All about bows (in 2e)

I’ve really had a few things mixed up regarding bows over the years. The intention has always been to adjudicate missile fire “by the book,” so I’ll begin honoring these immediately:

• Only longbows can fire sheaf arrows; short bows are limited to using flight arrows. (Note that this was already previously discussed here.)
  
• Longbows and short bows can be strung for a “heavier pull” to allow characters with high Strength scores to apply their modifiers to attack and damage rolls; these bows don’t cost more than normal bows unless they intend to enable bonuses for exceptional Strength (18/01 and higher).
• Composite bows work the same as regular bows in terms of pull; what’s different is their design, range, and speed factor.
• There’s no penalty to hit when firing into melee; possible recipients (including allies) are prorated with respect to size and the target is determined randomly (the attack roll still needs to be high enough to hit the target’s AC).

For those wanting to read the relevant passages, review the following sections in the 2e PH:

• Bows (Equipment chapter, p. 73)
• Modifiers to the Attack Roll (Combat chapter, p. 90)
• Ability Modifiers in Missile Combat (Combat chapter, p. 99)
• Firing into a Melee (Combat chapter, p. 99)

Rules Index

This post is a collection of various house rules and rulings we’ve employed over the years. The intention is to update with additions/changes whenever needed.

* The posts/rulings below are intended to be a guide for when similar situations/questions arise in our current game. Note that some of these were issued several years ago, for different campaigns (and in some cases, different rule systems). I reserve the right to alter or update them, if warranted.

 

House Rules

• Ability scores
• 4d6-drop-lowest, arrange to taste; up to two times, you may permanently discard these scores to roll a new set
• Hit points
• Max hp are awarded at 1st level
• For all subsequent levels, any 1s on hit point dice may be rerolled
• Proficiencies
• Both weapon and nonweapon proficiencies are in use going forward
• Critical hits
• An attack roll of natural 20 automatically deals max damage
• Training
• To level up, a PC must train for a number of days equal to the new level
• No monetary cost or mentor requirement is currently enforced

Class Abilities

• Favored enemy (ranger)
• Backstab (thief)
• Turn undead (cleric)
• Crusader (custom character class)

Combat

• AD&D 2e combat basics
• Missile fire
• Sheaf arrows
• Mounted combat
• Rulings on coup de gras permissibility based on various spells

Magic/Spells

• Starting spells for bards
• Learning new spells from captured spellbooks
• Scrolls
• Specific spell rulings
• Detect evil
• Find familiar
• Summon swarm

Miscellaneous

• Staying awake under duress
• Death’s door for NPCs and monsters

AD&D 2e Dungeon Musings YouTube Video

I shared this to our campaign Discord, but wanted to post here as well. This video, while lengthy, is an excellent overview of AD&D 2e in terms of the type of game it facilitates and reasons for potentially running it over newer/modern systems, while still remaining reasonably objective. Highly recommended for those returning to 2e after some time off:

 

Short bows and arrow types

Henceforth, I’ll be correcting a rules error that we’ve been making for several years in allowing “sheaf arrows” to be fired from short bows. Despite the 2e PH not explicitly stating (to my knowledge) that short bows are limited to using “flight arrows” only, I think we have enough suggestive data points to know that it’s not intended for short bows to deal 1d8 damage:

• The “Missile Weapon Ranges” table on p. 69 lists both arrow types under “Longbow,” but no specific type under “Short bow,” implying that either the arrow ranges for short bows are indistinguishable or that only one type of arrow can be used.
• The “Bows” section on p. 73 states that “Arrows for long bows of all types are divided between light-weight flight arrows and heavier sheaf arrows. Flight arrows have longer ranges and are normally used in hunting. Sheaf arrows have a stronger metal head but a reduced range. They are often used in times of war.” It makes no distinction with regards to usable arrow types for short bows.
• It simply doesn’t make mechanical sense for short bows to be able to deal 1d8 damage in the context of the available weapons in the PH.

From this point forward, characters and NPCs using short bows will deal only 1d6 damage per hit. Any preexisting inventory of sheaf arrows on record sheets may be freely converted to flight arrows. Short bows can be “traded in” for longbows in Mirabar or Dagger’s Deep for an “upgrade cost” of 45 gp (the cost difference between the weapons in the PH). Note that certain classes are permitted to use short bows only (the Thief class, in particular), but I don’t believe that any current PCs are subject to this restriction.

AD&D 2e combat

It feels high time to get a revision of this post up to overview how combat works in our AD&D 2e campaign. Here are the key points/rules I want to highlight:

• Surprise. Determined by rolling 1d10 for each side (as deemed necessary by the DM) at the start of an encounter; a result of 1-3 means that each opponent gets to make a free round of attacks (using melee weapons, missile weapons, or magic items, but not spells) against the surprised party. Various modifiers can be applied, for example a +2 bonus to account for a cat familiar’s keen senses around a camp at night.
• Initiative. Determined by rolling 1d10 for each side at the start of each combat round. Lower roll wins, with the results indicating the count on which each side will begin its actions during the round.
• Melee and missile attacks occur on the initiative count. Combatants with multiple weapon attacks (e.g., missile weapons with a high ROF and Fighters with weapon specialization) take any subsequent attacks at the end of the round; monsters with multiple natural attacks (such as claw/claw/bite) and PCs/NPCs with two-weapon fighting make all of their attacks immediately. (Note that, if we used weapon speed, the speed factor would be added to the initiative count for each combatant.)
• Movement and charge attacks begin on the initiative count and consume a number of “segments” necessary to complete the associated movement.
• Spellcasting begins on the initiative count and completes after a number of segments equal to the spell’s casting time. If the caster is damaged while the spell is in the process of being cast, the caster’s concentration is lost and the spell is thwarted.
• Other single-round combat actions include turning undead, lightning a torch, drinking a potion, binding wounds, etc. (also see the 2e PH, p 93).

Other/special combat actions and modifiers:

• Attacking from higher ground grants a -1 bonus to initiative and a +1 bonus to attack rolls.
• Charging allows an attacker to increase his or her movement by 50% and make a single attack against an opponent at +2 to hit. In return, the defender gains a -2 bonus to initiative and the attacker suffers a -1 penalty to armor class in addition to losing his or her Dexterity bonus to AC for the round.
• A critical hit occurs when a combatant rolls a “natural” 20 on an attack roll. In these cases, maximum damage is awarded without rolling.
• Firing into melee results in a -4 penalty to attack rolls to account for the difficulty of avoiding one’s allies. (Note that this is not, in fact, “by the book” for 2e. Per the PH, p. 99, ranged combatants firing into melee do not take a penalty, however targets are chosen at random and being hit by friendly fire is possible. This rule probably warrants further discussion.) This post provides details on how firing into a melee actually works.
• Melee combatants may select specific targets for their attacks when the ability to distinguish one opponent from all others is practical (this is up to the DM’s discretion). When it’s not, the opponent being attacked is determined at random. 
• Withdrawing allows a combatant to disengage from melee at 1/3 speed. Fleeing allows the combatant to run from melee at full speed but draws a free attack from each engaged opponent. (In either case, the combatant exiting the melee may be pursued, unless each pursuer is explicitly blocked off by an ally.)
• Invisible opponents can be attacked with a -4 penalty to hit, as long as the attacker is aware of the opponent.
• Prone opponents can be attacked with a +4 bonus to hit. Only sleeping, held, or fully immobilized opponents can be slain automatically.
• Cover and concealment make it more difficult to hit an opponent with missile fire. Cover (or “hard cover”) means that an obstacle (like a wall or boulder) is blocking the intended target; concealment (“soft cover”) means that the target is obscured by entities (such as fog or foliage) that hide the intended target. (See the 2e PH, p. 99 for details and modifiers.)
• A called shot may be made against a target in an attempt to achieve a specific result, such as forcing an opponent to drop an item. Called shots are made with a -4 penalty to hit, and a +1 penalty to initiative.

In closing, while the above points cover the majority of combat situations in our games, I highly recommend that each player read the full “Combat” chapter in the 2e PH (pp. 89-106) prior to our next session.

Starting spells for bards

I've made some determinations on Zargon's starting spells. First, a review of the relevant passage from the bard class description (2e PH, p. 42):

Since bards are dabblers rather than full-time wizards, their spells tend to be gained by serendipity and happenstance. In no case can a bard choose to specialize in a school of magic. Beginning bards do not have a selection of spells. A 2nd-level bard begins with one to four spells, chosen either randomly or by the DM. (An Intelligence check must still be made to see if the bard can learn a given spell.) The bard is not guaranteed to know read magic, as this is not needed to read the writings in a spell book. The bard can add new spells to his spell book as he finds them, but he does not automatically gain additional spells as he advances in level. All spells beyond those he starts with must be found during the course of adventuring. The bard's casting level is equal to his current level.

This is fairly clear. I'm going to honor the by-the-book rules, for a few reasons: first, there's no compelling incentive to deviate with a house rule; second, the above limitations reinforce that the bard is merely a “dabbler,” as opposed to a specialist wizard or mage; and third, the party is at a safe point with time on their hands such that new spells can be acquired from other characters.

In the interest of moving things forward, I rolled that the following two spells are in Zargon's starting spellbook:

• Grease
• Mending

Of note, I rolled a 2 on 1d4 for the number of spells. Both “chance to learn spell” rolls succeeded, and the specific spells were rolled randomly from the 1st-level wizard spell list. While it can be argued that a 4th-level bard could or should have additional spells beyond what a 2nd-level bard would know (i.e., acquired through adventuring), we haven't set that precedent with anything else (magic items, gold, etc.) in the campaign, so I'd prefer not to start now. (And again, the party is at a point that Zargon can easily expand his repertoire before his first real adventure.)

Hopefully this seems reasonable enough to everyone?

Staying awake

During the events that went down in the mine, I found myself asking how long a character might remain awake and competent under strenuous activity in the face of exhaustion from lack of sleep? I haven't found any official rules on this yet, though it's possible that something already exists. In lieu of that, I've devised a quick system to employ if the situation ever comes up again. I don't expect this to be at all commonplace, though it seems like when it happens, it's likely very important.

• A character or NPC can stay awake at full capabilities for a number of hours equal to 12 + Con score + 1d6.

• After this point, each of the individual's six ability scores are temporarily halved (rounding down, hit points unaffected) every hour. Whenever any score reaches zero (0), the individual passes out.

• A person passed out from exhaustion cannot be wakened for 1d8+8 hours, at which point they rise with scores restored to their normal values.

This all feels reasonable to me. Adrenaline lets you go as hard as you can for as long as you can, but at some point you hit the wall. When that happens, your ability to function drops off quickly. You can still manage to push for up to a few hours longer, but eventually either your mind or body gives out.

Death's door for NPCs and monsters

I posted a poll here on this topic after we discussed it following the last session, if anyone's interested in reading the responses.

For context, here's the official text of the [optional] 2e rule for “hovering on death's door” (DMG p. 75):

You may find that your campaign has become particularly deadly. Too many player characters are dying. If this happens, you may want to allow characters to survive for short periods of time even after their hit points reach or drop below 0.

When this rule is in use, a character can remain alive until his hit points reach -10. However, as soon as the character reaches 0 hit points, he falls to the ground unconscious.

Thereafter, he automatically loses one hit point each round. His survival from this point on depends on the quick thinking of his companions. If they reach the character before his hit points reach -10 and spend at least one round tending to his wounds (stanching the flow of blood, etc.), the character does not die immediately.

If the only action is to bind his wounds, the injured character no longer loses one hit point each round, but neither does he gain any. He remains unconscious and vulnerable to damage from further attacks.

If a cure spell of some type is cast upon him, the character is immediately restored to 1 hit point--no more. Further cures do the character no good until he has had at least one day of rest. Until such time, he is weak and feeble, unable to fight and barely able to move. He must stop and rest often, can't cast spells (the shock of near death has wiped them from his mind), and is generally confused and feverish. He is able to move and can hold somewhat disjointed conversations, and that's it.

If a heal spell is cast on the character, his hit points are restored as per the spell, and he has full vitality and wits. Any spells he may have known are still wiped from his memory, however. (Even this powerful spell does not negate the shock of the experience.)

Longevity

By all reasonable accounts, Zeb probably should be dead. It wasn't a miracle of the dice that stayed him, but weak judgment on my part. At the last minute (after a failed save had been rolled), I called into question whether a blinded dragon could reliably direct its breath weapon at unseen opponents, even with their last known location unchanged. In the moment, I decided this was too contentious to stake a character's life on, so I allowed Zeb to avoid the cloud, even though the full breath weapon damage would have killed him instantly. Erring on the side of the PCs isn't the worst thing in the world, but I probably leaned too far this time. Zeb can rightly acknowledge this as Malar having spared his meager life.

In light of the above, I've given much thought to the prospect of characters dying and what a tragic event like the loss of Zeb would mean for the campaign. If I felt like allowing a PC to die would spell the end of the game, that would severely burden my judgment when it comes to adjudicating deadly situations.

Fortunately, I think we're all on the same page that the campaign can continue, even under the most dire of circumstances. For the benefit of everyone, here are some points to live by going forward. This is effectively a charter as to my long-term vision for the game.

• If a PC dies based on dice rolls, I'm not going to intervene. It's hard, as DM, not to pull strings at times, but doing so deprives the players of a fairly run game and the experience of overcoming the death of a character.


• I don't expect (nor should anyone else expect) the campaign to end if a character gets killed. Obviously a TPK may result in a break in continuity at the very least, but either way, life in the game world goes on, just like in the real world. I see our campaign as being greater than any individual character; there's no critical plot artery that hinges on the survival of Zeb, Audric, or anyone else. We're full-on Game of Thrones, here.


• A player can either create a new character to replace a perished (or retired) one, or elect to take on a henchman as a full-fledged PC. New characters begin with the same starting XP as the original PCs and are expected to advance in level through play. This may mean that a new PC needs to be shielded from harm at times by the rest of the party in order to stay alive.


• Despite entering the game at a lower XP total, a new PC can normalize in level over time thanks to the AD&D experience tables. For example, a 1st-level, 0 XP Fighter and a 5th-level, 16,000 XP Fighter will both be 6th level, 40,000 XP later. (It's also reasonable to expect that a low-level PC will advance more quickly in a high-level party, since the party's XP awards will naturally be larger.)


• In the meantime, it's possible that other, established PCs will die/retire, or new players/henchmen cycle into the game. The original “new PC” may become a veteran before long.


• Under this system, the total power level of the party is likely to fluctuate over time. Many of us are used to games where the party only ascends in level and ability as the game progresses, up until the point that everyone retires and the campaign ends. In my model, we could look back six months from now and recognize this point in time as the peak power level of the campaign. This allows for organic continuity across years of gaming, with the ability to re-experience the early and mid levels again and again. A high-level character that sustains through it all is truly something to be valued.

I could probably write a book on this stuff, but these feel like the most important points, so I'll leave it here for now. Happy to discuss further in the comments.

Find familiar ruling

The question arose last session of whether Audric could use find familiar without satisfying the [exorbitant] material component requirement (from the 2e PH, p. 134):

When the wizard decides to find a familiar, he must load a brass brazier with charcoal. When this is burning well, he adds 1,000 gp worth of incense and herbs.

I'm going to rule “yes.” Material components in 2e are treated as optional, and thus far I've made little effort to enforce them. In the case of find familiar specifically, there are already lots of strings attached to this spell (only cast once/year, chance of no familiar in area, consequences if the familiar dies), and there seems to be a solid base of 2e-ers who agree that the cost in this edition (as opposed to 100 gp in 1e) is too over-the-top.

Going forward, assume that material components for spells are not being used, though I reserve the right to “opt in” if it seems appropriate enough for a particular spell. I don't plan to make such decisions lightly, though.

Mounted Combat

We hadn't dealt with using weapons and spells from horseback thus far in the campaign, and I was ill-prepared to adjudicate this during the skirmish with the wargs. The 2e DMG discusses mounted combat in detail; below are some of the key points. From p. 76:

Mounts trained for combat (a heavy warhorse, for example) present few problems. These can be used in mounted combat with no penalties. However, steeds not trained for combat are easily frightened by the noise and confusion.

Those fighting from the back of untrained creatures suffer a -2 on their chance to hit, since much of their time is spent simply trying to keep the mount under control.

The horses purchased in Luskan are riding horses only, so going forward this -2 penalty will apply. With regards to melee combat:

In mounted fighting, a character gets a +1 bonus to his chance to hit creatures smaller than his mount. Thus, a man on horseback gains a +1 bonus to his attack rolls against all medium-sized creatures such as other men, but would not gain this bonus against another rider or a giant. Those on foot who fight against a mounted rider, have a -1 penalty; this not applied to attacks against the mount, however.

This would have reduced the first penalty to -1, since the wargs were medium-sized creatures. The wargs wouldn't have incurred a penalty, since they were attacking mounts or dismounted PCs. Missile combat, understandably, is more difficult:

Missile fire from the back of a moving horse is possible only if the rider is proficient in horsemanship. Even then, only short bows, composite short bows, and light crossbows can be fired from horseback by normally proficient characters.

Long bows can be used by those with specialization (if this is used). Heavy crossbows can be fired once, but cannot be reloaded by a mounted man since the bracing and pull is inadequate.

There are details beyond this, including penalties if trying to fire while the mount is moving, but let's leave it here until that situation arises. We don't use proficiencies, but I'll allow short bows and light crossbows to be fired by PCs succeeding a Dexterity check, with failure meaning that the round is lost trying to control the mount (with no ammunition expended). Spellcasting can work similarly. Fair?

I also was too liberal in causing characters to fall from their horses in combat, some of which I corrected during the session. Even Aranos' fall, however, shouldn't have happened, by the book. Here are the relevant excerpts:

Killing the Mount: This is the grim and efficient method. Once the horse (often an easier target) is dead, the rider is certainly dismounted. The steed automatically falls to the ground.

If the rider has the Riding proficiency, he can attempt to land safely on his feet on a successful check. Otherwise, the character also falls to the ground and suffers 1d3 points of damage. The character cannot take any action that round and must spend another entire round gathering himself back up and getting to his feet.

Again in the absence of proficiencies, a Dexterity check should suffice to avoid taking damage from a fall. Aside from killing the steed, an attack roll of 20 will dismount a rider, but a "normal" hit against either party will not:

Weapon Impact: Riders also can be knocked off by solid blows from a variety of weapons. Any time a rider hits another mounted character or creature with a melee weapon 3' or longer and scores a natural 20 on the roll, the other character is knocked from the saddle, suffering 1d3 points of damage (if from the back of a normal horse).

There's a lot here to digest, and more in the actual rulebook. I turned out to be a bit harsh in my rulings, but should be better equipped to deal with this next time.

AD&D initiative technology

Oy - quite a lull between posts, but as mentioned it's a busy year. Sean and I were talking about initiative in D&D this week, and the merits/detriments of different approaches. I don't think any initiative system I've seen is perfect, but I do enjoy the unpredictability of the AD&D systems that require new rolls for every round.

That said, rolling and collecting initiative every round can be burdensome, let alone accounting for combatants individually. In our game, we make a single roll for each side, adjust for casting times, and that's it. The approach works reasonably well, but can lead to polarized situations where one full side acts twice in a row. I told Sean that I'd be willing to try individual initiative per round, IF I could distill it down to a single click.

Achieving that managed to not be too difficult after all; I created a spreadsheet that calculates and sorts the data I need quickly and easily enough that I'd like to give it a go on Saturday and see how the party fares.

Instead of asking anyone to roll initiative, what my spreadsheet allows me to do is:

1. Gather intended actions from each player, as I do today.
2. Determine actions for each DM-controlled participant, as I do today.
3. Type a single keystroke to get full initiative results for the round.

The sheet will include individual modifiers, and durations can be entered to calculate the "end segment" for a particular action (completion of a spell, end of a long movement, etc.). It enables me to use a more robust initiative system while streamlining the initiative process for everyone - hopefully leading to a smoother combat experience overall.

This is what the results look like after issuing a click to make the rolls and accounting for casting times:

Not many drawbacks to at least trying it out. I don't intend to show initiative results to the group regularly - not for any desire to hide them, but simply to avoid putting up a second monitor and distracting everyone with the numbers (not to mention that it could spoil any secret participants in the combat). While this does take initiative rolls out of the hands of the players and is a step away from the transparency I've been shooting for as DM, in this case I think the streamlining of initiative may be worth the exchange. Moreover, since any edit to the initiative roll column on the sheet forces a re-roll of the entire round, it would be difficult for me to "fix" anything as long as I'm willing to show the results when needed.

All for now!

FR #14: Marshland Horrors

First post of the new year; I see the game moving along at a slower clip in 2017 due to upcoming real-life events, but let's see what we can do...

12 Kythorn

A brief deliberation set the party's direction north, through the marshland, to see what else they might uncover in the forest. The morning fog gave way to a dark, looming canopy overhead as they entered the Witherwood, a subtle rain barely permeating its thick boughs. The trees, brush, and fauna all seemed normal, and the party observed no signs of disease.

When finally they began to set a fireless camp after hours of roving through dense and uneven terrain, Merlin alerted the group to a lifeless, bloodstained gnoll slumped against the trunk of a think oak. In the dim twilight the party noted the same pockmarks and boils that infested the stag they'd encountered with Roth-grim, two days hence. They dared not draw near, ensuring that their campsite was kept at a suitable distance.

During the night, sounds of creatures traipsing through the wood prompted Wren and Riwyn to ascend into the low branches of nearby trees while Arendeth and Aranos took guarded positions on the ground, blind but for the dwarf's infravision. When the movement slowed and veered toward them, the PCs readied themselves for battle, ere a pair of dog-faced gnolls attacked, wounding Aranos before knowing their demise.

The next day, the party meandered east, then turned south, successfully avoiding more gnolls spotted by Merlin, and discovering a copse of corroded trees, likely damaged by something resembling acid. At dusk, they neared the edge of the marsh and again set their camp.

Upon waking and reentering the marsh, disaster struck: quite suddenly, as the PCs made their way through the tedious wetlands, they became aware of hulking, frog-like forms situated around them on all sides. Exchanging wary glances, the companions ran back toward the wood, but the frog-creatures pounced, driving crude metal implements at the party with severe force and outpacing their quarry effortlessly. Aranos was impaled and fell face-first into the murky ground; the remaining party members stood fast, swinging and slashing with all the deftness they could muster at the half-dozen bullywugs assailing them, but the numbers favored their enemies and Riwyn fell, then Wren, with only a single frog-man laid low in return.

In a rare instance of good fortune, Arendeth evaded the attackers long enough to cast hold person, magically paralyzing two of the remaining five. As the melee wore on, the dwarf splattered two more bullywugs amid the marsh, ere the final mobile enemy took flight. Racing against time, Arendeth cast cure light wounds on Aranos, then Riwyn, then Wren, mere moments each from breathing their last. The dwarf urged his companions to flee while slaying the first paralyzed frog-man before hold person expired. The last bullywug, free of its magical bindings but finding itself face-to-face with the dwarf whose morning star had crushed four of its allies, leapt backward and disappeared into the swamp.

Arendeth ushered his companions, feverish and barely able to move, into the forest, allowing them to rest. No creatures happened upon them for the remainder of the day or night, but in the early morning hours a larger platoon of bullywugs began milling about the location of the previous day's encounter. Arendeth led the party away, skirting the edge of the marshland but wading further into the tree cover. When no enemies followed, the dwarf was at liberty to regain spells, which he applied generously to his allies, restoring them to able statuses. Half the day already passed, they continued their trek south, arriving at the trail that led to the crossroads at nightfall.

They marched west, toward the fiefdom, spying a mounted rider. Hiding in the woods, Arendeth cast hold person at the steed's approach, but seeing that the rider was indeed a Brithem soldier, the dwarf released his spell and the party returned to Brithem in the dead of night.

The Skin of Their Teeth

I didn't really think, after the battle at Whisper's camp, that a closer call resulting in no character deaths would be possible, yet here we are. Here's a screenshot of my damage tracking for the session, in all its glory:

The numbers don't align exactly to the combat rounds (because that's not how I track damage), but the black 1s at the bottom mark the rounds of the hold person spell, and the red 1s in the character rows mark the "death's door" damage incurred in the rounds after falling unconscious. As it was, Aranos dropped to 0 and gradually fell to -9 before being healed during the last possible round by Arendeth. Riwyn and Wren each dropped to -1 and fell to -9 and -8, respectively, before being healed. The three consecutive castings of cure light wounds by Arendeth left the dwarf with only a single round to deal with the two magically-held bullywugs, during which he executed a coup de gras to slay one.

Up to this point in the campaign, I've probably applied the recovery rules to characters restored from negative hit points a little loosely. In this particular situation, it felt critical to apply them strictly, since the party was left in such a frail and volatile state following the encounter, especially with so many dangers lurking in their surrounds. From the "death's door" rules in the 2e DMG (p. 75):

If the only action is to bind the wounds, the injured character no longer loses one hit point each round, but neither does he gain any. He remains unconscious and vulnerable to damage from further attacks.

If a cure spell of some type is cast upon him, the character is immediately restored to 1 hit point—no more. Further cures do the character no good until he has had at least one day of rest. Until such time, he is weak and feeble, unable to fight and barely able to move. He must stop and rest often, can't cast spells (the shock of near death has wiped them from his mind), and is generally confused and feverish. He is able to move and can hold somewhat disjointed conversations, and that's it.

For the sake of consistency, I'll adjudicate this more closely in the future. In previous games I may not have erased spells from a character's mind, etc. Going forward I'll try to stick to the book.

Planning vs. Luck

"Luck is what happens when preparation meets opportunity." —Seneca, Roman philosopher

I don't want to lose sight, in all the above, of how directionless the party was in rummaging through the forest. The players all knew this, so it's not like it was any kind of secret, but I think the end of the adventure drove home how treacherous their foray really was, lacking sufficient resources or a solid plan. It's certainly possible that they'd have found something more meaningful given a little luck, and I'll also add that Merlin goes a long way toward supplementing the absence of a tracker, having the ability to survey the group's surroundings at a wide radius. Those things said, in the end, the party's success or failure in investigating the Witherwood was left more to chance than anyone probably desired.

The luck of the dice will always play a role in any D&D session; such is the nature of the fantasy world when we play. But one of the core tenets of a successful D&D party should always be to minimize the luck factor as much as possible, through proper planning and the use of resources, be they items, information, hirelings, familiars, etc.

XP

I wouldn't typically divvy out experience at this point since no major milestone was achieved, but given the party's uncertainty about continuing its present course, I think it best to do it now.

• Gnolls, 7 - 350 XP
• Bullywugs, 6 - 390 XP

Shares have been divided up and added to the totals on the site.

Forging Ahead

I'll need some idea of the party's plans before the next time we play, as there was much hesitation at the notion of returning again to the Witherwood, or even venturing elsewhere to gather more resources for Brithem. Feel free to discuss your options in the comments or separately offline. In any case, I'll want to know the group's intentions about a week or so out from the next session, once it's scheduled.

Learning new spells from captured spellbooks

It's probably useful if I outline the procedure for learning new spells from other wizards' spellbooks. We've looked, previously, at the parameters around using scrolls, which are effectively a one-time-use means for supplementing a wizard's spell slots. Spellbook writings are permanent, though the rules for copying them are similar.

• In possession of an unfamiliar spellbook, a wizard must use read magic to decipher its contents. Read magic allows the wizard to read two pages per caster level; an individual spell consumes one page per level of the spell. (In the previous post I assumed that Riwyn was willing to expend the necessary number of castings, two, to read the full volume.)

• Once the spellbook's writings have been deciphered, the wizard can attempt to copy any number of its spells into his or her own spellbook, using his or her own personal notations. Each spell requires a successful Chance to Learn Spell roll, with failure indicating that the spell cannot be learned at the present time. A new roll can be attempted (assuming that the wizard still has access to the spell) upon attaining a new level.

• If the Chance to Learn Spell roll succeeds, the wizard must spend one full day of study per level of the spell copying the runes. (The degree of dedication required for this work typically can't be achieved while adventuring.)

Note that a wizard isn't able to memorize spells directly from a foreign spellbook, only from the wizard's own spellbook.

Feel free to post any questions or clarifications as comments.

FR #11: Forest Banditry

The vote prior to this session set the party's direction as Luskan. After a short reprieve at the Slumbering Manticore, supplies were replenished and the company set out west along the game trails leading to Port Llast.


24 Mirtul, darkmorning

Traveling conditions were favorable over the course of three days; at the end of the first, the party divided into two rooms at the Drunken Mermaid in Port Llast, ere they departed early the next morning and pushed on into the night, camping and trudging on again into the following afternoon, their booted feet worn but happy to be journeying amid comfortable spring temperatures and underneath clear, blue skies.

During the party's first watch, in the shadows of its campfire, Arendeth cast detect magic on Rumolt as he slept. This mention is to serve as a note of that, though the dwarf has yet to relay any findings to his companions.

As the day began to wane and the party began to anticipate reaching the crossroads, they were approached by a southbound wagon driven by a middle-aged man and woman outfitted in travelers' garb. The wagon, piled high with stacks of tanned leather and hides, slowed as it drew near, and the man aboard it hailed the adventurers through a thick, graying beard, warning of highwaymen further up the road. He stated that the would-be thieves were less than formidable, and that the pair had escaped unharmed and unhindered after the lady shot an arrow through one brigand's hand as he came hither.

Thankful for the warning, the party pressed onward, and as twilight loomed, a fretful voice called out from the east, demanding gold for passage. As two bowmen advanced between the trees, Lincoln stalled them with words and Wren fleeted into the grove, hidden from sight. The companions refused to proffer payment, and the lead bandit's demeanor quickly crumbled into emotional distress as he slumped against a tree and wept.

Through tactful discourse, the PCs learned that the brigands were not highwaymen at all, but a metalsmith and his brother made to rob travelers along the road by thieves who held the smith's wife and daughter captive in the forest, and threatened to kill and defile them should the brothers not acquiesce. Hiding deeper within the grove was the smith's son, a boy of sixteen winters who cradled his right arm, its hand impaled by an arrow.

The PCs pledged their aid to the family, and agreed that the smith's son would lead the party to the encampment where the trio was to report before nightfall, while Berwyn remained near the road with the father and uncle. The men explained that the camp was being manned by a mercenary called Kirtak (a name that Lincoln recognized from his prior dealings with the bandit leader, Whisper), but that the captured wife and daughter were held elsewhere, at an unknown location in the forest.

Kirtak's camp was situated halfway up a tree-covered ridge; a burgeoning fire bellowed amid a gathering of armed thieves as Wren surveyed the scene from an adjacent hillock. Shortly, a bandit scout crested the same hill and was felled by Lincoln's bow. The adventurers fanned out, archers taking to either side while Lincoln and Arendeth marched for the camp, the dwarves in plain sight of the thieves but shielded by underbrush.

Arrows volleyed up and down the ridge; after the first three bandits fell, Kirtak and a lone remaining brigand rushed past the dwarves, heading for the hill. The party gave chase, and as the fastest PCs began to gain ground, Kirtak drew up his sword and wounded the ally that ran alongside him, delaying the bandit while Kirtak fled into the night.

While the dwarves captured and bound the injured man, Kirtak's attempts to escape were thwarted by Riwyn's magic as she and Wren continued their pursuit. At long last, and many yards removed from the rest of the party, Kirtak turned on the women and stood to battle them for his life. Blows were exchanged over gruesome rounds of swordplay, ere Wren dealt a killing strike to the mercenary, laying him low. Injured and exhausted, Wren and Riwyn rejoined their allies, and after healing magic was expended, the party gathered the father and uncle from the road and claimed the bandit camp as their own, in possession of a single captive.

DM's Commentary

Another successful session for the party, which managed to plunder a hostile camp with its ranks fully intact. Though Rumolt continues to travel with and aid the PCs, the uncovering of bandit activity connected to the thieves that set upon them earlier in the campaign has at least momentarily overshadowed the matter of the scepter.

In the climactic melee between Kirtak, Riwyn, and Wren, Riwyn's casting of enlarge upon the mercenary's longsword was particularly interesting, and stirred up a bit of debate regarding the mechanics.

The Player's Handbook doesn't go into great detail on the effects of enlarging a combatant's weapon, and I needed to make some split-second rulings on how to handle it. I wanted to itemize here the decisions I made in the heat of the moment, both to explain why I ruled the way I did, and also illustrate the amount of quick-thinking that needs to happen "behind the screen" at times. It's not always easy, and pretty much always subjective.

The three on-the-fly rulings I made for enlarge were:

1. That the weapon wouldn't receive a saving throw. Per the spell description, "Unwilling victims are entitled to a saving throw vs. spell." - but an object carried by such a person has no will to measure. This seemed straightforward, but still warranted consideration.


2. That Kirtak needed to succeed a Strength check (which he did) to avoid dropping his sword. It stands to reason that a wielded weapon could fall from the grasp of even a seasoned fighter upon unexpectedly becoming heavier and unbalanced. If a grease spell had been cast on the sword instead, a Dexterity check would have been appropriate.


3. That the increased size and weight of the sword would result in a -4 to attack rolls made with the weapon. Here, I was challenged in that I allowed Kirtak to retain the benefits of weapon specialization when fighting with the enlarged longsword. I can see the argument, and had considered, alternately, treating the sword as a two-handed bastard sword, and having it acquire such a sword's attack and damage properties, negating Kirtak's specialization. In the end, the -4 penalty was imposed as a means of rendering Kirtak's attacks objectively (or "strictly") worse. I don't think a longsword increased to 130% of its original size would be the equivalent of a different, albeit larger type of sword. It would instead retain the shape and overall function of a longsword, just become unwieldy.

Interesting how a single game ruling can be wrapped up in so many nuances. As we have other unanswered questions about weapon specialization as well, I might post some of this to the forum to see what others have to say.

No XP awards at this juncture, but it’s beneficial to list the items found amid the bandits:

• Longsword, longbow, and banded mail carried/worn by Kirtak
• Kirtak’s gold necklace and coin purse containing 33 gp (taken by Riwyn)
• Bandit swords, short bows, sheaf arrows, and leather armor
• Bandit coin purses totaling 29 gp and 19 sp (taken by Arendeth)
• Miscellaneous supplies not individually described (rations, water skins, packs, lengths of rope, etc.)

I'm planning to put up a subsequent post momentarily to give the PCs an opportunity to speak with their captive between sessions.

FR #8: Plundering the Orc-infested Ruins

16 Mirtul, darkmorning

The party elected to accompany Rumolt into the forest; as such, the PCs quickly bolstered their equipment in Port Llast before reconvening at dawn on a trampled field at the east edge of town, where Rumolt meandered among a spattering of horse-drawn supply carts and caravaners. Terms with the adventurer were set (a hundred gold and an equal share of treasure gained to each party member upon completion of the quest, with Rumolt retaining rights to anything belonging to his former companions), and a leather-wrapped coin roll was handed to Wren upon request as a gesture of legitimacy. Ere, the cluster of travelers departed the mustering grounds in unison (as was typical during the trade season); despite the onset of rain which dampened their march, the journey was uneventful and the party arrived at the hunting lodge near sunset.

The Slumbering Manticore was a three-story, timber frame cottage with a billowing stone chimney, surrounded by semi-permanent campsites sheltering various woodsmen and suppliers (even a dog breeder). Upon entry, they were registered by the inn's proprietor, a burly, brown-skinned man named Corbulet (one gold piece per head for nightly board and meals, tendered for all by Rumolt), and proffered food and flagon by his alewife. Once seated, the party was approached by a tall, wiry young man bearing a facial scar: Rictus, constable within the surrounds. They took their rest shortly thereafter, and in the morning, the party departed the Manticore, led by Rumolt east along the game trails.

Several hours of treading in isolation through the forest brought them to depths where the beaten path dwindled, and the party set camp with no fire. During the night, the snapping of a large branch (or possibly the trunk of a small tree) echoed from the north; no clear evidence of the noise's source could be determined at sunrise.

As the party delved deeper into Neverwinter Wood, the forest became difficult to navigate. Hourly or thereabouts, Rumolt took to halting for extended periods, reaching inside his tunic and lowering his eyes in repose, presumably the effect of a previously-mentioned wound suffered during the orc ambush. Notably, after these brief stoppages, Rumolt frequently adjusted the party's direction, though never drastically. As latefeast approached, the companions arrived at a shallow stream. Rumolt indicated that the orc lair, set in a defensible valley amid abandoned ruins, was near, and followed the stream's roll to the northeast.

Smoke lingering in the air preceded the sight of a bonfire as the adventurers crested a hill; scouting ahead, Wren counted a dozen humanoid forms around it; as she signaled to the others, two of the outlines jogged up from below, raising javelins and cudgels. Wren, Riwyn, and Rumolt fanned out with bows drawn, laying the things low as the rest of the party advanced to the sightline. A second band of a half-dozen orcs charged up the hill and the archers pushed eastward as they spotted more bodies scrambling out from behind fragments of structures that littered the low dale.

Arrows cut the dense, evening air with deadly accuracy, and a brutish orc waving a longsword and directing its fellows was struck by Wren's bowshot, and felled. The creatures on the hill clashed with Arendeth, who suffered a vicious hack from a cudgel while wielding a Tempus-endowed flame blade. Simultaneously, a rat swarm conjured by Berwyn engulfed the melee, assailing ally and enemy alike. The battle ended quickly: orcs were decimated in waves, and those that managed to avoid the party's slaughter fled to the north as the party descended on the valley and began to scour the ruins.

Five charred skeletons, held together by melted tendons, stared blankly from pikes near the bonfire. Swallowing his anguish, Rumolt noted that the longsword next to the impaled orc leader had belonged to one of his former allies; he bade the party to keep it, thrusting its blade squarely into the earth as he surveyed his companions' lethal work.

Most of the ruins amounted to crumbled walls and portions of roofless buildings, with the exception of a cylindrical fieldstone tower. Its topmost reaches collapsed, it harbored three intact levels: a ground floor, adorned with a bed of leaves and thatch along with piles of mostly-consumed bones, an upstairs, and a basement. While the upper floor was empty save for a caved-in stairwell, the underground level was stocked with crude provisions and treasure: a weathered, lidless chest filled with electrum and silver, a suit of human chain mail, and a bundle of vellum sheets protruding from a leather case. Rumolt indicated that the scrolls and mail were owned by his companions, but that the chest was not. Furthermore, he imparted that the party was free to utilize the scrolls as needed, but that he would assume possession at the completion of their journey. Identifying them as wizard scrolls, Berwyn tucked them into his pack.

Also in the basement level, Rumolt discovered a moveable brick that opened a secret passageway into a low-ceilinged catacomb. Lincoln and others traversed it two hundred feet, at which point chittering sounds could be heard from beyond. They aborted the effort, doubling back and resealing the secret door. The party decided to take refuge in the tower's second floor; watches were set.

During the night, Merlin the owl reported to Riwyn that several orcs were rummaging in the forest a half-mile north - presumably those that had fled the lair earlier in the evening. Later, a hulking ogre wandered into the ruins, chewing on the body of a lifeless orc. Not having exposed a light source in the tower, the party kept silent, and after several turns the ogre departed the grounds.

The next session will begin at dawn on Mirtul the Nineteenth. Berwyn has already expended a casting of read magic to discern the contents of the scrolls, which were provided to him in private.

DM's Commentary

Rumolt has drawn much suspicion ever since he first approached the party in Port Llast. That the players haven't reached a consensus on him is probably a sign that I'm running him well. I wrote this in a previous post during the Ravenloft campaign. I think it holds true even more in this campaign, where the absolute nature of good vs. evil is mostly secondary to personal goals, ambitions, and the need to survive and thrive in the game world:

Not every person or creature you meet in the game will be cookie-cutter good or evil. Sometimes bad things result from good intentions, and vice versa. Sometimes what's good in one person's eyes is malevolent in the eyes of another. Sometimes motivations are conflicting and blurred. Subjectivity is a remarkable thing.

I'm not going to award XP now, seeing that we're mid-adventure, but it's safe to say, assuming her survival, that Wren should gain a fighter level when I do. The orc battle was lucrative enough regardless of the system used; interestingly, by the Tao system, Arendeth gained the most of any party member from the battle. Arendeth was the only PC to sustain damage and the only PC not to deal damage himself, and the Tao system advocates that this accounts for the greater learning and advancement among the participants. It makes a lot of sense, but I'm still not ready to adopt the rules. The spreadsheet I've devised to track the details has worked well for me so far, but I still like the idea of dividing XP evenly. It removes any kind of bias from the distribution and ultimately is easier to keep track of. We'll see.

Scrolls

It's probably a good idea here to write a few notes about scrolls. Wizard scrolls are created primarily for quick casting; they serve to supplement a wizard's available spell slots beyond what he or she has memorized.

• When a spell on a scroll is cast, it is permanently expended. Spells on scrolls are one-time use.
• In order to copy a spell on a scroll into a wizard's permanent spellbook, the spell must be cast; thus the scroll is expended.
• Attempting to cast a spell from a scroll imposes a chance of failure if the spell is of a higher level than the wizard can normally cast. The failure chance is 5% per caster level difference.
• In the event that failure occurs, there is a subsequent chance that the spell could backfire in a way that negatively affects the wizard or his/her allies. (This chance is small.)
• Any wizard desiring to know the contents of or cast a spell from a scroll must first cast read magic to read the scroll. (While Riwyn knows that Berwyn handed her a scroll with magic missile which he previously read, Riwyn cannot actually use the scroll without casting read magic herself.)
• Read magic enables a wizard to read two scroll pages per caster level. In this session, Berwyn, as a 3rd-level wizard, was able to read six pages, the exact amount he needed to read all six scrolls.
• Specialist wizards cannot cast spells from scrolls that are from prohibited schools (please let me know if anyone finds a contrary ruling on this).

There was a bit of tension at the table when Berwyn pocketed the scrolls and kept his findings to himself. If this is a problem for the other players (or characters), the best first step is to address it in-game. As DM, I expect a reasonable level of trust within the party and require that PCs not subvert their companions. That said, Berwyn's conduct strikes me as leaving a sour taste in the other players' mouths as opposed to warranting adjudication from the DM. That's not to say that this kind of non-teamwork couldn't inhibit the party's success in the current adventure and beyond, but for now I'm leaving it in the PCs' hands.

I really enjoyed gaming with everyone on Saturday and hope all the players had fun as well. It was great to finally have the full group together!

XP: The ends justify what makes you stronger

I’ve always taken an “ends justify the means” approach to awarding experience in D&D. It doesn’t matter if the frost giant whittled the PCs to within an inch of their lives, or if the mage sneezed and a boulder fell and crushed its head before combat ever began. The result arrived at was the same; who am I to judge the party’s methods?

It can get a little silly, when you think about it. In the case where the mage sneezed, the fighter might literally have been standing around doing nothing and reaped a sizable XP award for it. Or maybe he was about to do something stupid, like leave his weapons and armor behind and try to tickle the giant’s ear with a feather. It doesn’t matter. The ends justify the means. The party defeated the giant, so the characters gain and split evenly the XP for doing so.

I don’t think it’s fair, as DM, to cast judgment on these situations. They’re too subjective. The party’s tactics might have put them in position to beat the giant with nary a sword drawn to begin with. In this case, the party could be considered more successful than that which beat the giant while suffering grievous wounds over the course of many rounds - does the battered party deserve more XP, or less? (I guess it depends what you think experience should represent, in your game. More on this later.)

It’s important, when issuing XP for a defeated enemy, to consider whether the party members were actually at risk (or at least, whether they believed themselves to be at risk). But that also can extend beyond the actual confrontation to the events leading up to it. If the PCs slew a band of orcs by firing arrows from atop a cliff that made them nearly impossible to hit, I’d still award the party full XP so long as the situation could have reasonably unfolded differently. For example, if the party had chosen to take the mountain pass instead of the low road, that decision led to the advantage of higher ground, and consequently the ease of their victory. The same course might have made an encounter with a wyvern that much more treacherous.

That is to say, even though the party in this example was not at immediate risk while firing upon the orcs, they were still at general risk in their surroundings, and gained experience from decision-making that led to a successful end result. This is definitely not a combat-centric way of looking at XP.

A key aspect of this approach is that it suggests XP not be awarded for unsuccessful endeavors by the PCs, regardless of good tactics or how much bad luck might have contributed to their failure. Should the party that battled the giant ferociously for many rounds before fleeing really be awarded nothing? It’s a hard question to answer, but my game allows for just that, since the party, despite its efforts, wasn’t able to figure out a way to best its foe.

For better or for worse, the ends justify the means.

“Story” Awards

This is where my subjectivity does come into play. I commonly issue “story awards” when in-game milestones are achieved, though this is a bit of a misnomer. It implies that the party is running through a narrative, and that the group has ventured far enough down a specific path to complete some premeditated story arc that I’d conceived. That’s not really what I mean to represent.

“Story awards” in my campaign would be better named “adventuring awards” or “execution awards”; they serve to reward the party for impacting the game world in a meaningful (and intentional) way. The two recent sessions involving black dragons from the Witherwood are a good example. In session #4, when the first dragon was slain, I issued a massive bonus award of 4,000 XP. I called this a “story award,” but what it represents is the impact the PCs had on the fiefdom of Brithem. The party, through its actions during the session, turned a situation in which the entire castle and its farms could potentially have been lost, into one where only a single Brithem soldier was killed before the dragons were turned away. The 4,000 XP story award was a measure of the characters’ impact on Brithem and its inhabitants.

Conversely, in session #5, the party struggled to find an answer when the second dragon returned and began assaulting the outlying farms. Though the PCs ultimately prevailed and saved the bulk of the fiefdom, their presence was less impactful overall, since many lives and resources were lost. I subjectively decided that this session warranted a much smaller group award of 1,000 XP. (Another reason for this is that I didn’t feel the characters would have “learned” as much from this second encounter as they would have from the first. The actual planning and combat was more of a known territory to them at this point.)

It’s also noteworthy that the reason these awards exist in my game at all is that the campaign is generally not combat-and-treasure-focused enough to give out XP strictly “by the book” and expect the party to advance at a reasonable rate. Given the infrequency with which we play, it still requires many months of real time for low-level PCs to gain a level. The “story awards” help supplement both the nature and real-life pacing of the campaign. For me, this system works well, even though it leaves a large amount of the party’s advancement up to my discretion.

What Doesn’t Kill You...

The reason for writing all the above, is that I recently read Alexis Smolensk’s alternate XP system, which rewards party members for dealing, taking, and witnessing damage when involved in combat, regardless of the encounter outcome. The justification for this is that all of these represent learning experiences for the characters. I personally find this a fascinating approach to XP, and think it makes a great deal of logical sense.

For my campaign, I’m not sure our sessions are combat-heavy enough on a consistent basis to effectively apply Alexis’ system (although the multiplier could always be raised to help compensate). It also comes saddled with additional in-game bookkeeping (on my part) and questions where it pertains to certain types of spells. But I love that it incentivizes players to take risks and work together, and provides a good framework for accelerating the advancement of lower-level characters that enter the party due to a new player or the death of a previous character. I somewhat dislike that it fails to award tactics that lead to a greater degree of success by the party, though that could be supplemented by the story awards described above. It’s something to think about trying as the game goes on.

Learning vs. Success

The fundamental difference between these two systems is that the traditional views experience as a measure of achievement, while Alexis’ views it as a measure of learning. Alexis’ system also encourages the players to take more risks, where the traditional rewards tactics that avoid excessive risk. I worry that Alexis’ system creates a dynamic where the players are faced with conflicting goals: take the bloodier path and gain more XP, or employ superior tactics and ensure everyone comes out alive. It definitely isn’t a system I’d move to without significant buy-in from the group.

A final and important point of note is that neither Alexis’ nor traditional systems award XP to characters that get put to sleep and robbed in the middle of the night...

Magical rat swarms are NOT movable...

So after we played last time, Sean pointed out that the swarm conjured by summon swarm is not movable. The second-to-last line in the spell description is "The swarm is stationary once conjured."

Oops. I don't think it would have made that great a difference, given the logistics of the tunnel opening. But FYI for next time...

Rules to live by (or die trying)

As everyone continues to prepare for session #1, here are a couple good posts to reread (or just read, if you haven't read them before):

Players: What you need to know to play

The Importance of Finding Another Way (and AD&D Combat Math)

These are written more for new players, but if I did a decent job they really should benefit anyone. I also highly recommend A Quick Primer for Old School Gaming as a good AD&D mentality refresher.

On the topic of numbers and rules, one AD&D mechanic that always seems to get house-ruled is the critical hit. By the book, a natural 20 on an attack roll hits automatically. Many groups expand this to the attack automatically dealing double or max damage.

Over the years, I've developed a tendency to leave the critical hit rule alone. As unfun as it is for a player to roll a '1' for damage after scoring a natural 20 on the attack, the problem is that the mechanic tilts both ways. Player characters will generally be targeted by more attack rolls during a session than their enemies, and have much, much more to lose from erratic swings in damage. In the AD&D world, all lives are not created equal!

Hopefully, the frequency with which the players breathe a sigh of relief that we didn't change the critical hit rule will outweigh the times they bemoan it. Keep your tactics sound and the rolls will take care of themselves.

EDIT: Oops, I was wrong on this one. Sean pointed out to me that we did enforce max damage on natural 20s in Ravenloft, despite its potential to be detrimental to the party over the course of many battles. I'm OK with continuing that, in the name of the players' fun superseding the statistics. Anyway, it's far less swingy than extra dice or multipliers.

AD&D 2e: Ranger's favored enemy ruling

From the AD&D 2e Player’s Handbook (p. 29):

In their roles as protectors of good, rangers tend to focus their efforts against some particular creature, usually one that marauds their homeland. Before advancing to 2nd level, every ranger must select a species enemy. Typical enemies include giants, orcs, lizard men, trolls, or ghouls; your DM has final approval on the choice. Thereafter, whenever the ranger encounters that enemy, he gains a +4 bonus to his attack rolls. This enmity can be concealed only with great difficulty, so the ranger suffers a -4 penalty on all encounter reactions with creatures of the hated type. Furthermore, the ranger will actively seek out this enemy in combat in preference to all other foes unless someone else presents a much greater danger.

As we’ve been using the 2e rules consistently for character creation and advancement, this applies to Gaertorin. Through a bit of research, though, I’m going to agree with what seems to be a large segment of DMs that restricting the favored enemy to a specific “species” is sometimes too narrow to be relevant in a given campaign. As such, for Gaertorin, the rule will apply to a broader “type” of enemy, which will allow him to appropriately favor “undead.” This should be a nice benefit to the party and is very much on theme for the character.