Set & Setting - XI - Demihumans & Demographics

Introduction

Incessant is the toil of the world-builder as one seeks everwhich nook and cranny from which a sense of place may issue that will scratch the awareness of the average player. Things may start out obvious and visual: a map dotted with some place names, a trove of selected pieces of artwork, a little ambush along the aural pathways, to be followed perhaps by some inklings of material culture – preferably reflectable on the equipment list –, a few whiffs of exotic-scented social mores, hierarchies, titles and traditions, a dip in a setting calendar or even, if brave’s the feeling, coinage denominations or distance measurements. The list is fairly unending and the corresponding chances of success equally scattershot.

And then there are the races and classes to be found in a world, of course.

Most settings aspiring to make inroads into uniqueness seldom pass on the chance to perform more or less sweeping changes to the roster of playable lampshades of humanity and their respective occupations, the usual approach being heavily slanted towards addition rather than replacement or outright subtraction. We’ve seen the modern game all too happily bobsled itself down that slippery slope of “anything goes” maximalism, having latched something fierce to the airy notion that everyone can be an astronaut, spawning parties comprised of ever more outlandish blends of critters and classes as mainstream DnD’s pseudocosmopolitanism inches ever closer to that of a planar nexus whereas, looking past appearances, things obviously boil down to the primest material of suspects – money. After all, how’s a company to keep mushrooming splatbooks confronted with the slightest concept of temperance? No, the spice must flow.

‘tween Paladins and Normal Folk

Gulping the bile back down for a bit, I do recognize playable character class and race choices as integral to world-building. After all, what game construct will stick more readily to a player’s hands if not one’s own character?

The way AD&D went about things was such that, just as it expanded the potential class choices, so they were gated by stat minimums. I found this approach adequate if a bit underdeveloped and prone to sameness; at least the foresight to account for such an issue was present. And it got me thinking of a different, more agile and setting-driven way to tackle the same issue.

To that end, I’m pondering the addition of the following tables to the process of character generation, both for the usual purpose of determining the overall tone of the game by way of what classes and races exist in the setting as well as the particulars of how common or otherwise their occurrence is. As ever, I welcome my old friend, by which I don’t mean darkness but the bell curve. Bearing with the examples – pretty much par for the course as they are – , note that they reflect my own preferences for a tolkienistic stance on demihuman isolationism quite at odds with the game’s current spirit, as well as nursing a strong human bias. Of course, this will rub right coarse-wise against the grain of player expectation (or, these days, empowerment?), who oftentimes come to sit with already a fully formed idea of their character ready to leap out of their brow onto existence. Although as it stands the class roster presented below is far from final and the same going for the ratios apportioned, it’s good to clear the air in saying that quashing expectations is the exact idea as intended, such that all that is guaranteed is that which is deemed essential: the four core classes are represented, so is the basic shape of humanity (on which demihumanhood ends up falling back upon anyway), the player is expected to expect nothing, but rather to keep an open mind.

The table contents are themselves, however, a concession to the usual expectations of play, for in keeping with a grittier, more “low fantasy” type of setting it could be deemed appropriate to have a caster class like the Cleric switched for the Ranger or Assassin and the Wizard equally pushed into some measure of rarity, if not removed all entirely.

The Tables

Every time a new character is generated a roll on the tables will dictate the rarest entry available to be picked, along with everything coming at a lower result, shaping different amplitudes of choice for each player. This deliberately places an additional kicker on character generation, opening the possibility that a lackluster set of attributes rolled by a player may come coupled with an unusual race, class or combination thereof, rather than having already winsome stats doubling up their advantage as dictating access to the less common classes. Note that “less common” means just that, for it is not my desire to establish the rarer races or classes as more powerful, player-rolled stats providing more than enough stratification as it is. Rather, the design of classes and races should strive for balance and this tool should serve exclusively as a driver for world-building immersion and nothing past that.

Bear too in mind that these are static examples, the real deal is supposed to breathe with the pulse of events in the game world, both player-driven and otherwise, potentially accounting for:

- the geographic location of the party when a new character is rolled up (henchmen included), which might drastically alter the roster and positions of the different race entries

- events on a scale large enough to interfere with the presence and distribution of certain populations, such as plague decimating half-men burrows, border disputes with orcish clans developing into full-fledged war, sprouting an unusual number of half-breeds along the trail of destruction, famine reducing mankind’s hold on the fertile valleys or a vulcanic eruption driving the regional dwarven clans further into seclusion

- benefits from establishing an in-game privileged relationship with a certain group, like a cabal of assassins, an elven kith or a witches’ coven, increasing their availability (or granting it outright as a one-time benefit) when rolling up a new character

Lastly, an obvious caveat: while I haven’t yet settled for a version, it’s worth noting that while the 2d10 tables may accomodate many more distinct options they make the high notes a lot harder to reach.

Rules of Engagement - I - Hammering those First Nails

Introduction

This post’s content is nothing if not a bit too obvious, dealing with my personal adaptations of the AD&D core into something more palatable. There is a lot of arcane stuff down there that were questionable ideas right from day one, others that simply have not aged well. This much would be true for any given edition of any given game but I’ll try not to dwell on what that means.

In a bid not to reinvent the wheel, I embrace a lot of conceptual frameworks which I had long regarded with mistrust (all the way since hurriedly leafing through ‘em on the old Inquest magazine back when M:tG was the belle du jour and RPGs were relegated to a lower rung of uncoolness).

Whereas once my eyes glazed at the sight of these progression tables, things were quickly demystified through use, as I came to realize they do not involve any looking up whatsoever to the average player, as only a single line of information is transcribed to the character sheet, remaining constant until the point of levelling is reached.

The aggregation of classes by archetype was something that struck me as making a lot of sense, bringing design clarity and a shared foundation for ease of later adjustment and differentiation by class. Individualized weapon proficiencies and penalties for lack thereof are also coopted without a whimper, as are the HD per archetype (d4 for casters and CON adjustments ceasing at ~9th level). The 2nd Edition Attack Bonuses, these I felt had to be reined in somewhat, as I do give some credence to the value of narrower variance – the oft talked bounded accuracy. In this I tried to be solomonic, keeping a fairly discernible progression for the more martial classes without going overboard (and cheated just a tad with the rogue – appropriate, if anything). I resisted for the longest time to the concept of having a single table determine monster attack bonuses, feeling it to be simplistic to the extreme; until I started reading past the gloss of the more modern monster manuals to find that, under the guise of more numbers, it amounted to about the same. Not to wax overlong on the merits of each, suffice to say that I’m willing to try it. In a world of off-the-cuff encounters and absent the safety net of challenge ratings, the virtues of immediacy and transparency afforded by a simple table come as precious to an improvising referee.

Saving Throws see the greatest change, being recast into something more intuitive to the undiscerning eye while keeping their functionality and overall progression, as it was felt the classic save names required habituation for little gain. I also rejiggered the categories, preferring to have a dedicated column for saving throws against Charm effects and ditching the practically redundant “Rod/Staff/Wands” category, perfectly duplicable by inserting save modifiers in a magic item’s description to account for their being weaker than a caster. I am tentatively declaring each save to be adjustable by the attribute modifiers, going with the corresponding obvious choices and having Wisdom modify all of the non-magic saves, meaning all columns except the rightmost.

Class Archetypes

A character’s class is a calling unto itself, one into which the character has poured all of his formative years, be it formally or informally, to make the grade of level one, laying the notion of backgrounds diverse from those directly relating to the essence of the class at the very edge of the table.

Rather than collections of battle powers, the best classes are those which offer a distillation of function, one whose purpose is clearly defined. The classic three (or four) classes are those that lie closest to their archetypical foundation. Next come those secondary classes which, though arguably not essential, rank high on strength of thematic concept, such as bards, rangers and druids for the standard fantasy backdrop. Lastly comes everything else, from the derivative to the scatological, classes who either offer a venue of window-dressing for the setting or constitute pure indulgence. Regardless, they all conform to the following division into four archetypes, from which they may then depart slightly:

·         Warriors

o   Attack bonus progression: +2 every 3 levels

o   d10 HD (+3 hp/level after level 9)

o   Weapon Proficiencies: 4 (+1 every 3 levels)

o   Penalty for lack of Weapon Proficiency: -2

o   Saving Throw Progression: every 2 levels

 

·         Priests

o   Attack bonus progression: every 2 levels

o   d8 HD (+2 hp/level after level 9)

o   Weapon Proficiencies: 2 (+1 every 4 levels)

o   Penalty for Lack of Weapon Proficiency: -4

o   Saving Throw Progression: every 3 levels

 

·         Rogues

o   Attack bonus progression: every 3 levels

o   d6 HD (+2 hp/level after level 9)

o   Weapon Proficiencies: 3 (+1 every 4 levels)

o   Penalty for Lack of Weapon Proficiency: -3

o   Saving Throw Progression: every 4 levels

 

·         Spellcasters

o   Attack bonus progression: every 4 levels

o   d4 HD (+1 hp/level after level 9)

o   Weapon Proficiencies: 1 (+1 every 6 levels)

o   Penalty for Lack of Weapon Proficiency: -5

o   Saving Throw Progression: every 5 levels

Attack Bonus Progression Tables

Saving Throw Progression Tables

Heartbreakers & Heartburn - A Short Execration

I’ve fought against it for a long time, but I cannot any longer

While the pandemic did not lead to a posting frenzy it did afford me the time to log in plenty of reading, both RPG related and otherwise. Always on the lookout for ideas to better suit the game for my purposes, I had already dipped my toes into the second edition of AD&D, at first as nothing more than a quest for curios, “just some window shopping, check any systems that I can wrap the ol’suckered tentacle on”. Of this I found more than I’d wagered I would, past the sandbars of naff cartoony illustration work and nestled among stuff like decreasing AC, Thac0, overland movement points, 2/3rds or 3/4ths modifiers and other assorted baroque design choices, jagged reefs that had previously kept me well at bay, was a trove of thoughtful writing made with the game in mind. It certainly wasn’t perfect – heck, much of the time it wasn’t even good – but it resonated within me with an irrational nostalgia for what had never been. So odd it was for me to feel this attraction to an edition launched barely within my lifetime that my subconscious must have begun looking about for the why of it.

As my chariot of thought was drawn along the seasons, hitched to idle rulemaking and campaign feverdreaming, the side by side comparisons started tapping at my cheeks, playfully at first but insistingly and with increasing force. There was something moving against me, a great avian shape, dark of wing, foul of smell and utterly soulless.

 

Fifth edition.

 

Truly, it had become as an albatross perched upon the shoulder, it’s weight unbearable, it’s shape revolting to look upon.

Matters came to a head as I started moving away from the free range of action subsystems and diving into the realms of spellcasting, class writeups and a skill system (or the questionable necessity of one), as drafts were successively discarded and time was spent fruitlessly poring over different older books, the impression that a game bereft of DCs and passive perception could not be conceived of began slowly eroding away. Juvenis loomed large over my mind, of course, and I also came across the deeply flawed thing of beauty that is Dark Sun.

For what little more I read of the 5th edition core books, the more their insufferably sappy prose and patched-together nature needled my eyes, where I once thought the monster manual, the class list, the straightforward mechanics and the spell lists had some sheen, now I saw only the uncommitted oversimplification and the sheer blandness of it all. It is true that 2nd Edition was already the result of corporate cogwork but I found its design ethos and level of detail to be at least adequate, the writing to have a much more sober tone and the whole to stand as positively soulful compared to the present edition’s paper-thin pandering, with its grating use of the second person and rules designed by comittee.

Suffice it to say the sore thumbs became infected. Adding to the replacement of modifiers for excessive dice rolling (even for me), the dissociated healing, the stupid baked-in “proficiency modifier”, the incipient skill system that’s about as good as having nothing at all, the tacked on “death saving throw” and “Hit Die” travesties and the lack of facing in combat came the templated and repetitive class structure, the “Challenge Rating” foam padding, the uninspiring spell list, the pervasive use of advantage in lieu of any kind of subtlety and the inane feat list. In sum, the mechanics all reeked of nonchalance, as even some of the concepts I did like were revealed as having originated with AD&D or, in other cases, with 3rd edition. I was ever aware that much time would be spent under the hood and looked forward to it, but between working to fix what’s broken and oiling up what’s left, my efforts to keep the beast approachable started feeling more and more misplaced. Between running highly modded 5E or modded 2E, any of which to the point of unrecognizability, why persist on dragging this millstone around? Strangely enough, the straw that dislocated the camel’s vertebrae was the difference between modern stat-blocks and the former ease with which stats could be concisely inserted on a random table or hex description without breaking stride. Ultimately the conclusion came that if I’d initially tied myself to this rusted anchor of a system it was because, frankly, I did not know any better.

So this is me, the crunch lover, putting distance between whatever I do next and fifth edition. I’ll keep some morcels here and there, and I will, of course, need to revise much of the little I’ve done, but everything was due a revision, sooner or later.

Here follows a commemorative picture to aptly relate the tribulations of the heartbreak designer, that being the fellow on the lower right.

 

Allow, if you will, a moment to clean the froth buildup at the edges and let us proceed to something more productive. Not for me to make a post solely to beat a supine equine. 

Here follows a cornerstone of the system on which I plan to rely for the perceivable future. On the altogether likely chance this has already been seen and done on any among the constellation of systems in existence, I claim for me a shield of ignorance.

Attribute Checks

Whenever a character attempts an action whose outcome is uncertain, the player is informed by the rules or referee adjudication of which attribute the action calls upon and the corresponding difficulty, which can be standard, difficult, very difficult or impossible.

Success is determined by a d20 roll whose result is equal to or inferior to the number prescribed by the action’s difficulty:

·         Standard task – roll is compared to the attribute score

·         Difficult task – roll is compared to half the attribute score (round down)

·         Very Difficult task – roll is compared to the twice halved attribute score (round down)

·         Impossible is self-explanatory. No roll need be attempted.

– All checks are assumed to be of standard difficulty unless specified otherwise

– In addition to the difficulty, circumstancial modifiers both numeric and in the shape of advantage or disadvantage may be applied to the roll. Exceptional success, if applicable, is represented by an unadjusted roll of “1”, and exceptional failure by an unadjusted “20”

Note that there’s no unified fundamental resolution system, as not all actions will prompt an attribute check and may instead have different systems for producing results.

Combat, as ever, is to be handled on an ascending basis of d20 plus modifier versus target number. Contests are likewise represented by comparing ascending d20 rolls.

Set & Setting - X - Polytheism & Religion Revisited

Introduction – How Fare The Gods?

Ever so often, the rpg gestalt will shift in its astral slumber, lips a’twitch into a grimace as the thought coalesces: “atheists make no sense in a fantasy rpg setting”.

Religion is a thorny subject for contemporaries, one that resists translation into rpg mechanics. Most – if not all – renditions of the game are perfectly content to reduce the divine’s parcel to so much background radiation, a trope that would feel amiss if left out, but whose presence is treated with detachment, certainly not expecting of the player to indulge in reverence in a way that would incense our modern sensibilities. Polytheism, if given lip service, is mostly treated as some form of chained monotheism, with each god as distant and unapproachable as the capitalized entity.

It is understood that monotheistic mores of complete submission (strangely sooner enforced indirectly through constructs such as “alignment” than religious piety) clash frontally with the basic appeal of rpgs: the whole “do what thou wilt” premise that has us seated at running after running of this collective exercise of ingenuity, gambling and one-upmanship that we call game.

Taking after the classics comes a desire to translate the ancients’ take on polytheistic worship to the game setting. This presents a few salient challenges, namely:

How to make religion important to player and character alike without it being burdensome and all-consuming? How to get characters to attend religious ceremonies as a natural course inherent to the game setting without being crass or heavy-handed about it?

How to balance knowable mechanics with the unknowable misteries of religion and godly whim?

How to make distinct deities relevant in a polytheistic fashion?

How to represent the tangled web of relationships between gods and mortals without overloading on complexity?

How can a single system cover both mundane character classes (i.e. the majority of them) as well as classes with a religious raîson-d’être?

This isn’t my first approach at the subject, as I aim to simplify the system as much as reassert the previous reasoning on this topic: Imperfect deities patterned after human behaviour, somewhat distant but yet able to affect reality, lumped into fractious pantheons are integral to emergent sandbox play.

Deities… and aspirants to demigodhood

Unlike, say, an overhaul of the combat system or rules for tackling an adventuring situation, blanket rules for religion can be kept at arms length for the average character, with no forceful need for interaction with sacral worship unless the player so desires (or unless one’s character class revolves around it). After all, it is eminently acceptable to enforce rules that state that a character cannot live without food and drink, but such is not extendable to a life void of prayer and devotion.

In response to the challenges listed above, there are certain conceptual boxes that beget checking, no matter how incipient the effort turns out being:

- Optional involvement, requiring active interest from the player (make it a resource, not a tax)

- Diminishing returns (don’t want to overemphasize a secondary facet of play)

- Transparent mechanics but incomplete knowledge of outcome (minimize arbitrary calls while emulating the unknowable nature of the divine)

- Reduced overhead (both mechanically and conceptually, as the number of gods to a pantheon should be kept manageable)

The watchword here is utilitarianism, however indicting the term may sound, something that I don’t deem possible (or even desirable) to transcend, for it is the only way for religion to have an honest say in a game that’s ostensibly about free will: The keeping of faith with a deity is a relationship based on giving and taking. Believers make tangible offerings and sacrifices through rites of worship and priests receive spells and divine guidance, while mundane characters settle for minor divine aid, all of them tools for thriving in the setting.

Note that, in aknowledgement of different strokes for different settings, the purposes of this post dispense with the need to touch upon any deity’s concrete identity – grounded or fictional – or character. The musings here expounded won’t require anything beyond fired clay placeholders.

Soliloquy over, time to serve up some stilted rulemongering.

1.     Standing with the Gods

A player-character is held in varying degrees of esteem by each deity in a pantheon combining to produce a character’s stead with the Gods, these values are only determined strictly when needed and are kept under wraps by the referee.

·         The roll at the heart of the system is a typical reaction roll, made on 2d6, adjusted for Charisma

·         A materialistic exchange guides all interactions with the divine:

o   Whenever a deity is worshipped or honoured with offerings or a promise, the character’s standing potentially improves

o   Whenever a deity is petitioned and beseeched for boons (spells) or direct aid, the character’s standing potentially lessens 

·         At the outset of play each player-character is counted as being outside the gods’ notice, not having offended nor called upon any among them to any significant extent

·         Once a character takes a stance on the gods, be it through worship, calling upon a deity for aid or acting in a way markedly pleasing or displeasing to one, the referee will make an appropriate reaction roll to discover what is the character’s stead with that particular deity, noting down the result.

2.     Worshipping Deities

Worshipping the Gods through ceremony

Followers renew their bond with a deity by attending a religious ceremony on a duly consecrated structure (the size of which caps the results, as per the table)

·         A new reaction roll is made by the referee every time worship rites are partaken, keeping the highest result

·         Clerics, on account of their close link to the gods, get extra dice when attending temple ceremonies, rolling 3d6 for non-patron deities and 4d6, dropping lowest, for their patron

* all results granting divine favour ignore Charisma adjustments (unless filtered through a Ceremony modifier, as below);

Ceremony modifier (+ 1/2/3/4)

A grandiose ceremony will please the deity and benefit all those in attendance, relying on four pillars to unlock a modifier that applies to all participants:

·         Size of the house of worship: Shrine, Fane, Temple, Grand Temple

·         Number of worshippers in attendance: 10, 100, 1000, 10 000+

·         Value of offerings (money invested in the ceremony, in silver pieces): 100, 1000, 10 000, 100 000+

·         Charisma score of the officiating priest: 13-15, 16, 17, 18+

All four pillars must be present and only the lesser among them is counted to determine a ceremony’s modifier

Pleasing or Displeasing the Gods through action

Each divine entity has a domain governing one or several facets of existence. That domain will logically produce a list of acts pleasing and displeasing to each deity; these cannot be properly enumerated but must instead be discretionarily determined, each time the player being duly informed that what he’s about to do could potentially please or displease a deity. Given that deities also maintain rivalries inside their own pantheon, offending one might mean garnering esteem with another.

Only significant actions are to be counted, this is not an exhibit for “religion as infallible tool for social control”, but rather aims to represent the myopic concerns of fractious polytheistic entities, with occasional nods at a greater sense of cosmic justice only when dealing with things on the scope of parricide, fratricide or outright atrocity, not something bound to turn up on your average running.

The most basic and direct way to displease a deity is to attack its luminaries and places of worship or to lay devotion at the feet of a rival from another pantheon (example: looting an old tomb for values would not alter a character’s standing with a god of the underworld, whereas desecrating a hallowed and ostensibly dedicated resting place could)

·      Whenever a character indulges in acts pleasing or displeasing to a deity, the referee makes a new reaction roll, appropriately replacing the current rating if it is higher (pleasing) or lower (displeasing).

·      If the nature of the act is noted as being particularly offensive or pious, the roll can be made at Advantage or Disadvantage (rolling an additional d6 and dropping highest/lowest)

Important exception:

·      If the roll comes up an unadjusted “12” on a displeasing act or an unadjusted “2” on a pleasing act, these results are counted as “high esteem” and “low esteem” respectively, superceding the action’s superficial logic, as it might happen that the deity wishes to test its erstwhile champion, that it is amused by the character’s defiant transgression of its mores or that an apparently pleasing act has actually interfered with the deity’s underlying schemes and plans

Devotional Promises

Outside of temple attendance, a character can exceptionally attempt to improve his lot with a deity by promising to further its name in deeds or material offerings, this counting as an act pleasing to the deity (prompting a roll to increase the character’s esteem)

·         A promise is verbally communicated to the deity (meaning the character needs at least a full round to effect its delivery)

·         The rarer the promised element, the greater worth will the promise carry:

o   Examples of promises include donating riches, making sacrifices, sponsoring ceremonies, converting unbelievers, slaying heathens, making a pilgrimage to a holy site, embarking on a crusade, toppling a rival temple, finding and donating a prized artifact to a temple or slaying an infamous enemy of the deity

o   Deities crave variety: a character will gain nothing from promising that which a deity has already been offered during the course of a running (meaning any promises jotted down by each player must be retained, even once they’re crossed over upon fulfilment)

·         Characters can have only one outstanding promise to each deity at a time, though that promise can be further elaborated (increasing the amount, value or rarity of what is promised) on separate occasions

·         A character who, given the opportunity for even partial fulfillment, reneges on his promise to a deity will be penalized with permanent disadvantage on further interactions with that deity until ammends are made, either by fulfilling the promise belatedly or making good on another promise of similar or greater worth

Godly Favour

Mere mortals can occasionally pique the fleeting interest of a deity, achieving a temporary exaltation known as favour

·         Whenever a character favoured by a deity would lose esteem the player rolls the favour die instead, retaining the deity’s favour on any result other than “1”

o   If a “1” result comes up, the favour die is reduced by one size

o   Once the character ceases being favoured (a 1 in d4 is rolled), his stead with the deity is rolled anew on 2d6 as normal

·      Unlike esteem, being touched by divine favour becomes open knowledge to the player once the character gets the first use out of the blessing (who should then be noted down on the character sheet), though the character’s outwardly appearance belies nothing about this fact

·      A character cannot be favoured simultaneously by opposed deities

Godly Wrath

If the mortal oversteps his boundaries, interfering with the divine or demanding too much in return for too little, he may be struck down where he stands

·         Godly wrath is triggered:

o   When a character with a current esteem of “2” actively beseeches the offended deity (the rating by itself being inert until the god is called upon)

o   Immediately upon a natural “2” being rolled when a character takes an action displeasing towards a deity

·         The shape and violence of godly disapproval will vary widely with the individual deity, be it withered limbs, blindness, spontaneous combustion or lightning strike, the system for representing this is simply a roll on the dismemberment table – interpret any middling results as a warning shot or chalk them to intervention by a rival entity (a roll on less dice/applying a modifier may be justified, if the wrath was brought on by something truly heinous)

3.     Beseeching a Deity for Aid

In exchange for all of the above, the Powers can occasionally be called upon to intervene and tip the scales for their faithful

·         A deity can only be beseeched for aid relating to a domain over which it holds sway

·         The beseeched deity must be verbally adressed (minor action) as the referee verifies the character’s current standing with the deity, if the character is held in high esteem, aid is provided, otherwise none is forthcoming; In any event, the deity’s stance is immediately rolled anew by the referee, keeping the lowest result

o   The form of divine aid is not preestablished, but will generally consist of rerolls or Advantage on rolls associated with the domain, from guidance to the sword arm on an attack to a plea to placate inclement weather or a prayer to avert danger on a journey

·         If a group would collectively benefit from divine aid, it is only forthcoming if the majority of the group is held in good standing, with the consequent reduction in esteem applying to all of the characters; Those who are favoured count as a number of characters equal to the die size

·         The Gods like best those who help themselves: the esteem of a character who calls upon the same deity more than once in a single day is rolled down at Disadvantage (including any favour die rolls)

 

Closing Thoughts – finding further uses for the system

As it stands this is a pretty minimalist system but one with a fair margin for expansion, here are a few examples:

·         Certain items may require favour or that the faithful be held in high esteem to be usable

·         Some obstacles (barriers, traps, alarms) may interact differently according to the faith rating of those who trigger them

·         Conversely, certain supernatural creatures may react differently to characters held in high or low regard by a certain deity

o   E.g. certain undead targetting first those that the god of the underworld dislikes or beasts reacting positively to those favoured by a sylvan deity

·         Spells borne of divine magic may gain extra effects or target only certain characters in accordance to their standing with the divine