A Race of Two Halves

Almost every player has, at one time or another, played a non-human character. Whether an elf, dwarf or even half orc, non-human humanoids add an exotic and mythical touch to any role-playing fantasy setting, be it online or in books. But I sometimes cannot help but wonder if some of the character races introduced are a tad bit far fetched or irrelevant.

For one, I really do not see the use of half elves as a race. I think they’re catered more towards a player who can’t decide if he wants to be elven or human, and thus offers him a perfect solution to his dilemma. I don’t see their functional value. Half elves may make good reading (Tanis, the only half elf of note), and little else. This also applies to half orcs. This class probably was created to take into consideration certain players who are brutish and incapable of any subtle moves.

Another point to note is the drow, or dark elf. This is one new character race that really, if all things are considered, does not have a logical rationale to its existence. Can there be a good drow? Are all evil elves drow? Dragonlance and Forgotten Realms seem to differ on the concept of the drow. In Krynn, the term drow is not used extensively (or at least, not till recently). Dark elf is used more as an adjective, rather than to denote a particular race. It represents an elf who has turned away from the typical elven existence and is a follower of the evil gods. Hence Dalamar is portrayed as a normal looking elf who serves Takhisis. Drizzt, on the other hand, represents the dark elf as a race, both physically and mentally. The ebony skin, the snow hair and red eyes highlight the physical difference between a normal elf and an evil one. More so the fact that drow in Faerun worship Lolth. So where does that leave an evil elf who worships, say, Bane or Bhaal? Is he or is he not a dark elf?

In terms of D&D, I feel that races should be homegenous, for the simple fact that there aren’t any half minotaurs, or half halflings, or half dwarves. If elves and orcs and humans can interbreed, why not dwarves, and halflings and centaurs? What would the offpsring of an elf who breeds with a dwarf be? Mind boggling, to say the least.

Thus, I reckon future editions of the D&D Handbook should leave out ‘half’ races and include more feasible ones to the exisitng list, such as centaurs and minotaurs. The drow should also be reinvented as a race separate from elves in all aspects. After all, can anyone honestly permutate the results of intercourse between a drow and a gnome?

[Image from D&D Player's Handbook]

The Warring Wizard

What is there to write about wizards that has not already been written? Mere weaklings at the lower levels, powerful entities at the latter stages. Wizards start off being vulnerable to a single blow from a goblin, and usually end up being able to wipe an entire army with a single word. Among all the classes, this class displays highly extreme characteristics at both ends of the character level spectrum.

There are several aspects that make a wizard all-so-powerful. The most obvious would be his or her spellbook. Having a tome with a mixed variety of spells makes a wizard more capable of adapting to ever changing scenarios and environments. This is to say, a wizard who fills up her spellbook with purely offensive spells (think Fireball, Meteor Swarm etc) will no doubt be extremely dangerous. However, forsaking spells like Globe of Invulnerability and True Seeing can often lead to battles that could have been prevented. A wizard with a mixed bag of tricks bring unpredictability to an encounter, thus making it hard for an opponent to pre-empt her attack. Compare this to a dedicated necromancer; necromancy spells will be hard pressed against good cleric spells or areas devoid of undead.

Magic items are a must for any wizard intending to survive the first level. Not just any magic item, but items that can help arm and protect the wizard from damaging blows. Think Bracers of Defence and Girdle of Giant Strength. Contrary to popular belief, a wizard should know how to fight in a melee. Running away from every battle becomes improbable after a while, and when push comes to shove, the wizard has to turn around and fight. Also, choose a good staff and enhance it. Most magical staves have their own imbued power, like the Staff of Illusion and Staff of Withering. A wizard is judged by her knowledge in arcana. She is also judged by her staff and eventually, her tower. Therefore an astute collection of magic items, coupled with a potent staff, can greatly enhance a wizard’s power, and standing among her peers.

Thirdly, the tower. I’m not going to get into details of how to build a tower, or abode. Suffice to say, a wizard’s tower (or mansion or keep or etc) should be well guarded, hidden from prying eyes. And no, building a tower on another plane is never a good idea, for planar creatures are highly intelligent and powerful. The tower should also be functional and be a source of power for the wizard. This means having several portals leading to places away from the tower in times of research or danger. It should also contain a good library, with books and tomes on ancient histories, civilisations and beings. And a working laboratory isn’t such a bad idea either. To protect and guard the tower, an army of undead never ceases to send shivers down the spines of adventurers, though more and more wizards these days are using living creatures as guardians, such as minotaurs and draconians. Golems and elementals are also good choices. This, and a deadly outlay of traps, will ensure that never again will pesky gold diggers raid your vault and make off with your precious treasures.

A final note to anyone interested in donning robes and reading off a dusty tome, think of Raistlin. Now take him out of your mind and consign him to the farthest reaches of your grey matter. Almost everyone who plays a wizard uses Raistlin as a role model, right down to the tea he drinks. Don’t, I say. Be creative, be unique. Raistlin is but one of the many wizards in Faerun/ Ansalon. And it is quite clear that his character was tailor made for literary pleasure, and not so much for actual adventuring. Discard any notions of challenging Mystra or Selune or Mishakal for godhood; you will either die miserably, or you will die instantly. Gods do not suffer fools, that’s for sure. Why can’t I challenge the gods, many a player playing an arcane spellcaster often asks. The answer is simple enough. Gods are not subject to stats and combat rolls; in other words their attributes are so damn high that, barring a one, the divine ones can hit and cause something like 300 hp damage, which usually silences their critics almost instantly.

[Image from magewiki.wikispaces.com/]

Dressing Up for a Night Out

‘So there you are, all armed and suitably protected, bristled to the bone with every manner of weapon conceivable. The sheer weight of your weapons is enough to bring down a lesser man, but not you, as you heroically trudge on. Your full plate mail armour glistens proudly as the clanks and chinks of your armour echo down the road.’

So how much is too much weapons? And does weight really add to the realism of things, or merely function as yet another box on your character sheet? Does weight trump logic when it comes to D&D, barring the obvious fantasy settings of the game? When it comes to weapons and armour, characters (especially fighters) are notorious hoarders. Every killing gadget is stored ’somewhere’ on the body, and always seems readily available for use in a split second. One of my travelling companions once had four swords (two of which were bastard swords), a battle axe, a spear, a pole arm, and a lance, just to be on the safe side. Any DM worth her salt would say no, this is not practical, which our DM did. To his credit, my companion was Zen personified as he coolly pointed to his character sheet and indicated that he could still afford to carry more.

Lesson of the story? Yes, D&D is fantasy based, but many phenomena are governed by rules and logic, just like in the real world. Dragons can fly, but they can’t soar, flip through a spellbook, release a spell or two, and finish off their opponent with their breath weapon. In the same vein, a fighter can’t be a one-man walking arsenal, with hilts protruding from every angle of his body. So what is the feasible number of weapons that can be carried by any given character, based on realism and logic?

Well, in my campaign, I limit weapons carried to four or five items, depending on type. Greatswords are always carried strapped to the back (assuming the character is on foot). The greataxe is also carried the same way. Other than short swords and scimitars, all other bladed weapons on the waist are limited to one item only. This includes broadswords and longswords. This allows for another hand held weapon to be carried using the sword belt, including a mace, warhammer or flail. Note that characters using two short swords or scimitars are not permitted to carry another hand held weapon.

Now let’s say we want to suit up a highly experienced warrior. Well, his greatsword +4 goes onto his back, strapped on securely. Next up, he sheathes his longsword, and slip a mace into his sword belt. He attaches a dagger sheath to his belt; before tying a dagger to each leg respectively. Feeling he’d need to hunt for food, he brings along a short bow (slung over his shoulder) and a quiver of 20 arrows, slung by his side. With his chain mail suit already on, this valiant warrior dons his helm and starts on his quest to rescue the Baron’s daughter.

As you can see, arming one’s self to the brim with weapons can be quite a challenge, especially if almost all the available weapons are of masterwork quality or magical. The key is to take what is necessary, not what you think might be necessary. A longbow is not much help at all in an aquatic environment. Neither is a greatsword in a cramped up passageway where the only way through is by crawling. No player should be allowed to carry a spear, a trident, a glaive, a heavy crossbow and a tower shield while clad in plate mail armour. Even if the character has a Str of 19 and is heavy set. It defies fantasy logic, and D&D is definitely logical in a fantasy sense.

[Image from www.wizards.com]

The Faithful Departed

Sometimes, when I look back, I’m mildly surprised that the D&D sessions are still going strong. Yeah, there are times, admittedly, when interests wane and familiarity breeds contempt (to a certain extent). But all in all, the general consensus is that the adventures thus far have been satisfying, often thrilling, and will continue to bring excitement for quite a while.

I’m sure none would have anticipated the world of D&D forming a staple routine on Saturdays. From the days of rolling the dice in Pan Subang, to the current venue of Asia Cafe, everyone in the group has come a long way since first adventuring with brightly shining armour and newly crafted swords. I reckon end 2008 will mark four years of adventuring, which started in October/ November 2004. I even recall running a mission the night after Christmas, oblivious to the outside world, only to find out that the tsunami had occurred while the characters were busy facing perils of their own.

Even more astounding is that the group started out with two members, and numbered 12 or 13 at its highest. Other than the core Companions (cleric, wizard, bard, ranger, fighter, rogue), there were many other characters who ventured forth into Mystara and Faerun but never made it back. The earlier ‘Others’ include three fighters (Rony, Basil and Rus), a cleric (Jacob), a fighter (Raz), a barbarian (Su Li) and two paladins (Alex and Anand). I could be mistaken, but Niks’ friend also played all-so-briefly at one time, though I stand corrected. Later, the new ‘Others’ comprised Abu Dada (Sandy) and Trumpy (Denis). Of course, the rogue later left and a new fighter would eventually join the group (formerly of paladin fame). So all in all, I’d say this group of D&D aficionados has been graced by 16 players, past and current. And that’s quite a feat, I assure you. In this day and age, finding a group of four itself is near impossible here in Malaysia, let alone a steady pool of five or six hard-hearted, ogre-bashing, goblin-tearing characters.

Who says D&D is only for the geeks huh?

The Krynnian Chronicles I

Walking tentatively. That’s how the now-separated Companions are treading through Ansalon, and Krynn in general. The spellcasters are still feeling vulnerable from being unable to unleash their potent magic. The warriors, on the other hand, seem unaffected by the new surroundings, and are steadily flexing their muscles.

A quick recap. The Companions arrived in Krynn mysteriously. Completely unaware of their location, they sought to find answers to their burning curiosity. A chance encounter with a flight of Red Dragons left them shaken, as the dragons did not seem to behave like Faerunian ones. It was only a matter of time before they went their separate ways, each eager to spread his or her own wings and explore this fascinating new land.

The fighter stumbled upon a band of kender (think a dozen Tasslehoffs) as he ventured south. The kender were on their way to ambush a patrol of draconians. Cristos joined in the fray, and tagged along as the kender marched merrily towards their quarry. Once they spotted the draconians, the fighter decided to do a spot of reconnaissance and creep closer towards the enemy camp. To his great misfortune, he was captured and interrogated by a spellcasting Aurak dragonman. Cristos held his tongue, and the frustrated draconians decided to take him to a dragon. Luck smiled on the naked and bound fighter, as the kender mounted a successful ambush on the patrol, though the Aurak managed to ride away with the fighter’s belongings.

Siren Sing-a-lot, on the other hand, managed to steer clear of trouble relatively well. Walking alone after parting ways with the rest of the group, he chanced upon the grand village of Elmwood. There, he was celebrated as being the first Silvanesti elf to visit the village in more than a century. All fine and sundry, if he had any idea what a Silvanesti elf was. True to his character, Siren played along admirably and was feted with praise and a banquet. However, the true nature of the villagers’ warmth was revealed during the festivities, when the mayor (Elmwood is too grand for a mere village headman) pestered the bard to rid the village of menacing wolves from the nearby forest. This wasn’t exactly part of Siren’s plan to relax and head to the nearest city (Solanthus) the next day. He proceeded to avoid the villagers at all cost, though a frail gardener proved to be most pesky. Just as he was about to make a clean getaway, the bard was discovered by Jamsik who pleaded for his help once more, before having his spine torn out by a Worg. As the Worg leapt at the bard, Siren drew out his sword and…

Iliath continued her journey to Nightlund. Having visited Palanthas and discovering that the Tower of High Sorcery there had been taken to Nigtlund, she hastened by horse to reach her destination. The message she had received puzzled her, and Lord Soth’s apparent intervening hand seemed to further muddle things up. Even an ambush by draconian bandits did not stop her from blazing forward. At Vingaard Keep, a tense encounter with river pirates ensued, but keeping her temper down for once allowed her to gain passage across the Vingaard River, even making an acquaintance in the process. From then on, it was full steam ahead, and eventually the cypress forest surrounding the Tower came within eyesight. Two encounters tested her capability of keeping her head about her, the first involving skeletal warriors, and the latter being the apparition of Dalamar the Dark. He was to serve as her guide and teacher, as she entered the Tower to undertake the Wizard’s test.

The cleric and ranger stumbled upon the City of Lost Names soon after escaping from the Dargaard Mountains. The ruined city appeared uninhabited, though the ranger’s tracking skills proved otherwise. While Spartan rested, the cleric ventured deeper into the city, where she stumbled upon an army of skeletal warriors. Where once she would have easily turned them, now she warily stalked them, stripped of her devastating divine power. She followed the army of undead into a building that had seen better days. Inside, she ventured into the inner sanctum of what obviously had been a temple at one time. A spectre revealed itself and launched a deadly attack.

The ranger, worried about the cleric, then decided to search for her. Discovering her tracks, he followed them into the ruined temple. He remained invisible to the skeletal warriors, though he lost his advantage when he shoulder-charged a hollow wall. As he fell, he saw the cleric below him. Using his magical ring, he slowed his descent and mounted the cleric’s flying broom, before whisking Arwen away from the room, despite the attentions of a colony of steel insects.

Despite his best efforts, the ranger was unable to revive the sleeping Arwen. This was due to the cleric making contact with Mishakal, who explained the Disc the cleric had earlier found. Arwen was offered the chance to become a disciple of Mishakal, and was entrusted to return the Disc to its rightful owner. However the cleric, and the ranger were still not out of trouble as they were trapped in a room covered with falling debris.

The young Martel, fresh from his encounter with the dragon knights of Neraka, had infiltrated the city of Kalaman. However, things were not proceeding as planned. Having alerted the stockade of his presence, he escaped into the city proper, though he sustained heavy wounds. As he wove along the mazy alleys of Kalaman, the fighter kept working out his plan to gather the magic password that would open the city’s gates. A brief moment of carelessness led him to the path of two draconian sentries, who seemingly ended his life. However, the gods favoured him when a cleric of Shinare brought him back from life and allowed the fighter a brief respite. Damas then revealed a secret passage through the sewers into the fortress, before leaving the young giant from Godnest. There is almost nothing worse than getting lost in a sewer, and the struggling Martel began to learn his lesson the hard way, when a horde of dire rats fell upon him. He evaded them eventually and made his way to the end of the sewer tunnel, where he entered the fortress proper, and started his task in earnest.

The Blood Diamond

This was by far the longest campaign the Companions had ever been part of since they started D&D way back in 2004. What had initially been planned as a medium-length adventure eventually became one that had gone on for months. It was a pleasure DM-ing this campaign, and though some of the characters weren’t too happy with the conclusion, I felt it had been a unique and challenging experience for them.

The Story Before

Eons ago, Chaos and the Gods fought a war in the heavens over supremacy of the known worlds. Facing defeat, Chaos hid himself in a diamond He had earlier created. Unbeknown to the other Gods, Mystra discovered the diamond, and kept it for herself. To ensure it would remain hidden during the War in Heavens, she left it to the charge of a brass dragon residing in Faerun, but did not reveal the truth about it. Unfortunately, Mystra was slain, and the dragon became the sole owner of the diamond. Centuries passed, before a lich discovered the existence of the diamond and sought it out. He duelled with the dragon, who, facing certain defeat, used its fire breath to destroy the diamond. However, the diamond was not destroyed, though it had been split into two halves. The lich returned to his tower with the diamonds, intent on unlocking their secrets.

Several years passed by before a group of adventurers encountered the dragon, which had survived the battle. It convinced them to regain the two halves of the diamond, which they agreed to in exchange for countless treasures. They succeeded, but soon succumbed to in-fighting upon capturing the diamonds. The situation further worsened when the lich caught up with them, intending to regain what had been taken from him. In the ensuing fight, one half of the diamond was lost, while the other fell into the possession of one of the adventurers.

Enter the Companions

Siren, during one of his frequent forays into the city of Waterdeep, chanced upon the acquaintance of a retired adventurer, Ramirez. The ailing veteran and the bard soon became close friends, often sharing tales of adventure and song. As a token of friendship, Ramirez gifted Siren with a polished diamond, citing his gratitude as being the reason for the valuable gift.

A couple of weeks later, the Companions were invited to the wedding of Eduard Balanthor. However the wedding turned into a tragedy when a group of assassins attacked the guests and kidnapped the bride. The Companions were able to discover a link between the diamond Ramirez had given the bard, and the diamond on the wedding ring. The next day, they were contacted by a certain Glavias, who demanded the bard’s diamond in return for the bride’s release. The Companions, after consulting Khelben Blackstaff and the Wizards’ Guild, decided to comply with villain’s demands, fully intending to slay him once they had rescued the bride.

Around the World

Thus started an adventure that would take the Companions almost the entire length of Faerun. They travelled to foreign lands, a first for some of them, hunting down the elusive Glavias and his cohorts. They came upon the slave markets of Sembia, and duelled on the sands of Calimshan. They sailed to Tashalar, and battled through Halagard, before arriving in the Eastern Realms. Kozakura posed a challenging obstacle, as did Shou Lung. The Companions gave thanks to the gods when they finally crossed the Dragonwall and rode on the Plains of Horses. They were tired, worn and still unsure of the grander scheme of things. Throughout, Glavias had remained one step ahead of them, seemingly always knowing their next step. It didn’t help matters when the Companions discovered that Glavias had allied himself to Morgius, a previous acquaintance and sometime quarry.

The final showdown in the bowels of the Sister of Doom took place after the Companions had experienced a gruelling track through the volcanic mountains. By now, they had discovered answers to their many questions, but there would be one final surprise. As the protagonists in this epic saga readied to do battle for the last time, Siren, with the aid of Arwen and Iliath, fused the two halves of the diamond together. It would spell the end of Faerun as Chaos, his millenium-long plan finally realised, broke free from the whole diamond and destroyed the known world.

(Image taken from www.counterfeitchic.com at Google images)

The Fearsome Fighter

The fighter is often acknowledged to be the most versatile of character classes in D&D. On paper, it is a straightforward class, requiring relatively-lesser time to master, and results are guaranteed within the first ten levels. Yet, in reality, this could not be further from the truth. I can assure you that there has been many a time when a high-levelled fighter, armed with a +10 greatsword and protected with an AC 35 dragonscale armour, has been fried to a crisp by a Fireball from a mid-levelled wizard or turned into a skeleton by a low-levelled cleric.

So why are fighters often at a disadvantage as the game proceeds to the higher levels? Why are they able to vanquish dragons and giants, yet helpless against spellcasters who are probably only half their character levels? Is there any cheat/tip/guide that can help fighters alleviate their apparent disadvantage at high levels within the rules of the game?

The fighter basically fights. Yes, d-uh. What many players don’t understand is why they fight and what their chosen class is all about. Everyone wants to be Caramon or Sturm or Legolas or Gimli. But choosing a class based on literary or film influences isn’t exactly the smart thing to do. Not if you’re serious about playing the game and ruling vast acres of land. The fighter may not require brains, but this is no excuse for the player to fling the thinking cap to the corner when playing.

Attribute wise, the fighter banks on Strength, Dexterity and Constitution. Which is where most players dump their high scores when rolling for attributes. This often means that players are happy to use scores like 8,9 or 10 for the Intelligence and Wisdom slots. This automatically puts the fighter at a disadvantage when it comes to spell saves. Almost all spells require an Int or Wis save DC. Failure is not an option, it is a certainty. And this effect will keep snowballing to the latter levels, which is why surviving a Polymorph spell becomes a question of life and death.

Traditionally, the fighter has always been geared up for attacking. This function serves as a double-edged sword, where the downside is that a few bad rolls and you would have not caused any damage, while taking quite a few heavy blows. Imagine this: a fighter trapped in a room with a crazed wizard. Fail the initiative roll, and the swordsman had better hope for divine intervention. Of course, surviving the wizard’s first attack will not be the end of the problem, cause the arcane spellcaster would be wrapped with plenty of protective spells. A couple of failed attacks and wham, bam, you’re finger-lickin’-good, m’aam.

So what to do, what to do? Well, have a plan. No, not a plan to fight like Conan or find the most powerful weapon known to mankind. Going on a killing spree to rack up the XP is not a plan either. Instead, focus on your character goals. Do you want to be a ruler eventually? Do you want to control an army and plunder enemy lands? Or do you want to open a warrior school and train novices to be the best warriors in the land? Do you want to dabble in the politics of Ansalon or Faerun? These are some of the questions that a player choosing the fighter class should ask herself.

Next, and this is the secret ingredient, build up your armoury, not your arsenal. In due time, the fighter gets multiple attacks. In due time, the fighter causes devastating damage with every successful blow. What the fighter doesn’t get in due time is protection against spells. Which necessitates the need for solid protection. An Amulet of Protection against spells, or a Chainmail that gives a +5 bonus against magical attacks is what I have in mind. The fighter should protect herself as much as possible against magical and undead attacks. View the potential of these sorts of magic items, instead of expressing disappointment and tossing them away after discovering a magical chest. Keep an item which enhances the Wisdom and Intelligence scores. Save DCs are dependent on these two attributes, so disregard them at your own peril. A Helm of Protection against undead may seem trivial to a fighter who has an AC of 40, but that AC 40 isn’t going to help you against wraiths and ghouls.

One last piece of advice: always stock up on Potions of Healing. Never leave home/ the inn/ the tavern without them. These potions often decide if you live through a Pyrrhic battle, or start creating a new character.

(Image from www.renstore.com)

Melina’s Keep

I must say, this was one of the creepiest adventure I ever planned. Much of that was due to the relatively-quiet ambience in Asia Cafe the evening we played. Only three players turned up – the rogue, wizard and fighter; and in a way, the smaller group made it possible to create a haunting and spine-tingling scenario which had the players fully immersed in the story.

In a nutshell, Melina’s Keep centred around a haunted castle. The players were called to the company of a local nobleman, who wanted them to investigate strange events occurring in the castle. From the moment they knocked on the castle’s doors, the players were drawn into a chilling tale involving undead creatures, wrathful spirits and even a diabolical witch. The players separated early on in the game, and each strutted around the castle confidently, sure of their abilities and fighting prowess.

But the things took a turn for the worse. The apparitions started to emerge thick and fast. Silent Blade got trapped several times in several closets, Iliath ran away from a confrontation with the earlier-mentioned witch, while Cristos was forced to fend off ghouls ahead of him, while keeping an eye on the ghosts behind him. I think two mind-screwing scenes were when the wizard approached the figure on the rocking chair, and when the rogue stood on the castle walls looking down on a corpse in the rose bushes. And when the very castle came alive, the companions hit the panic button.

Ultimately, they gathered their wits about them, and delved deep into the crux of the matter at hand. They were to discover that the spirit of Melina, the nobleman’s dead child, controlled the castle and she wanted revenge for her untimely demise. The threesome managed to overcome and placate her in the final reckoning, though it cost the nobleman his life. The companions departed the castle, looking on as the structure went through its ‘death throes’ and disappeared from the very site it had stood on.

The one ingredient that held this adventure together when I concocted it was atmosphere, as I mentioned earlier. It was necessary to have a quiet place to play out the adventure. Atmosphere and ambience were what made Melina’s Keep an eerie and extremely uncomfortable place to be in. On any other adventure, a lack of the aforementioned ingredient would have resulted in this being just another hack-and-slash-turn-undead walk in the park. I have to say that I referenced the official D&D site as well as Stephen King’s Rose Red to project a building that was not only alive, but malevolent and vengeful as well. And evil little children always add the chill to any haunting, every time without fail.

(Image from www.underworldtales.com)

D&D Forever

D&D has come a long way since breaking into the market sometime in the late 70’s. The best part, as a game, was that it didn’t really require a lot of money to be played. Okay, that may not have been true for us Asians, but generally, it did not cost hundreds of ringgit like computer games (think Karateka and Atari) or board games (think Monopoly and Risk). I’m not sure about other countries, but D&D in its original avatar arrived on our shores somewhere in the mid 80s. Due to the novel mechanics of the game, it found a niche among lower secondary students (think 12 onwards). Almost every school with English-speaking students had at least one D&D group, though many schools were quick to label the game as unhealthy and ban it.

For me, D&D was a natural progression to greater battles and more epic adventures. The figment of my imagination was first stirred awake by the Choose Your Own Adventure Books (do a Wiki, for the uninitiated). This was proceeded by the Lone Wolf Series. Up to today, I still rate it as THE best gamebook (collectively) of all time. Yes, there was Blood Sword (Crusader-esque), GrailQuest (Arthurian-based), Fighting Fantasy (various settings) and Way of the Tiger (probably the only Oriental-based gamebook). But Lone Wolf was a head above them, in terms of character development, storyline and game-play. And it was during this time of my life (11-12 years) that I began to DM. Not based on any D&D manual, but rather on the various systems used in the aforementioned gamebooks. Looking back, the most telling influence from these gamebooks was the ability to stretch the imagination and concoct wild fantasies, littered with valiant knights and rampant ogres. My ‘D&D’ group at the time comprised my neighbour, my brother and my sister. So one can easily imagine the in-fighting and tantrum-throwing that I would have had to put up with. Sigh…the ordeals of a DM are never simple, let alone an up-and-coming one.

My first actual D&D campaign began when I was in Form 1, as a player (yey!). I played a cleric, and maintained the character for three years. By the time the group disbanded, I (my character) had near god-like abilities. I was a little saddened for having not attained immortal status (not provided for in the AD&D Player’s Handbook 2nd Ed.) but I knew I had become a damn good cleric. Surprise surprise, a new campaign started in 92, with a new group of cronies. This would be a different experience altogether, as our band of four all played evil characters. I never imagined playing a lawful evil Paladin would be so challenging. I started out with the aim of sacking and razing cities, but ended up having to protect my subjects from some crazed dracolich (if such a creature were possible). We lasted two years, before SPM outrolled us, and scattered us across the world.

Eleven years later, a chance conversation rekindled my dormant passion for the game. I half-interestedly checked out the D&D website, and within several months, I had gathered a group of hungry adventure-seeking-yet-D&D-ignorant players, eager to chart new territories. Armed with the 15-year old 2nd edition PHB, an equally outdated version of Unearthed Arcana and even older copies of the Basic D&D Companion and Dungeon Master Sets, I rolled back the years and assumed the mantle of DM once again. Who would have imagined that four years down the road (and plenty of squabbles and snide remarks), the core group is still valiantly hacking and slashing and casting and fumbling on their way to more glory and power. And with the new 4th edition version of manuals coming out soon, who knows when we’ll lay down our swords, hide our spellbooks and retire to a small inn in Waterdeep or Solace.

Who knows indeed.

(Image from Wikipedia)

The Zealous Cleric

“Stand back, foul fiend! I command you, back to the Abyss!”

A cleric would, more often than not, find himself spitting out those words of fury at some pit fiend or demonic spirit in a haunted castle or ghoul-infested cemetery. Holy symbol in one hand, a silver mace in the other, eyes blazing with religious fervour, the image of the cleric as the bane of all beings undead and unholy has long been one of the cornerstones of D&D. Many a time, a cleric is the difference between falling under the masses of skeletal warriors and waltzing through these undead creatures.

Yet the cleric remains one of the most under-represented classes in fantasy literature, and under-stated in many campaigns. Highly likely, the first and only name that springs to mind when mentioning clerics is Goldmoon of Dragonlance fame. Verminaard would be another. Slowly trickling out would then be Elistan and Crysania. What do they all have in common? Krynn. They hail from the Dragonlance setting. Which is quite understandable, as faith and gods play a larger-than-life role in Ansalon. On the other hand, clerics in Krynn are generally portrayed as patient healers who come across more as benevolent doctors than malevolent warrior-priests. In Faerun, I can think of only two clerics of note, who aren’t exactly major characters in their respective storylines. Adon of the Avatar trilogy, and Tarl Dessanea of Pool of Radiance. Then there is Cadderly of the Cleric Quintet series whom I found a complete antithesis to how a cleric operates.

Alright then, so how does a cleric operate? Well, many players have some sort of a blank page when playing the cleric. “To whom do I relate?” Well, one has to have a bit of knowledge on medieval history and plenty of imagination. The Knights Hospitallers hit the spot, without a doubt. They embody the essence of clerichood, so to speak. Noted for healing and caring for sick pilgrims, they were also renowned warriors, often resisting attacks by Mohamedeans, Turks and Saracens. The islands of Cyprus and Malta in particular bear testament to the noble Knights of the Order of St John. A more apparent successor would be the St John Ambulance service.

Right, enough of the history lesson. A cleric should focus on two aspects of the game: healing, and spirituality. Clerics remain the only character class with significant healing abilities. Monks, rangers and druids, while able to cure certain wounds, cannot compare to the cleric in terms of serious, restore-severed-hand, bring-dead-to-life healing. This ability is ably supported by the extensive list of protective spells in a cleric’s mind. A cleric suitably protected can often depart a battle scene with only minor scratches, if any. Ask anyone who’s fought an army of zombies or marauding ogres, and they’ll show you the many scars that serve as a proud yet painful reminder.

In terms of offensive spells, a cleric would always come out second best against a sorcerer or wizard. Yet a cleric should not use arcane spellcasters as a barometer of how potent his or her spells are. Clerics are blessed with what I like to call ‘offensively-defensive’ spells. Spells such as Flame Strike, Slay Living and Holy Word are devastatingly destructive when used defensively. Yet Flame Strike, for example, is often used in the same capacity an arcane spellcaster would use Fireball, whilst Slay Living is matched erroneously with Circle of Death, among others. Using these powerful spells to shore up individual/ party defences maximises their potential.

Take this scenario: A small party is ambushed by a group of bugbears and an ogre. The cleric and rogue form a defensive pairing while the barbarian rushes off to duel with the ogre. The cleric dispenses with several protection spells, which greatly hamper the bugbears’ progress. An overly-eager bugbear breaks through the protective barrier, suffering great damage and losing all initiative in its subsequent attacks. Calmly, the cleric steps up with a Flame Strike or Poison spell, which renders the unfortunate bugbear lifeless. The ogre, on the other hand, has stunned the barbarian and is heading towards the cleric and rogue. It’s heavily wounded after suffering some merciless sword thrusts from the barbarian, but is clearly intent on destroying the remaining party members. The rogue holds the bugbears back with some well-placed arrows, allowing the cleric to concentrate on the ogre. Just as the ogre comes within range, the cleric casts Slay Living. The ogre, having sustained grievous injuries, succumbs to the spells and drops dead. The cleric then Bestows Curse on the surviving bugbears, rendering them weaker, before the duo finish off their opponents. The cleric, however, knows his battle isn’t over. Making sure the rogue is not seriously wounded, he rushes to the barbarian who, fortunately, is not dead, though the Reaper beckons to him. Summoning his deity’s help, the cleric casts Cure Critical Wounds and brings the barbarian back from the brink of death.

Such is the function of the cleric – healer, protector and warrior, when necessary. Admittedly, it is one of the more difficult characters to handle, not due to the mechanisms of the class, but rather the player’s tendency to heavily favour either the sword or the spell. The cleric uses the balance between swordplay and spellcasting as an advantage to further individual and party goals and aims.

(Image from www.maknap.com)