Showing posts with label character class. Show all posts
Showing posts with label character class. Show all posts

Monday, March 11, 2024

REDBOX MUSCLE WIZARD

Muscle Wizards are ace. Redbox Hack is ace. So here's a Muscle Wizard for Redbox Hack.

The Muscle Wizard was, I think, first birthed by Monstrous Television and then further developed and remixed by Basic Red, Ten Foot Polemic, and Goblin Punch.

Basically, I am very late to the party.

MUSCLE WIZARD

You are a wizard, but instead of learning magic through arcane study, your awesome power derives from your extreme muscularity. Books are for nerds. Armour is for nerds. Even weapons are for nerds. All you need is confidence, muscles, and lots of oil.

LIMITATION: PUMPING IRON

Maintaining your physique requires constant exercise. While others rest you work out, which keeps you nice and fit but the combination of increased endorphins and sleep deprivation makes you a bit erratic and strange.

"BONUS" LIMITATION: (POSING) OIL AND WATER DON'T MIX

You may never borrow a Cross-Class Talent from the Magus, nor may they borrow from you, but don't worry, you can still be friends.

FIVE TALENTS

ALWAYS AWESOME: You are flamboyant and impressive and you treat Showing Off rolls of 7 or less as 8.

CUTTING A PROMO: You have a knack for rambling and borderline nonsensical monologues that can nonetheless entertain and entrance a crowd for a scene, or minutes equal to your Eloquence score if you need a more exact duration.

MAGICO PUUUUUUNCH: You channel your sorcerous power through an unarmed strike, which doesn't have to be a punch! You always cause normal damage, plus anything from Awesome Tokens, and the target must roll Stubbornness versus TN7 or lose their next action as they are swept up in a swirl of magical energy. You must speak the name of the spell as you attack -- and please come up with your own evocative names! -- otherwise your punch is just a normal punch.

PHYSICALLY FIT, PHYSICALLY FIT, PHYSICALLY, PHYSICALLY, PHYSICALLY FIT: You gain a +2 bonus to Armour, Size rolls, and any other rolls involving feats of physical might, except attacks.

QUITE THE FLEX: You flex your mighty thews and in doing so warp reality in your immediate vicinity. You define what is true within a bubble of a radius roughly an arm's length from you, for as long as you gurn and strain. To maintain the flex for an extended length of time -- longer than a short scene, say -- or if you are somehow distracted, you can take a point of damage or roll Stubbornness vs TN 9, your choice.


Appendix MW:

I did have a few more punch spells in my original draft and allowed the Muscle Wizard player to choose which spell was "cast" when they attacked. I realised that this was both making the class more complex than the other RBH classes, and it was making the Muscle Wizard more versatile than the Magus, when they should be more or less equal. So I stripped the other spells out, but I also didn't want to lose them as an option, so here they are:
  • Blast: 2 Damage. A Magus will consider this a grotesque bastardisation of their Talent of the same name. You probably don't care what they think.
  • Confusion: the target rolls Stubbornness versus TN7 or loses their action.
  • Darkness: The target's vision is obscured until they Move.
  • Dispel: A single magical effect or spell is negated for a turn. Permanent effects can be dispelled if you sacrifice an attribute point.

Tuesday, July 13, 2021

Child Automata

LOAD "CHILDAUTOM", 8, 1
...
LOADING
....

No one knows where these strange machines originated, not even the machines themselves. Sages and scholars point to the significant differences between the Children and other automata on the Deadly Sands and say that they can't be from the same source, but what other explanation is there?

Each Child Automaton has a black or dark grey mechanical body that can only pass for human at a distance or if concealed. Their heads look human and are only revealed as artificial when touched, as their skin has the texture of strange, pliable metal.

Child Automata, as the name suggests, always have the appearance of children between 10 and 16, although some "younger" individuals have been reported. No "adults" have ever been seen, and the Automata do not appear to age or grow. Automata almost always have adult personalities, although if you want to play an actual child robot, that's okay too.

If your game uses forgeborn, warforged, robots, tick-tock men, or whatever, then use those to represent Child Automata, except you will probably want to reduce their size and movement speed; look at gnomes or halflings for pointers on how that works in your ruleset of choice.

If your game doesn't have artificial people as a character option, then use the following guidelines:

They are immune to disease and poison, and do not breathe, drink, or eat, although can mimic all three.

They heal like normal creatures, as internal systems knit together broken components, a process that baffles scholars. Healing magic works by overcharging these internal systems. Probably. Who knows?

Child Automata do need to sleep each day, just like their flesh-and-blood companions. All Child Automata have the same dream, one of a lush meadow full of tall grass and wild flowers, with bumblebees buzzing and butterflies flitting about. No living person has ever seen such things, so the source of these dreams is of considerable interest to these scholars I keep mentioning. How individual Automata react to these images is up to the player, and if you're running one of those trendy collaborative storytelling type games, maybe the origin of the dreams is also up to the player. Whatever works for you.

Some Child Automata display a sort of compulsive behaviour that may be the result of fragments of deep programming. A player of such an Automaton can roll on the following table.

GO$UB #1987 (d12):
  1. OBSERVE RECORD REPORT (to whom?)
  2. COLLECT X AND ANALYSE
  3. DESTROY X
  4. I WANT TO BE A REAL BOY/GIRL/WHATEVER
  5. PRESERVE LIFE
  6. LOCATE OTHER
  7. PROTECT X
  8. UPGRADE BASE UNIT
  9. LOCATE ORIGIN POINT
  10. CREATE ANOTHER
  11. WHAT IS FUN?
  12. BATHE IN THE BLOOD OF THE FLESHY THINGS

Wednesday, November 18, 2020

You Are Really Spoiling Us

Here's a preview of some content from a project in the works at Lamentations of the Flame Princess, although you can use this with most old-school D&D variants. Have a go, and let me know how you get on!

Selenite Ambassador

You are an extension of Irdonozur, the Supreme Monarch of the Moon, sent to Earth to experience life on another world. You come in peace, wish to be taken to their leaders, and all that sort of thing. You have been selectively bred for diplomacy and open, friendly communication, but you are also a pale, chitinous thing with an enormous head so you’re going to get some odd looks.

Selenite Ambassadors have a hit bonus of +1 and start with 1d6 hit points at first level. Use the Magic-User experience table to determine experience, hit points, and saving throws for subsequent levels.

Selenite Ambassador characters start with the following special traits:

Alien: you stand out among the people of Earth and cannot pass as human, unless under a heavy disguise.
ESP: you can cast the ESP spell at will.
Hive Mind: you are, for all intents and purposes, Irdonozur, but your distance from the Moon has caused some interference or lag, and you have developed an independent consciousness. You may also have evolved such eccentricities as your own personality or even a unique name, like “Roger”. Should you return to the Moon you will “synch” and “update” – to use terms that the kids will understand – as you rejoin the hive mind and it absorbs your experiences. Whether this is fine and good, or something to be avoided, is up to you.

Each time a Selenite Ambassador gains a level, they should roll on the following table to see what happens. Some abilities are limited and you should roll again if you are ineligible to receive that ability.

Spells are cast at the Ambassador’s current level, which is a bit wonky and sort of breaks the rules but I won’t tell anyone if you don’t.

2d10 Ambassadorial Abilities:

2: You can transfer your consciousness to a willing entity and ride along in their mind, experiencing everything they do. While this happens, your body goes into a trance and does not require food or water; if your body is destroyed while you are hitching a ride, you must save versus Poison or your consciousness dissipates. You can transfer from one mind to another if, again, the new entity is willing. This ability can be gained only once.

3: You grow sharp chitinous claws, like those of your warrior siblings. The claws do 1d8 damage. This ability can be gained only once.

4: All Selenite Ambassadors have a pair of tentacle-like limbs in addition to their arms, but yours have developed into extra, fully functional, arms,. You gain an extra attack each Round and can do things like use a shield and a two-handed weapon at the same time. You can get this result only once, except in one case; if you gain wings (19) they replace the extra arms, and a subsequent roll of arms will then replace the wings, and so on.

5: You gain 1d6 Hit Points this level instead of 1d4.

6: Your chitinous exoskeleton is tougher than normal. Add +1 to your natural Armour, up to a maximum of 16.

7: You can cast Forget once per day. If you get this result again you can cast it twice per day, and so on.

8: You gain +1 Charisma, up to a maximum of 18.

9: You can cast Command once per day. If you get this result again you can cast it twice per day, and so on.

10: Your psychic awareness lets you detect hostile intent, which reduces your chance of being surprised by 1, to a maximum of -4, at which point, yes, you cannot be ambushed.

11: You are one of millions of Selenites, and if you die, Irdonozur will just hatch another one. You are immune to fear.

12: You can cast Remove Fear once per day. If you get this result again you can cast it twice per day, and so on.

13: You extend a psychic aura of calmness and geniality, which gives you +1 to Reaction rolls, up to a maximum of +6.

14: Your psychic powers interfere with hostile spellcasting, giving you a bonus of +1 to saves versus Magic. You can gain this benefit three times for a maximum bonus of +3.

15: You can project a bolt of psychic force into the mind of one being within 60’ once per Round. The target must save versus Magic or suffer 1d4 damage.

16: You can cast Confusion once per day. If you get this result again you can cast it twice per day, and so on.

17: You can cast Chaos once per day. If you get this result again you can cast it twice per day, and so on.

18: You can cast Feeblemind once per day. If you get this result again you can cast it twice per day, and so on.

19: You have grown a set of wings that allows you to fly at your normal speed. If you have already developed extra arms (4) the wings replace them. You can gain this benefit only once unless you have previously had your wings replaced by arms, in which case your arms drop off and your wings grow back. If you spend ten levels growing arms and wings in a never-ending cycle, then you have my sympathies.

20: Your huge psychic brain is smaller – but no less effective! – than those of other Ambassadors, and your body shape is closer to that of humans, all of which makes it easier for you to move amongst the people of Earth. You no longer have the Alien trait.

Monday, February 11, 2019

Bones

The Dead City wasn't always known by that name. Once it was a thriving metropolis full of scholars that mapped the world and the stars, and were as arrogant as they were wise.

The wizard-kings of the Dead City foresaw the End and found a way out. It will surprise no one at all that this plan went wrong, and ZAP! that's how you end up with a city full of intelligent skeleton people. These skeleton people are known as Bones.

The Dead City is somewhere far away on the left side of the world map and most Bones have either been away for so long that they have forgotten where it is, or have no desire to return.

It is, of course, full of fun things for adventurers to find, including the spells needed to create more Bones, piles of treasure, and unhinged skeleton-wizard-kings.

If using races, treat Bones as human. Bones can be of any class or profession.

Bones do not need to breathe, drink, eat, or sleep -- although can mimic those actions -- and are immune to disease and poison. Bones age, but suffer no ill effects and can live forever if careful.

Bones do not heal, and healing magic -- if used in your campaign -- harms them by the same amount it would heal a living creature. Reversed healing spells may heal Bones, at the GM's discretion.

Specialist artisans, sometimes called bonesmiths, are able to repair damage to Bones, including age-related deterioration.

If your campaign includes the turning of undead, this works against Bones, but as their life force is stronger than most undead creatures, they are never destroyed by turning, but flee instead.

Some Bones remember the End and the rituals that changed them into their current forms, and have been scarred by these memories. A Bone player can choose to roll on the following table to generate a psychological issue relating to those memories.

I SURVIVED THE APOCALYPSE AND ALL I GOT WAS THIS LOUSY PSYCHOSIS (d12):
  1. "I survived, so I must be special."
  2. "My grasp on life is fragile and everything is dangerous!"
  3. "I survived death itself; I am invincible!"
  4. "I do not deserve to live when so many others did not."
  5. "I did not survive; this is some sort of hell."
  6. "The wizard-kings caused all of this. No magic can be trusted."
  7. "Every living thing must be made like me before another End occurs."
  8. "What do you mean I look like a skeleton? How absurd!"
  9. "I can return things to how they were. All I need is..."
  10. "One day I woke up like this. I remember nothing before."
  11. "Life is meaningless. All life. Including yours."
  12. "All life is precious and must be preserved."

Update (24/07/2020): Bones cannot speak, at least not as they once did. Some have developed a complicated language of clicks and clacks; 1 in 10 dwellers of the wastes understand this language. Others make do with sign language, which is understood by 4 in 10 characters.