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Magagumo's page
RPG Superstar 6 Season Star Voter.  Organized Play Member. 275 posts. No reviews. No lists. No wishlists. 1 Organized Play character.
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Session Two
The party completes their preparations for the ambush, scouting out the site and re-arranging piles of junk to provide sufficient cover for the less stealthy members to hide in. They also convinced Savah, the local armorer, to lend them back the masterwork horsechoppers they had sold her to provide suitable bait for the incoming goblins-she permits it with a down payment of several gold.
They also scavenge up several heaps of oiled rags left from smithy work and array them in the sands east of the cove; they hope to light a distracting blaze with an alchemist fire if goblins attempt to flee. Emyrelda was to serve as ambush leader, launching an attack with a color spray when enemies drew near the bait.
Finally, preparations made, they wait until dark, hiding beneath the junk, and wait for goblins to approach. Due to the high stealth of the three sneaks (goblin rogues), Em was not able to pinpoint their locations as they infiltrated the ambush site—their lone goblin warrior lackey, saddled with a crude sledge for transporting goods, stood oblivious amongst the junk heaps.
Taking a chance, Em launched her spell from cover, ensnaring the warrior and revealing two nearby sneaks, both whom made their saves. The rest of the party rose from their hiding spots to confront the goblins—a bloody battle ensued, as the beguiler failed to launch her dancing lights as planned and the darkened night left Morrigan blind and unprepared for several sneak attacks—as the fight raged against the very nimble rogues, the party failed to notice the sudden death of the unconscious warrior, nor the subsequent accumulation of leather and metal scraps on its body.
Over the next five rounds, the group beat down the goblins, Em’s sleep[/] spells helping to drop the rest—one by one, the helpless foes died to an unseen force. Finally, as the party released their untouched foes no longer breathed, a large mass of driftwood rolled into the combat arena with blinding speed. A whirl of sharpened bits of junk rose into the air and sliced at the trunk, eliciting a multitude of wooden birdlike forms in mere seconds. Simultaneously, the goblin corpses jerked to their feet, the leather and linen bindings jerking them about as marionettes as metallic shards bound to their hands and limbs.
Engel, the dwarven warrior, recognized the avian symbol of Jarvis Stoot, the infamous and deceased Chopper of Sandpoint, and assaulted the effigy with his waraxe—his blow was rebuffed by its hardness and it lashed at his body with powerful limbs, the birds clawing his beard and face. The corpse puppets likewise thrashed at the warrior from all sides, sometimes piercing his steely defenses.
The group rallied behind their comrade, Morrigan and Dario attacking the less fortified puppets as Em aided Engel’s attacks against the effigy. Beth’s knowledge of the divine and undead enabled her to detect the essence of negative energy powering these animated objects (fueled by the roused hatred of the serial killer) and began unleashing bursts of positive energy to snap the “strings.”
Although Engel was pushed to the brink of serious wounds, the party was able to fell all of the animated objects and again lay Chopper’s madness to rest. Although none of the goblins survived to report the ambush (as was the original plan), the group nevertheless deemed the evening a success, especially after they discovered numerous masterwork and high-quality weapons and armor on the goblin’s sledge, including a glowing crystal designed to fit a masterwork weapon’s hilt.
{GM Notes: I added the encounter with the 3 goblin rogues/1 warrior, followed by 1 Medium animated object and 4 small objects for two reasons: First, we are following the Pathfinder medium experience progression and the group needed some extra encounters to keep them on track. Second, the group’s wealth progression was severely lacking following the Festival, so this provided me an opportunity to customize some mundane gear to bring them up to speed.}
On the following day, the group alerted Father Zanthus of their encounter at the cove and continued to recover from their wounds—Ameiko’s halfling maidservant served them breakfast, explaining her mistress was out for the day and would likely return in the late evening.
Dario recalled an earlier lead he had wished to pursue—the ownership of the wagons which brought a group of goblins to ambush the Festival—and set out right away. Hemlock’s second-in-command directed him & Emyrelda to the wagons, which were to be disposed of in the near future. Exploring the interior of the wagons, they found them bedecked with goblin graffiti, all drawings of course, and were intrigued by a particular set of carvings—these showed the goblins being directed by a “longshanks” to conceal themselves in a wagon, after which he pulled the wagon (under the “clear” guidance of the artist) through the city gates. Figuring there were elements of truth to this illustrated “power fantasy,” the pair discerned that the longshanks was well-dressed and had long ears, marking him as elven or half-elven (like Em).
Asking around the town, they realized there were few young, male elves or half-elves to be found, but caught a clue that one such individual had been seen, albeit rarely, around Ameiko Kaijitusu’s Rusty Dragon Inn a few years back and, more importantly, made have been a ward of the Tundarok Academy for Sandpoint’s orphaned children.
Continuing their inquiry, Dario and Emyrelda visited the Academy’s wizardly owner and headmaster and struck off a fine conversation about their exploits, as well as his long-past days of adventuring. Over several hours of chatting and a bottle of wine, they learned that a young man, named Tsuto, had been a ward of the Academy up to a few years past, having left to seek his fortunes—he had been quiet, resourceful, and quite the acrobat by the headmaster’s reckoning, but he could see no reason why the young man would have anything against the town. As they left, the master also recalled that Tsuto room & board has been fully covered by a private, anonymous donor, since his earliest childhood and up to around the point he had departed—the donations had ceased without warning at that time.
More knowledgeable, but uncertain of what to make of this new information, the pair rejoined the party at the Rusty Dragon, still overseen by the weary maid, and retired for the evening.
The next morning, the group sought breakfast and found the taproom a flurry of motion—guests were waiting for overdue breakfast and the maidservant frantically dashed about trying to appease them. Pulling her aside for a moment, the group realized that Ameiko, for the first time ever, had not prepared the breakfast as promised and had not returned the evening prior; the maid promised to say more, but was clearly overwhelmed by the task at hand. The group volunteered to help serve breakfast and privately sat down with her as they ate their own.
She explained that Ameiko’s room was empty, bed unused, and that a note in a variant form of Common had lain crumpled on her floor. Em and Beth began to decipher the note, with the aid of [i]comprehend languages and discerned that Ameiko had a brother, named Tsuto, who suspected their father (Lonjiku Kaijitsu, owner of the Kaijitsu Glassworks) had a hand in the goblin raid and invited her to talk at the Glassworks the evening prior. The maid revealed that Tsuto was an illegitimate son of Atsui, Ameiko’s mother and Lonjitsu’s wife, and that the boy was aware of his heritage—he and Ameiko had fought years ago but had since reconciled and spoke infrequently since Tsuto had departed Sandpoint.
The group, sensing the connections building, headed off to the Glassworks immediately. Finding it locked up and windows curtained, they set out to find a way in—Engel eventually consented to Emyrelda using her talents to unlock the loading bay door, while Beth and Morrigan convinced onlookers to move along. Entering the Glassworks, the party found it silent, aside from the chittering shrieks of goblins at play! They rushed into the furnace room, finding it an abattoir of charred limbs and shattered glassware—eight warriors capered about, some with empty bottles in hand while others cavorted with tongs slathered in molten glass. Beyond the horde, a humanoid figure, entombed in thick, wavy layers of glass, sat beneath the atrium skylights.
Bearing no mercy for the wretches, the party cut them down with swiftness, blades and sleep spells felling them where they stood—even with flying bottles and searing molten glass, the group suffered little harm—and preventing any from escaping.
The group surveyed the first floor in a matter of minutes, ascertaining that none of the laborers had survived the goblin attack and that the glassy prison contained the body of Lonjiku. Finding Ameiko and Tsuto nowhere on the first floor, they descended to the lower levels.
In the narrow halls of the basement, they found ancient rubble and a fusion of new and old construction—as they exited a large storeroom, a flicker of motion caught Em’s eye; leading the party, searching for traps, she was left exposed as Tsuto stepped into the corridor and let fly with an arrow they slammed through her shoulder, tearing open an artery.
Teetering on the edge of unconsciousness, she let fly with a color spray that left him unafflicted and ended with her collapsing to the floor. The narrow passage made it difficult for a counterattack, though Engel rushed ahead to swing and miss the nimble half-elf, while Dario sought the rear passage and Beth struggled to Em’s side. Still in melee, Tsuto attempted to fire a strange arrow—green-shafted and ending with a thick glass bulb—but fumbled the shot, causing it to land at his feet. As it hit the floor, it exploded in a geyser of green acid, washing over the surprised Engel and Tsuto and nearly slaying the unconscious Emyrelda.
{Notes: We use Vitality/Wound, and Em was left disabled at 0 Wound from Tsuto’s sneak attack shot, so her spell knocked her unconscious. The fountainhead arrow is aimed at a square, so we decided the natural 1 meant he dropped it into his own square, where he promptly failed his Reflex save. It also left Em at -12 Wd, which forced a Fort save 12 to survive—she barely made it and would certainly have died from the damage of the next round}.
Seeing the peril as the acid geyser continued to pulse, Engel dragged Em to safety where Beth’s Healing touch (1d4 Wd per touch) could begin to restore her. Tsuto had fled down the passage and swift Morrigan followed him into a tiny office, its rear occupied by a desk flipped forward for cover.
Morrigan found Tsuto a particularly hard foe to catch, especially as he somersaulted backward from his scythe, flipping over the desk in a backflip. He was soon cornered by Engel, Morrigan, and Dario, but none could harm him as his shortbow continued to whittle at their life—a black crystal in the bow flashed as he landed hits and seemed to restore him.
In the end, the party fought bravely for 11 rounds as Tsuto tumbled through the corridors, his arrows nearly felling Dario, and only as he began to find an escape route, did a lucky shot from the swashbuckler stun him and allow the vengeful Morrigan to knock him out with a blow from her stout bludgeon (One-handed sap).
Finding respite, the group discovered a bound and unconscious Ameiko, whom they freed and restored with healing, as well as a passageway that they surmised was an old sumggler’s tunnel.
They drug Tsuto to the garrison, Engel using his influence to have him shackled in a single cell, and rested for the evening. The next day, having bribed his warden (Engel’s friend and Morrigan’s cousin), Gryn Baerl, with silvers for Three-Dragon Ante, they interrogated Tsuto, using fear and [i]charm person[/] from Em, and found him a gold mine of information that, coupled with his journal, revealed the organization of a much greater goblin raid, orchestrated by the Thistletop goblin leader, Ripnugget, as well as the (presumed dead) Nualia of Sandpoint who sought the sacrifice of the entire town! Tsuto worked hard to convince the group that Nualia was misguided, but was willing to report on the tactics and equipment of her minions, Lyrie, Orik, and Bruthazamus, as well as their hideout beneath Thistletop. The group also learned of a “quasit and her minions” beneath the Glassworks and were all the more unsettled by this local threat.
Deeming the Thistletop goblins to be a challenge too great for the five of them, they began making plans for an exploration of the old tunnels beneath the Glassworks.
{GM Notes: I changed Tsuto into a 5th level rogue, but maintained the Improved Unarmed Srike and Deflect Arrows feats—the former helped him make numerous AoO as the group attempted to surround him in the tunnels. His 3d6 sneak attack and Bleed nearly killed Em, but his lowered damage after that kept him a reasonably challenging, but not abusive, CR 3).
Prologue
Whether shrouded in silk or smoke and arguing over vintage liquors or rotgut swill, the idle rich and the penniless academics each gnaw at a particular bit of philosophic gristle—Is a man’s career path dictated by his talents, or does his path determine what talents innate flourish as others wither on the vine? And is a talentless man destined to brigandry, or is the lack of a guiding hand that leads him to this end? A common dialogue goes as thus:
Proposal—a vintner’s success hinges on his tongue detecting the acridness of souring wine, just as a baker’s nose capture the smell of pasty and loaf at their gustatory apex, the jeweler’s eye spies facets and flaws that divide gem from glass, and the minstrel’s ear guides her tune to perfect pitch to meet her audience’s mood.
Rebuttal—could not the wagoner, farmer, alley thug, or bodyguard each turn their own senses to the task if proper training were presented?
Perhaps the irony is that prince and scholar claim the intellectual merits to hold this discourse, in the same breath denying their counterparts the same perspective and privilege, and yet never consider asking the brigand himself.
Brevrecht Allogenuous’s ears had rung with these words in ale-reek taverns and noble court alike, and each time had concluded that it did not matter what a man noticed that struck his fancy, but what a man could be made to miss—the silver coins of his money purse, for example. Brevecht had traveled for nearly a week on the padded cushion at the fore of a rickety conveyance, an ox-drawn wagon turned caravan, the vehicle wending its way over empty stretches of road toward his final destination.
Swaying in his seat, he drew in the essence of Diamond Lake, with all his senses, begrudging each in turn. The vintner’s tongue would recoil at the bitter smoke filming the air, the baker would wrinkle his tool of trade at the stench of humanity lolling on the fetid eponymous shorelines, and the architect’s eye would flinch at rutted, mud-spattered roads and sagging buildings. Even the minstrel would be pressed to present a tube that could allay the ennui and misery that lined the faces and creased the minds of these citizens.
Himself an artisan, Brevecht grimaced at the appalling and unwelcome lack of wealth to be seen on the grimy miners, prostitutes, and other day laborers that slogged through the morning streets. Desperation can blind a man with greed, but what’s the use if he lacks the coin to be taking under his unseeing eyes?
Fingers idly tugging at his shoulder-length silvered locks, the self-titled “Conte Brevecht Allogenuous of Deremor” continued his languid journey through the decrepit town, eyes lighting at the appearance of Diamond Lake’s “Emporium” and the glimmering rings that decorated the hands of its clientele and their escorts. There’s the place! Brevecht rose, legs bending to meet the lurching floor of the cart, and agilely lept onto a single cobblestone, drowning in the sea of mud.
The wagoner's scowl at an unpaid departure vanished behind naked greed as five silvers flashed toward him—he nearly hurled himself from the seat to capture an errant sixth silver—embarrassment hidden behind a broad grin. “Safe roads before you, sir!” he shouted as his snorting oxen bore on through the muck.
With luck, he’ll not notice those six still bring him four short from the journey’s start. At least, not until either he or I are out of sight. With his own grin, “Vex” spun about and approached the three brutes that served as the Emporium’s security force, standing astride the burlesque’s entrance. “Gentlemen,” he said with a wink and the gleam of four silvers, “Master Balabar Smenk is expecting me.”
* * * *
Minutes stretched on, mired in the wagon’s trek through Diamond Lake’s midden-heap streets. The “best” part of town, along with most of the vehicle’s passengers, had slipped away long before. Cocking a look back, the wagonmaster grimaced at the lone patron left in the rear of his splintering cart—rags and bandages enshrouded much of the figure, masking all but dark eyes and a black slit for a mouth. Damn beggar, didn’t even see them get on. Could’ve done me a favor and fallen off at some point as well. Perhaps later, he would recall that not once had the wretched figure approached him during the journey, where he, his money pouch, and the affable “Conte” had sat. For now, he scowled as the beggar rose to their feet and clambered over the sign of the wagon, landing hard in the mud, leaving behind five silver “friends.” How’s a beggar got that much coin? And why’d they leave four extra?
* * * *
The “Conte” sauntered into the heart of the Emporium, a multitier building where glitter and gaud coupled in a wreath of rainbow smoke. At least half of those substances are banned in Free City. I suppose anything goes in a place like this he reflected with a subtle grin. Inebriated men and women lounged on plush but stained divans, sipped brews, inhaled from hookahs, and chewed and spat from wads stuffed into their cheeks; all were laughing and spending their coin on ephemeral excess. Brevecht also noted gaming parlors scattered about the main floor, with card and coin swiftly changing hands, as well as dragonchess boards that allowed would-be generals to unveil their grand, drug-diluted stratagems through onyx and alabaster foot soldiers. Glimpses of pointed ear, childlike stature, and thickly bearded face hinted that more than just the race of man cavorted here.
Navigating the den of vice, Brevecht reached a private lounge whose bouncer beckoned him to pass beyond a thick velvet curtain. Walking behind the heavy drape, which ably served to ward sound and smoke from the chamber, he found himself in the company of four men. Two burly toughs stood at the lounge’s entrance, blades sheathed but accessible while their patrons, a man and a dwarf, reveled.
“Conte Brevecht Allogenuous I presume?” Grandiloquent and obsequious tones carried these words, spilling from the seated human’s bulbous lips. Balabar was a man of great appetite, as ruddy cheek and bulging belly confessed, but Brevecht could see a cunning mind nestled in his porcine eyes.
We are men alike, Mr. Smenk, crafted facades hiding our trickster’s wit. But you’ve got the long con here, while I am merely transient. Vex had heard of the philanthropy of “Master Smenk” long before walking the sodden streets of Diamond Lake—the man had produced orphanages and funds for widows of unfortunate miners, a hazardous profession anywhere, but worse when “safe practices” and “structural soundness” were ignored in the name of a mine baron’s “bottom line.” There were, of course, rumours of less savory deeds—debts collected in pain—but on the surface, Smenk was of the impoverished and de facto king of this sordid burg. “My dear Mister Smenk! It was indeed gracious of you to invite me to this scintillating establishment! Even more gracious to offer me lodging as we discuss the wealth I could be making for investing in your operations!” Play the fool, and they’ll expect nothing.
“Of course, of course my dear Conte!” smacked Smenk with a hearty laugh, “may I introduce the owner of our most lucrative mines, Gavine Dourstone?”
A sooty cough punctuated the dwarf’s arrival into the conversation. Eyes rheumy and bloodshot from clear intoxication, the mine boss extended a stubby arm across the polished wood table, the other limb entrapped in the sinuous curves of a hookah, purple haze sweeping from its stem. Brevecht was forced to lean to practically genuflect to briefly meet the grimy grip; greenish plumes of smoke rolled from the inebriate’s lips, as he fell back into his cushioned seat with a whoosh of breath.
“As you can see, dear Conte,” Smenk interjected, “Master Dourstone might prefer negotiations and discussions on the morrow. Perhaps you’d join us for a drink?”
That’d be a one-sided affair, old man. Dourstone can barely form a coherent thought—at least one considered coherent for a dwarf—and you haven’t touched a drop I’ll wager. “You are too generous, Mr. Smenk, for this meager village—you’d cut a dashing and welcome figure in any court I’ve spent my time in. Still, the travel wears too heavily on me to enjoy a stiff drink over a soft bed. Perhaps I might be shown to my lodgings?”
Dourstone giggled in hoarse rasps, though whether at Brevecht’s supercilious manner, his compliments, or the dwarf’s addled imaginings was left unsaid.
Casting a gracious and apologetic glance for his partner, Smenk smiled broadly, “of course my dear Conte, my manservant, Jenson” he indicated one of the two bouncers, “will show you the way.”
Brevecht bowed, and allowed himself to be led back into the smoky commons and outwards for Smenk’s manse.
* * * *
Balabar Smenk sneered once the “Conte” had departed. “Never trust a nobleman without his own servant and a parcel of luggage, Dourstone. A man unburdened by others is one prepared to run at the slightest trouble.” Smenk neglected to mention that he had at least three contingencies for escaping from Diamond Like with life and wealth intact, should the need ever arise. “Caleb?”
The other bodyguard suddenly focused on his employer’s words, “Yes, Mister Smenk?”
“Keep a weather eye on our dear Conte, and let me know if he strays far from the Emporium or the manse.”
Caleb had served Smenk for six years, and knew exactly what to do if the fop failed to comply with his boundaries; he’d buried his share of bodies. “Yes, Mister Smenk.”
Balabar had already returned to his musing, “Never trust a genasi, Gravine. As capricious as a gnome and light-fingered as a halfling, that breed.”
An indelicate snore marked Dourstone’s thoughts on the matter.
Balabar rose, disgust writ plain for the dwarf’s intemperance, “I fear for Mr. Dourstone’s miners tomorrow, Caleb. He’s a hog when he’s sober, a boar when he’s drunk, and an ogre when he’s hungover!” Chortling at his own wit, Smenk left the Emporium imagining the pain he would inflict on the “Conte Allogenuous” if his guess was right. Don’t con a conman, genasi; he’ll keep you dancing until you swing!
I suppose this isn't entirely novel/constructive, but thank you for removing the opportunity for a Str 13 individual, with Power Attack and a greatclub, to damage an adamantine object with ease. (see below)
Damage: +1 from strength modifier + 20 (10 Power Attack x2 from 2-handed weapon) = 21 damage.
I appreciate that Power Attack persists (especially in the streamlined form that rewards the brutes over the finesse fighters and makes for easy GM judgment calls re: Power Attack levels), but you've effectively removed my biggest gripe, that no stone or metal cell could hold a character with BA 10+ (including a strong 20th lvl wizard) with a stone and strength of 13+, as they proceed to 20-pt power attack his way through all obstacles.
Thank you also for including our other three senses as means of detecting a foe and providing all races with boosts to help improve the lowly half-orc.
So, now you can sunder your opponent's armor as well?
Follow-up: Adamantine full-plate, suffering 1 point of damage (out of 60 hp) is treated as having half effect for AC until repaired by mending outside of combat?
Follow-up 2: Does the armor bonus from enhancement (+1-+5) also get halved?
Magnificent says I!
I like the inclusion of "psuedo-reserve feats" for most (all?) of the domains and schools-- it's nice to provide wizards and clerics constant opportunities to wield arcane and divine power without running completely out of spells-- the inclusion of being able to cast signature spells (i.e. shield or magic missile) with greater frequency as they level is nice as well. I also notice that these reward players who stick with the base classes, whereas prestige classes from 3.5 granted domain/specialty slots for all spell levels, including those earned using boosts from said prestige class.
I've termed these "crescendo" feats due to their escalating effect, round-by-round, but I admit this post is a mixture of confusion and praise.
First praise-- the Cleave/Great Cleave crescendo is a nice conversion of an otherwise barely used feat set (and very similar to 4th ed's Cleave ;)).
The shield bash "hit vs. miss" impacting the outcome is clever and logical, creating a chance of risk but rewarding success.
The "Targeting" tree is potent, but the 1/3 round nature of these attacks (especially Pinpoint Targeting) seems appropriate for power balance.
"Overhand Chop" feats rewards persistent two-handed attacks (berserker style) that fits the barbarian style nicely, I think.
(Others are good as well, but these stand out to me).
Confusion-- So, why can we only Spring Attack once every 3 rounds? I like the chance to Mobility and Dodge-- more streamlined-- but even alternating between the two of them is straining at my logic. Is the individual spending one round hopping in one spot to avoid attacks (Dodge) so that the following round he can dart away without suffering AoO (Mobility). If so, then how does the avoidance of AoO then contribute to being able to move in to an enemy, strike, and move away?
If it were me, I'd keep the requirement progression (Dodge, Mobility, Spring Attack), but made Dodge the trigger for both Mobility and Spring Attack.
Dodge--> Mobility: Player boosts AC then moves past any enemy without an Attack of Opp.
Dodge--> Spring Attack: Player boosts AC and can then target a foe for a strike (one attack), while focusing on avoiding their attacks (no AoO), and searching for an avenue for retreat (move again).
The expense to the player is that they can now no longer avoid AoO from every foe, due to their focus on the one, but Spring Attack becomes a feasible maneuver every other round.
Just my thoughts.
So, I really have been enjoying the "Way of the Shackled Beast" Eberron article you wrote, Mr. Logue, but I'm finding myself confused by the Monk Style.
You see, if Disruptive Strike (granted at 6th level) requires Stunning Fist to function, but the shifter monk has sacrificed Stunning Fist at 1st level for Fear No Binds... As far as the rules go, that poor monk can't grab Stunning Fist until their 12th level feat, which seems to leave the Style somewhat wanting.
Don't take this a criticism, but more as an attempt to pick your brain and see if you have any suggestions for the seeming quandary.
(Of course, any Paizo staff that can also answer this question are welcome to respond :))
Well, I just got my April Dungeon yesterday, and was thrilled to try my hand at finding all five grails between its pages. However, I have a small point of contention and hope the writers can clear it up: The small sidebar (pg. 10) containing the rules for this contest contains an illustration of the cloud-enshrouded hand & grail, but does not state whether or not it should be considered as one of the five hidden grails.
So, in hopes of clearing up a lot of potential confusion, should I be searching for four other grails, beyond the one found on pg 10, or five of them?
Not sure if this has already been mentioned before but I couldn't find it in a search, so I figured I would just start a new thread.
Between when I first joined Paizo and now, I've moved several times. Adding that to the fact that I accidentally added the same address twice a few times, I've got 8 addresses listed, only 2 of which I actually use. I can't find a way to delete these useless addresses; shouldn't there be a way?
A few weeks back, our own Jonathan Drain noted the recurrent and unsolved issue of NPCs crafted from base races not providing a challenge sufficient to their suggested CR level.
Calling it the "elephant in the living room," Jonathan demonstrated how, at low levels, an NPC might be equivalent to a monster of the suggested CR- I believe he compares an orc or half-orc fighter (3rd level) to an ogre, and the two are basically equivalent, given sufficient armor and magical equipment.
But, as he notes, this equality soon breaks down, with mid-level NPCs only serving as fractional equivalents of their monstrous counterparts (a 7th fighter vs. a hill giant, a 10th sorceror vs. a rakshasa) and the high-level NPCs paling by comparison (a 16th fighter vs. a horned devil or a 16th cleric vs. a planetar).
Although rarely spoken of by most DMs, this imbalance causes many of us to prefer monsters (or even classed monsters) as our villains and major challenges to the party, with classed NPCs often serving secondary positions. In a way, we can't help but prefer the monsters, whoare generally more of a challenge, while also providing a more balanced quantity of treasure.
In the end, my opinion and proffered "solution" might not appeal to some, but I hope it can aid others who have wrestled with the "pachyderm of weak NPCs."
My idea is based off an optional rule, listed in the Epic Handbook, which notes that an NPC of 20th or greater might be treated as having a CR equal to their class level -2. As this option was based off the growing disparity of wealth between NPCs and PCs (a 20th level PC has over 3 times the wealth of a 20th level NPC), as well as the possibility of the PCs having Epic Spells, I thought it might serve as a suitable guideline for the lower levels.
Note: I am currently playtesting this idea in my current campaign, and thus do not promise it to be perfect. Also, it requires some finessing in encounter design and experience totals, as it will often produce NPCs with non-whole number CRs, i.e. CR 4.5, 6.5, 8.5, etc.
Proposal
-1st level wizards and sorcerors aside, we can generally assume that low-level NPCs provide an adequate challenge to the party (i.e. class level = CR), especially since equipment is generally equal between 1st-4th level. Thus, we make no changes.
-Once the party reaches 5th level, we subtract .5 (one-half) CR from all NPCs whose class levels are less or equal to the party's level. At this point, the party begins to have an edge against an NPC, especially in terms of accuracy/strength of attacks and their ACs, and a typical 1/2 CR creature can no longer provide any sort of challenge.
-Once the party hits 10th level, we subtract 1 CR from all NPCs of equal level or lower, and subtract .5 CR from those who exceed the party in class levels. Again, the party's talents are mounting, and their equipment is really setting them above the average NPC, even those who exceed them by 1-4 levels (I assume few DMs throw a NPC of 5 or greater levels vs. their party, at least not on any regular basis).
-At 15th level, we subtract 1.5 CR from all those equal or below and .75 (or .5 or 1 if you prefer easier math) from those above the party.
-Finally, at 20th level, all 20th or lower NPCs are 2 less CR (befitting the ~610,000 gp deficit in equipment) and those above the party are at -1 CR.
Notes:
-This progression can continue up at each and every 5th level interval, which I confess was an arbitrary determination set to fit the Epic Handbook's optional rule (-2 CR by 20th level).
- I would advocate that NPCs continue receiving the quantity of wealth suggested in the DMG, but that a GM follow the examples set in Dungeon and err on the side of consumable items.
-For classed monsters, subtract the racial HD from the PC level, resulting in the Effective Party Level, then calculate CR adjustments. (i.e. A 12th level party would treat a 12th lvl human fighter as CR 11 and a troglodyte with 11 fighter levels as CR 11.5, but would treat a hill giant with 5 barbarian levels as CR 12
(PC Level - Racial HD= Effective Party level vs. Monster class levels = CR adjustment or
{Human} 12 - 0 = 12 vs. 12 = -1 adjustment;
{Troglodyte} 12 - 2= 10 vs. 11= -.5 adjustment;
{Hill Giant} 12 - 12 = 0 vs. 3= 0 adjustment)
YMMV, but I hope this idea helps make the use of base race NPCS more viable at higher-levels. In my own revisings of Red Hand of Doom, I find it has fit the party's capabilities more ably than if I had used base CR, and generally requires only a few adjustments in the number of NPCs to follow the expected experience/EL curve.
Feedback and advice welcome.
1. "While Wd damage from a critical hit is not multiplied, it nevertheless is completely immitigable, as it ignores all DR and deals damage solely to the Wd pool, regardless of current Vitality. Critical hits retain their deadly nature at all levels of the game, with the swashbuckler’s rapier being as potentially deadly as the wizard’s finger of death."
Caveat: Personally, I've found that the Vitality/Wound system does become incredibly potent at high levels, where a player with a strong attack bonus can potentially deal Wd damage on 1/4 of their attacks w/ a keen scimitar or rapier.
Their is no true "solution" as this aspect is critical to the system and honestly, is one of its strong suits- when did a 16th level fighter scare you as much as a 16th level mage?
However, I've found that there are two ways to deal with the potential of going from full Wd to 0 in one shot:
First, encourage players to explore the Fortification armor enhancements (all but monks can use this ability, as even arcane casters can enchant mithral bucklers). One might regard this as "cheating," but critical hits are already deadly at high levels, esp. w/ regards to the swashbuckler class (Complete Warrior) which deals Strength and Constitution damage with each critical hit. If you feel critical hits should be preserved, simply eliminate the Heavy Fortification option.
Personally, favoring low-magic settings for this system (more on that later), I prefer the AC/DR system also outlined in Unearthed Arcana. In brief, a portion of an individual's armor or natural armor bonus is reduced in order to grant a non-magic "all-stacking" Damage Reduction (#/--, like an elemental or barbarian). While DR is ignored in the RAW (more in a moment), retaining this form of DR helps to weaken the deadliness of a critical hit. Also, the 1 pt critical hit (say from a familiar) can potentially be ignored, saving a player from fearing that flock of 20 hawks ;).
In my own campaigns, I have allowed players to select two forms of armor (unalterable after construction) that either provide a full AC bonus or the AC/DR- some people prefer the higher AC as it helps prevent all but the natural 20 critical hits. However, I consistently follow the rule that Natural Armor be converted too DR (every 5 pts of Nat AC become 4 AC & DR 1/-). So far, this has emphasized the thickness of a creature's hide (like a giant crocodile's) well.
One final caveat on the above idea- lowering an individual's AC makes them more susceptible to 2-handed Power Attack (trading 1 attack bonus for 2 damage). I have not developed a solution for this issue, but you may decide that only half the bonus effects Wd (on a critical hit) or that even all Power Attack is ignored on critical hits, the extra damage instead affecting the foe's Vitality {as occurs with a large portion of a rogue''s sneak attack on a critical hit} {Warning: untested and potentially overwhelming if used with the next house rule).
Last house rule: While the RAW suggest all DR be ignored on a critical, (this includes those creatures which cannot be critted, as you are still theoretically finding a weak point) you may find this leads to an ignoring of DR in favor of crits. The swashbuckler remains my prime example, as they are notorious for using rapiers, have a full attack bonus, and even add their Intelligence as bonus damage. Personally, I suggest the use of the AC/DR rule, coupled with a halving of the creature's natural DR.
While one would generally not permit both forms of DR to stack, the creature's AC is being lowered in order to augment its DR, which is often then ignored in the case of outsiders, dragons, or constructs. As noted above, this permits a canny player to use more Power Attack then normal, with no appreciable benefit to the creature. Thus, by halving the creature's preexisting DR and adding the extra bonus, one should see a still appreciable effect from a critical hit (esp. since it directly affects Wound) without the critical hit overwhelming the creature's CR- using weapons designed to beat a foe's DR will remain a viable tactic and a smart player using Power Attack is still rewarded.
As this system involves a great deal of math, I suggest a DM include the creature's DR and natural AC calculations directly into its stat blocks for his game. Also, until one is familiar with the halving of the DR for crits, you may wish to note what the DR would be for both a normal strike and a critical hit.
I have examples of a stat block and calculating a creature's DR below.
No DR from Nat AC:
AC 15, touch 10, flat-footed 15
hp 59 Vit; 11 Wd (7 HD)
DR from Nat AC but no pre-existing DR:
AC 20, touch 11, flat-footed 18
hp 91 Vit, 18 Wd (9 HD); DR 1/-
[Natural Armor +7 --> Natural Armor +6 & DR 1/-]
DR from Nat AC and pre-existing DR:
AC 22, touch 14, flat-footed 18
hp 118 Vit, 20 Wd (10 HD);
Vs Normal Hits: DR 15/good and piercing or 1/-
Vs. Critical Hits: DR 7/good and piercing + 1/-
[Natural Armor +9--> Natural Armor +8 & DR 1/-]
Calculating DR:
A Troglodyte Zombie a natural AC of +8. By AC/DR, the zombie's AC is reduced by 1 (8/5=1.6--> 1; 8-1= +7 nat AC & DR 1/-).
A Great Gold Wyrm has natural AC of +40 By AC/DR, the dragon's AC is reduced by 8 (40/5= 8= +32 nat AC & DR 8/-)
In summary, a DM may decide that the ability of a critical hit to floor an opponent is quite acceptable- this is a perfectly reasonable decision.
They may also decide that magical means can be sued to prevent critical hits (as normal) or that DR (pre-existing or from Armor/Natural Armor) should lessen the potential damage.
All are good decisions, though I personally recommend ameliorating the damage through the above means- critical hits will still be important, but won't have quite the same disruptive effect on high CR monsters (or your players).
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