are far more important to follow than the treasure--after all, the Lizardfolk seem like thieves! There's nothing tying them to the cult except that they've taken the cult's treasure. Maybe I'm just being a grumpy old man, but this lack of motivation bugs me. If done right, this episode should take about five minutes. If done poorly, the PCs waste all kinds of time, earn no xp, find no treasure, and the Lizardfolk get a ridiculous head start. And realistically, I feel like the cunning PCs are more likely to choose the latter; I was probably overwhelming in my support of going after the Lizardfolk to help my party avoid that fate.

Episode 6: Castle Naerytar

Great location. Excellent motivations for the groups/organizations involved. Very difficult to run. I understand that the designers wanted the place to feel like a living and breathing place--one that responds to the actions of the PCs--but it was maddening trying to control all of those moving parts while also running a session. The motivations of individuals were difficult to pin down--and most were written in disparate parts of the book. As a result, I basically had to brainstorm a bunch of different scenarios, keep track of where certain parties would be at certain times, and wing the rest. It worked out, the players had fun, and I think that all the necessary pieces are present (when you include the designers errata), but it's still a pain to run. I think providing one sample path of what might happen and where the individual players might be at a given moment would go far toward helping DMs construct a useful blueprint of their actions. Similarly, having a cheat-sheet (similar to the one in the back of Rise of Tiamat or in the background section of LMoP) would be incredibly helpful.

Episode 7: The Hunting Lodge

Like Episode 5, this felt like the kind of episode that was a side quest which happened to have main quest pieces stuck on it for flavor. If done correctly, the PCs could treat with Talis and be done in minutes. If done poorly, the PCs might be eaten by a troll patrol and never even know where they are. Again, the mission is transitioning; the treasure is so far ahead at this point that it won't be found in the Lodge, but PCs have to pick up on that (or the players do, at least). In the end, roleplaying Talis was fun and (I hope) memorable. It did provide one opportunity to see that the cult's leaders were not slavish pawns, but ambitious men and women.

Episode 8: Skyreach Castle

I loved this episode, but holy cow, so much could go wrong. The PCs could be discovered; any one of the interested parties could betray them; any fight could bring the whole castle down on them; Blogothkus might decide it's easier to squash them than listen to them; Glazhael might eat them; a vampire might eat them; the castle might crash--with them inside it. The list is unending. It's almost past the point of verisimilitude unless the PCs are extremely good at sneaking around and being diplomatic. A party of barbaric fighters and their uncharismatic fire wizard would be dead before they even learned how many enemies they were going to be facing. That aside, the best part of this episode is that the PCs finally start learning what's going on.

Conclusion: In the end, while I do like the storyline being presented, I suspect that Rise of Tiamat will be superior (to run), and I definitely can't wait to do a campaign arc that is entirely contained in one book and which doesn't have the problem of being written while the game rules are still being finished!

D&D 5e: Solving the Artificer Problem (Part 3)

In my first look at converting the Artificer into a 5e playable option, I considered how best to make it happen. After settling on Artificer as a 5e class (instead of a sub-class or archetype), I considered how to solve the problem of the Artificer being a permanent magic item craftsman in the Part 2. In this third installment, I'd like to consider the much fussier and probably less easily balanced art of Artificer "spells." In other words, how should infusions work in 5e?

In 3e, infusions (as cast by Artificers) had a few key characteristics that are worth remembering:

• Infusions are not spells, though they often mimic spell effects
• Infusions only go up to 6th level/circle; the Artificer was a hybrid class with a similar progression to a 3e Bard, where 6th tier spells are the cap.
• Infusions often have a casting time of one minute.
• Infusions often have costly material components or even experience point costs.

When we think about what "pitfalls" we might encounter when converting to 5e, a few things spring to mind:

• There are no more "6-circle" spellcasters. There are full casters (9 tiers/circles/levels), hybrid casters (5 tiers/circles/levels), and "faux" casters (4 tiers/circles/levels).
• Many of the original infusions were mimicking a system in which wizards/clerics buffed the party before combat with a variety of overlapping spells; this was a system without 5e's concentration rules.
• Many of the Artificer's spells reference Use Magic Device; a skill that no longer exists.
• At least in the playtest documents, warforged (usually the primary recipient/target of the Artificer's construct-related abilities) are now considered fully alive; healing spells cast on them are no longer halved in value, making Artificers less necessary in a warforged-heavy party. In fact, I'm not even sure that the "repair" line of spells/infusions is necessary in this environment.

So to reconcile these disparate pieces:

1. Should an Artificer be a full caster (9 levels of infusions) or a hybrid caster (5 levels)? (I'm assuming that an Artificer's infusions are more important to the class than an Arcane Trickster's few wizard spells, or an Eldritch Knight's offensive repertoire.)
2. Should infusions still be "separate" from spellcasting, or are infusions to be treated as spells that happen to only target items?
3. Should infusions continue to hold fast to the cost/experience model?
4. What replaces Use Magic Device, if anything?

Finally, since we're still dealing with just a base class (and not any archetypes yet) we can afford to allow the Artificer to be a tad underpowered compared with other classes; the gap can allow for some flexibility in the archetypes.

My first instinct tells me to try Artificers as hybrid casters, and to give them more infusions per day to compensate for them note being "full casters". After all, the Bard has been upgraded, why not the Artificer? Unfortunately, I think that ruins a very elegant system by adding another variable. Similarly, the original infusion progression is quite light; I think we either need to commit to Artificers being "full" spellcasters and assign them a full spell list (for example, give them access to Cleric spells or  Wizard spells) or commit to them using the hybrid progression. For now, let's consider the hybrid progression, but we'll assign them a single 1st level infusion slot at first level (hybrid casters don't start casting until second level).

If we stick to that idea, Artificers (under the current class model) will have light armor, simple weapons, no offensive spells, no cantrips, and only a scant few infusions per level even at the upper echelons of play.

All right, clearly that won't work.

On the other hand, if we assign a full spell list (say, the Cleric list), we're assigning a huge role (healing) that didn't exist in the 3e Artificer.  Of course, this did exist in 4e, so it's not entirely out of reach. If we make Artificers spellcasters, and give them the clerical spellcasting type (cleric spell list, cantrips, progression, and preparation procedure and number of spells), we're basically back to the Artificer as an archetype of the Cleric class. Not ideal!

Back to the drawing board.

This may be where the Warlock's unorthodox spellcasting can come in handy.  If we assume that Artificers are spellcasters, but that unlike Wizards (whose studies are formal, and whose manipulation of the Weave is based on training in an artful science) or Sorcerers (whose studies are of the self, and whose manipulation of the Weave is natural and based on the science of art), the Artificer is a muddled, idiosyncratic mimicry of other spellcasters--some science, some art, all based on research and observation (rather than tradition or talent).

Perhaps as a Wizard has a spellbook, a Cleric has a holy symbol, and a Warlock has a pact item, an Artificer could have an implement/weapon that is the focus of all spellcasting. For example, an Artificer doesn't "cast" Ray of Frost, but would rather be imbuing his staff, wand, or other implement with the power to cast it--and cast it. Cantrips become (for the Artificer) spells that are stored in the implement until needed by the Artificer, which can only be called forth by the Artificer.

An Artificer could have an implement (reminiscent of 4e) which could be the focus of most Artificer spellcasting. This particular object could be mundane or magical, but it is in some way bound to the Artificer (like attunement? short rest required to change implements?). In this way, the Artificer would not (for example) be casting  the spell straight out, but would actually be funneling magic through the implement.

Another piece of Warlock spellcasting that would probably make sense for the Artificer is the reset of spell slots each short rest rather than long rest. A smaller number of slots combined with the quick recovery of those slots means that Artificers are less likely to be able to break the new concentration rules because they won't have the means to do so (all at once, anyway).

Since this discussion is already well into deep water, let's finish out this theory and see where it takes us. For 5e:

• Artificers are spellcasters. They "cast" their infusions. For our purposes, Artificers casting spells is identical to casting infusions. (With the following restriction...)
• Artificers still may not cast spells directly, but rather must infuse an object with the spell. This can either be in the form of a "buff" (spell stays in the object) or in the form of a temporary magic item creation (as in the case of making a one-charge wand to cast magic missile).
• This will need some clarification down the line. Do Artificers both infuse and cast the spell from the focus item at the same time? Is there a delay?
• Artificers use the Wizard spell list to learn spells from.
• Artificers "know" certain spells from the Wizard list.
• Artificers use the Warlock progression for spells, with a few key differences.
• Artificers know their "Cantrips Known" from the Wizard list.
• Artificers know their "Spells Known" from the Wizard list.
• Artificers use the "Invocations Known" list to choose spells from any spell list. This functions like the Bard's "Magical Secrets" ability, but comes much sooner. 
• Similar to what is stated in the Warlock entry, one spell per Artificer level gained may be swapped out as the Artificer gains experience points/levels.
•  Spells learned must be of a spell level the Artificer is capable of casting.
• Artificers may choose to learn an additional cantrip, however only this cantrip may be changed out later. (Artificers cannot use this ability to learn a new cantrip then get rid of one they learned as a first level Artificer.)
• Artificers' "Spell Slots" and "Slot Level" mechanics function as a Warlock.
• Artificers may only cast spells if they have a spell slot remaining (except cantrips)
• Spell slots recharge after a short rest 
• One small change: beginning at 13th level, the Artificers spell slots become 6th level.
• Artificers use their implement as a focus for spellcasting.
• The implement may be a weapon, shield, or other handheld object.
• It may be magical or mundane.
• For the Artificer to cast spells, he/she must be attuned (as with a magic item, although this attunement doesn't count against the limit of three magic items. If, however, the chosen item must already be attuned in order to be used, that attunement must be done separately--and in that case counts against the total of 3).

Just a few more items to consider--the ones that break the bank, so to speak.

• Artificers ignore concentration. Because the Artificer is infusing an item with magic, once a spell is cast, it remains in the item and doesn't need to be concentrated on for the duration.
• After a short or long rest, any spells cast expire, even if their duration would normally be longer than that short/long rest.

 I am hopeful that the limited spell slots granted to an Artificer make this (concentration) less of an issue. Can an Artificer make four people invisible simultaneously? Sure, but only if they're 17th level or above, and even then they have no other magical powers until they've taken a rest (except cantrips). Can an Artificer heal? Sure, but only if they use one of their (total of) eight out-of-list spells on learning a healing spell. Can an Artificer cast fireball? Sure, but it'll use up one of the Artificer's scant few spell slots!


So let's return to our questions:

1. Should an Artificer be a full caster (9 levels of infusions) or a hybrid caster (5 levels)?
   An Artificer should be based on the Warlock model, ending with six tiers of spells, at drastically reduced spell slots.
2. Should infusions still be "separate" from spellcasting, or are infusions to be treated as spells that happen to only target items?
   Both. Infusions are spells, but Artificers still focus their castings through a particular implement item.
3. Should infusions continue to hold fast to the cost/experience model?
   Not for the moment. If we bring in some of the old infusions from the 3e class, it may be prudent to do so.
4. What replaces Use Magic Device, if anything?
   For now, since we're not using any of the old infusions, we don't need this skill. If (as in an archetype) we discover a need for this, it's possible that an Arcana skill will be functional.

To round things out, I think all we'll need are some archetypes. I'll try to consider one (or more) of those in a future post. For now, I think we need one that makes the Artificer more of an implement user (think of the old wand specialists), one that makes the Artificer more of a skill user (closer to a bard/rogue with a variety of skills and/or languages), and one that makes the Artificer more of a constructer (i.e. the old-school Artificer who used homunculi and build machines).

The last thing to be ironed out before we delve into archetypes (and therefore likely the topic of the next post) will be starting proficiencies and basic class features. Until then, please feel free to comment below with any suggestions for tweaking this "alpha draft" Artificer build!

D&D 5e: Solving the Artificer Problem (Part 2)

In the last post, I examined the problems with casting the Artificer as a subclass of one of the existing classes, eventually proposing that while that may be the most pleasing solution in terms of limiting game bloat, that it is not the best solution for the Artificer. Indeed, (I proposed) the best solution appears to be the exceptional one: the Artificer should be its own class.

After examining the first level abilities of the Artificer in the last post, we can continue to examine its other abilities. I'm going to set aside the much bigger question of infusions for now; we'll come back to it later.

Technically, I had left out the "Scribe Scroll" portion of the Artificer's first level abilities, but I'd like to address that alongside the general "Item Creation" extraordinary ability at second level.

 The basic outline is this: as Artificers level up, they gain the ability to craft magic items of each tier with greater and greater ease. The qualities to be considered are: the type (scroll, armor, weapon, wondrous, etc.) and the rarity (common, uncommon, rare, ultra rare). A third category may be the permanence of an item (one-use versus persistent), but that's often taken care of in the other two categories. 

• Item Creation: Starting at second level, an Artificer gains insight into the creation of permanent (both one-use and persistent) magical items. As the Artificer gains experience and  power, these insights become more numerous and more valuable. As with all magical item creation, it is up to the DM to outline the necessary parts/features required to create magic items.
• At 2nd, 6th, 10th, 14th, and 18th, Artificers gain access to new rarities of item creation.
• At 3rd, 7th, 11th, 15th, and 19th, Artificers gain the ability to ignore one ingredient to the magic item recipe at the various levels of rarity.
• At 4th, 8th, 12th, 16th, and 20th, Artificers' item creation costs are discounted by 25% at the various levels of rarity.
• At 5th, 9th, 13th, and 17th, Artificers gain the ability to ignore a second ingredient in the magic item recipes at the various levels of rarity. (Legendary-tier items cannot have more than one ingredient ignored.)
• These item creation bonuses apply only to item types for which the Artificer can craft.

Using the third edition progression as a baseline, the new item creation round-up might look something like this:

• Scribe Scroll: Starting at second level, an Artificer's close association with magical and pseudo-magical scripts gives him the ability to create magical scrolls. These scrolls may only be of levels for which the Artificer can cast infusions. [This will need tweaking as we deal with the infusions mechanics]. An Artificer may scribe a scroll for a spell which he has an existing copy or demonstration of only. For example, an Artificer may duplicate a scroll in his possession, may mimic a spell from a wizard's spellbook, or may scribe a scroll from a spell known by a cooperating and ever-present spellcaster who is assisting in the preparation and crafting of the scroll.
• Brew Potion: Starting at fourth level, an Artificer is capable of brewing magical potions and elixirs. 
• Craft Wondrous Item: At fifth level, an Artificer gains the ability to craft wondrous items.
• Craft Magic Arms and Armor: At sixth level, an Artificer gains the ability to craft magical arms and armor.
•  Craft Wand: At eighth level, an Artificer may begin crafting magic wands.
• Craft Rod: At tenth level, an Artificer may begin crafting magic rods.
• Craft Staff: At thirteenth level, an Artificer may begin crafting magic staffs.
• Forge Ring: At fifteenth level, an Artificer may begin forging magic rings.

We can abridge our earlier chart and add the new information to it:

With all of this in mind, there are a few things that still need to be discussed (or at least mentioned).

First, I've left out a few items on this original list: craft homunculus seemed somewhat unnecessary, as did the ability to take ten on a skill that doesn't really exist anymore. Retaining essences is an interesting idea, but I think it doesn't have a place in a magic item creation system that doesn't run on experience points. I also left out all discussion of metamagic feats and magical items. It seems to me that metamagic has been made the exclusive domain of the Sorcerer--one of the few things that has been given to a class that (at this point anyway) seems to be shunned in favor of the other primary spellcasting classes. Taking metamagic creation and giving it to the Artificer would just be mean.

Second, I removed all of the bonus feats. Those bonus feats are (in 5e lingo) the kind of specialization that should be left to archetypes. I'll have to develop a basic archetype for the Artificer, but until I do, I'm going to leave him without the bonus feats (or the "craft reserve").

Third, as you may have noticed, I bumped all of the item creation "feats" by exactly one level. 
I thought about bumping the earlier ones by two levels in honor of the first few levels of 5e being "apprentice" levels, but decided against it in order to preserve the elegance of the original design. The single-level bump still makes it so Artificers are not necessary for item creation, but rather strongly encouraged.

Fourth, while there are definite guidelines for magical item creation in the Dungeon Master's Guide, I'm giving DMs a lot of latitude with these rules. Nowhere does it spell out exactly what is needed to create a given magic item. For now, that's up to the DM--though I could see a system easily falling into place. (For example, maybe the costs in the DMG represent only the gold costs for magical powders and inks used in the creation of all magical items, but different rarities of magic item also call for different numbers of additional ingredients. A common potion of cure wounds might need only the base cost and two additional items; an uncommon potion of cure wounds might need three.) These requirements could easily be scaled by the DM to fit whatever level of magic is required for the campaign. (In this respect, I could even see Artificers in non-Eberron settings--just jack up the requirements per magic item. Having said that, I think it may be so punishing that it's not worth it for players to pursue it. More on that later.) A high-magic Eberron campaign might lower the number of ingredients required, while a "standard" campaign might find the numbers I propose to be functional. Each DM can calibrate by adding or subtracting ingredients across the board.

Fifth (and finally?), it should be mentioned that this entire (series of) post(s) is devoted to how to make a 5e magic-item-crafting Artificer. In a non-Eberron campaign, I am uncertain that such a class has a place. For example, I don't think I'll be allowing my own players to playtest this class in our Forgotten Realms campaign; it's not the right flavor/fit. If we accept that the Artificer is an Eberron-only (or at least, primarily Eberron-exclusive) class, a lot of the balance issues start to fall away in favor of the higher magic environment.

Next time, we'll tackle another piece of the puzzle. In the meantime, let me know what your own thoughts are on the initial magic-item-line of the Artificer's repertoire!

D&D 5e: A Case for Eberron

There's been a lot of talk on the interweb about what campaign setting (if any) Wizards of the Coast should be looking into publishing next. Or soonest. Or most profitably. Or ever.

You get the idea.

Without going into excruciatingly unique or idiosyncratic detail, I want to offer a brief pitch for one particular setting to be brought up to speed in 5e.

Dungeons and Dragons--and indeed most traditional RPGs--have a particular, familiar, comfortable format. From Tolkien, through Chainmail, and into the "modern" era of gaming: sword-and-sorcery; dwarves, elves, and "hobbits"; mysterious but often predictable magic; Euro-centric medievalism; and heroes who are born to look for power gain, glory, and gold. I'll start by saying that there is nothing wrong with this; I love playing "standard" D&D, whether it takes place in a homebrew setting, Forgotten Realms, Greyhawk, or what-have-you.

However, there is more to D&D than these (awesome) traditions.

When I was first introduced to the Eberron campaign setting, it changed the way I saw D&D. More than that, it changed the way I realized that stories could be told. I'm sure every "true believer" has their own story of why their precious setting should be the next one that Wizards updates to the new edition, but here are just a few reasons I think Eberron should be it. (Disclaimer: I am no expert on the setting. In fact, the very idea that I'm not an expert in it and I'm advocating for it is one of my minor points in its favor!)

I'll start with the obvious/overt:

• Eberron's "new" items (warforged and artificers, to give just a single example) provide fresh material for those who come to D&D and see only what they've already encountered in traditional fantasy literature--up to and including Ed Greenwood and R.A. Salvatore and countless others.
• The twists on traditional roles (good undead, sentient machines, elves as recovering slaves, etc.) introduce the right mix of familiarity and novelty. 
• Magic-as-technology bridges many play-style gaps and allows Roland and Edward to play right alongside Gandalf, Conan, and Cadderly.
• Steampunk, a movement that seemed like a passing fad in the early 2000s when Eberron came on the scene, persists--even thrives. A return to Eberron touches on all those cosplayers and crafters who think in terms of airships and machines without electronics.
• In terms of game mechanics, 5e's focus on character as mechanic would flourish: ideals, bonds, flaws, and especially backstory are nothing new to players in Eberron. Belonging to a noble house or being a scion of a great nation or being a new-forged mechanical being or, well, not being one of those things means a great deal even if you're only doing a dungeon crawl: dragonmarks, racial abilities, and other game mechanics were already hinging on these now-codified pieces.
• Keith Baker left much of his world undefined. That means there's plenty of room for the loremaster DM who wants to know who lives where, why, for how long, etc. and the fly-by-the-seat-of-his-pants zero-prep DM and the homebrew expert who fills in the gaps with his own fanfic that's better than published fantasy.
• Wizards has clearly seen the need for the setting: it commissioned it in the early 2000s and updated it into its fourth edition--an honor only shared by two other settings (and only one from the previous edition).

 Some less standard thoughts:

• Eberron has just had its great cataclysm.
• The Last War is fresh, gritty, and real--but also over. What's left is a world that is ripe for new stories to be told. The "average" setting's earth-shaking events either happened in aeons past or are about to happen. Eberron takes a uniquely different path by offering characters the chance to be a part of something much more difficult than standing at the precipice of a cataclysm: standing up amidst the rubble shortly after.
• There is a relative newness to the "recorded history" of the kingdoms of Eberron. 

• Dragons or aliens or even giants may have once been in charge and held long complicated histories--but they aren't humans (or demihumans). Elves and dwarves aren't the "elder races" anymore (and neither are humans). That means the Last War isn't just a terrible cataclysm, it's the terrible cataclysm as far as 95% of the world the PCs interact with is concerned.
• Everything inhuman is that much more alien.
• Speaking of the 95%, the other 5% becomes rare, strange, and exotic.
• Exploring makes sense. 
• In a new world, with alien creatures and exotic discoveries to be made, exploration is not just a romp through bandit-infested forests or spider-filled caverns. Exploration becomes a way of life; whole sectors of the globe are uncharted--or perhaps even more interestingly, the charts themselves are so out of date as to be dangerously inaccurate. Eberron craves adventurers naturally to solve, search, and explore.
• The playstyle (film noir meets bursts of action meets movie-style scenes meets investigation and problem-solving) encourages fewer "random" encounters and more story-infused encounters. The new Dungeon Master's Guide operates under the assumption that whatever your group's playstyle, you are telling a story. A setting that was designed with storytelling in mind? Perfection.

There are, of course, tremendous arguments for other settings, but my heart still sits with Eberron. In the end, I just hope we do see traditional setting guides and not just "adventure path supplements" with mini-gazetteers. Having a "setting bible" is (for me) an important part of using a setting in an edition (for me). In retrospect, it may be why I didn't continue with Pathfinder after the "Rise of the Runelords": there wasn't (at the time) a Golarion setting guide, and I felt disconnected from the adventure path's purpose (or context).

Here's to all of us getting something we can sink our teeth into for our beloved Dungeons and Dragons.