Monitors: armoury

In a adventure-romp game of secret agents and special forces, weapons are going to be important. Let's see what sort of things a Monitor might be dealing with. I'm picturing this as several broad groups with different types of effect. PCs can trade off between power and convenience, as well as between weapons effective against different targets. While extensive armoury lists are a common RPG thing, I may actually end up using few weapons than I've outlined below; to some extent I think a few well-distinguished weapons that people can use to define a character may be a better fit than a long list that turns into number-crunching or constant re-equipping.

Photon weapons

These weapons produce a brief, intense burst of light across a range of wavelengths, allowing them to dazzle a wide range of species, regardless of their visual organs. They are near-silent, and their safety makes them a favourite for policing.

• Flare pistol. Effectively a supercharged torch, the flare pistol sends a sharp pulse of light at a single target. In an emergency, it can be used to fight up surroundings, overload sensors or signal for help.
• Magnesium bomb. A grenade which releases a brilliant burst of light when triggered, dazzling onlookers.
• Photon cannon. A heavy photon weapon used in shock raids and to subdue wild beasts. It functions like a hypercharged spotlight, flooding the target area with a tight beam of brilliant light, with minimal overspill.

Force weapons

These weapons induce sympathetic kinetic impact in the target, acting like a physical blow. They range in effectiveness from light slap to sledgehammer, and auto-calibrate to the target's composition to avoid unwanted lawsuits.

• Blaster. A small handgun that can send an opponent reeling.
• Blast rifle. The mainstay of many a security force, this convenient and reliable weapon has a kick like a carthorse.
• Blast cannon. A heavy and powerful weapon that can send targets flying and buckle armour plating.

Shock weapons

These weapons produce a pulse of electricity, scrambling circuits or nervous systems and leaving targets slow and clumsy. More painful than photon weapons, their use is more heavily restricted, but they are particularly favoured for anti-robot use.

• Stunner. A lightweight melée weapon that zaps the target with a disabling pulse.
• Shock rifle. The gold standard in robot fighting, portable and devastating.
• EMP grenade. An disrupting weapon used to disable vehicles and computers, but equally useful against robots and tech-dependent organics.
• Suppression cannon. A heavy weapon used to quell riots, subdue packs of vermin and bring down large creatures that shrug off lighter weaponry.

Knockout weapons

These weapons use a mix of tranquilisers to subdue targets, rendering them slow and clumsy, and eventually unconscious. They are effective against most carbon-based lifeforms.

• Mister. Easily concealed in a pocket or fist, this is a favourite of both safety-conscious civilians and career criminals.
• Needler. This light weapon fires a minute hypodermic loaded with sedatives. Monitors and other specialists carry a range of ammunition types for unusual targets.
• Knockout grenade. Developed from crude gas grenades, this intelligent weapon directs a stream of nebulised sedative towards nearby targets.

Physical weapons

These weapons use direct physical force. They are mostly used as backup or in extremis.

Weapon effects

Some possible special rules:

• Unwieldy weapons suffer a penalty at close range and may be inconvenient at other times (more difficult to ready, harder to do other things while holding)
• Force weapons have reduced effect against oozes, rubbery creatures and so on, which can absorb and disperse the kinetic energy without harm.
• Shock weapons are more effective against robots and certain creatures. They create a blast if the target is in water, but if fired underwater, instead create a blast centered on the user.
• Gas weapons are ineffective against non-breathing targets.
• Disposable weapons are single-use.
• Chemical weapons rely on metabolism, and are ineffective against robots and certain creatures.

Most likely creatures can have associated keywords, and these determine vulnerability or resistance to weapons. I don't think it's necessary to go full-blown D&D Types on it.

Resistance to soft attacks (blind and slow) could work in one (or both) of two ways. The first is to simply decrease the die size, thus increasing the odds of the target recovering. The second is to allow a reroll. I'd need to run the maths on these to determine which is nicest.

Vulnerability to soft attacks has slightly different options. The first is to decrease the die size, thus reducing the odds of the target recovering. Unlike resistance, I really don't think rerolls are a good idea: this would leave a 1d10 blind as a 1/100 chance to recover, adding an extremely swingy factor to such creatures, which I'm not keen on. So my second option would be a simple one-time penalty, with the first success on the recovery roll being ignored. Again, maths is needed.

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Next time on Monitors - more fun with maths, as we take a look at wounding probabilities and the hit/wound interaction!

Monitors: I, robot

I've had a quick think about the general place of technology in Monitors, and now it's time for some specifics. So, cyborgs! How does one go about modelling cyborghood in an RPG?

Probably inspired by Deathwatch, and partly because I already mentioned an vocaliser implant for languages, I'm vaguely thinking of having a sort of standard payload for Monitors; a set of minor but useful implants and enhancements that all recruits receive. They would have a few set upgrades, and then select a small number of personalised ones to suit their character. The default kit will hopefully add a bit of flavour, while also offering plausible in-game reasons for things that are useful from a metagame perspective.

Standard Cybernetics

As default, Monitors receive:

• Vocaliser: allows articulation of all major lects, regardless of physiology. Narratively, this is a vital tool for a special response force, allowing them to communicate with the broadest possible range of people during the course of their missions, and providing assistance with covert operations where disguise or deception are called for. Metawise, it gives a plausible reason for Monitors to be able to talk to most NPCs without demanding an implausible "universal language" or hyper-accurate interpreter technology. It also allows that capability to be selectively disabled, and leaves open the possibility of species or individuals who can't be so readily understood - their language is simply too obscure.
• Auditor: tracks and records anatomical data, and provides feedback as appropriate. Narratively, this is as useful to monitors as similar tools are in real life to athletes, astronauts, soldiers, firefighters, medics and other people in dangerous situations. It keeps them aware of their state of health and energy levels. Metawise, this allows PCs to evaluate their condition in roughly the same way as players do.
• Mnemoniser: a supplementary memory chip that allows them to store and recall clues, contacts and notes. Narratively, this is just a more efficient version of a notepad or dictaphone, which can't be lost, stolen or copied, and can be used without noise or motion in covert situations. Metawise, it just makes it that bit more logical that PCs remember the clues they encountered during an adventure, and should encourage GMs to give prompts without hesitating over whether the PCs ever said they were making a note of the address. I'm picturing the mnemoniser as a sort of mental dictaphone, so it doesn't connect to the Monitor's senses - if they want to take pictures or record conversations, they need external tech. Certain electromagnetic effects can scramble or corrupt the chip, so amnesia plotlines are not completely out of the question.

Common Enhancements

• Neural jack: a nervous-system interface that can connect directly with technology, making many jobs easier and permitting bonding with mechas, command helms of large vessels, and similar devices.
• Nanofilters: minute medical devices that monitor and filter the bloodstream, breaking down toxins rapidly and boosting the immune system.
• Cybernetic eye: possible features include infra-red setting for night vision, photography (spliced to mnemoniser), rangefinger, motion tracker and optical filter to avoid glare.
• Cybernetic arm: possible features include increased strength, surgical implants, tool implants, built-in weaponry, thermal shielding, grappling line and collapsible shield.

I'm considering a distinction in the level of cybernetics, possibly creating some kind of augmetics/bionics distinction. Basically, low-powered cybernetics offer limited benefits but are hard to distinguish from the real thing. High-powered ones offer more and better benefits, but are increasingly obvious, which has disadvantages for concealment, disguise, and identification: it's hard to argue that your massive steel arm and glowing red eye are entirely normal, difficult to persuade the guards that you're just a passing beggar who happens to have expensive cybernetics, and almost impossible to convince them that you're not the same steel-armed red-eyed intruder they were told to arrest. Obviously, things like really obvious distinguishing features do tend to be handwaved in RPGs, but I think it's worth giving a bit of attention to nonetheless.

There will be other enhancements, of course, but these are the ones that came easily to mind.

Basically, I'm thinking that chargen will include characters making a series of selections. Skillswise, they'll get default skills plus a number of points to allocate. They'll select (I think) a couple of major spells, plus a couple of minor ones that might have niche utility, just to add interest. They'll get their basic cybernetics, and choose a number of extra enhancements. Finally, they'll pick equipment, which will probably include at least one artifact as well as weapons, armour and devices. There's just a bit of a question as to whether I have one set of options and that's basically it (minimal changes to character after creation) or whether they start off with slightly less stuff and get more assigned through successful completion of missions. This will alter the tone of the game somewhat. Either way, though, I plan to try and avoid the looting model, because it just doesn't fit with what I'm trying to do.

Monitors: technicalities

At this point, I seem to have something that roughly resembles a functioning system for Monitors, and should start thinking about trying to scrape together a top-secret alpha test of my game of anthropomorphic armoured warlock lizard cybo...

Oh yeah.

So as I stated in an earlier post:

Magic and technology are two key ways of interacting with the world. The conceit behind these two elements in Monitors is basically their contrast. Technology is modern, exciting, comprehensible, relatively shiny, mostly safe and mostly reliable: a product of the genius and hard work of countless experts. Magic is antediluvian, arcane and potentially sinister: scraps of secret knowledge that occasionally drift to the surface.

So in a game, I'd like these two to feel substantially different. I want technology (barring experiments and so on) to feel sleek, reliable, and generally cool. I want magic to feel exotic, mysterious, significant, and maybe a little subversive.

Referencing

Because I think it was helpful last time, I was planning to glance at some implementations of technology in other games. However, I fairly soon felt like it wasn't doing much - I've not actually played much in the way of sci-fi games, and speculating wildly on games I haven't played won't be helpful. So just the one for you.

Technology in Deathwatch

The Imperium of Mankind has a deeply suspicious, superstitious and ignorant attitude towards technology. As a result, while they possess technology capable of many marvellous things, they generally don't have the science to connect it all. Devices tend to have individual abilities, rather than forming part of a logically coherent set of capabilities across society. Most people have very limited understanding of technology, able to use devices through rote training rather than understanding, and entirely unable to maintain them short of the most basic field repairs. Even the scientifically literate tend to handle technology in highly ritualistic terms, knowing what has worked before and repeating it obediently, and mixing engineering with religion at all times. Devices are encrusted with holy symbols and sigils in the hopes of persuading them to function, expensive sanctified oils are used, censers wafted and even reboots administered with reverence. Much of the technology is beyond their capability to recreate, and must be maintained and studied constantly, in the vain hope of rediscovering lost knowledge.

In practice, much of the technology functions fairly readily (though I've mostly only encountered simple gear so far). There are jamming rules for weapons, and some are more prone to malfunctions than others, especially plasma weaponry. A distinctive feature of the universe is that alien species differ considerably in their take on technology. Orks have enthusiastic and ludicrous technology that works because they believe it will, but is astonishingly unreliable; Eldar have technology refined to amazing heights of elegance, though not mechanically better than anyone else; Necrons have "sufficiently advanced technology"; and Tau are an up-and-coming species whose freshly-researched technology is within (considerable) spitting distance of our real technology. Each take highlights a different kind of culture, and gives each race a different feel.

Pondering

So I'm looking for shiny shiny tech. What sort of traits will make technology feel like a sleek, safe, reliable counterpart to the twisting esoteries of magic?

Reliability

The general run of technology that characters encounter should be more or less perfectly reliable - and when it isn't, it should at least be predictable, and any problems should be explicable. I don't think it particularly undermines the reliability aspect if technology has limited charge, or can be countered in logical ways, or if sabotage causes an engine failure. What I don't want is for the technology to feel unpredictable and its results uncertain, because that's venturing too close to the tone of magic.

In mechanical terms, this is going to mean that things like malfunctions should be extremely rare, and I think also suggests that players shouldn't usually have to worry about things like batteries or ammunition. If you're always wondering whether your weapon will jam, it's hard to treat technology as an ever-reliable friend and ally, in the spirit of the cheery Golden Age science fiction I'm inspired by.

The natural exception here is plot-tech, which is an essential part of any sci-fi game. Monitors are very likely to be called in to investigate technological mishaps, or experimental technology. Similarly, freak accidents might render reliable tech unreliable in order to enable a plotline, such as the classic Deepjump-gone-awry or an engine failure that strands them on a remote world. To maintain the feel I'm looking for, the unusual nature of these occurrences should be emphasised by the GM - a solar storm affected the Deepjump engine, or perhaps a piece of space debris with an unusual chemical composition managed to pass through the shields and damage the engine (a potential plot hook in itself).

There are also a handful of cutting-edge or extreme technologies that are a big deal, in particular the intersystem and intergalactic Deepjumps that form part of the background to the setting. Deepjumps are inherently stressful, physically demanding and technologically complex, which is why they're such a rare event. Other alternatives exist, slower and safer. Here, the game can set up a pleasing contrast and mood, by emphasising the precautions and preparations necessary for a Deepjump, and the strain it places on the jumpers. Because everyday technology is so very reliable and safe, this should make Deepjumps feel special.

Comprehensibility and familiarity

It isn't at all necessary for players to understand the science in the game, or even for the science to be accurate (accurate science doesn't necessarily play well with adventure). However, the characters should be au fait with the technology they use, having a broad understanding of what it does and how it does it. This is sort of the converse of Deathwatch, where tech-use is a matter of rote learning and conviction, leaving tech mysterious and arcane. Essentially, in terms of social position, most Monitors technology should feel like the sort of everyday tech we take for granted ourselves - lighting, heating, transport, the Internet, plumbing - there when you need it. A hovercar chase through a city of spires is no more dangerous than a car chase, and almost certainly much less so, since the vehicles' AI systems will swerve them around civilians, while data networks will quickly try to clear the road. Making an intrasystem jump is no more of an event than taking a flight.

There are again a couple of deliberate exceptions to this rule. Rare alien technology may be beyond the understanding of the characters, either too advanced or simply too differently-conceived for its principles to make sense to them. In many cases, though, alien technology should be fairly straightforward to analyse and understand - it's using the same laws of reality, after all. The second exception is again extreme technology, which may be really understood only by a handful of experts and geniuses throughout the Universe. Again, Deepjumps are likely to be an example of this.

Maintenance

Given reasonable circumstances, characters should be able to repair most of the technology they use. All Monitors are trained in technology, and simple jobs like soldering, rewiring, fitting new powerpacks, sealing holes or swapping out circuit boards should be no problem for them. More advanced jobs will require a bit of time and training, but a Monitor with a medium to high Tech skill (or Science, if appropriate) should be able to fix most things, given sufficient time and resources.

Adaptation

It's hard to accept that science and technology are everyday parts of life if characters can only use what's put in front of them. To really accept that, you need to be able to take that technology and put it to new and unexpected uses. I think this comes in two parts. Firstly, creative use of technology should be encouraged, which means in GMing terms, being fairly generous about using things in unexpected ways. Secondly, characters should be able to use their skills to jury-rig devices out of what's available. Reversing polarities, aligning fields, feeding signals back into themselves to cancel them out, overcharging powerpacks and plugging primary education-level AIs into military mechs are classic bits of sci-fi that reinforce the idea that characters know about technology and are comfortable using it creatively. Generally speaking, I think creativity is one of the major signs that you actually understand something and can move beyond simply following procedures.

Shininess

This isn't strictly necessary - you could vary the aesthetics of the tech if you want - but the sort of clean-living optimism of classic sci-fi really calls for tech to be shiny, sleek and cheerful. Weapons should be rounded rather than spiky, and fire beams of gleaming energy rather than bolts of necrotic energy. Engines should roar enthusiastically and hurl vehicles forward on smokeless beams of blue light, rather than billowing clouds of sulphurous smoke. Machines should run on solar power, cold fusion and safe-for-children pseudofuels, rather than coal and fission and the souls of the living. Equipment should need little or no safety precautions, because it's just that well-engineered and goshdarned safe. And people should say things like "goshdarned" rather than turning the air blue.

This will have little direct mechanical impact. Things like fuel sources may make some difference in play, despite having no numeric effect - it's certainly easier to get solar power than coal. Things like combat descriptions, or the effects of accidents, will be affected by these aesthetic choices, although there's no reason why accidents can't in fact have nasty consequences for bystanders - flying shards of metal are, after all, flying shards of metal.

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Next time I will think about some actual examples of Monitors technology.

Marking for Pathfinder

In theory, this should be a quick exercise for interest.

I've played a little Pathfinder. A quick summary review:

• fine
• basically 3.5e so far as I played it
• the changes they've made seem pretty solid
• like the changes made to distinguish wizards and sorcerers more, and give them flavour
• goes some way to redressing the LWQW problem (but not far enough, I suspect)

A tangent!

So one of the things I keep noticing, especially with fantasy games, is that the wizard/nonwizard discrepancy is more than just power.

At the basic level, yes, many systems have an imbalance of power at just about every level: low-level spellcasters tend to suck, while later on they utterly eclipse their comrades in every conceivable sphere. Because spellcasting tends to work very differently from other activities, balancing the different subsystems seems to be an eternal problem - assuming people even want to 'solve' it, which is not necessarily the case.

The other aspect, though, is that there is often a huge discrepancy in how interesting or plain awesome characters are. Unfortunately, this discrepancy works in the same direction, partly because of an access-to-subsystem issue. Mundane characters can be very cool at fighting, slip silently through a roomful of guards, perform feats of acrobatics, smash through oaken doors, or suavely talk their way into the king's chamber. However, wizards can generally do a much wider range of things: they can summon demons, call down lightning, turn invisible, beguile and control enemies, hurl fire, conjure portals, repel monsters, breathe underwater, shapeshift, banish monsters, create or dispel illusions...

The thing is that there's only so many ways you can hit people with swords, and if you repeat the same tricks or descriptions they start to feel stale. The range of possibilities open to spellcasters is simply much larger. The difference is reinforced because generally speaking, wizards can have a bash at the kinds of things non-wizards can do (they have access to those subsystems), whereas nonwizards generally have no access to spellcasting, or in some cases can occasionally use magic items to call on those effects. The only major example I can think of is rogue trapfinding, which is sometimes restricted to rogues only, although of course this limit affects other mundane characters as well as spellcasters.

	Fighter	Thief	Mage
Shrug off attacks	Y		Y (magic)
Slay enemies in melée	Y	Y	Y (magic)
Slay enemies at range	Y	Y	Y (magic)
Disarm foes	Y	?
Trip, grab and inconvenience foes	Y	?
Break chests, fences and bars	Y		Y (by magic)
Leap over chasms and scramble up ropes	Y	Y
Sneak past guards		Y	Y (by magic)
Disable traps		Y
Open locked doors		Y	Y
Block enemy movement			Y
Control enemies			Y
Create illusory distractions			Y
Bypass magical wards			Y
Conjure allies			Y
Teleport			Y
Interact with objects at a distance			Y
Fly			Y
Restore the dead to life			Y
Heal the injured			Y (some)
Sense and locate quest objects, enemies or magic			Y
Protect against fire, drowning, cold or gravity			Y
Change form			Y
Sense the thoughts of others			Y

D&D 4E tackles the issue of power scaling, but can't overcome the interest factor - in fact in many ways, the power-based system just seems to highlight the discrepancy in interest, with spellcasters getting all kinds of exotic descriptions for their abilities, while everyone else gets some variation on 'you hit it with a sword'. I'm not sure there is any solution in a class-based system where only some characters have access to particular subsystems. I suppose you could have arcane talent massively hamper your physical capabilities, or else limit any mage to a small subset of abilities (though that would make the game tougher for everyone).

Anyway!

I had a passing thought that the marking mechanics used in D&D 4E did a reasonable job of giving the fighter a unique, flavourful and genuinely useful ability that isn't wildly unbalancing. The ability consists, in 4E mechanics, of several components (a bonus or two, a special ability and a power) but is fairly simple. In essence, it allows a fighter who has engaged a target to lock that opponent down, hampering their ability to attack others and restricting their movement, including their ability to retreat. As the fighter gains levels, they are more likely to successfully prevent a marked target from manoeuvring for advantage because they are better able to hit, and increasingly able to mark multiple enemies. Because they can mark a number of enemies at once, they can lock several targets into place.

It seems to me that it should be possible to translate this ability into Pathfinder, where it might add a bit more flavour to the Fighter, improve the still-somewhat-lacklustre abilities of the class (bonuses to weapon and armour are nice, but not especially exciting) but still refrain from overbalancing things. The rules are also basically usable in D&D 3.5, given the similarity of the two systems.

Complications

• Pathfinder has iterative attacks rather than one power per round, so the "makes an attack that does not include you as a target" needs some adjustment.
• I need to consider the hit point balance of the two games; it's possible that the damage dealt by a basic attack is trivial in D&D 4E but non-trivial in Pathfinder.
• I need to compare the attack of opportunity rules for the two games, and make sure I'm not either adding a useless ability or making this too powerful.
• 4E doesn't allow more than one mark on a target, largely (entirely?) for mechanical reasons. While marking is useful, a) I'm not convinced it's so powerful that the mechanics should override the logic that getting stuck between two people intent on killing you should be really bad news, when you can (for example) take ongoing damage from several spells simultaneously; and b) Pathfinder doesn't have the wide variety of marks and marklike abilities found in 4E, and so I think there's less complication likely.

Suggested rules

Marking (Ex)

Whenever a fighter attacks an enemy with a melée attack, regardless of whether the attack hits or misses, the target is marked until the end of the fighter's next turn. The fighter physically and psychologically impedes the target, blocking attacks and threatening to strike the moment their target is distracted. A fighter can have any number of marked opponents.

A mark lapses on the marked creature's turn if the fighter does not attack it during her own turn, or if the fighter is unable to take opportunity actions (or any actions).

While within the fighter's threatened range, a marked creature suffers a -2 attack roll penalty on all attacks that do not include the fighter as a target, as well as any Concentration rolls to cast a spell. The penalty increases by -1 at levels 4, 8, 12, 16 and 20.

Combat Obstruction (Ex)

From 3rd level, when the fighter hits with an attack of opportunity against a marked enemy, the target's movement ends immediately. The fighter does not have to invoke this ability, and can always choose to attack an enemy but allow them to continue moving.

Combat Challenge (Ex)

From 7th level, if a marked enemy makes an attack that does not include the fighter as a target, and has not yet attacked the fighter this round, the fighter can immediately make an attack of opportunity against them following the normal rules.

Combat Superiority (Ex)

From 11th level, when a marked enemy attempts to use a 5-foot step or withdraw action within the fighter's threatened area, she can make an attack of opportunity against them following the normal rules.

Combat Insight (Ex)

From 15th level, a fighter gains her Wisdom bonus as an insight bonus to attacks of opportunity and to her AC against opportunity attacks.

Combat Domination (Ex)

From 19th level, if a fighter misses with an opportunity attack against a marked target, it does not count towards the limit on opportunity attacks per round. In addition, the fighter cannot be flanked by a marked enemy. This defense denies a marked rogue the ability to sneak attack the fighter by flanking her, unless the attacker has at least four more rogue levels than the target has fighter levels.

Maths

So I did a quick number comparison by level. Early on, a 4E fighter has significantly more hit points and so inflicts proportionally little damage. As they gain levels, the Pathfinder fighter tends to gain more hit points per level and so edges ahead, until at high levels they are some way ahead (170hp versus 145hp, even without Con increases).

Let's assume a fighter with Constitution and Strength 16. For Pathfinder, she gets average 1d10 rolls of 5 & 6 and an automatic 10 for first level. For attacks, each has a compromise weapon of 1d10 with the expected per-level bonuses (about +1 per five levels). I'm ignoring Strength and Con boosts from levelling and gear because they should roughly cancel out. The table below doesn't show to 20th level because I'm lazy and it's a surprising amount of faff.

Level	4E fighter	MBA damage	Proportion	Pathfinder fighter	OA damage	Proportion
1st	31	8	26%	13	8	62%
2nd	37	8	22%	21	8	38%
3rd	43	8	19%	30	8	27%
4th	49	8	16%	38	8	21%
5th	55	9	16%	47	9	19%
6th	61	9	15%	55	9	16%
7th	68	9	13%	64	9	14%
8th	74	9	12%	72	9	13%
9th	80	9	11%	81	9	11%
10th	86	10	12%	90	10	11%
11th	92	10	11%	98	10	10%
12th	98	10	10%	99	10	10%
13th	104	10	10%	107	10	9%
14th	110	10	9%	108	10	9%
15th	116	11	9%	116	11	9%
16th	122	11	9%	117	11	9%
17th	128	11	9%	125	11	9%
18th	134	11	8%	126	11	9%
19th	140	11	8%	134	11	8%
20th	146	12	8%	135	12	9%

In general, though, I don't think there's much to worry about, for a couple of reasons. Firstly, the two scores are really very similar throughout, making only a percentage-point or two of difference between the effectiveness of an opportunity attack. Secondly, unlike the 4E fighter, my proposed Pathfinder version doesn't grant extra OAs until 7th level, at which point the two are basically even, especially in proportional terms. I've tried to split things up so that the early abilities are actually mostly useful to the fighter's allies, since at this stage fighters are relatively powerful as a class. It's only at 7th level that they are able to make attacks when they normally couldn't, and even this tends to benefit allies by punishing creatures for attacking them and drawing fire on the fighter. In fact, it's not until 11th level that the fighter gains anything that basically only benefits herself, allowing her to lock enemies into combat.

I also added a capstone ability at 19th level, partly just for symmetry. The OA retention is sort of nice because makes it harder for groups of enemies to outmanoeuvre her and reach her allies simply by running down her opportunity attacks. The flanking restriction plays into the whole idea of marking - you can't catch off guard a fighter who's marking you, because the whole point is they're focusing on you and controlling the flow of the combat. It shouldn't make a lot of difference at that level, given the size of bonuses likely to be in play, but just gives then a nice flavourful edge. Only rogues are seriously penalized by it, and it makes sense to me that a rogue facing off against a highly accomplished fighter is in trouble, because they're fighting on the fighter's terms rather than their own.

Oh, and unlike 4E, I decided the mark should scale somewhat with level, since the idea is to persuade enemies to attack the fighter by making it inconvenient to do anything else. I'm not 100% sure either way whether it's better or not. The main effect is likely to be on spellcasters.

I had to decide between "fighter can Challenge all attacks" and "retain 4E model", and went for the latter. This does mean that a creature can make a weak attack against the fighter before turning elsewhere. However, iterative attacks should still be taken in order (so the fighter gets the worst of it), and for multi-attack creatures it basically makes sense that they can hold off the fighter with their claw while they snap at the cleric, or whatever.

So there you go, hope it's interesting.

Monitors: linguistics

A quick bit of setting for you. It's way too long since I Monitored.

So I thought I'd start fleshing things out with the most obvious starting point: inventing some languages.

What?

Stop looking at me like that.

Languages in Monitors

The classic model for sci-fi settings - and just about every setting, actually - assumes a single lingua franca (Common, or Galactic, or whatever) which everyone can use to communicate. This is (from a certain point of view, although not that of a linguist!) a nice idea, but I think it works a lot better when you're basically dealing with humans with pointy ears and/or wobbly foreheads, who can be believed to have broadly similar vocal apparatus.

Animals are a different story, though; as would aliens logically tend to be. There is huge variation in the kinds of vocalisations animals can produce, based on pretty fundamental bits of physiology like tongue flexibility, existence of vocal chords and the plumbing of the respiratory system. Moreover, some animals don't use oral communication at all, but have other methods of making noise.

I do want to play up the "actual biology" bits of Monitors, as I've tried to do with the reptiles, and so after some thought, I think it makes sense to assume a number of standardised languages based on the noises creatures are physically capable of producing. While systems, planets and countries will continue to have their own languages, which may be completely different from these linguas franca, most creatures with some connection to galactic civilisation will be able to communicate somewhat in their most suitable lingua franca.

For now, I'm just going to call these Lects. I might come up with a better term later on, who knows? Trouble is, I can probably come up with something I enjoy, but not everyone wants to try and pronounce Greek-based linguistic terminology, y'know?

The lects, therefore, are a group of broad standardised formal, well, lects. They are all artificial; each one is a compromise language based simply on the physiological capabilities of groups of creatures, largely on the sounds they are capable of producing and perceiving. Lects are quite flexible, and so different groups of speakers will produce sounds at very different pitches, very different speeds, or sometimes in very different ways - the important thing is that they can produce equivalent sets of sounds in order to communicate systematically. While there will be creatures brought up speaking any given lect, most have another native language (or several) and learn the lect as part of their general education.

Note that the various animal groups mentioned below aren't game-mechanical ones, they're just to give an idea of the kind of creatures I'm thinking of.

Tsiririk

Tsiririk is a language of chirrups, twitters and chittering. Many of its speakers have no lips, while others have limited flexibility around the mouth. Speakers include avians, rodentians and cetaceans.

Roowaa

Roowaa is highly tonal, with a large pool of liquids and very few other consonants, as speakers tend to have no fine control of the tongue. Growls, howls and yelps are common. Speakers include canine, feline, simian and ursine creatures.

Hhiishkh

Hhiishkh is known chiefly for its shortage of vowels, plosives, and other typical features. Its speakers have no vocal chords, and struggle to produce anything other than buzzes, hisses and whirrs. Speakers include many insectoid and reptilian creatures.

Rrrkrr

Rrrkrr is a highly resonant language, constructed for those creatures whose vocal organs rely on rasps and booms. Anurans are the best-known speakers, but some avians, ruminants and vegetable-based lifeforms are well-suited to Rrrkrr.

Auumn

Auumn is a consonantless and highly tonal language, consisting of a wide variety of vowels, hums, whistles and groans. Most speakers are from aquatic genera, as such sounds are well-suited to underwater conversation. Speakers include ceteceans, pisceans, bovines, some avians, porcines, some insectoids and proboscideans.

Poachak

Poachak has the widest variety of consonants, and is used by creatures with highly-developed vocal tracts that can accomodate this range. Most speakers are avians, particularly corvids and psittacines.

Binary

Some creatures have very limited ability to produce sound, and rely on patterns of noise rather than the sounds themselves. They include some creatures whose preferred communication is not sound-based, but have learned to grunt or tap out patterns, to gesture rhythmically or to pulse with colour. It is often slow, but some creatures can speak it with astonishing speed. Robots often speak binary, as do cephalopods and some energy-based lifeforms.

As well as lects, there are many local languages. Some are simply local variations (to varying degree) of the lect, while others are completely different and sometimes species-specific.

Oh, and finally...

Mesoglyphic

While conversation between different species can be problematic, there does exist a common written language, used for official purposes throughout most of the known universe. This allows drawing up of treaties and contracts, exchange of science and other important information, and fairly rapid contact between educated individuals who can't physically speak the same language. There are visual, tactile, sonic, thermal and olfactory variants of mesoglyphic that make it readable by just about all intelligent species, and common technology can translate readily between these forms.

Language mechanics

Although the various lects are very divergent, some species have the physiology to learn more than one lect, especially with the use of technology to hear or produce the appropriate sounds. As such, Monitors characters can potentially learn any of the lects. I may decide that Monitors cybernetics includes a vocaliser, issued to all recruits, which allows them to translate their knowledge of a language into the correct sounds. Thus, a chelonian Monitor (normally limited to Hhiishkh or Binary) could study Auumn and Tsiririk, and rely on the vocaliser to actually speak it.

All Monitors characters automatically speak, read and write a native language of their choice. All player characters, and all educated or cosmopolitan NPCs, also speak a related lect at Advanced level. Less educated NPCs may speak their lect at only Conversational level, and a few (especially primitive or isolated groups) speak little or no lect, only their own languages.

Languages (including lects) can be understood at three levels (four, if you include "nothing"): Basic, Conversational and Advanced. These are pretty much what they sound like. Basic allows you a tourist knowledge of the language. Conversational allows you to chat to people comfortably, but you don't understand complex forms of the language like colloquialisms, high literature, ritualistic or archaic forms, and technical terminology. Advanced knowledge means you're fluent and can handle all the intricacies of the language, although of course your abilities are still limited by your education and general knowledge; you may miss the implications of a quote if you don't have the cultural background, or not understand a piece of technical jargon if you haven't studied the subject.

During basic training, Monitors acquire Basic competence in all the lects. They can select four additional ranks of language from across the range available. For other lects and languages, they must rely on translators or technology. Monitors translation technology is somewhat better than ours, but still leaves a lot to be desired, and so only limited communication is possible; there are no Universal Translators.

All Monitors, and educated NPCs, can read and write visual and tactile Mesoglyphic fluently. NPCs with technical or administrative jobs, in any uniformed services, or in cosmopolitan areas, also tend to have fluent or good knowledge of Mesoglyphic. Poorly-educated NPCs may know only a a smattering, and those living in remote areas may not understand it at all.

Using languages

Quite how language works depends on two major things: how much time you have available, and the effects of failure.

Under normal circumstances, no rolls are necessary - you simply understand the language at the level you are capable of.

Given enough time, patience and resources (and potentially willingness to do ridiculous charades) you can increase your effective level by one in terms of the information communicated, although it won't improve people's evaluation of your linguistic ability. You are likely to miss some nuances even so.

If you're not in control of the situation, and trying to deal with information above your competence level, the GM may allow a roll on whatever skill seems appropriate. Examples include:

• trying to communicate urgently
• eavesdropping
• addressing someone who can't ask for clarification

In general, a success will convey a little more information than you could normally manage, but a failure may lead to a misunderstanding. As such, it is often safer to stay within your comfort zone.

Some very belated Hellcats thoughts

You know what nobody's expecting a post about? Hellcats and Hockeysticks.

Dan has already discussed some of the technical aspects of the game, and you will of course remember my article about running it. But for some reason I ended up giving it a bit more thought recently.

Concerns

Cliques

The idea of 'cliques' plays a reasonably significant part in the game, as they're a kind of class-equivalent for the girls. Dan had a few misgivings about the use of class here, but it didn't especially bother me as such. However, I did and do think it's an inappropriate tool for what they're trying to do, which is give each girl a special flavour while also representing some (perceived?) subgroups within teenage girl society.

The problem here is that cliques, by their very nature, are a groups. You cannot be a clique of one. Moreover, cliques are generally perceived to be exclusionist and insular, except where they go around being mean to non-members. This means it doesn't really make sense to create a party consisting of four people with widely-varying tastes who are specifically marked for their habit of hanging around with other people just like them.

I'm honestly not sure what the designers thought they were modelling, or whether they simply wanted to represent a range of likely girl-types and didn't really think about party composition. The only situation I can really think of where you tend to get these rag-tag bunches of wildly different individuals are where it's forced on you. It can happen in school, admittedly, because you pick the same subject or get assigned to the same detention pool or whatever.

In fiction, though, which is where H&H is trying draw its inspiration, the usual situation where this happens is when something goes wrong. The school gets invaded by aliens, or the whole class are stuck in the mountains when the bus breaks down. An unlikely bunch of people with the right skills are forced to step up to the wicket, confront and abandon their prejudices, learn to work together for the good of all, and learn some very special lessons about difference, respect and friendship that will undoubtedly leave them all getting along well in the closing credits. Importantly, what happens here is that people's usual social preferences are broken down somehow, either because their friends are absent or injured, or their friends turn out not to be up to the challenge, and they're forced to associate with a different group of people.

Unfortunately, that doesn't sound anything like the game presented to you here. H&H is specifically about a group of friends who regularly hang around together, getting up to mischief and squabbling for status and giving other people grief. The group mechanics rely entirely on that idea. It's far more so than things like St. Trinian's tend to be, but fits in with the other source material like Enid Blyton and Mean Girls. You aren't reluctantly working together to achieve a short-term goal.

As well as the logical confusion, I'm mildly concerned that cliques encourage you to end up with characters whose abilities are very divergent. This tends to make working together difficult, because one party member is very athletic and has no social skills, one is incredibly eloquent and clumsy as hell, and one walks like a shadow and can't climb over a low stile. While this range can be useful in some situations (and often works in things like D&D), you're reasonably likely to end up with the whole group having to make the same checks together, and at least one person always likely to fail.

Suggestions

So I'm not especially planning on running any more H&H, but if I were, here's some things I'd consider changing around a bit.

Cliques

Obviously. The most straightforward change I can think of that retains a bit of the original flavour is to fork this out into two separate concepts, cliques and niches. Unfortunately, both would need rebuilding.

Cliques would take on their obvious place as a party-level mechanic. Think of it (if it helps, which it probably won't) as a sort of vague equivalent to things like party alignment or guild affiliation. All members of the group are part of the same clique, which indicates the general kind of attitude, demeanour, style and taste they share that lets them work together socially. The choice of a clique would not only determine your broad skillset, but also to some extent indicate the kind of game you hope to play.

While the details would want some tweaking, some original cliques should be recyclable here. I reckon Goth/Emo, Hockey Girl, Nerd and Prefect are all usable, while you could also construct Socialite and something like Hipster, and perhaps a vaguely Hippy/Artistic sort of thing. In a normal school you'd have a social group of ne'er-do-wells, but of course, that's everyone. The group's clique would determine which skills they can take to level 5, and some kind of special ability they share. This has the advantage of meaning the group are likely to be good at a broadly similar set of things, and therefore well-suited to doing things together, as you tend to want from a party. It won't mechanically enforce it, but each clique suggests certain kinds of skillsets to the reader, and so you're inclined to pick what seems appropriate.

Oh, and just in passing, let me banish "Japanese Exchange Student" to the outer darkness where it belongs.

Niches are personal. The simplest way I can think of to explain this is the Spice Girls. They are all Spice Girls. But one of them is Sporty, one Scary, one Baby, one Posh, and of course, one Ginger. Your niche indicates some of the things that mark you out as an individual within your group of friends, even while you share a lot in common.

From the original clique list, I would probably adapt Sweetheart, Coquette and Fixer into niches, maybe Scientist, and look for another couple to add. It would broadly depend whether you want niches to represent generic individual traits, or specifically to mean the role that characters falls into in their group of friends. Either way, niches would grant individual special abilities, and perhaps one extra skill, which allow characters to shine in their element, without restricting them from working together.

Skill blagging

The skills used in the game are almost entirely, but irritatingly not quite, based around rough version of school subjects. In theory this is quite fun, but in practice the way actions are allocated the skills leaves you with some quite unintuitive links. For example, Track and Field is about stealth as well as athletics, while Economics turns you into a haggling machine but doesn't cover actual finance or indeed any kind of theory (Maths covers that). There's also the odd fish of Observation, not a well-known school subject. Music has precisely one use, playing music. Several skills are mostly relevant if you're using the bolt-on rules.

My proposal here would be to drop the descriptions more or less entirely, and let the players make the case for whatever skill they want to use. After all, the game specifically emphasises that it's looking to depart from the usual formal player-GM relationship, and have players wheedle or otherwise influence the Headmistress to get their way! It seems to me that having skill use based on blagging it would be both fun and highly in keeping with the school theme - talking the talk was a fairly significant school skill from what I remember.

I might also consider (but not necessarily go through with) slightly revising the skills. One possibility would be to have "Academic" and "Vocational" skills, for example. This might help deal with some of the wobblier things like sneakery, which are expected in RPGs (and very useful in a ne'er-do-wells game) but don't fall naturally into any of the subjects (no, not even Track and Field).

Relationships

The game sets you up with a single best friend, plus a group of people you hang around with but don't particularly like, apparently. That's not strictly what they say, but that's sort of the impression you get when a game asks you to list what you dislike about them.

As we discussed on our podcast, one of the mechanical reasons this is a problem is that before the game starts you have no idea what any of the other characters are like, and so no way to pick really suitable dislikes. It doesn't necessarily matter, as dislikes aren't necessarily logical, but it's awkward.

If we want to avoid completely ditching an idea from the books, I might instead suggest something that, to my surprise, is influenced by Fiasco. Rather than the likes and dislikes, characters might define how they see their relationship with each of the other characters - this could be freeform or chosen from a list of suggestions. Other possibilities (all requiring a certain amount of character-introduction beforehand):

• Why do you hang around with each of the others?
• Who in the group do you feel closest to?
• Who in the group do you look up to? Down on?

Alternative friendships

To be honest, though, for a game I'd run, since this is supposedly your group of friends and (as far as I am aware) girls too prefer to associate with people they basically like, I would consider doing this differently.

First, pick a 'best friend' from a group, and possibly a 'least best friend' just to set up some relationships - might be someone you don't quite get, or tend to quarrel with, look down on a bit (like a younger kid), or find mildly exasperating. Again, best to have a bit of idea what everyone's like before you do it (maybe play for a while first?), but this sort of relationship can be quite vague, so your best friend might be anywhere from an actual intimate buddy to someone you respect or secretly idolise (or indeed fancy) and want to please.

Then, very briefly create someone(s) you don't like within the school, which might be a teacher, non-teaching staff or (preferably) another pupil. Although it could also be, say, someone's boyfriend. This would offer some of the same possibilities for rounding out your own character, without seeming to define someone else's character or emphasising the negative side of your group's relationships. It would also offer some plot and RP potential that isn't tied into any written scenario, allowing these characters to be pulled in, but not forcing them on the game.

Deathwatch: The Price of Hubris, part 01

Just about a year ago, I sat down for a Deathwatch game with the usual suspects. I'd recently bought a voice recorder, and we decided we might as well give recording a shot. For various reasons, not much happened for the last year, but I've now finally finished editing the ten-odd hours of material we ended up with, and am inflicting it upon the innocent public.

Heads-up

As you will quickly gather, we have an affectionate but irreverent take on the Warhammer 40,000 universe. The podcast isn't exactly family-friendly, but is more or less canonical. There is swearing, juvenile humour and terrible accents. You have been warned.

We've done some podcasting before, but we were there to play a game rather than record a show, and so it's an ambient recording rather than a tightly-miked production with sound engineers and retakes. There is rattling of dice, and rustling of wrappers, and eating of goujons. Unfortunately, as the first session was played on a hot summer's day, there's also some traffic noise. I've tried to edit these things out where they were particularly objectionable, but of course in many cases noises cropped up at the same time as people talking. On the plus side, there are no dogs!

The podcast contains spoilers for, funnily enough, The Price of Hubris from The Emperor Protects.

The Episode

Three Imperial Fists, freshly promoted to full membership, are sent to a newly-rediscovered world, with orders to investigate some strange murders, persuade the locals to fully accept Imperial rule, and find some suitable new recruits for their Chapter. This episode covers the later stages of character generation, some background and an introduction to the mission.

Link to Episode 01.

We spent a huge amount of time 'shopping', which I offer here as a bonus episode for anyone really interested in that sort of thing.

Link to Episode 01b.

I can't help noticing, on listening to this, that we all very quickly forgot the full details of our armour history, and just kept the basic bonus. I should have been making some calls on when to wear my helmet, which is a pretty serious issue considering the value of armour in this game.

I Capture the Castle (By Magic)

So Shannon has just written an article about traps and fortifications for her WOD-mechanised Fianyarr setting over at ST Wild, and these are things that I have spent a little time on myself. Well, traps I’ve already written more or less to death (at least in the absence of any brain-inspiring conversations), but fortifications have remained on my to-write list ever since a conversation with Dan about a year ago. Time to get cracking.

The story Dan mentioned was, I reckon, a fairly common one – a party of moderate-level D&D characters assaulting a castle by using transmute rock to mud to break through the walls. I’m not sure, at this point, whether it was the classic small party of heroes making a tactical incursion into the castle, or whether they brought an army of some size along with them, but it’s not too important. This is a very sensible tactic for a magic-wielding party to use to avoid a pitched battle with entrenched defenders using expensive fortifications to their advantage.

The problem I have is that it allows a magic-wielding party to avoid a pitched battle with entrenched defenders using expensive fortifications to their advantage.

This is not a GM issue for me, but rather a setting one. Most versions of D&D and similar fantasy genres assume a reasonable amount of magic – the wealthy have magical items and sometimes wizards on retainer, skilled warriors tend to have magical swords, and so on. Often the use of magic in wars is explicitly mentioned – there are a few fantasy books where wizards steer clear of mundane conflict, but these tend to have an otherworldly kind of wizard that doesn’t really lend itself to RPGs. So I think it’s safe to say that if you’re a landowner or warlord considering castle-building options, you can assume that at the very least the kind of people likely to want to conquer you will have access to serious magic, and very likely that far less well-resourced adversaries will have magical capabilities.

Castles are not cheap. A mediaeval castle could easily cost a third of a king’s annual income. Rochester Castle apparently cost £3000 pounds, while William the Conqueror had about £10,000 per year to spend, and a skilled labourer earned 2p per day. That’s 360,000 times the labourer’s earnings.

In AD&D terms, the labourer’s 2p is probably equivalent to a 1sp Sapper/Miner, which makes a castle around 36,000 gp – however, the rules give 500,000 for a Castle, so there are a few economic differences.

So anyway, you have your 100,000gp fortress, equipped with all manner of defences, expensive veteran soldiers and so on and so forth. And here’s a wizard with a 5th-level spell, which as a minimum can obliterate a 180’ stretch of your wall within a minute or so from 100 yards away. You still have to deal with some of the guards, of course, but you can bypass the main defences, take the castle by surprise, and very likely kill or incapacite many of the guards in the process of spellcasting. On a simpler level, a reasonably enterprising thief could obtain scrolls of passwall, or simply charm person, for a minimal cost compared to the takings to be had.

There's no specific cost given in the AD&D rulebooks, but even the most expensive equivalents would put a hired caster at no more than 10,000gp, which will render the fortress virtually useless for one-tenth the price of building it. In 3.5, it would be a mere 6,600gp while the Castle would be around 500,000gp! Who could resist?

The spell itself transmutes a 20’ cube per level of the caster, and walls may well be higher than this; but removing the bottom 20’ of a wall tends to rather disturb the higher portion. The spell is equally effective on towers of any height; in fact, the higher the tower, the more damage you can cause by toppling it. This is even assuming the castle is not – as they usually are – built on a rocky pinnacle, in which case you could transmute the rock itself without even approaching the castle, and quite possibly demolish the whole thing in perfect safety.

This is just one example of the power of magic against fortifications: passwall is another obvious example, while fly or invisibility allow individuals to bypass defences and wreak havoc. Even simple charm and sleep spells can eliminate guards near-instantly or turn them traitor (and it’s a fantastic defence for anyone thinking of actually committing treachery). Generally speaking, people do not spend vast fortunes on military projects that they expect to be completely ineffectual against inexpensive and relatively safe attacks; we don’t build stone castles or wear plate mail any more. Military practice changes to accomodate the available technology. In other words, in a setting where magic is prevalent, it makes no sense for expensive, long-term slow-to-build military-level fortifications to be unprotected against magical assault. Either they would be magically hardened, or else they would simply not be built.

In fact, if magic is fairly widespread, I would even suggest it’s more likely that fortifications would be physically primitive but magically warded, than that they’d be reinforced stone with no magical protection – that’d be the equivalent of forgetting to put a door on your castle.

In the rest of this article, I'm going to rely mostly on examples from various editions of D&D, as I don't want to try and find examples from systems I don't actually understand, and also out of laziness. A fair amount of the points in this article could be applied more broadly, to issues like law enforcement and border control, but I'm not going to go into those here.

Magical threats

Magic poses a number of threats to the typical mediaeval castle, which I’ll vaguely group for simplicity. Some are extensions of existing strategies, some parallel more modern developments, and some are completely novel.

Before I get into specifics... part of the effectiveness of magical siegebreaking is that spells often allow the caster to act at significant range, allowing them to lurk in nearby undergrowth, hide within a regiment, or even wreak havoc from the other side of a river without exposing themselves to attack. This is exacerbated by the benefits of other protective spells. For example, a wizard can use invisibility to approach a fortress unseen, backed up with stoneskin in case they somehow get spotted; they then have very little to fear in wandering right up to the fortress to demolish a wall or conjure up a demonic horde.

In general, wizards combine a number of different powerful abilities. Flight alone would not enable a fighter to conquer a castle, invisibility keeps you safe but doesn't accomplish anything, and fireballs can't easily bring down a castle to get at the chewy centre. The combination, however, is devastating.

Demolition

I’ll start with this because it’s the example that inspired this article. There are an array of spells that allow a spellcaster (or anyone with suitable magical items) to wreak havoc on a fortification, often with minimal personal risk. I’ve already mentioned transmute rock to mud, which is probably the best bet in terms of result and casting level. Disintegrate is far less powerful, but can overcome even magical protections. These roughly parallel real-life demolition equipment.

Moving away from real-life options, control weather can potentially lay waste to large fortified areas, and at least can severely batter the inhabitants and damage structures. Earthquake is devastating, but very high-level. Move earth can render ditches and moats worthless without a single casualty. Even plant growth can potentially cause serious problems.

Infiltration

Force is one thing, but often your objectives can be through subtle means, most of which have no real-life parallel. If you’re interested in removing a perceived threat, or forcing a fortress to surrender rather than actually killing people, then assassination may be a better bet. Magic can easily allow you to enter a fortress without detection. The classic is invisibility, though that has a few loopholes – guard dogs, for example, with their keen sense of smell. Various forms of transmutation, from polymorph to being a druid, allow you to take on shapes that won’t arouse suspicion, be it impersonating a member of the guard or becoming a raven. You could turn into smoke and pass through keyholes to your target’s bedroom, or become an ooze to slide quietly through an arrow slit. Earth elementals can swim through solid rock.

As well as direct methods, infiltrators can potentially steal or copy keys, sabotage artillery, spill acid in armouries, poison or drug food and wells, spread magical disease, or even weaken walls from the inside (perhaps from a location that’s hard to access without magic, or rarely visited). Any of these would make a later attack much more effective.

The disguise-based options rely to some extent on the same techniques as real-life infiltration, and some mundane precautions may render them ineffective. Thus, key locations within a castle are likely to demand passwords (changed regularly), magically screen visitors, check fingerprints, or otherwise test identities. Such locations may include treasuries, armouries, prisons, stores (poisoning food and wells are well-known strategies), the quarters of important residents, libraries (important in a magical setting) and temples.

Compromise

Of course, attacking or laying waste to a castle isn’t always the best bet. Maybe you want it yourself? Maybe you just don’t like violence. There are various spells which offer peaceful solutions to siege warfare.

Our old favourite is sleep, which has quite limited effect but can easily take out a crucial nest of guards, allowing you to nip up a ladder or (if you time it right) slip through the gate they didn’t have time to close. Charm spells can last for weeks, and a canny caster could waylay castle residents one at a type, charming a few per day to ensure their decisive strike goes completely unchallenged. More directly, a simple stinking cloud, fear, web or hypnotic pattern can render significant numbers of guards useless and are easy to cast. In fact, well-timed use of a single hypnotic pattern (24 hit dice of creatures) could well disable an entire garrison.

My (limited) research into castles suggests that standing garrisons in “classic” castles really were much smaller than typically portrayed; castles on the rebellious Welsh borders typically had up to forty men, and often far less, down to just a handful when the lord was absent. Smaller garrisons are cheaper, and require less food in a siege, so you want the smallest garrison that can reasonably hold a place. During wartime, with levies or reinforcements, somewhere from 60-150 seems to have been more common, with occasional surges where part of a nearby army joined the defenders temporarily. Later soft-sided castles, built with sloping banks of earth against the walls to survive artillery fire, were easier to attack and required larger garrisons. It’s hard to say what’s more appropriate for a typical pre-gunpowder fantasy setting with its array of magical and supernatural ‘weaponry’.

Reconnaissance

Knowledge is power, and in tactical terms, knowing the strength and nature of your enemy is a good start to defeating them. Magic allows an attacker to scout out all kinds of useful information about a fortification, depending on the time available. On a basic level, anything from scrying to familiars to fly or an invisible scouting run allows you to examine the layout of a castle, the defences it mounts at various strategic points like gates and towers, and the strength of the garrison –without alerting the enemy and giving them time to prepare. These are useful both for planning an invasion and for directing ordnance.

With more time to prepare, you can gather even more information. Scryers or hidden scouts can observe training, defensive drills and the quality of the garrison. The habits of important individuals can be determined, and which parts of the castle are rarely used or attract little attention. Guard routines can be recorded, and stealth attacks planned for those times where the most lacklustre guards will be on watch. And of course, you can find out how practical it is to attack the castle at all – if they have a lot of supplies it may be best to go elsewhere, leave a small guarding force to trap them and move on, or try one of the infiltration tactics.

Breaching

There are a number of ways for magical attackers to simply bypass a castle’s defences, leaving them fighting perhaps a couple of dozen soldiers. These can be devastatingly effective.

To begin with, one person who gets inside can allow in large numbers by various methods. The wizard might use invisibility, flight, disguise self or charm to get inside, or simply pose as a harmless visitor (or ally) until their treachery begins. The oldest trick in the book is opening a side door, though a decent wizard can likely also seize control of the main gate if they wish. However, the defenders have a chance to spot the attackers as they approach the castle, as it’s very difficult to bring up an army (or even a sizable strike force) stealthily. Far more dangerously, a conjurer doesn’t even need a nearby army, but can unleash all manner of hideous creatures on the guards. In AD&D, a 5th-level wizard can summon 2d4 monsters to overwhelm guards or create a distraction. Later editions are far more generous: even an Int 10 5th-level D&D 3.5 wizard can summon at least six monsters (if they go for the highest available level), or as many as 1d4+2d3+4 creatures of minimal level., including things like swarms that have unlimited durations and are a big threat to low-level creatures.

Next, there are the actual bypass spells. I already mentioned transmute rock to mud, which can be used in a more subtle way to do this; but spells like passwall and phase door are literally designed for this, won't raise the alarm, and won't cause unwanted damage to the castle you're conquering. Particularly useful for things like the Great Wall of China, where you have no real interest in possessing the fortification and simply want to get past it.

Finally, you can simply teleport inside. This is actually less useful than passwall unless you know how to reach a really vital part of the castle, since your carrying capacity is usually quite limited, while a wall-passing spell can let hundreds of soldiers through.

Flight

This is such a massive divergence from mediaeval reality that I think it does deserve a bit of special attention.

We still don't have personal flight capability in the modern world, but we have had observation balloons, air recon corps, parachutists, helicopters, and of course a ton of aerial bombardment. Each of these made a big difference to tactics (though I don't pretend to be an expert on military history). Flying observation platforms provided long-range information on troop movements and dispositions in relative safety. Parachutes and helicopter drops allowed troops to appear behind enemy lines, avoid kill-zones and minefields, go right to strategic objectives without fighting through enemy troops, and reinforce or resupply ongoing battles (including sieges, of course). Bombardment allowed the flying side to disrupt or devastate the enemy in relative safety, since they're out of reach of many weapons - and missiles are the ultimate expression of this.

Now imagine how this would go down in a fantasy setting.

One major point is that fantasy tends to have very few long-range weapons, and virtually none suited to direct fire. Bows are all very well for horizontal fighting, but badly-suited to shooting targets far overhead.

Secondly, wizards tend to combine flight with the most devastating and long-ranged attacks in the game. A D&D wizard may be able to fly, while also casting fireballs from hundreds of feet above - many times the effective range of even a longbow. At the crudest, a 5th-level wizard can fly for five minutes, hovering just outside longbow range and blasting the defenders with infallible magic missiles that can easily slay an ordinary soldier. If they wish, preparing only fly and several magic missiles each day, they could wipe out a typical castle single-handed by doing this for a week. If they have any concern at all about getting hurt, a simple invisibility will solve that problem.

But a third and major point is that fantasy has a ton of creatures (even aside from wizards) that, unlike non-extinct real-life ones, combine two or more of these features:

• Capable of flight
• Intelligent
• Reliably capable of killing a human

This is to say nothing of the devastating fantastical abilities of many creatures, such as hypnotism, breathing fire, acidic blood, invisibility and so on, which are qualitatively different from what (say) a lion can pull off.

Dragons are the most obvious example - there's basically no point building a fortress to protect what's inside from a dragon, if you have an open courtyard. But even ordinary towns might have looked rather different if they not only had to worry about wolves getting at the livestock, but also griffons, so a simple fence around the town would not have sufficed. If sieges regularly featured summoned stirges, celestial eagles or mephits swooping down on the defenders and slipping into the castle itself, people would begin to think about ways to keep them out. Even more so if invaders are liable to turn up on pegasi or wyverns.

Just in passing, let's also note that fantasy settings may also feature creatures that can burrow effortlessly through earth or solid rock, water elementals that can readily travel through normal water, and things that can just plain old walk through walls.

Psychology

Another aspect of magic, which is probably easy to overlook, is the psychological effect. Psychology has always been important to sieges, from pretences at abandoning the siege, to catapulting mutilated bodies inside, to delivering fake letters authorising the defenders to surrender.

The subtle or dangerous effects of magic could be extremely influential on people's mindset. Given the potential for death from above, any speck in the sky might cause guards to panic in case a wizard is coming to incinerate them. The capability of a single individual to conjure up armies or obliterate whole swathes of guards seems likely to provoke concern pretty much on the level of modern anti-terrorism measures. But illusion and enchantment magic are even scarier. Not only is there the usual possibility of an imposter or traitor, but even someone who you definitely know to be absolutely loyal can be controlled with a snap of a wizard's fingers, forced to stand idly by, open gates, reveal passwords, or even attack their lifelong friends. Consider the damage those ideas could wreak on the mind once the possibility was suggested, and the ensuing paranoia. You wouldn't even necessarily have to actually do any magic. A whisper of wizardry might be enough to completely destroy morale.

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This is really long now, so I'll save discussion of what castle-builders might do for another time.

Inspirations: the Sands of Time, part nine

So I spent quite a while last time trying to hammer the ideas I'd had into something functional, and I think it probably is a workable system. But I'm pretty sure there's something slicker out there, and I'd like to give it another go.

General

Play proceeds around the table in a round, during which each player takes a turn.

Doing stuff

You have three Focus per round, each represented by a d6. Each point of Focus committed to an action allows you to roll one of your Focus dice towards that action. Each die is a separate roll.

Any Focus unused at the end of the round is lost.

Unopposed actions

Unopposed actions are those dependent on your skill, not directed against a sentient opponent. To succeed, you must equal or beat a Difficulty number ranging from 1-6. Actions with Difficulty 1 require effort or time but do not present a challenge to player characters; no die roll is required, and thus no Momentum is generated.

Sample Difficulties:

• Run to cover ground quickly; Leap onto a table or low wall; Pull yourself onto a ledge or branch; Climb a rope: Diff 1
• With a short run-up, run a short distance up a wall to reach a ledge; Leap up to a high branch or ledge; Avoid chatting guards on a dark windy night; Walk along a broad beam: Diff 2
• Run along the side of a wall to the next balcony; Standing-leap a ten-foot gap; Detect approaching guards; Time a run past a scything pendulum; Cannon off a wall; Swing on a chandelier; Avoid a falling tree: Diff 3
• Reduce damage when falling from a roof; Leap between buildings; Vault over a person; Swing from one tree to another; Run along a narrow beam; Avoid losing balance when injured; Spot a dart trap: Diff 4
• Sneak up behind an attentive guard; Get a good deal in a market; Ricochet between nearby walls to get up or down; Push over a heavy statue; Break down a door: Diff 5
• Jump a distance into a small gap; Sneak right past a guard; Pickpocket light items; : Diff 6

Broadly speaking, doing anything either faster or more quietly will increase the Difficulty.

Opposed actions

Opposed actions are directed against a sentient opponent. Each participant rolls whatever dice they allocate, and uses their highest die roll. The winner inflicts Effect equal to the difference in scores. A draw means no Effect is generated.

If the winner is acting purely defensively, they do not inflict Effect.

Characters may hold Focus in reserve to use later in the round if attacked with an Opposed action. Similarly, a character who has not yet acted can commit Focus when engaged with an Opposed action.

Where no Focus has been committed, assign a score of 1.

Modifiers may apply to the die roll, due to special abilities, equipment or circumstaces.

Momentum

Momentum represents physical and emotional flow, which builds during continuous action and allows you to accomplish increasingly impressive feats. Only player characters and a few NPCs can build Momentum.

Whenever a Focus roll succeeds, the highest die roll can immediately be converted into Momentum, replacing whatever Momentum the character currently has. Note that this is the original unmodified roll.

Momentum can be used to supplement Focus dice when taking actions, as long as the GM judges it appropriate. Any amount from the Momentum pool can be added to a die roll, and the rest retained. Momentum is added once the result of the roll is known.

Momentum is retained from round to round as long as it is not spent. Momentum is usually lost when switching between types of activity, or when a character does not roll any dice during a turn.

Modes of play

In Time Faffers, there are several broad types of play that may be occurring. These include:

• Parkour
• Combat
• Stealth
• Social

While they play largely the same, Momentum cannot generally be transferred between them. For example, if you build Momentum whilst swinging and leaping your way across a ruined walkway, you cannot use that Momentum to befriend a guard at the far end.

If the GM feels it is appropriate, Momentum may grant a one-time bonus when switching between Modes; depending on the result of the next roll, new Momentum may be generated. For example:

• a particularly dramatic round of combat might help intimidate or impress an NPC
• a highly successful piece of oration may distract NPCs long enough to get the drop on them
• skilled sneaking may leave enemies vulnerable to attack, or let you take control of a social situation
• acrobatic feats may provide a dramatic entrance, surprise monsters, or help you get into cover quickly

Cold actions

Some actions don't lend themselves to building up momentum, but demand the character's time and energy. This might include such things as heaving trapdoors open, squeezing through narrow spaces, bearing heavy burdens, picking up spilled coins or tying ropes. Such actions do not allow Momentum to be generated. In some cases, Opposed actions may be Cold.

Combat

Combat is one kind of Opposed action. Effect manifests as hits, which detract from the target's Stamina (see below).

Advantageous circumstances, such as outnumbering an enemy or height, can grant a +1 bonus (including where no Focus has been committed). Disadvantageous circumstaces, such as unstable footing, smoke or darkness, impose a -1 penalty unless the creature is exempt.

Manoeuvres

As well as engaging in ordinary combat, characters may perform special manoeuvres in the build-up to an attack. Correct use of vulnerabilities makes combat much easier. Non-player characters typically know few or no manoeuvres. Some examples are given below.

Enemies may be Vulnerable to specific versions of manoeuvres, which grants the attacker a +2 bonus on die rolls to perform them. Conversely, some enemies are resistant or immune to particular manoeuvres. Enemies may also have special reactions to certain manoeuvres or actions. For example, an enemy with a shield may brace against a charge, while a werewolf might snap at characters trying to vault over it.

Positioning manoeuvres

These allow a character to catch an opponent off-guard or from a weak angle. Opposed examples include rolling under an attacker's guard, dodging a charge at the last moment to catch someone off-balance, or sneaking up behind an enemy. Using a wall-jump or leaving from a plinth to somersault overhead is Unopposed, but leap-frogging an opponent is Opposed. Unopposed options might include shoving over furniture before an attack, a lengthy charge, or cannoning off a wall to hurl yourself forcefully at an enemy.

A successful use of Positioning manoeuvres allows a character to add Momentum built up from another Mode to their attack roll. Positioning manoeuvres can also allow a character to escape from tight spots. Where appropriate, a Positioning manoeuvre can produce Advantageous circumstances as well as allowing the use of Momentum.

Failure at a Positioning manoeuvre usually means the attempt is simply unsuccessful and no benefit is gained. In a few cases, there may be additional costs. For example, failure to dodge the charge means the opponent gains an advantage in the ensuing fight. Some enemies may have special reactions to particular kinds of failure: the aforementioned werewolf might inflict an automatic hit if you fail to vault over it.

Melée manoeuvres

These involve attacks that aim to gain advantage rather than kill. All such actions are Opposed.

Melée manoeuvres may include feints, trips, shoving with shields, throwing sand in someone's eyes, feigning weakness or striking at non-lethal but painful spots. A successful Melée manoeuvre saps a point of Focus from the target. If they have no remaining Focus this round, they lose a point next turn instead.

Failure at a Melée manoeuvre usually means the attempt is simply unsuccessful and no benefit is gained. In a few cases, there may be additional costs; some enemies can benefit from your failure.

Stamina

Enemies typically have between one and three Stamina, which determines how many hits they can take. Mortal enemies die or are disabled when they take enough hits, while supernatural ones usually become helpless and can be destroyed with a coup de grace. after a short time helpless, supernatural enemies may become active again with a single point of Stamina. Some monsters may guard their fallen against coups de grace.

A coup de grace is a Cold action costing one Focus (or Momentum). However,

Player characters typically have ten Stamina. They can regain Stamina during a rest, or when refreshed by certain resources, such as sacred springs. A PC reduced to zero Stamina is unconscious.

Non-combat injuries

Some activities, such as leaping chasms and rushing through sawblade traps, are inherently dangerous. If the Unopposed checks for such actions are failed even once any additional dice are committed, Stamina is lost. Typically a fall costs one Stamina per ten feet, while traps inflict between 1d3 and 2d6 damage. In some cases, a secondary action from the PC or a nearby ally may mitigate or avoid the damage; for example, a PC can attempt to grap a falling ally and haul them back to the ledge.

Time-Faffing

I don't think my ideas here have changed since part four.

PCs possess certain artefacts (or innate powers) that absorb mystical energies. When discharged, the energies allow them to rewind time slightly, in order to change their future.

Use of time-faffing is divided into Minor charges and Major charges. Five Minor charges equal a Major charge. An artefact can hold one Major charge.

A Minor charge represents a second or two of rewinding, and can be used in two ways.

Firstly, they can retry a failed action with the knowledge of that failure. This allows the user to reroll a single die for their own actions with a +1 bonus. As they do not know what will happen if they act differently, there is still a chance of failure.

Alternatively, they can modify a single die roll (other than their own) directly affecting them, setting it either to maximum or minimum. This represents reacting to events they foresee, since the events will happen exactly as they did last time.

Note that players may wait until fallout from a roll has been calculated (for example, damage taken from a trap or inflicted by their attacks) before deciding to use a charge.

A Major charge allows a much more extensive rewinding of time, which generally covers a minute or less. Simply, the use of a major charge allows a substantial revision of what has occurred, negotiated between player and GM. The party may have taken a different fork in the passageway, anticipated the ambush, or rushed over to rescue an ally rather than engaging an enemy. Return to the point where the change occurred, and proceed from there, making a reasonable guess at what would have changed mechanically.

Using a charge does not require Focus, and any number of charges can be used in a round. Players may reroll the same die repeatedly if they wish.

Artefacts typically recharge by absorbing energy from supernatural monsters, or from mortals affected by magic, when making a coup de grace. A single enemy typically provides a Minor charge.

Customisation

Assuming that anyone wants to customise their characters mechanically, this could be done by allowing them to select a small number of strengths and weaknesses relating to actions. These would grant a +1 bonus or -1 penalty when using related actions. Options might include Climb, Jump, Sneak, Flatter, Trip, Feint and whatever else seems appropriate. And of course, they can pick outfits, weapons and all that sort of thing.

---

So... better? Worse? Equally uninteresting?

Inspirations: the Sands of Time, part eight

Over the course of seven posts, I have discussed: general ideas and issues, possible systems, combat in the game, how to model it in tabletop, a homebrew possibility for handling the combat, dicepools and buffers, and some new options for combat.

At this point, considering this was supposed to be a quick little side-project, that is more than enough.

So here I present a tentative draft system for Time Faffers, based on previous posts plus (inevitably) stuff I thought of while writing this up. While I wasn't consciously inspired by it, I notice certain similarities to Parkour Murder Simulator. Given they're trying to solve some of the same problems, I suppose it makes sense.

Time Faffers: a Roleplaying Game of Jumping On Stuff

Doing stuff

Focus

A character's actions are limited by their Focus. PCs have three Focus per round, each represented by one die. These can be committed to Opposed or Unopposed actions. Focus or Momentum (see below) committed to an Opposed action must be declared beforehand; for Unopposed actions, further dice can be added after each roll if desired.

Opposed actions

Opposed actions are those directed against a sentient opponent, such as combat, misdirection, stealth or barter.

Each point of Focus committed to an Opposed action grants a d6 roll towards that action. Each roll is separate, and you use the highest roll. The opponent rolls any dice they have previously committed to a suitable defence, or a d3 if none.

If you exceed the target's score you inflict Effect equal to the difference in scores. If the Effect is greater than necessary to accomplish your goal, you can attempt to convert it into Momentum. If you roll equal to or less than the spare Effect on a d6, you gain one Momentum die.

Each additional roll of 6 (critical) mean you inflict a point of Effect regardless of score. Each additional roll of 1 (fumble) means you suffer a point of Effect regardless of score.

In the case of combat, Effect is Stamina damage. In non-combat situations it is more nebulous, including things such as slipping past a guard, winning concessions, social embarrassment, leaving clues while sneaking about, dropping items, or getting into a tricky situation without immediate physical harm.

Unopposed actions

Each point of Focus committed to an Unopposed action is one d6. The results are cumulative (4 + 3 = 7, and so on). An action has a fixed Difficulty which must be beaten to succeed. If you exceed the Difficulty, you convert any Focus spent into Momentum dice (or possibly the last Focus). If you fail, and do not spend more dice, the Focus is lost.

In a handful of cases, the action may have a difficulty of zero. This covers things like running to build up speed for a jump.

Cold actions

Some actions don't lend themselves to building up momentum, but demand the character's time and energy. This might include such things as heaving trapdoors open, squeezing through narrow spaces, bearing heavy burdens, picking up spilled coins or tying ropes. Such actions may have a fixed Focus cost (with no die roll or Difficulty), or may call for a die roll but not allow Momentum to be generated. In some cases, Opposed actions may be Cold.

Momentum

Momentum represents physical and emotional flow, which builds during continuous action and allows you to accomplish increasingly impressive feats.

Momentum dice can be used to supplement Focus dice when taking actions, as long as the GM judges it appropriate. They can be used to initiate actions just like Focus dice, as long as the player has no remaining Focus dice.

Momentum dice are retained from round to round as long as they are not spent. Momentum spent to initiate or accomplish a task is lost, though Focus spent on the same task can be converted to Momentum dice. Momentum is usually lost when switching between types of activity, or when a character does not roll any dice during a turn.

Predicted actions

As combat and other opposed actions can occur during someone else's turn, how do you defend yourself? Well, you can commit Focus the turn before from your pool. For example, a character might commit Focus to self-defence, keeping watch, bracing for impact or resisting blandishments. Such dice apply to every such event until your next round (within the bounds of reason)

Similarly, you can Ready an action to occur in response to an event, spending Focus as normal.

Example: Self-Defence

Vodor runs and scrambles over a wall, only to find herself surrounded by giant wasps and out of Focus. In the ensuing round, she can barely protect herself from the wasps, rolling 1d3 against each and taking some damage. In the next round, rather than attack, she commits two dice to defence and the third to an attempt to escape. This allows her to roll 2d6 for defence (though she won't inflict any damage unless some 1s get rolled) while she tries to get out of there.

Modes of play

In Time Faffers, there are several broad types of play that may be occurring. These include:

• Parkour
• Combat
• Stealth
• Social

While they play largely the same, Momentum cannot generally be transferred between them. For example, if you build Momentum whilst swinging and leaping your way across a ruined walkway, you cannot use that Momentum to befriend a guard at the far end.

If the GM feels it is appropriate, some or all Momentum may be burned as a one-time bonus when switching between Modes; depending on the result of the next roll, new Momentum may be generated. For example:

• a particularly dramatic round of combat might help intimidate or impress an NPC
• a highly successful piece of oration may distract NPCs long enough to get the drop on them
• skilled sneaking may leave enemies vulnerable to attack, or let you take control of a social situation
• acrobatic feats may provide a dramatic entrance, surprise monsters, or help you get into cover quickly

Combat

Combat is an Opposed action.

Manoeuvres

As well as engaging in ordinary combat, characters may perform manoeuvres to attack in various more specific ways.

Action manoeuvres

These are actions in and of themselves.

• Vault - run up and over an object or enemy to escape or to improve your positioning.

Follow-up manoeuvres

These require an appropriate setup, typically via an Unopposed action.

• Charge - rush in with great force after a run-up, leap or cannon.
• Backstab - strike a vulnerable spot, typically following a sneak up, duck-and-roll, overhead flip or feint

Attack manoeuvres

These are forms of attack, performed instead of an ordinary attack.

• Hamstring - slows some enemies down (reduce speed), by targeting vulnerable but non-lethal spots
• Feint - doesn't inflict damage, but can expose enemies (subtract Focus) and build combat Momentum
• Unbalance - trip, shove or smack with a shield, this doesn't inflict damage, but can hamper enemies (subtract Focus) and build combat Momentum
• Disarm - reduces some enemies' ability to fight (reduced die size)

Enemies may be Vulnerable to specific manoeuvres, which grants the attacker a +1 bonus on die rolls - importantly, this means you cannot roll a fumble, while a roll of 5+ counts as a critical. Correct use of vulnerabilities makes combat much easier.

Enemies may also have special reactions to certain manoeuvres or actions. For example, an enemy with a spear or shield may brace against a charge, while a werewolf might snap at characters trying to vault over it.

Example: Cannoning Attack

Surrounded by shadow-beings, Lyris rushes at a wall, runs up a few steps and launches herself back towards a startled shadow with enormous force, allowing her to make a Charge attack.

Her player rolls 1d6 against a Difficulty of 3 to perform the manoeuvre, and rolls a 2. Not wanting to fumble this, they add another die and roll 6 for a total of 8. Lyris now has two Momentum dice. As it turns out, the shadow-being is vulnerable to Strong attacks, granting a +1 bonus to rolls.

The third point of Focus is committed to the attack, along with both Momentum dice, granting a roll of three d6s +1. The shadow-being rolls 1d6 to defend itself. It rolls a 3, while Lyris' player rolls a 2, a 4 and an 6, for an overall 7. Lyris inflicts four hits, obliterating the three-Stamina monster, and can roll 1d6 to convert the spare Effect into Momentum. Unfortunately, she rolls a 3. Her turn is over and she is out of Momentum.

Example: Parkour

Red Morris is out a-burgling in the slums when a rival gang spot him. The chase is on!

Morris spends one Focus to run straight at a wall and up it, allowing him to spend another grabbing the top and swinging over. Each of these actions nets him one Momentum die. Eager to get away quickly, he spends the third Focus point to leap from the wall onto a nearby rooftop, but rolls badly and needs to spend a Momentum dice to make the jump - he loses it, but converts the Focus into Momentum, leaving him with two Momentum dice and no Focus.

At this point Morris has the choice of ending his turn and retaining the Momentum as security for next turn, or pushing on with Momentum alone. Without Focus to produce Momentum, he won't be able to build up to more challenging feats.

However, a few of the gang are still hot on his heels, so he decides to run for the girder that leads to the next building. It's a tricky balancing act, and though he makes it across, he's lost the momentum built up earlier on, and will start cold next turn.

Stamina

Enemies typically have between one and three Stamina, which determines how many hits they can take. Mortal enemies die or are disabled when they take enough hits, while supernatural ones are usually helpless and need a coup de grace to destroy them. A coup de grace is a Cold action costing one Focus (or Momentum). However, after a short time helpless, supernatural enemies may become active again with a single point of Stamina. Some monsters may guard their fallen against coups de grace.

Player characters typically have ten Stamina. They can regain Stamina during a rest, or when refreshed by certain resources, such as sacred springs.

Non-combat injuries

Some activities, such as leaping chasms and rushing through sawblade traps, are inherently dangerous. If the Unopposed checks for such actions are failed even once any additional dice are committed, Stamina is lost. Typically a fall costs one Stamina per ten feet, while traps inflict between 1d3 and 2d6 damage. In some cases, a secondary action from the PC or a nearby ally may mitigate or avoid the damage; for example, a PC can attempt to grap a falling ally and haul them back to the ledge.

Time-Faffing

I don't think my ideas here have changed since part four.

PCs possess certain artefacts (or innate powers) that absorb mystical energies. When discharged, the energies allow them to rewind time slightly, in order to change their future.

Use of time-faffing is divided into Minor charges and Major charges. Five Minor charges equal a Major charge. An artefact can hold one Major charge.

A Minor charge represents a second or two of rewinding, and can be used in two ways.

Firstly, they can retry a failed action with the knowledge of that failure. This allows the user to reroll a single die for their own actions with a +1 bonus. As they do not know what will happen if they act differently, there is still a chance of failure.

Alternatively, they can modify a single die roll (other than their own) directly affecting them, setting it either to maximum or minimum. This represents reacting to events they foresee, since the events will happen exactly as they did last time.

Note that players may wait until fallout from a roll has been calculated (for example, damage taken from a trap or inflicted by their attacks) before deciding to use a charge.

A Major charge allows a much more extensive rewinding of time, which generally covers a minute or less. Simply, the use of a major charge allows a substantial revision of what has occurred, negotiated between player and GM. The party may have taken a different fork in the passageway, anticipated the ambush, or rushed over to rescue an ally rather than engaging an enemy. Return to the point where the change occurred, and proceed from there, making a reasonable guess at what would have changed mechanically.

Using a charge does not require Focus, and any number of charges can be used in a round. Players may reroll the same die repeatedly if they wish.

Artefacts typically recharge by absorbing energy from supernatural monsters, or from mortals affected by magic, when making a coup de grace. A single enemy typically provides a Minor charge.

Customisation

Assuming that anyone wants to customise their characters mechanically, this could be done by allowing them to select a small number of strengths and weaknesses relating to actions. These would increase or decrease the die size respectively when using related actions.

Options might include Climb, Jump, Sneak, and whatever else seems appropriate. And of course, they can pick outfits, weapons and all that sort of thing.

---

Well, I think that's something approaching a workable system? But I'm sure I've left something out, or some egregious nonsense left over between revisions... do let me know.

One thing I am still turning over is whether to keep the current assumed round structure (one at a time), or split the turn into several rounds, with each character doing one thing at a time. The latter would actually help keep combat simple, because rather than having attack and defence separately, there'd just be a single combat to which both characters can commit dice. In that model, you'd typically each spend one Focus at a time, but could potentially spend two or three on a single action and then sit out the other rounds.

I'm also aware that enemies and abilities are massively underspecified, and the manoeuvres need some work. Exactly what work is another question.