Ben Stovall Blog

Author: Ben Stovall

  • Homebrew Mechanic: Heroic Vignettes

    Homebrew Mechanic: Heroic Vignettes

    In my tenure as a GM, I’ve never been fond of encounters with a clear outcome. Spending upwards of half-an-hour running turn-by-turn combat where the characters are only in danger if they play extremely foolishly just doesn’t entice me. A battle needs stakes to be interesting at all, a chance for the party to fail, a consequence looming overhead, or it feels rote and my narration of events suffers from my disinterest.

    At lower levels, every fight can carry a threat of permanent character death from poor decisions or poorer luck, but as my party reached the higher tiers of character power in my campaign, I needed a new solution. They had many enemies that had their own wealth of resources to bring to bear, but running every battle against an array of grunts or mooks was just going to waste time we could spend on more interesting battles.

    So, I devised Heroic Vignettes. I mentioned this idea in passing in my Defining Dungeons post, but I’ve since had another chance to use this mechanic and I think it’s got real teeth. So, what better place to share it out than here?

    The Basics

    The idea began with me wanting to give my players a chance to use their hit die to recover from a battle when there absolutely wouldn’t be enough time for a short rest in our 5e D&D game. However, they had all of their hit die available to them, and I didn’t want them to be able to just spend all their hit die to reach full health without a worry. So, I created small instances – scenarios where a hero’s intervention would ensure a heroic result. As an example, my first use was during an attack on a city, and some townspeople were trying to evacuate some children, but the invaders were charging to slay them. These attackers were not going to be threatening to my party of 16th level adventurers, but they would annihilate the children and their shepherds.

    So, electing to intervene, I asked the table to expend four of their hit die. Any of the four players could choose to expend the cost and in any variation: one player could spend four, intervening alone; they could have two characters split, each spending two; or all four of them could spend one. Whatever their decision, they spent the required hit die and rolled it, suffering whatever they rolled as incidental damage from the skirmish.

    There were several more instances where they could spend their hit die and intervene, then, at the end of the gauntlet as they approached the next battle that would be run in initiative, I allowed them to spend whatever hit die they had left to heal as if from a short rest.

    I also told them that would be the intention from the start. As we launched into the heroic vignettes, they all understood that any hit die they spent intervening they would not be able to use later to recover. But, they were quite high level adventurers with many hit die at their disposal, and they elected to intervene in each scenario I’d built and still recovered well for the further fights.

    Open-Ended Vignettes

    Just last week, I used this mechanic for the second time. My party is now four 20th level adventurers, making their way toward what might be the final boss encounter of the campaign. They’ve come to a land to slay a primordial elemental that was never meant to be on the prime material plane, but there are two forces they have to contend with: the Tempest Faithful, a cult devoted to this living storm, and He Who Has Laid Claim to the Skies, a storm giant who has gained the allegiance of a goliath clan to attempt to shackle the Primordial Tempest to their will and reclaim the ancient glory of their people.

    This tribe of goliaths had attacked a flying city home to a clan of dwarves, Ava Dannad. The goliath tribe is massive, swollen with conquered tribes from elsewhere on the continent, but they are pretty run-of-the-mill combatants. Without attacking in ludicrous numbers, they shouldn’t serve as much of a threat to a party of four 20th level heroes – these are some of the mightiest people that may ever exist, after all.

    My players wanted to strike into Ava Dannad using Transport via Plants and make a ruckus to draw out the storm giant and the tribe’s leader to battle them before they reached the Tempest. Rather than run several rote encounters with minimal danger, we launched into freeform heroic vignettes. I asked them to tell me how they would like to draw out or incense the goliaths and then we worked out how many hit die they might spend for each battle, and rolled to tally a score that once attained would successfully draw the giant from his perch. They also had a deadline as the giant was having the flying city crash into a mountainside.

    They had several great ideas, using skills or the environment, using details about goliath culture they knew to incense them, casting Daylight on themselves to make a beacon visible through the storm raging all around to draw their enemies in. For each hit die they spent, we rolled 1d10 (with a few other bonus die thrown in for particularly good ideas) to rack up to a score of 200 that they needed to get the giant to come fight them. It still came down to the wire, with the battle against this storm giant and the champion of the goliath tribe meeting them when the city was a mere 5 rounds (we rolled 2d4) from crashing into the mountainside. And, as before, they were allowed to spend their remaining hit die to recover before that encounter and it still was a tough fight.

    So that’s Heroic Vignettes. It accomplishes a lot in maintaining scope and world consistency without dragging extra hours of easy encounters into the field. I’m interested to see how I might be able to adapt this mechanic for Pathfinder in the future when we start using that system. For now, I think it’s a wonderful tool for 5e D&D games, and every tool we can put into our toolbox as GMs enriches our games all that much more. As always, thank you for reading! Good luck out there, heroes.

  • Warcraft: Mythic+ Affixes Are Overbearing

    Warcraft: Mythic+ Affixes Are Overbearing

    Since its addition in Legion, Warcraft’s Mythic+ dungeons have become an insanely popular endgame activity. I’ve participated in most seasons, missing only seasons 3 and 4 of Shadowlands while I was unsubscribed. Overall, it’s been a huge boon to the game. Mythic+ serves as a PVE activity that doesn’t require the level of investment and set-up that raiding needs.

    The system has survived some large changes since its inception. Fortified and Tyrannical were originally envisioned as a hurdle for keys beyond level 10, but are now present on all keystones. We’ve seen several affixes nerfed, rotating seasonal affixes, and some that have been introduced and removed entirely.

    Presently, Blizzard is testing a new slate of affixes on the Public Test Realm, and much of the player base has had few kind things to say for them. Many players find the affixes to be unduly impactful, to the extent that players have to focus more on avoiding the negative consequences of failing the affixes over battling the mechanics designed specifically for the dungeon.

    Others claim this criticism is the whining of a player that lacks the skill to engage with the affixes as they are. However, many of the top-rated Mythic+ players share these opinions, as I do. And, while I’m certainly not in the realm of the very best players, I’ve never lacked the ability to attain the goals I chase in the game.

    But, as a pre-emptive counter to anyone who would discredit this post on the merit of skill or accomplishment, here is my raider.io profile. I have two characters beyond the rating threshold for Keystone Hero and several Keystone Master achievements.

    Now, let’s talk affixes: new, old, and philosophically.

    Playing the Affix

    The most criticized affixes are the ones that become so intrusive to the standard gameplay that they overshadow the usual dungeon experience, such as Explosive and Sanguine.

    With Explosive, we are constantly battling our UI to kill these priority target bombs before they explode for heavy group-wide damage. For many players, the task of killing these bombs falls on the healer’s shoulders – at the lower levels of play, players are unlikely to swap targets and kill them, while at the top-end of play, the group loses the least amount of damage throughput if the healer defeats them all. Since these spawns scale with the number of enemies engaged, many orbs might be active at once, rolling throughout the duration of a fight. On the PTR over the weekend, there was an adjustment in testing to make these orbs several more times durable, but with a reduced spawn frequency.

    Now, conceptually, I don’t think this was a bad direction. However, the pool of hit points tested over the weekend was bloated such that players were simply ignoring them outright with their spawn cadence. I’d prefer to see the spawn rate reduced further, but I think another nerf to both values would be an even an even better adjustment. UPDATE: Blizzard has since proposed a huge change to the functionality of Explosive orbs, having them instead shield enemies based on the health remaining instead of damaging the party. I think this would be better for the experience of the affix, but I don’t think it addresses much the feeling of playing against the affix over the dungeon. We’ll see how it works when that begins testing.

    Then, Sanguine requires a dedication to movement and area control beyond what is usually asked by the affixes or base dungeon mechanics. Even the tools players bring to aid the tank in repositioning monsters are suspect in many scenarios, with enemies that are immune to knockback and grip effects, or uninterruptible casts, which adds an element of target prioritization on top of this affix’s asks. I think it’s wrong to say that all affixes shouldn’t affect tanks because of the role they play in the group, but I think Sanguine is a bit heavy handed in that it requires the tank’s engagement the most with minimal impact from the other players.

    There’s even a couple more affixes that have been adjusted since their introduction, but would’ve fit here before: Bursting and Bolstering.

    Bursting changes the way every pull in a dungeon should be played, with the enemies afflicting the players with a stacking damage-over-time effect for each enemy they kill. This extends the danger of a pull beyond the point where the monsters are dead, and asks for halting damage to prevent refreshing the damage effect’s duration. It’s since had a change to make it dispellable, allowing a class-utility counter to make it much more bearable with a priest’s Mass Dispel, but I haven’t chosen to run a dungeon with this affix without a priest all season, and not all groups have that luxury.

    Bolstering once called for adjusting target priority on many pulls in a dungeon, but the new duration limit on the buff has significantly reduced the impact of pulls with one monster of higher health than the smaller creatures around it that die from passive cleave.

    And there’s many more affixes that contribute negatively to the experience of running dungeons without overtaking the gameplay loop to the degree of those above outliers. Quaking hits casters harder than tanks and melee players by interrupting their casts and has required multiple specific exceptions to be installed to avoid catastrophic overlaps; Raging can create unavoidable one-shot damage instances with the only counter being large defensive cooldowns or limited soothe effects; Overflowing affected some healers much more negatively than others; Necrotic and Skittish put more responsibility on the tank in an unfun way; Inspiring created painful monster groups by restricting the use of the class tools we had to overcome dangerous enemies; Infested and Beguiling were infuriating to deal with throughout their respective seasons.

    And I think it’s bad for dungeon affixes to exist solely in this space – to add only annoyance to a dungeon. These were originally created to add variance to the dungeons week-to-week, because, for most people, running the same encounters ad infinitum would get stale fast.

    But Blizzard doesn’t seem to agree. Let’s look at those new test affixes.

    Our New Afflictions

    So, available for testing over the weekend, we had Incorporeal, Afflicted, and Entangling. Despite the callout, Afflicted looked to be the least offensive of these three. It functions a lot like explosive, but in reverse. A ghost spawns with low health and dispellable afflictions. Removing any of these effects or healing the ghost to full health removes the ghost. Should the ghost be left alone, it afflicts the party with a Haste reduction (which we don’t want). Unlike Explosive, the affix is presented more directly healer-facing. They can address it with their usual game play, and hybrid classes can ease the burden at low-cost, and I think both have factored into its reception thus far.

    Then, there’s Incorporeal, which has been adjusted a bit for the better since the weekend’s testing, but I still think could use a redesign. These creatures require direct crowd control effects or kicks to prevent them from massively hampering your group, but you generally would like to invest those abilities into the dungeon’s monsters instead. However, since it’s intended that they be immune to damage, and things like Blind, Polymorph, Hex, or Hibernate would deal with them completely, I think they’re not in as worse a place as they were when those effects were breaking.

    And, last, we have Entangling. Like Quaking before it, this affix is just going to be at its worst creating painful overlaps with the dungeon’s mechanics. I know it’s going away next season, but imagine this effect occurring during Odyn’s runes in Halls of Valor. That extra delay of movement could spell catastrophe for an otherwise successful key. In Blizzard’s post, they do talk about increasing the visual clarity of the effect, which was a pain point for testers over the weekend.

    Even as unintrusive as Afflicted looks, these affixes are all still annoyances to be layered onto the game. But I think it’s wrong to behave like that’s the best or only avenue to add challenge to the game.

    Examining the Philosophy

    In the past, I had discussions about my grips with the Mythic+ system and often talked about Hades, an isometric roguelite with fantastic game play. After you’ve had a successful clear or two, the game opens up a “Heat” system, where you can elect to add on additional modifier to make the run more challenge, and more rewarding.

    There’s options here that would be an annoyance if they were prescribed: enemies need to be hit a number of times before they begin taking damage; monsters can deal up to 100% more damage and have up to 30% more life or both; you have to sacrifice a boon to climb between the underworld regions; you put yourself on a timer. Yet, these never felt intrusive because of two reasons: one, they affected the “Heat” of the run at different values, so harder affixes increased the rewards more; and two, you picked every single effect you were going to deal with on a run. So, why the hell doesn’t Warcraft do it that way?

    Well, as far as picking your poison goes, I don’t think it would work as well in Warcraft. Hades is played solo, while Mythic+ is a 5-man group activity with the active player base of an MMO. Everyone having the same affixes on their key every week is good for people forming and joining groups. It just wouldn’t work as well to go from Volcanic in one key to realizing you have Spiteful ghosts chasing you down on the next.

    As for the former, there is a built-in rating system for Mythic+, and Tyrannical and Fortified already provide semi-separate score values, but I don’t think increasing the requisite investment to have all players engage with every affix would be health for the game. Currently, you can get a real decent rating on one month’s subscription, but if every affix had its own point contribution, it’d take several weeks to clear your scorecard of any zeroes.

    So, fundamentally, I think affixes-as-annoyances is a bad design space for Warcraft. It is good for the process of grouping to have keys prescribed for the week, and detrimental that we cannot opt-in to the annoyances.

    So, I’d propose–

    Affixes-as-Boons

    I think affixes should exist. Tyrannical and Fortified don’t need to go anywhere; they do a lot of the legwork in modifying the week-to-week experience in these dungeons.

    But positive-effect affixes – even built as a reward for engaging with something like Afflicted – would be better than what we have. I don’t propose this as a way to make dungeons easier; I’d want to see it paired with an adjustment to the overall scaling, so that obtaining the benefits from the affixes would affect the dungeon’s success.

    I wouldn’t even begrudge the existence of an annoyance affix paired with a boon affix. Just by virtue of design, the affixes will always be less interesting than the dungeon mechanics, because the affixes must be designed to be applied to all the dungeons, whereas a boss or monster pack have a lot more freedom in their design space.

    What affixes do to add variety to dungeons in the long-term is valuable, but instead of each week ending with the sentiment, “That goodness I don’t have to deal with that anymore,” dungeon affixes could instead foster excitement for the gameplay opportunities they provide. At the very least, I’d be interested to try.

    As always, thank you for reading. I’m looking forward to starting the climb all over again in season two, even with all my complaints. I just wonder if things can be better. Now, to get after these last few portals for my paladin …

  • Revisiting the Last of Us Part II

    Revisiting the Last of Us Part II

    In June of 2020, a sequel many never thought would come released on the Playstation 4. When the news of a new entry in the Last of Us world was first announced, I was tentative. The first game ended so well, and I wasn’t sure how a direct sequel would affect the ambiguous and emotional ending between Joel and Ellie. But, one day, I watched Grounded: The Making of the Last of Us; I saw the care and thought and effort that was poured into the game, and I felt assured that the team behind the game wouldn’t rush headlong into anything without that same level of love.

    I ended up with an unfortunately uncommon experience with the game. As anticipated as its release came, in the last few weeks before its debut, there was a massive leak. Major story elements were laid bare as walls of text on the internet. Many people had their experience with this game poisoned by these leaks. I, oblivious to their existence entirely, avoided these spoilers and managed to meet the story where it asked to be met.

    The Last of Us Part II was every bit the sequel the first game deserved. For three consecutive days, I was enthralled by the game. I barely did anything else at all. When I was in the last section of the game, my then-roommate-who-was-actually-just-moving-out came by to gather some of his things, and found me there in the living room. He asked how I was liking the game, and when I said it was fantastic, I knew he’d expected me to have the opinion that was circulating on the internet already.

    I never managed to find any clarity about why people were mad about this game when it released. There were some comments that were unmasked homo- and transphobia, but the criticism was so mainstream it didn’t seem like that could be the cornerstone to the wider reaction. There were people that dismissed the story as basic and overbearing, but those comments were rarely insightful about what the story was saying or the details of the plot. There were people who criticized the story structure, and I will admit it is unusual in its shape, but that is not at all without purpose.

    Revisiting the game, examining where the discourse online has shifted in the nearly three years since its release – that brought all these criticisms back to mind. And, I didn’t have a blog back then, so I’m going to talk about it now. This is my space after all, I get to do whatever the hell I want with it.

    Spoilers ahead – and since this game is getting adapted, I sincerely recommend disengaging with this post if you haven’t experienced the story before. Maybe come back in a couple years, or give the game a go: but just as this story was damaged by the leaks before its release, this story is best experienced as the authors intended. Do not let me ruin it for you.

    Here we go.

    A Quick Rundown of Events

    As mentioned, there’s been a lot said about the narrative structure of this game. And, well, it is unusual. Everything carries on at a pretty normal clip, then you reach the moment you’ve been anticipating for a dozen hours. Abby and Ellie finally meet again, there’s a gun at-the-ready and–hard stop. Flashback.

    You’re Abby now. She’s plagued by nightmares about her father’s death. It’s three days ago. You’ve got practically the same amount of game ahead of you as behind you, just to get back to where you just were, to see what happens next.

    Also, you hate Abby. Maybe you don’t want to play as her, but it’s the only way forward. So, you keep going. You see Abby’s struggles, see the horror she puts up with. We see that vengeance didn’t bring her peace, but opening herself up and helping a pair of strangers – that does. Like Joel in the game before, a relationship with a child brings Abby back in touch with her humanity, and many of us are able to look beyond the worst things she’s ever done and forgive her.

    Then we get slammed with the discovery of the carnage Ellie left in her wake. And we know why Abby would want to get revenge again. There you are, back at the theater.

    You fight Ellie as Abby, and the fight only ends one way: Abby victorious, but sparing Ellie and Dina because of Lev, because of wanting to be better for Lev.

    Some time passes, and we see Ellie and Dina on a farm. On the surface, it looks like it’s over. Like Ellie is past it all and has found some peace. But, she hasn’t. She’s plagued with nightmares about her father’s death. She’s barely human – not eating, not sleeping. To her, it doesn’t seem like anything other than the vengeance denied to her will bring her peace. And she abandons her happy ending because this character is just too human for it all to end perfectly.

    She hunts Abby down across-country, one last time. She fights through a stronghold of some of the worst scum that humanity has become since the infection: the Rattlers. People who use the infected to torture slaves for their own amusement. It’s hell fighting through them and Ellie is horribly wounded the whole time, and you finally find Abby crucified in their camp with Lev for trying to escape. She’s a shell of her former self, withered and weak, but she’s alive. You cut her down and she immediately goes to Lev and gets him down, carrying him down to some boats nearby. Ellie follows, and she seems so disconnected. Part of her knows how pointless it all would be. They’re at these two boats, Ellie has a flash of memory, and by threatening Lev she forces Abby to fight her.

    And she wins.

    But she doesn’t kill Abby, and people were furious.

    Empathy on Hardmode

    This game did not make it easy for itself. So many critics of the game think it would be better for the experience if you know who Abby is and why she wants to kill Joel before she does. But this team knew what they were doing. They put it out in front: this is Abby. For whatever reason, she wants to kill your favorite character, and she does. Also, we’re going to make you play as her.

    They bury this lead to set the player so firmly against Abby, to help the player feel as Ellie feels for the adventure, then drop you into her shoes halfway through the game. They show you who Abby is: compassionate, caring, tough as all hell, and willing to lose everything she has to rescue one kid.

    The Last of Us challenges its player to forgive Abby after you watch her do the worst thing she’s ever done. By the end of the game, the literal last thing I wanted to see was for Ellie to kill Abby. I don’t imagine it’s an uncommon experience for people to stop interacting with the button prompt in that last fight and die at least once, just to be certain that the game won’t let you stop and choose. They set everything against themselves, and still they pulled it off. At least, they did for me.

    The Purpose of the Rattlers

    Another specific criticism I wanted to pick at here – the Rattlers and Santa Barbara. There’s been some people that say the last level of the game feels “tacked on.” It’s in a different state with so many people we’ve never seen or cared about before, just to show the lengths that Ellie’s gone to pursuing Abby? No, that’s too dismissive, I think. This team does everything they do with deliberation.

    So, the Rattlers. Slavers that have infected tied up, allowing their prisoners to be bitten and turned for their amusement. The worst of the worst that humanity has to offer in this world. These people are so disconnected from their humanity, that it’s maybe the first-and-only time in the game that you can engage in the gunplay without any remorse. That’s got value for sure, this game’s run-and-gun hide-and-seek is a blast, but even that’s not quite there.

    I think the Rattlers are here as a warning. They weaponize the infected, like Ellie does throughout the game. If Ellie killed Abby, it wouldn’t have brought her peace. She might’ve lost her ability for empathy living with that pain. I don’t think she’d ever have been as bad as they were, but I don’t think she would have recovered, not into the girl we knew.

    Where Things Are Now

    I spent time scrolling through threads on the Last of Us subreddit. There’s posts of people who’ve come to the game recently and were blown away by it, comments from people saying the game’s finally getting the recognition it deserves, counter-criticism to some of the most popular “proposed changes” essays.

    Reception has changed, because this game is truly incredible. It’s so affecting and challenging, so moving. A common sentiment I’ve seen reads, “It’s the best game I’ve played that I can never play again.” And, I guess if you value replayability in games, that’s sad to hear. But the journey experienced even once was worthwhile and one of the best games I’ve ever played.

    The reception of the game at launch was unforgiving. People wanted to hate this game because it wasn’t giving them what they thought they wanted. Years on, however, people see the value in the game as it is. People nowadays are willing to meet the game where it’s asking to be met, and that’s all you really need to do.

    As always, thank you for reading. See you again soon.

  • The Last of Us: An Incredible Adaptation

    The Last of Us: An Incredible Adaptation

    There are few games whose stories were as moving and affecting as the Last of Us, and it’s no surprise to its many fans how well this adaptation landed. The gameplay is good, but the meat and potatoes of this game was always its narrative. So, despite the storied history of failed video game adaptations, I and many others were excited for this show for a long time.

    I can certainly say I wasn’t disappointed.

    Changes Made for the Better

    I’ve talked before in this blog about how adaptation often necessitates change – going from one medium to another requires work. Things that are fun to play through might get stale to watch. Something that reads well might be hard to present in a way that captures the attention of the audience. Here, the creative team deviated from the game in several places (and held fast to the game in others), but never did I feel like what they were doing wasn’t the right move for the show.

    Bill and Frank receiving practically their own episode devoted to their lives together made perfect sense for the show over the gameplay sections involving their story. Exploring a booby-trapped town and battling infected was fun to play through, but I don’t think it would’ve worked as well as a viewing experience – certainly not as well as what we did get. Sam being deaf and needing Henry’s protection even more was inspired; Druckmann himself was frustrated he hadn’t thought of it.

    Every moment of this show oozed with the respect and love the original story deserved from the team behind it. Craig Mazin in the “Behind the Episode” segments spoke unabashedly about his love for the game. More than anything else, I think that care and devotion to the original really brought the best things forward while providing them the room to make changes and come out the better for it. As a result, we have two incredible stories that exist in a shared space, but their differences remain and give them each a different flavor. If you prefer a show, the series is excellent; if you love an interactive experience, the game is there for you.

    All Killer, No Filler

    There’s been a few criticisms online about the third and seventh episodes in the series. Some derided them as filler: pointless excursions that did nothing to further the story present. I read comments from users on Reddit that posited that all flashbacks are bad for media, in any story – that stories told nonlinearly are just inherently poorly written (which, ridiculous).

    Never mind that this whole thing is just outright about the characters within it. The journey across the country is just the backdrop for Ellie and Joel to come to find family in one another. Each obstacle they encounter and overcome isn’t them battling against FEDRA or learning more about the fireflies – it’s just an exploration of the world, how these characters behave within it, and, most importantly, how that changes while they’re orbiting around each other.

    An interesting facet of this criticism is that both of these episodes featured homosexual romance, and they received the harshest response. But, that doesn’t have anything to do with it, right?

    History Repeating

    For years after people reached the credits on the Last of Us, there were debates about the ending. This story is challenging. It is upfront and honest about these characters, about how human they are. Everyone knows that a parent will do anything to protect their child, and this story doesn’t shy away from it. It doesn’t give us an out.

    Joel commits an atrocity for Ellie. He refuses to let her die, to lose her, even though it will allow humanity to overcome cordyceps. And, playing the game, I was with him. I wasn’t going to let them kill Ellie. In the game, it’s a final shootout and run-and-gun, a finale and set piece. In the show, it is the most violence we get on screen between humans.

    To me, the show is even less ambiguous about whether the cure will work than the game. It is presented as a certainty. Yet, just as with the game a decade ago, people cast doubts about its effectiveness so that Joel’s actions can be justifiable. And, the fact of the matter is, that what Joel does is horrific, but many people would do the same.

    This story challenges us to recognize that. To accept that piece of human nature, what love can drive us to do. To behave like the cure is uncertain is to attempt to disengage with the question, to create a moral justification for the mundane horror humankind is capable of. And it’s interesting to see that happening again in the wake of the finale.

    Suffice it to say that I loved the show and I’m looking forward for more. A few weeks ago, the series inspired me to revisit the game’s sequel, and my next post will be about that experience. As always, thank you for reading. When you’re lost in the darkness, look for the light.

  • RPGs: Dungeon Traps as Encounters

    RPGs: Dungeon Traps as Encounters

    During my table’s test run of Pathfinder, I came across a new way of thinking of traps in RPGs that I feel like a fool for not having considered sooner. In Pathfinder, traps have legitimate statblocks, like a goblin or bear or other monster your party would encounter in battle. A “complex hazard” will usually have a reaction to some way the players can interact with the environment nearby, and then they will roll initiative. The players can then attempt to hack away at the mechanism until it breaks, or find the device and disable it before it continues to affect them. A series of traps can become a full blown encounter this way, and I’d never thought to use them as such!

    So, while we’re still playing D&D to finish out my current campaign, I decided to give this idea a go. My party is currently exploring an ancient wizard’s laboratory, and the first room of this delve I devoted entirely to a “trap encounter.” I found this map, the Mad Lich’s Crypt, on talestavern and stocked it for my purposes, so thank you to user JustcallmeWendy!

    Now, onto the encounter.

    The Room

    So, the party began their exploration into this ancient and buried laboratory. A warning in an ancient dialect on the statues near the door gave them little pause, and the entered the first room. There, our fighter noticed a little barred grate near the floor that allowed them to see the blue brazier beyond. Just as he mentioned it, however, the party moved into the room itself, a hidden gate slammed down between them and the entrance, and I asked them to roll initiative.

    These red, glowering grates in the floor I made the origin for a 3rd-level Fireball. A rune would explode twice a round, once at its initiative rolled, then again ten steps down in the order, always exploding where it would hit the most people. This encounter also involved a bit of a puzzle, with these levers needing to be thrown within the same round to lift a wall to allow them to even get near the blue brazier that kept the traps active. Because of the order of events, our cleric player cast a True Seeing spell before the first fireball exploded (worried an invisible enemy may be in the room), and noticed that the floor before the lever closest to them was merely an illusion, just in time to warn the fighter not to cross it!

    Once a lever was flipped, it lit a torch beside the wall that would rise. However, after 1 round, the lever would reset unless held down by someone. Holding a lever down also caused a burst of cold damage (4d8) to whoever decided to do so, and thus the party was split, three members in the tunnel, and two left by the levers.

    Also, while the wall was raised, a lightning ballista became active, firing a 10-foot-wide 3rd-level Lightning Bolt down this corridor. But, the party managed to access the blue brazier and extinguish its flame, turning all the traps off before anyone get too damaged (they are 19th level, after all). With the fire extinguished, they found the gate to the entryway reset, the wall raised, and the gate blocking their path forward opened.

    I enjoyed this style of dungeon trap immensely more than the basic binary “I check for traps” rolls would usually fall into. I don’t enjoy overly punitive design, and hitting my players with a load of damage for failing to essentially bookkeep their progress through a dungeon never sat right with me. I still have a few things I want to improve on for this style of trap encounter more – a handful of which are explicitly in Pathfinder’s rules. I have further instances of traps being involved with and being full encounters in this dungeon, so I’m excited to keep honing the system further.

    That’s it for this post. Thanks for reading! Good luck out there, heroes.

  • Harry Potter and the Author Who Damaged Its Legacy

    Harry Potter and the Author Who Damaged Its Legacy

    I have this vivid memory from when I was a child. I don’t remember where we were or why we were there, but my brother and I were in a hotel room with my mom and an ad for Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone came on the TV. My brother and I were enraptured, and for weeks we quoted the “… or worse, expelled.” exchange. It’s the first time I remember hearing about the franchise.

    I couldn’t tell you how many days or weeks there were between then and when my mom took us to see the movie, but we loved it. And I was just a kid, not keeping up with movie releases or anything at the time, so when we went next year to see a sequel I was blown away even further.

    I went with my mom to nearly every Harry Potter release in theaters. I got the books as they were released (though I only ended up reading Order of the Phoenix, Half-Blood Prince and Deathly Hallows before seeing their movies). I think the ending of Goblet of Fire just made me need to know what was going to happen next – more than the earlier movies had, anyway.

    Between the Wizarding World and Lord of the Rings, I was certainly not starved for fantasy stories growing up. Then, we got an Xbox 360 in 2006 with The Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion, eventually got Dragon Age: Origins, and I’d begun playing Runescape and World of Warcraft and my fate was sealed. This was my bag, sword fights and wizards and dragons: that shit was my jam.

    Harry Potter was incredibly important to me growing up. I’d watch and rewatch these movies with my mom or on my own. So much so, that when Rowling first starting getting a bit of pushback for “adding context” to her books via twitter, I didn’t see what the fuss was. I mean, it was stupid to insist that the wizards were just shitting themselves, but I guess I didn’t really consider it true, you know? I supposed I’d already gotten into the “Death of the Author” camp, and didn’t care for her “intent” beyond the written words.

    The problem, then, is that weird tweets isn’t at all where it stopped.

    J.K. Rowling isn’t just desperately grasping onto her work as a means to remain relevant long after its release, she’s using the platform her success catapulted her into to advocate against human rights. Rowling is a card-carrying Trans-Exclusionary Radical Feminist, using all the money and fame she’s accumulated to make life harder for an incredibly small and marginalized population of people just trying to live their lives. People that might’ve found solace in her work in their youth.

    And, for me, that was enough for me to decide that insofar as my money goes, it wouldn’t be going toward Rowling. I disengaged with her other work and the fandom. And I was able to set it down. I can accept that these books were influential and formative for my youth, but I also choose to leave them there.

    I also recognize that others don’t have any imperative to do the same. I don’t presume that the standards I hold myself to should apply to everyone else. I would, perhaps, merely advocate for others to endeavor to be aware of where their money is going and consider that when making nonessential purchases, but I know, for the most part, people who bought this game or still enjoy these movies are just trying to relax after working to live their own lives. And for that, I wouldn’t condemn them. The energy and time expended by many on attacking others for not joining them in their boycott could be better used elsewhere.

    There’s been a lot of instances lately, it seems, where people use social media to attack their allies for failing to be perfect allies. That left-wing spaces have a tendency to eat their own, and the fact of the matter is that they kind of do. Because our true opponents do not care about our disappointment in them, many of them revel in it. There are people who respond to learning about Hogwarts: Legacy’s transphobic originator and antisemitic narrative and choose to reply “Well now I am buying two copies.” We are unable to shame these people into reasonable action, so we instead attack those who do worry that they may do harm with their actions. And that is not activism – more often than not, it is little more than cruelty. Do good in your communities, help real people, donate, discuss these issues and educate those we can – whatever you can manage.

    But I’m also a cis white man, so what the hell does my opinion count for anyway?

    As always, thank you for reading. Good luck out there, everyone. Remember that you are loved.

  • The Open Gaming License

    The Open Gaming License

    I’d been planning on letting D&D as a topic cool off for the month of January after my “D&D December,” but some things shouldn’t go unaddressed. Originally published during the game’s 3rd edition in 2000, the Open Game License (OGL) allowed third-party publishers to create compatible game material for Dungeons and Dragons. This was an out-and-out win for both the community and Wizards of the Coast. Player-facing books will always be the better selling product, but if there is no support for the game master, games will be harder to run, harder to find. While that investment-to-profit ratio on GM-facing products might be unappealing to a large corporation, a smaller creator might squeeze into that slim margin for a passion project and come out ahead.

    The document, by its own language, is “irrevocable.” From Wizards in 2004, “… if Wizards made a change you disagreed with, you could continue to use an earlier, acceptable version at your option. In other words, there’s no reason for Wizards to ever make a change that the community of people using the Open Gaming License would object to, because the community would just ignore the change anyway.”

    Late last year, rumors began circling about Wizards / Hasbro wanting to make changes to the OGL. On January 5th, Linda Codega received a draft of the new document and reported on the changes therein. The OGL 1.1 wanted to deauthorize the original version, included new clauses about ownership and royalty fees to be paid to WOTC, and a requirement for all would-be creators to register with WOTC. This was saddled with an effective date of January 13th, giving creators a mere handful of days to comply.

    And the community was set ablaze.

    Aftermath

    In the wake of all this news, the tabletop community acted fast. Videos from CritCrab, DnD Shorts, LegalEagle and even larger creators were being dropped on the daily. DnD Shorts was sent an email from an employee within WOTC revealing that the executive sentiment saw the players of D&D as “an obstacle to their money.” Subscriptions on dndbeyond were the metric they were observing to see the financial impact of the news. Hundreds, thousands, perhaps tens of thousands of subscriptions were cancelled (mine included). And, finally, WOTC made a response.

    The OGL 1.1 was going to be “delayed.” WOTC assured us that they’d always intended to gather feedback from the community before going forward with any changes. They wanted us to know that the community won – but so did WOTC. And in internal dialogue, WOTC’s management believes that the fans are “overreacting” to the leaked draft, and that in a few months, nobody will remember the uproar.

    Here’s a few things: if WOTC always intended to gather community feedback, why did the draft have an effective date within a few days of it being sent out? Why did WOTC contact Kickstarter regarding crowdfunded projects?

    Before Wizards made their response, the third-party publishers were first to speak. Kobold Press announced project Black Flag to release a new, subscription free ruleset – a new splinter like Paizo before them. And Paizo announced their plans to have a system neutral Open RPG Creative License (ORC) drafted and handled by Azora Law to provide safe harbor against any company involved being bought, sold, or changing management.

    It’s really hard to see exactly why Wizards thinks they won anything here.

    What It Means for Me

    There’s a lot spinning out of this for me. Foremost, I’m planning on switching to a new system for my next campaign. Realistically, I could continue playing 5th edition for the rest of my life without giving WOTC another cent, but I’d rather continue to contribute to the hobby’s growth by learning other systems. I’ve had the urge on-and-off to write a module of the campaign opening I used for my last two games, and ultimately it doesn’t look like that would be something I want to do with D&D’s system anymore. This week, my players and I are taking out first stab at Pathfinder’s 2nd edition during a break in our normal campaign.

    Additionally, my blog category is now going to be generalized to “TTRPGs.” Some old posts have had their titles adjusted – ones where I believe the topic is applicable to TTRPGs as a whole and not just D&D. Many of those posts were about system specifics or fandom divides, however, and those will retain their titles.

    Lastly, it’s likely I will stop covering the changes for OneD&D on my blog. Unless WOTC completely reneges on their attempts to change the OGL and signs on to Paizo’s ORC, I see little reason to contine to do so. TTRPGs are bigger than D&D, and even D&D is bigger than WOTC and Hasbro. To this day, people still play older, unsupported editions of the game with no need to advance to the newest thing.

    When you remember that, it’s laughable that Wizards ever thought that these changes would slide.

    As always, thank you for reading. Good luck out there, heroes.

  • Returning to Warcraft

    Returning to Warcraft

    In July of 2021, news broke about a lawsuit against Blizzard Entertainment. The suit alleged that, as a company, Blizzard had systemically mistreated their female employees. There was a “frat boy culture” complete with “cube crawls” in which workers would drink at one another’s cubicles during the workday and grope their female coworkers. Employees who reported these behaviors faced retaliation. A female employee committed suicide during a business trip with a male supervisor who had brought sex toys with him on the trip. Their courtesy rooms for recently pregnant employees who needed to pump were poorly furnished and lacked security with someone reporting their breast milk stolen from the fridge. In the midst of all this news, two people were promoted to fill J. Allen Brack’s position once he left the company, Mike Ybarra and Jen O’neal, and they did not pay Jen as much as they paid Ybarra despite both of them advocating for it.

    I ended an eleven-year concurrent subscription to World of Warcraft the same day that this news broke. I was horrified and disgusted that this company that had been a part of my life for so long was like this. Unfortunately, it was more akin to the last straw than a strictly moral stance. Shadowlands was the least fun I’d ever had playing Warcraft, but I was more-or-less in charge of the guild I’d been playing with for over a decade, so I felt some sort of duty to stick around.

    When this news broke, I told the guild that when my time expired, I was done. I didn’t think I’d ever be coming back. My game time lasted until November, and on the last possible night we managed to finish the raid on heroic after several weeks of attempts on the final boss. I did not open Battle.net for an entire year after that moment.

    I kept up with some news. I watched the Dragonflight announcement and felt underwhelmed. I didn’t really think Blizzard would change – not in philosophy, and not in culture.

    But, maybe they did.

    New Direction

    I’ve been a fan of Preach Gaming for a long time. I think I first found his channel in 2012 during Mists of Pandaria, but I probably became a subscriber and fan in the time of Legion (2016). Like much of the player base, Preach had been heartbroken with the news and resolved to risk his entire livelihood and stop his daily coverage of Warcraft as his primary work for his videos. Like many of us, he had been passionate about this game for a long time despite it feeling worse and worse over time.

    Late last year, Preach spent his own money to take a trip to California and visit the Blizzard campus, interviewing the developers to talk about the new direction of the game and the fallout of the lawsuit. And, honestly, it began to look like the lawsuit had helped remove the problematic people who had been with Blizzard all those years. Things looked like they’d gotten better.

    The game was headed to a healthier place: one designed for the player’s enjoyment and not just their retention. Gone were the nonoptional activities that advanced your character’s power outside of the endgame pillars. Gone were the restrictive systems and grinds that made players feel the need to engage with content they’d long since grown tired of to continue gaining artifact and anima power. Playing multiple characters became something encouraged by the game, instead of a burden as players saw a laundry list of dozens of things they’d need to complete again to get their characters ready for the fun stuff they wanted to do.

    Even hearing this from friends, I was skeptical. Many of them hadn’t quit in Shadowlands, maybe it was just survivorship bias. Ultimately, I knew I couldn’t take anyone’s word but my own, so I decided to drop some of the gold I’d had in game for a token and give it a shot.

    It’s been about a month since then. I’ve leveled four of my characters to 70, when I only ever got one to 60 in Shadowlands. I’ve just achieved Keystone Master with my friends, despite us now needing to find people to fill our groups instead of having an active guild to run with. I’ve been making gold with my professions, in the hopes of continuing to pay for the game with that virtual currency. I haven’t been into the raid yet, but I’ve been completely satisfied with the dungeon endgame.

    That game is just fun again.

    But I’m not ready to give Blizzard a full pass.

    There’s Still Room to Improve

    Ultimately, the monetization of Blizzard’s games is still disgusting. Diablo: Immortal is not even a year old. Diablo 4 is set to release this year with a battle pass system for cosmetics and so far, they’ve been quiet on what, if anything, they’re doing with this system to address FOMO. And, at any point, they could fall into their old ways and start designing poor systems that restrict the players again.

    But, unlike before, I’m not going to stick around if the game stops being fun. There’s really not much else to it.

    As always, thank you for reading. Now let’s drop that ready check and get this run going.

  • 2022: Year in Review

    2022: Year in Review

    As we come upon the end of 2022, I wanted to take a moment to look back at all of the media I’ve enjoyed this year and talk about what I loved. Consider this a graduation of a “Ben Recommends” post, one plus-sized entry to talk about several games, books, movies, and TV shows that I didn’t devote an entire post to earlier in the year. Not all of these projects were released this year, but they were things I experienced for the first time in 2022. As always, we’ll avoid spoilers as much as we can, so without further delay, let’s dive in.

    Books

    I didn’t read as much as I’d planned to this year, but there was certainly no shortage of quality books that completely ensnared me. The craft on display inspired me to keep honing my own writing, to pursue the best I can manage and always improve.

    A Memory Called Empire & A Desolation Called Peace

    Arkady Martine’s Hugo winning duology was instantly one of the best books I’d ever read. I remember a moment – the first “on-screen” interaction between Ambassador Mahit and her predecessor Yskandr – that I just felt floored. Every time I pick up a Hugo winner, I find something, an idea or an impeccable presentation, some way to present a thought in a way that I hadn’t been able to consider or articulate myself, that just reminds me why I was so drawn to writing in the first place. I read Desolation before 2022’s Hugos were awarded, but I had no doubt it my mind it would snag the win.

    The Rage of Dragons

    I first picked up Evan Winter’s novel to read while I was unable to engage in my more persistent distractions, but I found it so gripping that even when I’d finally returned home, it was still consuming my time. Reading it reminded me of the way Game of Thrones made me feel when the show had been at its best, even despite how different the two tales are. The book is so deliberate, so consistent, that even moments that might drag in a lesser novel remained just as enthralling here. I can’t wait to catch up with the Fires of Vengeance and join everyone else in waiting for the next novel.

    Elder Race

    Adrian Tchaikovsky is an author whose name I’d see pop up on the fantasy subreddit time and again, so I decided to give Elder Race a try to dip my toes into his work. I finished the entire novella in a day, moving only when my spot on the couch started to become uncomfortable. Only once I’d finished did I set the book down, adding more of his work to my wish list for the holidays.

    Movies

    I only found my way into a theater a handful of times this year, catching The Batman and the new Marvel movies, and when I did sit down with a movie at home it was often one I’d already seen. Still, there was a notable exception that deserves a spot of recognition here.

    Knives Out & Glass Onion

    Say what you will for Rian Johnson’s entry into Star Wars, but the man knows how to craft an exciting mystery. I finally got around to seeing Knives Out this year, and I immediately knew I had to share the movie with my mother. It’s a wonderful film with surprising twists and turns all throughout, and Glass Onion certainly serves as a great sequel to expand the canon on Benoit Blanc.

    TV Shows

    There were a lot of new shows this year that I didn’t ever get around to watching. I’ve heard great things about dozens of shows, but never had the opportunity to check most of them out. Of what I did see, the two below really stick out as the best of the best.

    Better Call Saul

    I was a huge fan of Better Call Saul since the first season. Each time they finally got added to Netflix, I slammed through each episode, hungry for more. Peter Gould and Vince Gilligan worked a miracle, following up one of the best television dramas ever with a spinoff sequel, that, for me, surpassed the original. It’s a master class in pacing, in setup and payoff, in following through, even if it might become predictable. The final season stuck the landing, and I can’t wait to see what these guys do next.

    Andor

    If it hadn’t finished so close to the year, I think Andor would’ve had its own entire post. This show was something I’d always wanted from Star Wars: a gritty, grounded story about people rising against the tyranny of the empire. It isn’t afraid to take its time, to build clear stakes and show us who these characters are. Despite the darkness it is hopeful – things are bad, but there are those who are willing to fight, to build a tomorrow they will never see, so that things will be better one day.

    Video Games

    The video game industry continues to swing wildly between the best and the worst it can be. In the same year that we get Elden Ring and God of War: Ragnarok as examples of the pinnacle of what games can be, we get Diablo: Immortal, a blatant pay-to-win cash grab, and Pokémon Scarlet and Violet releases as a buggy mess with very little in the way of innovation despite being one of the highest grossing media franchises in the world. I’ve always been a bit of a patient gamer, only buying games on day one when they’re a highly anticipated release, but I still got around to a lot of games that were new this year.

    Vampire Survivors

    I was an early adopter of this tiny little game, picking it up at the start of February in early access. Very, very few games are as much of a value trade as this ended up being. For that $3 price point I got 54 hours of excellent gameplay, and they just released a $2 DLC that I’m excited to get around to diving into soon. For a while, I was keeping up with each patch and collecting the achievements as they came, but I hadn’t played since April until a couple weeks ago and I had a lot of new things to check out when I got back into it.

    Potionomics

    I was never someone who was interested in dating simulator games. I’d confidently skipped over them all, certain I wasn’t missing anything. Then, I saw someone playing Potionomics on a stream and decided to give it a shot. It had just enough of a game laid overtop that I bought in, and I enjoyed the game immensely. I stuck around for two full playthroughs to get all of the achievements on Steam and I have no regrets. I don’t think it’s completely changed my opinion on dating simulators, but if this team releases another one with another decent game on top, they’ve at a minimum earned my interest.

    Dicey Dungeons

    A friend of mine played this game on Game Pass and immediately knew I’d love it. That same day he sent me a gifted copy, and he was completely correct. This little roguelike battle game has been an absolute blast to play. The game gives you items to equip on each run that you use rolled six-sided dice to dismantle your foes with. There’s appropriately six characters to play as, each with their own unique dice interactions and mechanics: the warrior can reroll dice to get better results, the rogue wants lower dice values to unleash a flurry of attacks, the robot rolls each dice one-at-a-time with a hard cap on how much their CPU can handle each turn. With lots of comedy buried in the enemy profiles you unlock with each achievement, this game is overflowing with charm.

    My Game of the Year: God of War Ragnarok

    Ragnarok is a sequel in the most honest sense of the word. Everything about God of War (2018) is improved upon here: the gameplay is smoother, the systems are more developed with more options, things are expanded naturally, and the story and performances are top-notch. Elden Ring is absolutely one of the best games I’ve ever played, but Ragnarok appeals more to me as a person. It would be a lie to say Elden Ring lacks a narrative, but presentation between these two games couldn’t be more different, and I’m a sucker for a great story.

    There’s also something to be said for the difference in boss design in these two games. While you have so much more freedom in how you build your character in Elden Ring, there’s certainly a value in the way a God of War boss can have mechanics that require a specific answer to be dealt with. In Elden Ring and the Dark Souls games, what you’re capable of as a character can be so varied that I don’t believe there’s any mechanics in the game that the dodge roll can’t avoid. In Ragnarok, there was a boss that I needed to interrupt with a weapon throw, or a couple mechanics that I could use a specific arrow from my ally to interrupt, and it felt fantastic to go step-for-step in these dance-like encounters. Neither of these design philosophies is better than the other: what you gain in player choice and freedom in Elden Ring is incredibly valuable, while the limited choices you make in God of War can still adjust your playstyle, just not nearly as much as the decisions in Elden Ring.

    2022 delivered some truly incredible stories, and I couldn’t be more thankful to have the opportunity to experience them. I’m excited to see what new stories we can share with one another in 2023. As always, thank you for reading. I hope you have a happy New Year, and I’ll see you again soon.

  • D&D: The Imbalance of Hard CC

    D&D: The Imbalance of Hard CC

    Some of the most potent spells and features in D&D are focused around locking down enemies and limiting what they’re able to do. These crowd control (CC) abilities are incredibly impactful – when they work, they can completely change the dynamics of a battle. A dragon might be torn out of the sky and forced to battle on the ground by Earthbind, an enemy berserker might become paralyzed by Hold Person, an enemy spell caster might be Counterspelled or Silenced to neuter their ability to battle the party. A Polymorph might entirely end an encounter before it even has the chance to begin.

    However, they can be a bit of a gamble. When a player spends their action on many of these abilities, their foes have the chance to resist them with a saving throw and be utterly unaffected, or have some other roll of the dice impact their effectiveness. Between the chance to fail, concentration requirements, and resource cost, these abilities are overall pretty balanced in battle.

    But … there’s another facet of this piece of design that isn’t clear from the source books alone. When it comes to the use of these abilities, they affect a player in combat in a much heavier way than the DM’s monsters. And, while there are tools the party can use to address these abilities (attacking a concentrating spell caster, using Dispel Magic or a Restoration spell), it isn’t always something that feels like it’s a good use of their own turn. They might be too far from their allies or their enemies to affect the spell’s duration or otherwise unable to do something about the spell. In the upper levels of D&D, a character might have one of their weaker saving throws targeted and be unable to resist the effect, and in a difficult battle, it might be several turns before anyone in the party can find a moment that they aren’t also dangerously threatened to do something about their ally’s situation.

    In effect, a player might be effectively removed from the battle by one of these abilities, leaving them to sit and simply watch the game continue without their input, only making a roll every so often to attempt to resist the effect. Is it good encounter design to disable your players with these spells? These people have all taken time out of their busy lives, maybe they’re even paying for a babysitter – is it fair to them for this to happen? Is it fun?

    My players and I have discussed these abilities at length between sessions regularly since my campaign began two years ago. Lately, I’ve been using them a lot less than I ever had before in any 5th edition game I’ve run. We’ve talked about the degrees of effect they use in Pathfinder’s second edition, adjusting spells to function just for one round but to work outright, a stacking bonus or other cumulative effect to increase the likelihood for an affected creature to succeed over time – we still haven’t nailed any specific changes down for our next game, but it continues to be a regular topic.

    And this isn’t intended to say that you should avoid using control effects against your players. I only think it’s important to be aware of how these effects sit on the scales on either side of the DM screen. So, today, we’re going to talk about some of the small adjustments we have made, and some of the design built into D&D intended to address CC (and how it still falls a bit short).

    Giving the Players an Answer

    One way we decided to address these abilities was to put more tools into the hands of the martial characters to use in response to control effects. A Dispel Magic or Restoration spell can end CC from the hands of spell casters, but giving the martial characters some limited use effects to overcome CC themselves had a dual purpose in helping bring them upward in effectiveness to close that existent gap between them and the spell casters.

    So, we modified the Fighter’s Indomitable feature, allowing them to substitute whatever type of save they were asked to make with a Constitution saving throw instead when they used the feature. After the change, the fighter almost always succeeded against these effects with his proficient saving throw, but only so long as he had uses of Indomitable. It felt like a measured adjustment – repeated application of lockdown effects would overcome his ability to resist them and require another answer, but a single spell couldn’t neuter the fighter outright.

    We also built a new feature for the barbarian I called Rage Against Restraint. When the barbarian was affected by a CC effect, I allowed him to burn a use of his rage to end the effect at the end of his turn. I ended up deciding this was too conservative in its implementation, and I’ve since adjusted it to allow the barbarian to end the effect at the start of his turn for the same cost. It’s also limited further by only having a single use, but I think it wouldn’t be game breaking if it were usable more often, perhaps just costing a use of their rage. This would only become infinite CC breaking at 20th level, and it still has them under the effects until their turn begins, which might allow enemies to capitalize on the effect anyway. Our change to Indomitable allows a fighter a second attempt at the save, potentially avoiding the effect, so when compared, I think Rage Against Restraint is weaker than the change to Indomitable, so it doesn’t need to be so harshly limited.

    Both of these features came online for the party around the same time, Rage Against Restraint sort of introduced as a bit of a band-aid fix as we adjusted Indomitable, but I think they’ve both worked out well. I might even in the future include Rage Against Restraint as a feature at 7th or 9th level just as a carte blanche for barbarians at my table.

    Experienced players are probably realizing this is a bit familiar to Wizards’ own mechanic designed to aid their bosses against these effects, legendary resistance.

    Legendary Resistance: a Poor Compromise (for Monsters)

    To ensure a boss isn’t utterly neutered by CC effects, paralyzing them and allowing the party to burst their entire pool of hit points before they can take a swipe of their own, Wizards of the Coast included “Legendary Resistance.” Significant monsters such as dragons and liches and other bosses created for each module published have the ability to force-succeed on a limited number of saving throws (usually three). Each homebrew boss I’ve built has had a number of these to stand their own if the party decided to focus them down outright.

    In effect, they’re a tax the party has to pay to succeed in using any lockdown effects against a powerful boss. However, without them, an insistent monk might simply stun-lock a boss and never allow it a turn, neutering the keystone encounter everyone’s been waiting for. These monsters need an answer for these effects, so they can function as a boss, but the design of the feature falls short.

    It’s the distilled problem of “save-or-suck” spell design. On a binary pass-fail system, significant monsters need a way to ensure they aren’t as ruined by these effects as their minions are. CC effects are so utterly debilitating in D&D, that they need an answer. If the system was built with gradations of success, such as in pathfinder’s second edition, these abilities wouldn’t be useless at the start of a boss fight.

    There’s some quick and easy ways to help make this feel a bit better, with and without adjusting the feature outright. If you don’t want to personally redesign Legendary Resistance, then simply being a bit more descriptive with how a monster overcomes these effects can help. If the dragon is overcoming Hold Monster, describe it angrily snarling through the effect, succumbing until a final burst of rage allows it to escape. If a powerful demon lord is overcoming a Banishment, perhaps he had prepared for the battle with a ward that shatters, consuming the spell, but leaving them more vulnerable against future magics.

    For more active adjustments, you could force your monsters to sacrifice health to shake these effects off, or spend some of its action economy on ending the effect. Perhaps as a legendary action that can’t be used until the end of the next member of the party’s turn. You could build your own degrees of effectiveness – maybe your dragon has its speed reduced, suffers disadvantage on his attack rolls, and allows a single critical hit from a melee attack, but that’s the full extent of a Hold Monster’s effect on him, and only for one round maximum. I’m building an upcoming boss encounter for my campaign to have the “legendary resistance” the boss has function a lot like how I’ve built Rage Against Restraint, the creature only able to end these effects on their own turn.

    Try things out, take some swings, but if it isn’t a big problem for your table, don’t reinvent the wheel. As long as everyone’s having fun, you’re running an excellent game. Overall, I hope Legendary Resistance receives some more attention in the playtest for OneD&D – I’d love to see Wizards try some different approaches to see if they can land on something better before the next edition of the game releases, but we’ll have to wait and see.

    As always, thank you for reading. Good luck out there, heroes.