Dungeon University: Rogue 101

By Johnathon Wilson

I’ve been thinking a lot about Rogues recently. I talked about Expertise in a previous article, praising the way it allows you to fulfill your character vision. I stand by that, and that realization is also what made me fall in love with Rogues. I had the pleasure of playing an Inquisitive Rogue through Waterdeep: Dragon Heist, and into the Dungeon of the Mad Mage. There were some….growing pains, as most of my previous characters were Warlocks, Monks, or Paladins. I was used to having my characters be fairly straightforward, with clear decision trees when it came to contributing to the session. Rogues can be straightforward in certain ways, like how you want to be sure to be applying your Sneak Attack damage every round, but often require more forethought. The problem that I ran into is that Rogues more than anything provide more efficient tools than nearly any other class, but a Player has to use those tools to see their Rogue shine. It took a few levels for me to figure that out, and to learn to love the Rogue. I’d like to talk about a few key things that I believe contribute to the enjoyment of playing a Rogue, that I think can help any player with the game.

Exhibit A

Exhibit A

Rogues are efficient. The tools provided by even just the first 5 levels of the class ensure that you will be able to make the most of every Turn. To really clarify this, I think it’s important to break down the available Actions that a character has during a Round of combat. The first aspect of this is identifying the terms used for your various options. A Round of combat is the amount of time it takes for every Combatant to have a Turn. In fiction, this last for 6 seconds, as it is assumed that all Turns happen nearly simultaneously. Your Turn order is determined by Initiative, which is rolled at the beginning of Combat. There are four possible Actions to spend during a Round, three of which are used on your Turn (Action, Bonus Action, Movement Action), and one of which can be used on your Turn or during another Turn (Reaction). These rules can be bent or broken with certain Class Features like Action Surge from the Fighter class, which allows you to take an additional Action on your turn once/short rest. Otherwise the rules hold, with Action, Bonus Action, and Movement Action occurring on your turn, and a Reaction occurring either on your Turn or another Turn.

The rogueyest of rogues will also make clever use of inaction.

The rogueyest of rogues will also make clever use of inaction.

Action and Movement Action are almost always used by every class, with the Action being used to cast most spells and make most attacks. Bonus Actions are used by many classes to either buff attacks, make additional attacks, or cast a select few spells. That being said, not every class makes effective use of their Bonus Action, which is one of the standout features of the Rogue class. Thanks to Cunning Action, acquired at second level, your Rogue will almost always have a good use for their Bonus Action. Dash, Disengage, and Hide, are extremely useful Actions to take in Combat, especially when Cunning Action allows you to do so and still use your Action to Sneak Attack.

The Reaction is a special type of Action, namely in that it is the only Action that can be taken off-turn. It can help to conceptualize the various Actions as currency that you can spend every Round to make your moves. The Reaction is the only Action that is spent due to another stimulus, or in Reaction to something else happening. The Shield spell allows the caster to spend their Reaction, as well as a first level Spell Slot, to add 5 to their Armor Class until the start of their next turn and they must have been “…hit by an attack or targeted by the magic missile spell”. At level 5, Rogues gain the Uncanny Dodge ability, which allows them to spend their Reaction to halve the damage from an attack that hits them. The best part of Uncanny Dodge, is that the further you get into your campaign, the stronger of an ability it is. It also plays nicely into the overall Rogue combat goal of “avoid/reduce damage while landing Sneak Attack”.

“Surprise, motherfuckers!”

“Surprise, motherfuckers!”

As a Rogue, you should be making sure to apply your Sneak Attack damage every round. To accomplish this, your target either needs to be within 5ft of a hostile creature or you need to have advantage on the Attack Roll. The Inquisitive and Swashbuckler subclasses provide nice ways around this, but generally you’ll need the meet the first two conditions. Outside of communicating with your team (ew gross no thank you), you’ll need to find ways to manufacture Advantage for yourself. Taking the Hide Action, allows you to make a Stealth check in an attempt to obscure yourself from view. If your Hide check is successful, you will be considered a “Hidden” creature, and will therefore have Advantage on Attack Rolls against creatures that can’t see you. This is straight from Chapter 9 of the Players Handbook. With Cunning Action allowing a Rogue to use a Bonus Action to Hide, you have a great resource always available to make sure that you can land those big Sneak Attack hits. Now, your DM isn’t going to let you hide in the middle of a bare room, but with a little ingenuity and planning you can reasonably find a place to Hide. With Rogue also providing two Expertise selections at level 1, you can easily have an extraordinary bonus to your Stealth check very early on.

There’s always at least a 5% chance this will work.

There’s always at least a 5% chance this will work.

The Rogue class provides a lot of outstanding features within the first 5 levels that allow you to get the most out of every round of Combat. It requires that you pay attention to your surroundings, and use the tools at your disposal, but they’re excellent tools. Success as a Rogue comes from understanding those tools, as well as the environment that you are going to apply them in. You must have a firm grasp of your available options before you can make a move to address them. So learn the difference between your Action, Movement, and Bonus Action. Understand when to plan a use of Uncanny Dodge, and when to use Disengage to get far enough away from trouble that you won’t need to. Either way, be smart, be efficient, and please don’t steal from your party. Please?

An Unexpected Boss

By Nick Olivo

There are certain monsters that have become iconic bosses throughout fantasy RPGs. Crazed human necromancers, cunning mind flayers, crime lord beholders, and of course, dragons. While these are fun and exciting creatures to pit your players against, sometimes it’s fun to throw them a curveball, and set them up against a monster that no one would suspect capable of pulling the strings. And today I’m talking about an ooze.

Just about every campaign comes across an ooze at least once. Take the gelatinous cube, so famous it made a cameo appearance in the movie Onward, or the dreaded black puddings that corrode the PCs’ weapons when they attack it. When I guest DM’d for Authors and Dragons, I hid oozes in fonts of water outside of a temple. When Silas Kane, the party’s paladin, got close enough, the ooze leapt from the water and engulfed his head. He spent the next few rounds bashing his own face against the font to try and get the ooze off. Good times.

So your players likely have familiarity with oozes and they know what to expect. Oozes are mindless slimes that it’s best to attack from a distance and that’s about it. The party would never suspect an ooze of being capable of thinking in sentence fragments, let alone scheming any kind of plot.

Until they meet an oblex, that is.

Oblexes were introduced in Mordenkainen’s Tome of Foes and are oozes that were likely created by mind flayers, though Mordenkainen himself suspects that the ooze lord Jubilex had something to do with it. Oblex feed on the memories of their victims, absorbing their skill proficiencies and knowledge. They also have the ability to create ooze-based copies of their victims, which helps them attract and hunt additional victims more effectively. The more memories an oblex consumes, the larger it gets, and eventually, it spawns a new oblex.

But here’s why I say that they make great unexpected bosses. Even a newly spawned oblex, which is a CR ¼, has an INT score of 14. While that’s not genius level, it’s smarter than many other monsters (and a lot of PCs) at that level. By the time the oblex reaches adulthood, its INT score is a 19, which is the same as a mind flayer. An elder oblex has an INT score of 22, which is beyond the level of intelligence any PC can achieve without magical items. So this is friggin’ smart ooze. And more than competent enough to craft schemes that harry the party. They’re also the only ooze I’ve come across that has an alignment (lawful evil), so this is a creature that knows right from wrong, and it chooses wrong.

In combat, an oblex is no slouch either. Adult and elder oblexes have innate spellcasting abilities, your basic pseudopod attacks, and the ability to drain the memories of a creature that’s within 5 ft of it. This deals psychic damage and the PC must roll a die and subtract the result from any ability check or attack roll they make. Each time the PC gets drained, the size of the die increases, starting at a d4, going to a d6, and so on, until you get to a d20. That’s a terribly debilitating situation to be in, and because the oblex has access to spells that mentally dominate, confuse, or paralyze the party members, there’s a good chance at least one PC is going to get hit pretty hard by this.

So imagine a town where people have trouble remembering things. The PCs investigate, and they find that something’s been tampering with peoples’ minds. Maybe some of the people have recurring nightmares about a squid-headed humanoid. The PCs will suspect a mind flayer, and you can even have a mind flayer working for the oblex. But then, when the PCs find and defeat that mind flayer, things don’t change in the town. And that’s when they get the reveal that the mind flayer was working for something else, and now the party has to figure who that is. And when they realize it’s an ooze, their minds will be blown.

Moments like this can be very exciting for the party and you as the DM. Planting red herrings and watching the party come across them, discover the truth, and then have the “Oh, crap,” moment as they realize the villain isn’t who they thought it was, is tons of fun. When a movie has a surprise villain, like The Usual Suspects or Unbreakable, the audience gasps and then spends hours afterwards reexamining everything they thought they knew, and then they realize that the answers and clues pointing to the real villain were right in front of them all along. Your players will do the same thing.

So sure, have the PCs test their wits and strength against beholders and dragons and necromancers. But throw in an oblex to keep your party guessing, because really, who’d suspect an ooze?

Spells That are Secretly Class Features: Part One.

By Johnathon Wilson

I was doing some research for another article about my favorite Class Features and noticed something that I felt deserved its own immediate attention. Namely that Spellcasting is far and away the biggest Class Feature in D&D, and that there are quite a few spells that are secretly Class Features.

When I say Class Feature, what I mean is something that is either unique to the class, or a building block of it in some way. That doesn’t mean they’re strictly necessary, mostly just that the feature is either iconic or highly valuable. You could theoretically play a Paladin without ever using Divine Smite, but it would certainly be a deviation from expectations.

Essentially, just a nerd in armor.

Essentially, just a nerd in armor.

That being said, go for it! I’ve played a Warlock without Eldritch Blast and still had a great time with the character. That also being said, this article isn’t about that, so let’s get on with it!


Cantrips:

The big standouts in the Cantrip category are Eldritch Blast for Warlock and Vicious Mockery for Bards. Shillelagh and Thorn Whip both deserve big shout outs as well for Druids, as they’re immensely flavorful and evocative of the magical hermit theme that’s so often associated with Druids. I would also like to note that I’m a big proponent of letting all full spellcasters take their prestidigitation/thamaturgy/druidcraft for free, without expending a cantrip selection. I personally enjoy spellcasters being just a little bit more magical, but that’s just how I do.

“Is THIS your card?”

“Is THIS your card?”

Eldritch Blast is only on the Warlock spell list, and the subject of so many memes it almost isn’t worth talking about. Almost. It’s also an amazing tool that allows Warlocks to not need to worry about whether they’re useful in combat. For the cost of a cantrip selection, and an Invocation (one of my absolute favorite Class Features), Warlocks can consistently put the hurt on whatever gross zombie is attacking your party this week. A ranged spell attack for 1d10 of force damage, plus your Charisma modifier (scales up to 5 depending on how charming you are) for every shot is pretty excellent. It’s a resource free, long range, inherently magical attack, that frees up the rest of your character resources for flavor and utility.

If you’re going to jerk off a warlock, expect a handful of his Eldritch Blast.

If you’re going to jerk off a warlock, expect a handful of his Eldritch Blast.

Vicious Mockery is magical bullying, and if you need a magical bully, you need a bard. While most bards are capable of hurting feelings, your bard should be capable of hurting feelings AND bodies with their words. If a creature can hear you, you can force it to make a Wisdom saving throw or take 1d4 (scales up to 4d4 at Character level 17) psychic damage and have disadvantage on their next attack roll before the end of their next turn. So you’re so goddamn mean to something that you hurt its actual brain and make it worse at its job? Well Bards gonna Bard I guess. The low potential damage doesn’t take away from it too much, as the fact that the spell is tied to a Wisdom saving throw AND applies disadvantage on a failure is pretty nice. If you want to build a damage oriented Bard it’s probably not your first choice, but if you’re just looking to ruin a bandits day then it’s right up your alley.

“I’m sorry. Can you say that again without your mother’s balls in your mouth?”

“I’m sorry. Can you say that again without your mother’s balls in your mouth?”


Level 1:

There are a LOT of first level spells, which makes sense given how many first level spell slots an adventuring party can go through. There are also a lot of first level spells that fit the mold of a Class Feature, and while this isn’t meant to be a Class Feature bible, I also don’t want to skip anything that’s particularly relevant. I’m not going to touch on every class, so if I skip your favorite spell or class feel free to shout at me in the comments so I can cover it later.

Bless is a Cleric and Paladin exclusive spell, that allows you to temporarily bolster up to three of your allies in combat. They get to add a d4 to every attack roll and saving throw for the 1 minute duration of the spell, which for a first level spell is fantastic! Not only is it mechanically powerful, but it really emulates that “holy protection in the hour of need” vibe that people associate with the Cleric and Paladin. Almost every Cleric/Paladin I’ve played, and played with, has had Bless in their repertoire, even if you’ll end up being the d4 police since NOBODY REMEMBERS THEIR BLESS.

Find Familiar is Wizard only spell (except for Pact of the Chain Warlocks), that allows you to summon a spirit in the form of a handful of beasts like owls, frogs, ravens and bats. You can communicate telepathically with your Familiar if it’s nearby, and use an action to see through its senses instead of yours. It’s like a pocket druid! Except instead of ragging on your Paladin for their gleaming plate mail, your Familiar is a little best friend that can help with all sorts of things. You can even cast spells with a range of touch through your Familiar, so if you want to Shocking Grasp through the talons of your owl, go for it. The usefulness of this spell are limited only by your creativity, and how quickly your DM starts having all of your enemies target your Familiar. 10g isn’t much to replace, but it never gets easier to see The Fresh Prince of Loviatar skewered on some shitty bandit’s arrow.

“Well done, Mittens. Give it here now.”

“Well done, Mittens. Give it here now.”

Hunter’s Mark is Ranger spell, also available to Oath of Vengeance Paladins. It allows you to magically mark your target, causing them to take an additional 1d6 damage from all of your weapon attacks. It also makes them easier to track, allowing you to have advantage on Survival (Wisdom) checks to find them. This spell represents the supernatural ability of Rangers and Batman-y Paladins to spot weaknesses in their prey, and never lose track of them. It helps Rangers deal solid damage early on, and once you have a magical weapon, becomes superior to the Warlock-only Hex that adds 1d6 of necrotic damage. Necrotic damage can be resisted by some nasty extra-planar beings, but magical weapon damage will almost always get the job done. Until you run into a raging Barbarian anyway. It doesn’t matter how pointy your arrow is when you’re attacking that much beef.

Unless, of course, you two are into that sort of thing.

Unless, of course, you two are into that sort of thing.

It turns out that I have more to say than I thought about some of these hidden Class Features, and that there are a lot more of them than I anticipated! I’m going to work my way through all the spell levels, and my second entry is going to open with some more first level selections since there’s too many great choices!


Why Your Character Should Be an Expert

By Johnathon Wilson

In the time that I’ve been playing D&D I’ve had the pleasure of seeing a variety of different ways that we all enjoy this lovely game. There are those of us who want to play as a representation of themselves, similar to the avatars in The Matrix. There are those of us who want to play as masters of combat, overcoming the challenges their DM creates through huge damage and tactical thinking. And there are those of us who want to be lost in a story and to develop strong bonds to their characters personalities and goals, and to relish the emotional highs and lows.

It’s healthier AND cheaper than the more traditional methods.

It’s healthier AND cheaper than the more traditional methods.

None of these goals are mutually exclusive, and there are countless ways to enjoy a game that’s closer to a list of guidelines than anything. While I’ve been fortunate enough to be exposed to a variety of gaming styles and preferences, I have by no means experienced them all. Fortunately, due to the wonders of TTRPG podcasts and streams, we’ve all had the opportunity to see how other folks play their game.

For example…

For example…

One of the things I’ve noticed through these observations, is that regardless of their playstyle, most players enjoy having their characters succeed at whatever their goal for the character is. Whether that’s combat, persuading NPC’s, searching for clues, or whatever specific thing resonates with a player’s character, they want to be good at it.

The question then becomes, how do we actually accomplish that? For certain players it’s pretty easy to figure out. You can check any online D&D community and find dozens of character builds that will let you maximize whatever kind of damage you want. Whether it’s as a Fighter with hand-crossbows and a couple of choice Feats (Sharpshooter and Crossbow Expert to be specific), or as a Paladin taking a couple levels of Hexblade Warlock. Full spell-casting classes have a wide variety of options in the form of spell selection and usage that they can use to fulfill their character vision, even if that vision is raining down as much arcane hellfire as superhumanly possible. Whatever kind of damage you want to dish out, there are plenty of ways to lay down the hurt.

For bards, there’s chlamydia.

For bards, there’s chlamydia.

But what about the players who want to be good at things other than combat, or solve problems that can't simply be blasted away with a fireball? What of the investigators and persuaders, the religious experts and survivalists? The things that won’t easily be defined by how many different spells an elemental-themed wizard has, or how many goblins they beat off with their great-sword.

“I don’t care how great your sword is. Either you use your hand, or I’m not paying.”

“I don’t care how great your sword is. Either you use your hand, or I’m not paying.”

The answer usually comes down to roleplay and skill checks. D&D as a game largely comes down to the player telling the DM what they’d like to do, and the DM telling them what they need to do to succeed. In combat we see that resolved through attack rolls or saving throws, but outside of combat it’s almost always going to be skill checks. Outside of the most intense roleplay based groups, you’re probably still going to need make a deception check after coming up with that badass lie about why your Barbarian is covered in blood.

“What, this? It’s just Arby’s sauce. Shut up.”

“What, this? It’s just Arby’s sauce. Shut up.”

So, if we know that skill checks are the mechanic that we can use to be successful at the things that are important to our character, we’ve gotta get good at skill checks. Outside of regular proficiency in a skill and making sure the relevant ability score is as high as it can get, the best thing you can do for your skill checks is to acquire Expertise.

Expertise allows you to add double your proficiency bonus to the relevant check, which scales from 2-6 as a character levels up, and ends up making sure that you really feel like an expert at those things. Rogues and Bards get expertise baked into their class, at level 1 and level 3 respectively. Depending on the underlying character and multiclassing restrictions, (which are laid out in chapter 6 of the Players Handbook) one option may be superior. My personal opinion is that two levels of Rogue is amazing for almost any character, due to the expertise reasons and the fact that Cunning Action adds an incredible amount of versatility to the bonus action.

Some rogues are more cunning than others.

Some rogues are more cunning than others.

Fortunately, in Tasha’s Cauldron of Everything, there’s a new option to acquire some expertise that doesn’t rely on multiclassing. The Skill Expert feat is a half feat, which means it gives you a point to put into an Ability Score along with the other benefits. This point can go into any score, and is very useful to round up odd scores since the modifier bonuses from Ability Scores increase at even numbers. You also get to choose a skill proficiency, and then choose a skill that you are proficient with and upgrade that to expertise. Hot diggity shit that’s fantastic!

No longer do you have to settle for a Cleric that’s merely insightful, or a Sorcerer that’s simply persuasive! Become the Dwarven lie-detector you’ve always wanted to be, or the silver-tongued Half-Elf schmoozing their way through the crustiest of upper-crust. While the Prodigy feat from Xanathars Guide to Everything does provide expertise in a skill you have proficiency with, it’s also locked behind some race-restrictions so therefore less of a generally good fit overall.

“This is bullshit.”

“This is bullshit.”

The long and short of it is that finding a way to acquire Expertise in the most relevant skills to your characters vision is one of the best ways to fulfill that vision. It will allow your character to succeed on the checks you NEED them to be good at, and the Skill Expert feat will let you do it without sacrificing any class progression. I don’t think that expertise is strictly necessary for a character being fun to play, but I think that it can go a long way to helping your character to feel the way you want them to. I believe the primary function of this wonderful game is to have fun. But, I also believe that most people have more fun when their characters performance is congruent with their hopes and expectations.


5 Reasons to Use Mephits in Your D&D Game

By Nick Olivo

If you’ve played Dungeons & Dragons for any length of time, you’ve fought countless goblins, kobolds, wolves, orcs, and bugbears. Those are classic, tried-and-true monsters that are staples for fantasy gaming, especially at lower levels. But there’s another low-level monster that doesn’t get nearly enough love, and that’s what I’m going to talk about today. And as stated in the title, I’m talking about mephits.

Not to be confused with their distant cousins, the Meth-Its.

Not to be confused with their distant cousins, the Meth-Its.

If you’re not familiar with mephits, they’re little winged imps from the elemental planes that have a penchant for trickery and mischief. Each mephit is a mixture of two elements, and they’re drawn to locations where those base elements are plentiful. Those elemental combinations help determine the mephit’s strengths, weaknesses, and immunities, and make for what I consider a very interesting low-level monster.

Here are 5 reasons why you should be using mephitis in your games.

1. Environmental Versatility

Mephits are elemental creatures, and as such, there’s a mephit for each element type. Your adventure takes place in a volcano? Boom, magma mephits. You’re in a forgotten catacomb that’s recently been broken open by an earthquake? Dust mephits. Frozen wasteland? Ice mephits. Hot springs? Steam mephits. Forest fire? Smoke mephits. Underground caverns? Mud mephits. No matter what climate your adventure takes place in, no matter what time of year it is, no matter what screwball environmental conditions are at play, there’s a mephit that will fit in there.

Trailer park? We’ve got you covered!

Trailer park? We’ve got you covered!

2. Role-playing possibilities

Each different type of mephit has a distinct personality type. Dust mephits find death morbidly fascinating. Ice mephits are aloof and cruel. Mud mephits beg for attention and treasure. These traits mean that your mephit is more than just a winged sack of hit points for the party to bash on. They can be bargained with, reasoned with, and can deceive and be deceived (assuming you speak their language). The party may open fire on a pair of goblins without trying to talk to them first, but mephits are exotic enough that the PCs may attempt communication before just laying into them. Some mephits are curious, too, and they may try to approach the party. Even just the act of attempting to successfully communicate with them can make for some great role-playing opportunities.

“Donde esta la biblioteca?"

“Donde esta la biblioteca?"

3. They make great minions.

Because of their elemental affinities, you can have mephits working for nearly any type of monster. Servants to a red dragon? Check. Lookouts for a yeti? Check. Attendants for a lich? Yep, that too. While they don’t have particularly high INT or WIS scores, they’re far from mindless creatures, and that means higher-level monsters will know they’re capable of performing basic tasks, and trust them accordingly.

If you can’t trust these little assholes, who can you trust?

If you can’t trust these little assholes, who can you trust?

4. They make decent low-level bosses.

Let’s say a level 1 party is going up against a small tribe of goblins. Usually, the boss goblin has a slightly better sword, or maybe a few vials of alchemist’s fire to set him apart from the others. Instead of that, have a mephit. Mephits can fly, most of them have access to one spell, have a breath weapon, and yet they’re only a CR ¼. So you’re not risking a TPK by throwing one into the mix, and you’re gaining a monster that will attack on the wing, use magic from a distance, and breathe some sort of elemental madness that’s bound to ruin a PC’s day. What makes them even more fun is their Death Burst ability. When a mephit dies, it explodes and deals some sort of elemental effect, such as shards or ice, fiery explosions, or searing clouds of steam. That makes for a memorable victory, assuming the party survives it.

May the gods have mercy on heroes who slay a shit mephit.

May the gods have mercy on heroes who slay a shit mephit.

5. They can summon more mephits.

If the Minions movie taught us anything, it’s that moderation can go fuck itself. What could be a better foe for your PCs to encounter than a mephit? The answer, of course, is MORE MEPHITS!

If you use the Variant: Mephit Summoning rules listed in the Monster Manual, a mephit can try to summon additional 1d4 mephits of its kind. While summoned mephits only last for 1 minute, that’s 10 rounds, and a helluva long time in combat if your level 1 or 2 party suddenly finds themselves up against 5 mephits instead of one.

FUCK YOU!

FUCK YOU!

While goblins and kobolds are fun monsters to throw at your players, switch it up every now and then with some mephits. You’ll find they’re adaptable, fun to RP, and give a breath of fresh air to your adventures.

So You Want to Turn Your Book Into a Game

Submitted by Noah K. Sturdevant

As an author, I’ve heard from many people that my books would make for great games. Those people aren’t wrong. My Mark Vedis: Warlock Urban Fantasy series could make a good video game, while my Karazan Online LitRPG/Gamelit series could be a video game or tabletop game. And while most people would love to get the exposure and money that comes from expanding their work into different types of media, it’s not quite that simple.

Money? Exposure? Mom was right all along!

Money? Exposure? Mom was right all along!

Still, maybe a few people would like to give it a shot. Here are some things to keep in mind before you get to work.

To start, games are a risky investment of both time and money. Sure, authors already risk both when they publish a book, though indie authors, such as myself, tend to put up more cash up front for editing, covers, marketing, and such. However, that cost pales in comparison to a game. Unless you are super rich, or are good at convincing people to fund your game, you’re going to need to be prepared to do a lot of work.

But, let’s assume finances aren’t a problem. Let’s look at some other issues you’ll want to be prepared for.

To start, there’s going to be a hell of a lot of writing. Sure, you’ve (hopefully) got a series bible that contains the backstory of your world and its major events, as well as your way of approaching genre specific conventions, such as magic, romance, giant robot construction, mystery solving, grave robbing, or whatever. That’s a solid beginning, but a game has to account for all the things a player would like to do and know. That means that you have to figure it out and write it in a way that’s informative and entertaining. Every extra detail you add to the lore and rules will help keep the player immersed and the Dungeon Master (in the case of tabletop games) or game engine (in the case of video games) from breaking the immersion of the game.

Let’s say you want to seduce an enemy, for example. In a video game, if you have written up a few hundred random phrases to pull from for yes, not yet, or no responses, the player won’t get bored. If you simply have them say no or yes, the player will probably end up trying to kill them in different ways instead, because the romance part of the game stinks. For a tabletop, the DM will have more freedom, but you’ll still have to figure out the rules. For example, if a female dragon refused to bang a half elf/half demon player, is it because of their race, their alignment, their alliances, low charisma, or just because she’s not ready to be a single mom and she’s too lazy to cast a contraceptive spell.

“Keep your laws off my cloaca!”

“Keep your laws off my cloaca!”

And that’s just one encounter. Think of everything else that needs to be written. A single campaign could take as long to write as a novel, especially the first few.

That brings me to the next point. Time. Most authors need to keep putting out book on a regular basis to keep the bills paid. Very few can take years off from writing books to dream up all the stuff a game requires. Sure, some can hire people to help them, but even many popular traditionally published authors don’t have that kind of money to invest.

After all, there is no guarantee the game will sell, even if it’s great. For every Witcher franchise there are hundreds of games that were never completed, much less turned a profit.

Now, am I saying any of this is impossible? No, of course not. There are shortcuts for video games in the form of generic systems that you can customize. The same goes for tabletop games, which can be based on creative commons or open-source rule sets. As far as funding goes, there are options there, too.

Kickstarter and similar crowdfunding sites have made any number of tabletop and video games possible. If you have a rabid fan base and a good product to pitch, you could unleash a best seller onto the world, or at least a product that gets your name out there and provides a decent return on your investment.

All I’m saying is that, while whipping up a game sounds like fun, it’s better to go into anything that takes you away from writing books fully aware of what you’re getting into.

And for any readers, if your favorite author says they’d love to make a game, but they just can’t do it yet, maybe now you’ll have a better understanding of why.

P.S. It’s extremely difficult to sell the rights to make a movie or show out of a book or series, too. If anyone feels like buying the rights to make a Netflix or Disney + version of my books, send me an email.


Noah K. Sturdevant

Website: www.noahksturdevant.com Email:[email protected]

Noah is a man of mystery and intrigue. Granted, most of secrets revolve around lost socks and conspiracy theories about otters. Word to the wise, don’t get him started on the otter thing unless you’ve got a free weekend.

Noah Grew up in Southeast Kansas, but has lived in Asia for the last decade, bouncing from South Korea, to China, to Bangkok, Thailand, where he’s spent the last seven years.

Noah’s latest book is Quick Draw! A charity comedy flash-fiction anthology, which is available on Amazon, or by clicking the following link

readerlinks.com/l/1504621

The Great D&D Satanic Panic of the 1980's

By Robert Bevan

Geekery today is different today than it was when I was growing up. Nerds are celebrities now. Hollywood can't put out superhero movies fast enough. Game of Thrones brought together people from all walks of life until it completely shat the bed in the last season. It might have been the biggest cultural phenomenon since LOST.

Until it completely shat the bed in the last season.

Until it completely shat the bed in the last season.

Today being a geek is something to be proud of. You wave that banner high. We live in an age where arguing in defense of your favorite starship captain doesn't necessarily end with you being shoved in a locker.

Perhaps the greatest metric with which to measure how far society has come in accepting, dare I say even embracing geek culture in this enlightened age, is how many fewer wedgies you can expect to receive for letting society know that you spend your Friday nights gathered around a gaming table with your closest friends, drinking beer, and playing some good old-fashioned D&D. This, of course, hasn't always been the case.

The 1980s were a particularly rough time for gaming enthusiasts. You didn't only have to worry about neon-clad teens baggin' your jank. You had to worry about their moms, and perhaps your own mom as well.

The world is a complicated place in which tragedies sometimes occur. All too often, the stupidest and/or laziest members of society will seek to compartmentalize all of their woes into one easy scapegoat. Salem had its witches. Nazi Germany had its Jews. McCarthy had his communists.

This guy’s got, like, fucking everybody.

This guy’s got, like, fucking everybody.

While certainly not the most tragic example, the Dungeons & Dragons Moral Panic, which briefly swept the nation in the 80s, is surely the second most pathetic (first place going to the gentleman pictured above).

A social outcast in the 1980s had enough shit piled on their plate as it was without Christian groups and ill-informed mothers banding together to take a big steamy dump on their one reprieve from the soul-crushing misery of their real lives.

But take a big steamy dump they did. Dungeons & Dragons became the go-to scapegoat for teen suicides, murder, and Satan worship.

Satan was a huge nerd in the 80’s.

Satan was a huge nerd in the 80’s.

These fears were preposterous, of course, based on unsubstantiated nonsense. The madness reached fever pitch in 1982 with the death of Patricia Pulling's son, Irving, after he shot himself in the chest (with a gun, mind you. NOT a magical elven longbow).

Pulling reacted as any grieving mother would, by suing TSR for making the game, and her son's high school principal for placing a curse on her son.

After both cases were thrown out of court for being what legal experts refer to as "fucking bananas", Pulling hopped on the crazy train and toured the country, spouting her batshit lunacy to whomever would listen.

She described D&D as "a fantasy role-playing game which uses demonology, witchcraft, voodoo, murder, rape, blasphemy, suicide, assassination, insanity, sex perversion, homosexuality, prostitution, satanic type rituals, gambling, barbarism, cannibalism, sadism, desecration, demon summoning, necromantics, divination and other teachings", which I can only take to mean that her son was a part of the most badass campaign in the game's history.

And much to the chagrin of anyone who was holding on to the tiniest flicker of hope for humanity's future, people listened.

Conservative Christian groups came out of the woodwork, striving for new heights of stupidity as if it were an Olympic sport.

Rev. Jon Quigley, of the Lakeview Full Gospel Fellowship, denounced the game as "an occult tool that opens up young people to influence or possession by demons," apparently blind to the irony of professing a belief in demons and the occult while condemning those who were aware that the game they were playing was strictly rooted in fantasy.

Dr. Thomas Radecki, the psychiatrist and champion of morality who would later go on to act as a research director for Doctors & Lawyers for a Drug Free Youth, and still later go on to be arrested for trading drugs to patients in exchange for sex, had some interesting things to say about the game back in the day.

"The game is full of human sacrifice, eating babies, drinking blood..."

A common rookie mistake is to show up at the table with just one baby, thinking it will cover all three primary requirements of the game. Imagine their embarrassment when Satan shows up to collect his living sacrifices.

A common rookie mistake is to show up at the table with just one baby, thinking it will cover all three primary requirements of the game. Imagine their embarrassment when Satan shows up to collect his living sacrifices.

Times have changed, though, and with it the values of society as a whole and those of gamers alike.

By the time Wizards of the Coast released the game's third edition, child sacrifice was largely eliminated, due to parent company Hasbro's concerns that it conflicted with the demographic their Pokémon toys were aimed at. (citation needed)

Human flesh has also been in decline as the preferred snack food at most gaming tables across the nation, giving way to more easily acquired treats, such as Cheetos. It makes sense when you think about it. In this age of smart phones and society's increasing insistence on speed and convenience, it's a lot easier to stop by Kroger on your way to the game and pick up a bag of chips than it is to hunt down and tackle a hobo.

Likewise, the Blood of Innocents is lessening in popularity as the beverage of choice for today's younger, more squeamish generation of gamers . Show up in the middle of most any D&D game these days, and you'll find them drinking urine instead.

Roleplaying should come from the heart, not from the bladder!

Roleplaying should come from the heart, not from the bladder!

While more traditionalist gamers may see these changes as an affront to their way of life, I tend to view them in a more positive light. The hobby is more widely and openly enjoyed today than ever before, bringing people from all walks of life together at a table to go on an imaginary adventure, and worship Satan in a more society-friendly manner. And isn't that what's really important?

But seriously, don't even get me started on that fourth edition bullshit.

Character Build: Tony the Jumping Barbarian

Submitted by: Johnathon Wilson

Complaining about grappling has been a D&D meme before memes were memeing. It used to involve at minimum four steps, with the grappled target getting to make an attack of opportunity when the grapple was initiated, and with different DC’s depending on creature sizes and successive grapple attempts.

In Fifth Edition, the grappler and grappled make a contested check (Athletics to grapple, and Athletics or Acrobatics to avoid), and that’s it. When a target is grappled their speed becomes 0, so they can’t move away unless they break the grapple, which takes a whole Action to do. That’s pretty simple and contextually powerful, especially since actually making the grapple check only requires a single Attack out of an Attack Action.

Jumping on the other hand is…..less simple. For starters you’ve got your long jump and your high jump, and then different modifiers depending on whether you’re standing still or if you moved at least 10 feet on foot before you jump. For a long jump, you can jump your strength SCORE if you take a ten foot lead up, and half that distance if you’re standing still. So a character with maxed out strength (at least without magical assistance) can jump 20 feet with a run, and 10 feet standing still. This is all without making any check (at least Rules as Written, your DM may want some kind of check depending on if it’s a clean jump or landing space), but every foot you jump costs you a foot of movement. A high jump uses the same principle of the ten foot pre-move, with total distance jump halved from a standstill. The difference is that you can only jump 3 + your strength MODIFIER feet for a high jump, so a max of 8 for even the strongest (again without magical buffing) character, and 4 feet if you’re standing still. Granted, this is supposed to be the distance your feet are travelling, as chapter 8 of the Players Handbook states that you can “…reach above you a distance equal to the height of the jump plus 1 ½ times your height”. So the highest a 6’4, max strength Goliath could reach is…17’6 feet? That’s honestly a lot higher than I thought it would be, but we’re just going to use the base jumping figure for consistency. With that in mind the 8 foot running high jump (3 + Strength modifier of 5 (from having 20 Strength)) is actually pretty solid seeing as the high jump world record is 2.45 m (8 ft ¼ in), set by Javier Sotomayor in 1993. That being said, BOOOOOOOOOOO. That’s nowhere near a high enough or long enough jump for my tastes, and fortunately I’ve found a solution that should surprise no one. Tony the Tiger.

As we all know, Tony the Tiger is a Barbarian. I really don’t feel any need to explain this so we’re just going to move on. Tasha’s Cauldron of Everything, a D&D 5E official supplement released in November of 2020 contains a wonderful new subclass for the Barbarian class, Path of the Beast. For the uninitiated, Barbarians in D&D are absurdly tough warriors that are designed to absorb damage so your pretty boy sorcerer doesn’t have to. Through the mystical power of getting super pissed off, Barbarians can enter a Rage which allows them to reduce incoming damage from weapons (specifically Bludgeoning, Slashing, and Piercing damage), and do more damage with their own weapons. For Tony, the most important part of that Frosted Flake fueled fury is the very first clause that gives you “…advantage on Strength checks”. But I’m getting ahead of myself, if you want to make Tony the Tiger you’re going to want to start with the Tabaxi race, D&D’s resident cat-people. Tabaxi’s come with a whole host of excellent features like darkvison, built in additional damage on unarmed strikes, a climbing speed, and Feline Agility. Feline Agility is really what we’re here for, as it allows you double your speed once per turn when you move, and then recharges once you don’t use any movement on your turn.

After getting Tabaxi set, you can use the standard point array or roll for your stats, as long as you prioritize Strength. Fortunately, Tasha’s Cauldron of Everything added an optional rule that allows players to allocate their stat increases however they want, instead of being beholden to the stats listed for the specific race. While it's been a controversial option, it's fantasatic for our purposes because it allows us to use the Standard Array (15, 14, 13, 12, 10, 8), and apply the +2 that Tabaxi usually get to Dexterity to Strength, and the +1 to Charisma to whatever else. I'd recommend bumping the 13 to a 14 for either Dexterity or Constitution, as you want both for a Barbarian, but that's not the focus of this build, the focus is jumping goddamn it.

The Path of the Beast gives Tony some great options, and is specifically designed to emulate a character with a powerful beastial spirit in them. At level 3, Tony gains the ability to grow natural weapons when he enters a Rage, the most notable of which for our purposes are the claws. This option lets you make a melee weapon attack with the claws for 1d6+ Strength modifier, and whenever you use the Attack Action to do so, you can make one additional attack with your claws. At level 4, we want to take the Skill Expert feat, another wonderful addition by Tasha. This feat gives you a +1 to an ability score of your choice (round up Strength to 18 for a +4 modifier), proficiency with a skill of your choice, and expertise in a skill you are proficient in. Expertise is usually something only seen in Bards and Rogues, that allows you to double your proficiency bonus for said skill. This allows for huge flat bonuses to certain skills, and is going to allow Tony to jump and grapple like a superhero. With the +1 to Strength, and expertise in Athletics, Tony's Athletics bonus goes up to +8 at level 4. At level 5, Tony gains the Extra Attack feature, and proficiency bonus increases to 3. This gives Tony a +10 bonus to Athletics checks, and when his claws are active he can now make an attack with his claws, a grapple check, and then another attack, all on the same turn.

Level 6 is where Tony really comes online, as the level 6 benefit of The Path of the Beast lets Tony choose a passive buff everytime he finishes a rest. This can either be the ability to climb like a spider, swim and breath underwater, or JUMP. I feel like our option is clear here. The jumping option allows you to, once per turn, make an Athletics check and extend your jump by that amount. At this point Tony has a +10 to Athletics, and advantage on Strength checks while raging, which is exactly what Athletics is. What does this give us? An average standing high jump of 23 feet (3 + 10 + 10 (average d20 roll)), an average standing long jump of 29 feet (9 (1/2 of strength score) + 10 + 10), an averge running high jump of 27 feet, and an average running long jump of 39 feet. By this point Barbarians have 40 feet of movement speed, which is even further supplemented by Feline Agility. Being able to double that to 80 feet allows Tony to pull of some wild stunts, like grappling an enemy spellcaster and then jumping away to take them to Tony's House of Pain.

“Jump around!”

“Jump around!”

Dragging a grappled creature halves the movement speed of the grappler, so being able to increase that speed through Feline Agility will actually let you make some moves that otherwise wouldn't have been possible. Isoating an enemy damage dealer is helpful, but it can also be helpful to pull an enemy healer into your team to lay the hurt on them. OR if you have a conveniently placed cliff or gap, you can always jump over it and just...let go. The grappling rules state that you can end a grapple with no action required, which means you can pretty easily yeet an enemy to their death if the fall is long enough. This capacity combined with the Path of the Beast free claw attack allows Tony to leverage grappling and jumping extremely well, maintain solid damage, and to get things done quickly. In a single turn at level 6 Tony can: Rage as a bonus action, make 2 claw attacks for 1d6 + 6 (+2 damage from Rage), a grapple check (with advantage from Rage and +10 from Athletics), and then jump away with his prey almost 30 feet straight up or horizontally. That's accounting for the halved movement speed from grappling, and the 10 foot lead up needed for a running long/high jump. As proficiency bonus scales up, so will Tony's overall jumping distance due to the bonus he'll receive to Athletics, increasing to +17 by level 17 ((+6 proficiency bonus) x2 +5 Strength bonus)), and up to +19 at level 20 thanks to the Barbarian capstone feature.

Woe to those who dare to whisper that Frosted Flakes are anything short of gr-r-r-r-r-reat, because if Tony finds out, you damn sure won't be able to get away.

If you haven’t seen #tonyisback, do yourself a favor.

If you haven’t seen #tonyisback, do yourself a favor.

Enhancing Your Dungeon with Environmental Hazards

By Nick Olivo

Your typical dungeon is populated with monsters, traps, and treasure. But there’s a fourth element, that, when incorporated properly, can make for a truly memorable game. And I’m talking about environmental hazards.

These are different from traps because there’s nothing to disarm, no Disable Device roll or Dexterity Check using Thieves’ Tools to simply bypass a problem. Players need to figure out how to best deal with these or how to avoid them all together, and that leads to some good role-playing opportunities, and can also make for some memorable battles.

Let’s take an example from a game I played in recently. My DM was running Storm King’s Thunder, and in one of the boss fights, we battled a stone giant priestess. That by itself was no big deal. The giant was a level-appropriate spellcaster who could summon earth elementals. If we were in a flat, open cavern, then the fight would’ve been pretty quick – surround and pound. But instead, the giant was on an island surrounded by a substance called gorgon mud. If you fell in and failed a CON save, your movement was reduced by half. If you failed a second time, you turned to stone. The giant and the elementals were immune to the mud’s effects, and so their main tactic was to try and push the PCs into the mud. We had two of the party turned to stone and the rest of us narrowly survived what was very nearly a TPK. It wasn’t the elementals or the giant that was the biggest threat here, it was the mud.

Observers also reported parts of their bodies becoming as hard as stone.

Observers also reported parts of their bodies becoming as hard as stone.

You can see how a very simple encounter can get ratcheted up to eleven by incorporating the right sort of environmental hazard. So let’s look at the different kinds of hazards you can incorporate.

Let’s start out with terrain. Lava is a nearly impassible barrier to low-level PCs, both blocking their path and dealing damage if they get too close to it. Normal mud can slow the party’s movement while enemies harry them with arrows and ranged spells. Rivers can split the battlefield and create chokepoints at bridges as the party tries to cross. Uneven ground or steppes will prevent the party from using ideal battle formations, and cliffs offer advantages to baddies that can fly. In caverns, stalagmites and stalactites offer cover to their denizens, to say nothing of the ropers that might be hiding among the stones.

You should also consider natural hazards, or hazards that may come about from the environment your adventure is set in. In many adventures, the PCs trek through sewers like they’re underground highways, and yet, sewers would be difficult terrain if the waste gets too deep, and slippery. There’s also a risk of disease from the filth and suffocation from gas build up. And there’s the possibility that said gas explodes if a sword causes a spark when it strikes an enemy, or if the wizard lets a firebolt loose at the wrong time.

Also, and I don’t feel this can be overstated, you’re in a fucking sewer.

Also, and I don’t feel this can be overstated, you’re in a fucking sewer.

A clever DM can employ other kinds of natural hazards. So if the PCs start a fight with monsters raiding a small town, maybe they set off a cattle stampede, and now the party has to avoid getting trampled while still fighting their foes.

And of course, we can’t forget magical hazards. These are things like the aforementioned gorgon mud; green slime, which drips onto players and deals acid damage; yellow mold, whose spores poison the players; and honestly, whatever else you can dream up. Were the ancient ruins the party just found the site of a massive human sacrifice? Maybe some of the terror and rage from that event still lingers in the structure, and if the PCs are standing in a particular location, they have to make WIS saves to resist going into a rage and attacking everything, or to avoid being frightened and losing their actions.

When planning your adventure, start out by figuring out what monster the PCs will face. Then, build out their lair. Ask yourself, what sort of environmental hazard would complement a particular creature? A fire-based creature, like a salamander or a fire mephit, is immune to fire damage, so lava won’t bother them. Heck, they probably bathe in the stuff. Let’s say the party is exploring an abandoned dwarven citadel, only to discover that the giant lake of lava that once powered the Eldritch Dwarven Forge is now a red dragon’s bathtub.

Undead are immune to poison, so yellow mold is just window dressing to them. Imagine a moldy old tomb, zombies and skeletons staggering around, setting off spores of yellow mold that poison the PCs. And now the PCs have to fight waves of undead while trying to make saves so as not to succumb to the poison’s effects.

Any home inspector worth his salt can spot the telltale signs of a mold problem.

Any home inspector worth his salt can spot the telltale signs of a mold problem.

The Dungeon Master's Guide and Tasha’s Cauldron of Everything both have sections on hazards and how to employ them. DMs should familiarize themselves with these and employ them whenever it makes sense. These small touches, sometimes as simple as adding mold to a room, can change the game experience completely. The party now not only has to figure out how to deal with the monsters, but how to handle the terrain, environment, and hazards those present. It can take what would normally be a simple undead-bashing adventure and turn it into a game session that your players recall for years to come.

Subverting Expectations and Story Structure, or How to Earn Your Plot Twists.

Submitted by: Johnathon Wilson

One of the most important things about storytelling is being aware of the audience’s expectations, and then either fulfilling them or subverting them depending on the story.

You can all but guarantee that a Hallmark movie is going to be a paint-by-the-numbers three act story, where the protagonist and their love interest have a miscommunication at the end of act two that’s resolved in act three. That being said, people watch the crap out of those because sometimes people want the safety and familiarity of knowing what they’re going to get.

“Your genital warts enhance my pleasure. I WILL marry you!”

“Your genital warts enhance my pleasure. I WILL marry you!”

While I may personally want every romantic comedy to take a hard turn into sci-fi or horror, not everyone does, and that’s ok. It all comes down to knowing what your audience wants and then giving it to them, which is why I stress how important it is to know your audience before you do anything else.

When you have an idea of what your table is looking for, you can figure out how to give it to them, while also surprising them and keeping them excited. A lot of the how is going to depend on your players, and how much meta-knowledge they have about D&D in general. For instance, my players know a lot about the game and the books that accompany it. They’re familiar with various monsters' strengths/weaknesses, as well as the relative threat levels of said monsters, so I end up mixing in a bit of re-flavoring of monsters to catch them by surprise. This isn’t always necessary, and I’ll talk about how encounter design and dynamic terrain can keep combat fresh for even the most seasoned players in a future post. Now, let’s take a look at how to be aware of expectations on a macro level for your games.

When I say macro level, what I mean is the broader concept of your game and what kind of overall story is being told. It can help to be familiar with story-telling arcs in literature, but isn’t strictly necessary to run a fun game. For instance, most hero-based stories follow a common narrative arc where the hero overcomes challenges to grow and be better than they were at the beginning of the story. This occurs through establishing a baseline for the hero, introducing a catalyst (they find out they’re the chosen one, have latent magical powers, receive an offer they can’t refuse etc.), then the hero grows in power until they experience a major setback, which they then overcome in act three to complete their journey.

“At long last, I can jerk off with my left hand.”

“At long last, I can jerk off with my left hand.”

I mention this because even if we can’t all articulate it, these are story beats we are all intimately familiar with. We have expectations that we’ve been taught for decades through every media source, and it can be helpful as a DM to take the time to consider where your story is at and where it’s going.

If you can successfully identify what kind of story your game has become, then you can also fundamentally alter that trajectory and surprise your players. I will say that big shifts like this are tougher than smaller level subversions, and require more preparation, but are still possible. Completely changing the course of a story/game like that requires that your players trust you, because depending on the execution it could feel cheap. To avoid this I would recommend only trying such dramatic shifts with more experienced players, or at the very least players who you have established a deep trust with.

The most crucial thing about macro level subversions is that they are built off the back of the information you present your players with during your sessions. You can have all the plans you want, but if you don’t provide the story breadcrumbs for your players then you won’t have the necessary story weight for your reveal.

Hansel and Gretel would come to regret leaving the forest.

Hansel and Gretel would come to regret leaving the forest.

An example of one of these macro subversions could be a story where your adventurers are hired by a guild or city to do various jobs, killing rats and whatnot, as they level up and ingratiate themselves into whatever the association is. You introduce the valiant leadership, be it a queen/king or headmaster, as well as their supporting cast which could include a blatantly villainous advisor. The expectation of that would be that the advisor seeks to undermine their ruler, thereby taking the throne on their own. As the heroes advance, they learn of a Serious Threat to the Kingdom, be it a nearby tribe of barbarians or devilish incursion. This is all fairly standard so far, but also leaves opportunities to change the underlying narrative into something new. Perhaps a very high perception check near the ruler (20+) allows the players to notice something off about said ruler, be it a strange tattoo behind the ear or on their wrist. Or perhaps a casting of Detect Magic reveals a necromantic aura around them, either way, some manner of breadcrumb so the clues COULD be found but aren’t guaranteed. From here you have the options of: ruler is secretly evil, ruler is secretly possessed, the advisor is actually a Good Guy, or the invasion is being done for different reasons that the heroes are told. You can tell any story you want and take whatever turns you want, as long as you put in the preparation and effort to earn those turns.

Mining Your PC's Background for Adventure Ideas

By Nick Olivo

If you’re a Dungeon Master, you need to give your players a reason to go along with the adventure you’re running. Every now and then the party can just take the quest from the random old man in the tavern, but if that’s how you introduce every adventure, your players will get bored.

“I’ll give you 500 experience points if you can make my dick hard again.”

“I’ll give you 500 experience points if you can make my dick hard again.”

To really get the players invested, we need to make it personal. We need what’s going on in the world to matter to the PCs, and we do that by mining their backstories.

Some players will make this easy for you. They might come up with a detailed backstory on their own, and you can work with them to bring elements of that into the game. But other players may not be up for coming up with something like that, and you don’t want to leave them out. And a great place to start is their PC’s background.

All the backgrounds in D&D 5e offer mechanical bonuses, but they also provide a wealth of opportunities for you as the DM. Let’s take a look at each of the backgrounds included in the Player’s Handbook and come up with some possibilities for each one.

Acolytes served gods, and typically pantheons run with diametrically opposed deities. If the PC served a god of healing, introduce a cult from the goddess of disease. If the PC served a goddess of the harvest, introduce a cult from the god of famine.

Charlatans have a rich set of possibilities. The fallout from people they’ve scammed is the biggest one. Have someone recognize them and call out the city watch. Or have one of their criminal contacts reach out to them because they need help handling a mark, and that mark turns out to be a member of the party. Inter-party conflict is always lots of fun, provided your group is mature enough to handle it.

“I’ll handle it, but that’ll cost you five more gold pieces.”

“I’ll handle it, but that’ll cost you five more gold pieces.”

Criminals may get jobs from Thieves’ Guilds, or if they’re an independent, the Guild may harass them into joining. The Guild might even frame the PC for things they didn’t do, to have the PC serve as an example to others. Or they might blackmail the PC into doing jobs for them, lest the guild expose them to the rest of the world.

Entertainers have lots of possibilities. Think about Rock Stars. They have fans, groupies, and occasionally someone gets obsessed with them. Maybe willing to kill for them. Maybe someone is driven by a desperate need to become them…

Folk Heroes have a Defining Event as part of their backstory. Grab on to that. If the PC stole from a corrupt merchant, have that merchant open a shop in the next town that the party reaches. If they received a blessing from a celestial, have an infernal creature mark that folk hero for destruction.

Guild Artisans – No matter what guild business the PC was part of, guild secrets make for great adventure hooks. Maybe the PC needs to steal something from a rival guild, or sabotage a rival’s efforts.

Hermits seem like tough ones on the surface, but their Discovery feature actually makes them quite easy. What was it that the PC discovered during their isolation? A truth about the gods may make the gods want to silence the PC. An evil cult may want the relic they found, or a map to the ancient ritual site they discovered.

“Show me where you have hidden the clitoris.”

“Show me where you have hidden the clitoris.”

Nobles are easy – the family the PC comes from has business rivals and skeletons in the closet. The PC may uncover that their grandfather conducted shady dealings with dark forces in exchange for business success, and now that dark force has come calling for someone to pay the check.

Outlanders may have come across temples to forgotten gods, or have contacts among the poachers who hunt in forbidden places. And being able to always know the layout of terrain and settlements is invaluable to smuggling, whether it’s illicit goods or freeing slaves.

Sages know things, and sometimes the things they know get them killed. An NPC scholar sends one of the PCs a cryptic note asking them to meet the NPC to discuss a discovery they’ve made, only to have the NPC found dead and now the PCs have to solve their murder.

Sailors will have a crew that they once served with. Have the former crew turn to piracy, and then give the PCs a mission to bring them to justice. Or the ship they sailed on is the latest to have sunk under suspicious circumstances, and the PCs need to investigate sea monster attacks or a Bermuda Triangle like phenomenon.

Or they may need a cure for chlamydia.

Or they may need a cure for chlamydia.

Soldiers once belonged to a unit or company, and maybe now the last member of the enemy forces they vanquished is systematically killing all the members of the PC’s old unit one by one, until the PC becomes the final target.

Urchins will have had dealings with gangs, possibly contact with criminal organizations, but will also know some good people who showed them kindness as well. Maybe the kind old baker who gave them bread and kept them from starving has been arrested for a crime they didn’t commit, and now it’s up to the PC to save them from the gallows.

These are just a handful of suggestions you can use in your games, but it’s easy to see how you can turn a PC’s backstory into an adventure. Several of the things mentioned (coming up with the Hermit’s Discovery, or the Soldier’s former company) should be done in conjunction with the players, while others, like the obsessed groupie for the entertainer, can be just the DM. But by making things personal, you’re ensuring the players will be more vested in what’s going on, and that will lead to a richer and more enjoyable game overall.

Managing Expectations for Your Gaming Table

Submitted by: Johnathon Wilson

If you’ve spent enough time rolling d20s, there’s a good chance you’ve seen a variety of different Game Masters, either at your own table, your local game shop, or virtually through people like Drew Hayes on the Authors & Dragons podcast.

In fact, this access to different styles of running the game is one of the things that makes our current D&D renaissance so unique. Whether you were playing AD&D in the 80s, or 2E in the 90s, it was unlikely you’d see another DM outside of your home table unless you went to a tournament or convention. This means that nobody had the opportunity to see professional actors and voice actors spend countless hours perfecting a campaign, for better or worse.

“My kingdom for a Mountain Dew!”

“My kingdom for a Mountain Dew!”

While this does mean that earlier generations were deprived of Silas Kane, it also means that DM’s of the time didn’t have potentially unrealistic standards to compare themselves to. In my time behind the screen, I’ve realized a few things that I think make my games wonderful for myself and my players, and I’d like to take some time to talk about how important it is to manage expectations for players and yourself as a DM.

The single most important thing I’ve learned is that the best way to play D&D is however everyone at your table wants to play it. Everyone has a little different taste for their balance of roleplay/combat/exploration, and for their expectations of what a session is like and overall game structure. Do your players want to be heroes of legend? Crushing evil underfoot and bathing heretics in their burning purity? Or do they want to get nasty and do some evil shit?

Pictured: Nasty evil shit.

Pictured: Nasty evil shit.

Either way they spin it, a DM needs to know what their players are looking for so they can figure out what they can and want to deliver on. I find that players have the most fun when their boundaries are respected with regards to overall theme and limits, and their expectations are subverted with regards to immediate experiences. Subverting immediate expectations isn’t a requirement by any stretch, but at a certain point in any campaign some surprise is always welcome.

For instance, most of my players are looking for high-powered games with lots of combat. They want to roll a lot of dice and get those big crits bay-bee, but we also leave pretty much all sexual content out of it. We have little to no romance in our games, and absolutely no sexual violence even from the evilest of enemies.

“Roll initiative, motherfucker.”

“Roll initiative, motherfucker.”

We’ve had campaigns where we played as Evil characters, but even then it was more just a group of selfish assholes than truly reprehensible characters. Well, except for Archie the Necromancer, that guy was a fucking nightmare. Even with these pretty cookie cutter standards we have, I’ve still been able to surprise them with unexpected story beats.

One of my favorite examples is a party that was hired to kill a vampire and steal a magic flute from him. While he was an Evil vampire, their employer lied to them about what the flute actually was and their intentions for it, and that action kick-started some…less than favorable outcomes. So, while they still got to be heroic adventurers, they also neglected to do their due diligence and ended up making a bad situation worse. What I’m trying to say is that the DM needs to help the table find their lane, and then they can experiment within the agreed upon boundaries of that lane to provide a great experience for everyone. I’ll talk some more about how to specifically subvert expectations in a later post, as there are ways to accomplish this on a macro and micro scale, both of which are important depending on your goals.

Now that I’ve talked about how to plan for your players expectations, I want to make it clear that it’s just as important to manage your expectations as a DM. People often talk about railroad vs sandbox games, but I’ve found that outside of specifically themed adventures (mostly holiday themed one-shots that spawn into 6 sessions), most games are a blend of the two. The implication of this for the DM is that there’s going to be times when your players spend a session investigating a well instead of the dungeon you painstakingly designed. I think this is one of the trickier things for new DM’s to deal with, and part of the reason railroading is attractive. As a DM you put a ton of work into making something for your players to enjoy, and you want to be able to see them enjoy it.

When I first started out I avoided all of it by having my players be gladiators in an arena, as we were looking for an excuse to roll some dice and didn’t care about being painfully unoriginal. That campaign grew over time into something more than just a weekly encounter, something with genuine characters and consequences, almost all of which were dictated by the decisions of my players. My take away from the 5 years that game has spanned is that whatever we create is meant to be enjoyed by the players, and that as a DM we have to expect that the end result may not be what we planned. That doesn’t mean players aren’t grateful, just that they’re playing with your creation and testing it out. It’s a living thing this game, and while a DM may be the hardest working component, we are also just one of the components that makes it work. I’ve personally felt the frustration of feeling like my creation wasn’t being enjoyed the “right” way, and it’s taken reflection and communication with my players to realize that managing my expectations behind the screen is crucial to the long term health of a campaign.

That being said, the DM has to have fun too! If you aren’t enjoying yourself, then nobody will have fun, and why spend all that time and energy on something that doesn’t give back to you? What I’ve found is that there is an immense amount of joy at seeing my players fully engaged in something I created, something that’s interesting or challenging enough that they become lost in it. If I can create a place where they can have fun and disengage from the stress of daily life, well that’s a pretty big win for me.




Get Paid to Write for Caverns & Creatures!

It’s high time I’ve done something more with this website, and I’d like to invite you to take part in expanding the C&C brand. Hell, I’ll even pay you.

“So… Do you, um… blog?”

“So… Do you, um… blog?”

As many of you know, I used to write a blog a while back. Eventually, I began to run out of fresh ideas, and blog writing started to take too much time away from my book writing. However, I do sometimes miss writing blog posts, and I certainly miss the traffic they brought to the website.

Unfortunately, I still don’t have the time or mental energy to consistently put out new blog material, but maybe you do.

Do you have opinions on what qualities define a good player or Game Master?

Is there a particular spell or monster you feel is underappreciated?

Do you have your ear to the ground for recent news in the gaming world?

Any of these might make a good blog post, and I’m sure you can come up with better ideas than what I just pulled out of my ass. For every article/post I accept, I’ll pay you $25. After I get a feel for how this is going, that rate will probably increase.

I’m looking for articles/posts around 500 - 1,000 words long. They don’t have to be funny, but they do need to be original. Don’t copy and paste something from your own blog, and for fuck’s sake don’t copy someone else’s work.
Fill out the form below to submit a pitch. Thank you for your time, and happy writing!