New Magic Item: Checkhov's Gun
This might be a terrible idea, but it might also be awesome. I am reading Sabriel By Garth Nix, and right around page 80 something reminded me of Anton Checkhov's theory of gun control. This has not been play tested, and is written off-the-cuff.
Checkhov's Gun
Usable by: Bard Only
Checkhov's Gun is an artifact, possibly named for it's discoverer or creator. It can appear as any missile weapon that is campaign appropriate. It can be used normally and functions as a +1 weapon or +3 in the hands of a talented bard.
The Gun's real power comes when it is talked about or displayed prominently. If an NPC or PC discusses the weapon or reveals it's existence to any PC or NPC, it must be used before the end of the current game session, or it will disappear from the wielder's possession and appear someplace else to await a new wielder.
If the weapon is used after being revealed or discussed, the wielder will find it loaded, cocked, and ready to fire the instant it's needed. Then a d20 will be rolled to hit with the usual modifiers.
Critical Miss - The projectile will hit someone or something unintended in spectacularly dramatic fashion and slay or destroy that person or thing outright with no saving throw permitted.
Miss- As above, but the damage done to the person or object is a critical hit.
Hit- Automatic Critical Hit on the intended target.
Nat 20- Whatever was being shot is instantly obliterated/killed/Destroyed with no saving throw permitted.
Whatever happens next, it needs to be dramatic. That's on the DM, but if your bard is performing up-to-snuff, you may want to throw him inspiration or something.
Gallant Stride
Simplicity, Compassion, Dungeons & Dragons
Monday, November 9, 2015
Thursday, November 5, 2015
The below was my first submission to The Thought Eater Tournament, hosted by Zak S. Maybe you can get something out of it.
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You want is a system created that enables you infinite play? A campaign that goes on forever?
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You want is a system created that enables you infinite play? A campaign that goes on forever?
You
can’t have it. Nothing is boundless. There is no infinite game. Everything
ends.
And that is beautiful.
Infinity
is fucking scary. It’s wrong. It has no place here, in our hearts and minds.
The Abyss is infinite. I hear that when you gaze into it and it gazes into you.
(Though it also has 666 layers—a finite number--so try to make peace with
that, too) The Infinite is unknowable and immeasurable. It’s what your
adventurer is going out into. It is the void that births the horrors. It’s why
part of you is still afraid of the dark, and it’s why you get gooseflesh when
in that one room in your house. It’s why when you gaze long into that starry
night sky, you feel inspired but also small. Very, very, small.
Lives, objects, things around
us—those have beginnings, middles, and ends. We can measure them. We can count
them and we can know them. But the infinite is amorphous, unbound, and
unknowable. Infinity has no end, and no structure. Endings are what define us.
One day, you will stop playing
Dungeons & Dragons.
Any number of things might stop
you. Your Cleric may need to work some extra shifts on Thursdays. Maybe you
asked out another player, and even though you both promised it wasn’t going to
be totally weird, it’s still totally weird. Maybe you just had twins. Your
partner doesn’t game and you’re not comfortable leaving them with two newborns
so you can go pretend to be an Elf for a few hours. Or, you might just die. You
have an end.
One day, you will roll dice for the last time.
From that, we have two useful ideas
for gaming. The first is that Infinity is scary. As a player you struggle
against it. Adventure is the act of striking out into what is unknown and
undefined. You are on an undertaking that seeks to create an ending, to give
structure to the boundless--to tell the untold.
As a referee or game master, you
use the various infinities as tools. You present them to players, and interpret
the results of their choices. Tap into the fearful nature of the infinite, and
never take it for granted. Don’t ever present or use the known. When the Goblin
becomes a pest to be exterminated instead of a horror to stand against, retire
the goblin.
The second useful gaming idea is to
make every roll count. If you’re going to spend 4ish hours of your time each
week, plus your prep, make sure you’re spending it well. It, like everything else, is finite. It ends.
Try new and crazy things. Don’t
play with rules you don’t like. If you find you need a new rule for something,
make one. Write it into your PHB with a black permanent marker. If it sucks,
scratch it back out with that same marker. Make what you are playing hard--a
challenge. Talk to everyone and everything. Pick up everyone and everything.
Break the magic staff. Slay the monster. Insult the wizard. Seduce the High
Priest. Carouse. Use a lot of random tables and accept the result. Play hard.
Die. Roll 3d6 six more times and go again. While you’re rolling those 3d6 six
more times, look around the table and ask the Halfling to pass the Doritos. If
the Dungeon Master is getting up for a beer, ask them to bring you one and ask if
she wants you to roll for starting gold. Then look around and realize that
you’re working hard, playing like a fool and doing it with a few of your
closest friends. That beer is going to taste motherfuckin’ delicious.
Take
that. Take your infinite, your interminable horror. If you did it right, it’ll
make your skin crawl. Add the Halfling Rogue you asked out and with whom things
are still totally weird, but hey, they passed the Doritos so maybe it’s not a
lost cause. Your cleric friend just (finally) finished their shift, and you’re
rolling up what might just be a serviceable paladin. And that’s good, because the
Dungeon Master hired a baby sitter, and put together a new matrix of random
tables to try out tonight.
It is
not infinite, and that is beautiful.
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