The basic rule: you can only use a spell scroll if you are in a class that has the spell on its spell list.
Things seem pretty simple if you just look at the DMG’s description of Magic Items: Scrolls (DMG 139):
The most prevalent type of scroll is the spell scroll, a spell stored in written form …. A scroll is a consumable magic item. Unleashing the magic in a scroll requires the user to read the scroll. When its magic has been invoked, the scroll can’t be used again. Its words fade, or it crumbles into dust.
Unless the scroll’s description says otherwise, any creature that can understand a written language can read the arcane script on a scroll and attempt to activate it.
However, under Spell Scroll (DMG 200), the process is much more elaborate and restrictive (and in D&D, specific beats general):
A spell scroll bears the words of a single spell, written in a mystical cipher.
If the spell is on your class’s spell list, you can read the scroll and cast its spell without providing any material components. Otherwise, the scroll is unintelligible.
Casting the spell by reading the scroll requires the spell’s normal casting time. Once the spell is cast, the words on the scroll fade, and it crumbles to dust. If the casting is interrupted, the scroll is not lost.
If the spell is on your class’s spell list but of a higher level than you can normally cast, you must make an ability check using your spellcasting ability to determine whether you cast it successfully. The DC equals 10 + the spell’s level. On a failed check, the spell disappears from the scroll with no other effect.
That page also includes a table for determining the saving throw DC and attack bonus:
A wizard spell on a spell scroll can be copied just as spells in spellbooks can be copied. When a spell is copied from a spell scroll, the copier must succeed on an Intelligence (Arcana) check with a DC equal to 10 + the spell’s level. If the check succeeds, the spell is successfully copied. Whether the check succeeds or fails, the spell scroll is destroyed.
If you want to read a discussion of whether Spell Scrolls need to actually be scrolls, check here.
What if I just want to know what is on the scroll, just not cast it (yet)?
Since we don’t have Read Magic any more in D&D, how do we know what is on a scroll? That’s actually … not a very clear question.
The Identify spell will do it. But short of that, the answer is, “It depends.”
If the spell scroll is just a recipe for the spell, then the normal rules of (1) reading scrolls and (2) identifying what it does apply:
you need to be able to read
you need to be able to cast the spell in order to read it (i.e., it has to be in your class spell list)
and you need to spend a Short Rest trying to puzzle it out, just like any other magic item.
A beneficent, organized, communicative spellcaster, in forming the scroll, might have put a label on it (“Spell of Fireball” in plaintext). In which case you’d have a pretty big clue as to what it is and does, assuming you could find a beneficent, organized, communicative spellcaster’s works. And that you could actually trust that was what it does.
In theory, you could just cast the spell by reading it for the first time, without actually knowing what it does until the very end. A charitable GM might even let you make some sort of roll (e.g., Intelligence (Arcana) vs 10 + spell level) if, as you realize at the last moment what it does, you wanted to abort casting it. (It would still suck up a turn’s Action, though, as a minimum cost.)
I would also be willing to entertain the idea that, if you simply spend a Short Rest focusing on a scroll, you should be able to get an impression of what it does even if you could not use it and/or read it. A sense of the type of magic (necromantic, evocation), aspects of it (heat, cold, water, steel), colors, a usable class (choirs singing, the smell of damp earth), that sort of thing.
Or maybe not. Since you cannot actually read the scroll without being able to cast it, it sort of plays like “language” (“Crap, this thing is in German. Anyone know German?”) … but it’s definitely not a language. I mean, it’s possible to have a scroll that is usable (intelligible) to a druid and a sorcerer, and second one to a sorcerer and a wizard, and a third to a wizard and a druid, and language simply doesn’t work like that. Instead, it’s as though the words and formulae tie into some sort of internal mindset, some perception of reality, that is shared between some magic-using classes in some ways, but not non-magic-using classes (except, sorta, Rogues).
So more like, “Crap, this one is giving me a migraine looking at it, someone else want to give it a go?” Which might be the quickest way to deal with spell scrolls when found during an adventure, just having the various magic-users in the party pass each of them around until someone can read it. That is, you can quickly (if maybe painfully) tell if your class can use the spell, though you’ll need to spend that Short Rest to determine what precisely it is.
(Some interesting discussion here about this whole sub-question.)
What about Thieves?
Thieves are (in some cases) a weird exception to the above. At 13th level, Thief Rogues get “Use Magic Device” ability (PHB 97), giving them access to magical devices they would not be able to otherwise access.
By 13th level, you have learned enough about the workings of magic that you can improvise the use of items even when they are not intended for you. You ignore all class, race, and level requirements on the use of Magic Items.
Does the Thief’s Use Magic Device feature allow them to use spell scrolls? Yes. The intent is that a Thief can use spell scrolls with Use Magic Device
The thief would still have to make the ability check to actually cast the spell successfully, with the spellcasting ability = 0 (vs a DC of 10 + spell level), and without any proficiency bonus added in (basically a straight d20). If the spell requires a further spell attack roll, again the spellcasting ability is 0, but proficiency bonus does apply.
Do I have to Concentrate if I use a Spell Scroll to cast a spell that requires Concentration?
Some magic items [such as spell scrolls] allow the user to cast a spell from the item. The spell is cast at the lowest possible spell level, doesn’t expend any of the user’s spell slots, and requires no components, unless the item’s description says otherwise. The spell uses its normal casting time, range, and duration, and the user of the item must concentrate if the spell requires Concentration. Many items, such as potions, bypass the casting of a spell and confer the spell’s effects, with their usual duration. Certain items make exceptions to these rules, changing the casting time, duration, or other parts of a spell.
So scrolls give you the advantage of no components and no spell slots required. But you still have to concentrate/control the spells they cast.
5e has very much simplified (perhaps oversimplified, some argue) the issue of dealing with water as an obstacle, a location for fighting, and a danger. Always remember, D&D is not a physics simulator (or, as some have countered, it is a horrendously and hilariously bad physics simulator).
Note that there are a lot of exceptions below for creatures that have a Swimming speed in their stat block.
If the terrain within the swim is itself Difficult (e.g., a strong current, a kelp bed, etc.), this might increase to each foot moved costs three feet of movement.
There is (remarkably) no distinction in speed between swimming underwater or swimming on the surface.
Don’t forget the Dash action, if you are doing nothing but movement.
Long-Distance Movement in the Water
Long-distance swimming
If you have a Swimming speed, you can swim all day without penalty; use Forced March rules from the PHB.
Otherwise (per DMG 116), you need to roll a CON Save vs DC 10 for each hour swimming. Failure means +1 level of Exhaustion. Beyond that, there is a cap on 8 hours of swimming per day.
Deep Water
The pressures and temperatures of deep water take their toll. Per DMG 116, for creatures lacking a swimming speed:
if swimming over 100 feet deep, makes every hour count as two for Exhaustion checks and limits.
if swimming over 200 feet deep, makes every hour count as four for Exhaustion checks and limits.
Vision in the Water
Clear water, bright light — 60 foot visibility to notice an encounter
Clear water, dim light — 30 foot visibility to notice an encounter (Disadvantage to Perception).
Murky water / no light — 10 foot visibility to notice an encounter (Disadvantage to Purcepti0n).
Melee weapon attacks are at a Disadvantage (as you and/or your weapons are slowed by the drag of the water) …
… except for a thrusting/piercing weapon like a dagger, javelin, shortsword, spear, or trident.
This melee weapon restriction Rule-As-Written would seem to apply to fighting while on the surface (swimming), or even while partially immersed (imagine fighting in waist-deep water); I’m not sure that last makes sense, and an appeal to the DM might be possible. (I can see any sort of melee weapon attack being at Disadvantage when standing in, but not under, water, as you are partially Restrained.)
Ranged weapon attacks are possible underwater, but they are at a Disadvantage …
… except when using a crossbow, net, or a weapon thrown like a javelin, spear, trident, or dart.
They are an automatic miss if beyond normal range.
Material components may be difficult to manipulate while swimming or immersed in water.
Somatic components aren’t a problem, as only a single hand is needed for them.
Spells that require a to-hit roll do so at a Disadvantage (if above water, because of aiming while trying to stay afloat; if underwater, because of the murk and visual distortion underwater, and drag on your body).
Great way to resistance fire damage, Harry!
When you are fully immersed in water, you have Resistance to fire damage.
But aside from that, spells don’t do anything tricky. For example, lightning does not electrify the whole area. Remember (a) Bad Physics Simulator, and (b) it’s not actual lightning, it’s magic acting like lightning (handwaves).
Going “Prone” underwater
If something should knock you Prone while in the water, you are instead tumbling/floundering … but suffering the same status effects as being Prone (including slowed movement, Disadvantage to attack, Advantage to adjacent attackers) until you “stand up” / regain control with half your movement. (References 1, 2, 3).
Drowning
The rules here are essentially the same as suffocation rules:
You can hold your breath for (CON mod + 1) minutes (to a minimum of 30 seconds).
After that you survive (CON mod) rounds (minimum of 1) without needing more air.
After that, you are at 0 hp and are unconscious and dying. You can’t stabilize or heal until you can breathe — even if you make your three successful Death Saves, you only erase any unsuccessful ones and start the process over. You can be magically healed, but that can only get you back up to Step 2 unless you are out of the water by then.
Example: A creature with CON = 14 (CON mod = 2) can hold their breath for 3 minutes. After that, they start drowning/suffocating, and have 2 rounds to reach air before dropping to 0 hp.
Note that 3 minutes (or even 1 minute) is a ridiculous amount of time in the game (1 minute = 10 rounds of combat). People tend to be terrified of their character running out of air … the first time they get into underwater combat. (It’s still a real threat, but not a close one.)
Workarounds
Various races can either breathe underwater, or (such as Lizardfolk and Tortles) can hold their breath for longer, as defined in their stat blocks.
Wild Shape and Polymorph can change folk into creatures that can swim or breathe in water.
Anything that magically gives you a Swimming speed will be useful in the above.
Water Breathing is a spell that literally lets you breathe underwater for 8 hours. It’s a 3rd level for Druids, Rangers, Sorcerers, and Wizards, can affect up to ten people, doesn’t require concentration, and can be done as a ritual. Alternately, Water Walk (same parameters) lets you walk on water and not worry about having to breathe it.
Wait, that’s it?
But aren’t there some classic tropes that these rule ignore?
Yes.
“A Drowning Viking, possibly Olav Trygvason (968-1000) of Norway at the Battle of Svold on 9th September 1000”
There’s no provision for heavy armor or a full backpack dragging you to the bottom, etc.; if you are strong enough to wear it, you are strong enough to swim in it (handwaves) … which is good, because it takes 5 minutes to remove heavy armor.
There are no provisions for using up breath faster if you are slowly flailing about with your greatsword instead sitting still and reserving oxygen.
Again, largely this is because D&D is a crappy physics (and biology) simulator, and intentionally so. The game design thought seems to be “Does this complication take away from the fun? Does it mean extra calculations, rolls, and otherwise bogging-down of the game? Then simplify or eliminate it.”
(Note to self: if I ever decide this is too simplified, this site has some interesting homebrewed additions.)
This is actually an interesting and (at my table) unused game mechanic: dealing with skill checks as a group, rather than as individuals. It not only can save time, but it can get around some of the problematic aspects of Skill checks.
Group Skill Checks
The rock chimney needs to be ascended — not by an individual, but by the whole party.
The goblin encampment needs to be snuck past — not just by the rogue, but by that jingling oaf of a fighter, too.
The suspicious guard is eyeballing everyone who passes — and the whole party has cultist robes, hoping they can slip by.
5e includes a method for groups, as a whole, to make an Ability or Skill check. As laid out in PHB 175:
To make a group Ability Check, everyone in the group makes the Ability Check. If at least half the group succeeds, the whole group succeeds. Otherwise, the group fails.
The idea here is that more experienced or skillful players are helping the less experienced or skillful ones to succeed.
“Put your feet right where I put mine … there you go, that’s it, great!”
“Watch out for that stick there — don’t step in it because it will snap and make a loud nose and ruin our chance to sneak by.”
“I wish you peace, diligent guardian of the temple, as do all my friends, riiiiiight?”
Group checks are useful where all the characters are
(a) doing the same thing, against
(b) a challenge with a single DC value, and will
(c) succeed or fail as a group.
Some examples:
Does the group get through a swamp without running into quicksand or a similar hazard? Roll as a group on Wisdom (Survival) vs a DC.
Does the group sneak by the observation post without being heard? Roll as a group on Dexterity (Stealth) vs a standard passive Perception value.
This mechanic works less well when there are multiple values in the challenge/opposition, and where an individual can potentially shine.
Their applicability, though, is limited. The mechanism could be used, in theory, for spotting traps, for example, but it makes a lot more sense that the rogue is looking for traps and that their Perception is what makes or breaks the deal, rather than have them succeed personally, but then have the group fail as a whole because presumably a bunch of people did poorly and distracted the rogue from a trap they should have found.
Helping someone else
This is related, but similar. Note that someone can do a Help action in combat to give a person making the Skill or Ability Check do so with Advantage (if the helper can explain how it is they are helping, of course). That’s how this all functions tactically in a battle.
The Ranger’s background gives her a lockpicking ability to Help with — not as good as the Rogue’s, who’s frantically working with his tools against the lock, while the other party members fend off the guards, but good enough to offer useful advice, hand the correct next pick to the Rogue, and overall give the Rogue an Advantage in trying to get the door open.
In theory, it works that way for other activities. So, under the rules for Working Together:
Sometimes two or more characters team up to attempt a task. The character who’s leading the effort—or the one with the highest Ability Modifier—can make an Ability Check with Advantage, reflecting the help provided by the other characters. In combat, this requires the Help action (see chapter 9).
A character can only provide help if the task is one that he or she could attempt alone. For example, trying to open a lock requires proficiency with thieves’ tools, so a character who lacks that proficiency can’t help another character in that task.
Moreover, a character can help only when two or more individuals working together would actually be productive. Some tasks, such as threading a needle, are no easier with help.
So, for example, when searching the room for something, a pair is actually better off with the best-Perception person doing the search, and someone else assisting them (for Advantage) than both people doing the search roll (because rolling with the highest Skill twice gives you a better chance than rolling once with a high Skill and once with a lower one).
Skills and Abilities … 5e has a system that interestingly modular, providing for a lot of flexibility, and occasional confusion.
5e has also given terminology a big stir, so sometimes folk (especially those coming from earlier editions, homebrews, or variant systems) get a little mixed up as to what’s being referred to as what. So forgive me if I digress a bit first …
Everything starts with Abilities
Abilities from a character sheet
Abilities are your five primary statistics (and some people still refer to them as your stats):
STRength, measuring physical power
DEXterity, measuring agility
CONstitution, measuring endurance
INTelligence, measuring reasoning and memory
WISdom, measuring perception and insight
CHArisma, measuring force of personality
Everything you as a character can do stems from or is primarily influenced by these stats. (And, just to start there, I remember back in the good old days when they were a bit more nonsensically ordered STR, INIT, WIS, DEX, CON, and CHA — so D&D has shown a bit of rational evolution there.
Your level as a Player Character in each of these Abilities is from 3-20, though, depending on how you build them at character creation, it’s rare you’ll start off above 18.
In many ways, the actual Ability Score is meaningless; it’s the resulting Modifier that ultimately impacts the game mechanics, as modifying D20 die rolls associated with that Ability. Indeed, many character sheets emphasize the Modifier vs the Score (which begs the issue of why, aside from legacy / nostalgia reasons, we still need the Ability Score itself any more … but that’s a change for the next edition).
You could (and some systems can) run quite neatly with just these Abilities dividing up all your capability into six buckets. But since the golden days of D&D, people have wanted a bit more.
Skills!
Skills from a Character Sheet
Those Abilities are a bit broad for the level of tactical and adventuring crunchiness that D&D players consider the sweet spot. So long ago, lists of skills were developed that people could specialize in through some mechanic, influenced primarily by the Ability they are associated with.
So, for example, Sleight of Hand is a very different skill than, say, Acrobatics. Both are clearly associated with the Dexterity (“measuring agility”), but you can easily think of someone who would be mediocre at one but dazzling in the other.
The modifier on the D20 roll for any given skill starts with the modifier for the Ability it’s associated with. You can also have special Proficiency in a given skill (usually from your Class, or from a Feat, or even from a Race), which means you add your Proficiency Bonus in.
So with the character in question, when they make an Acrobatics roll, they roll a D20, add in their DEXterity Ability Modify (+1), and then (because it’s checked off as a Proficiency), their Proficiency Bonus (+2) — 1d20+3.
Mixing and Matching Abilities and Skills
You will almost never see a Skill written in official material like this:
Athletics
Instead, it will be written as
Strength (Athletics)
But why? Doesn’t Athletics imply Strength?
Not necessarily.
There are a couple of ways of looking at this. You are actually always rolling these checks on an Ability — this is a STRength check, this is a CONstitution check, this is an INTelligence check, etc. The Skills listed are only to help you narrow down which Ability you are rolling (“Oh, I’m trying Sleight of Hand, so this is going to be a DEX-based roll) or to indicate a specific proficiency in the technical aspects of what is essentially a Sub-ability, a Skill.
Okay, well, clearly, Athletics is going to be the technical Skill set. But what the Ability is is what actually matters. This isn’t a race across the pool where STRength is the deciding factor. This is going to be all about endurance … so you’re going to be using CONstitution as the active Ability.
So, yes, you will be rolling Constitution (Athletics).
To use the character sheet bits above, you’ll make a roll of 1d20 + 3 (CON modifier) + 2 (Proficiency Bonus for Athletics), for a 1d20 + 5.
(Yes, yes, the character in question has the same STRength and CONstitution, which means the die roll is the same in this one particular case, but I hope you see the point.)
So, yeah, sure, STRength normally powers Athletics, and WISdom makes sense with Perception … but it doesn’t have to be that way. The rules treat those as the default. If you can make a cogent argument for it to the DM, you can use any ability to power a skill, such that the skill roll becomes:
(If you are using a VTT like Roll20, you’ll have to calculate this manually, but it’s pretty easy.)
This is both good story-tellilng — using the appropriate Ability for a given test — but it’s also something the the Players can use to their advantage (leaning into their stronger Abilities) or the DM can use to mix things up a bit.
The modern equivalent
As another example, from the PHB, you usually use CHArisma as the basis for your Intimidation rolls — bringing your force of personality to play in beating down their resistance. But if you’re some savagely-strong looking barbarian, maybe you just show your target how you can snap them in half as easily as this thick log waiting to go into the fireplace, with a Strength (Intimidation) roll.
Your intent here is still to intimidate, but rather through word and body language (CHArisma), you’re using force of sinew (STRength). But Intimidation as a skill has its own goals and techniques; if you have proficiency in them, you should be able to use them different ways.
Indeed, I can easily imagine other types of intimidation —
Intelligence (Intimidation): showing off your vast knowledge to cow a sage
Constitution (Intimidation): demonstrating how nonchalant you are standing in a bed of coals to shake your torturers
Dexterity (Intimidation): plucking flies out of the air to daunt some fellow thieves.
Yes, you could argue in that last case what you are really doing is Dexterity (Sleight of Hand) — but it’s not, because your purpose in the scene is not actually to catch flies, but to completely unnerve the person you are engaged with, to break their will and intent: thus Intimidation.
This Reddit thread has some other fun examples. If you’ve got a high CONstitution, you could argue for using it with a variety of non-CON-associated Skills:
Constitution (Deception): You jump into near-freezing water, but want to convince the others to Come on in,it’s fine, no, no, not cold at all, do you see me shivering?
Constitution (Sleight of Hand): You have the duke’s large signet ring hidden in your mouth, but the guards are checking everyone. Can you swallow it without anyone noticing?
Constitution (Animal Handling): Wrangling … that damned … cat … who is very liberal … with use of … teeth and claws …
Not all combinations are easy to think of examples for (Strength (History) … maybe something about how you were the only person back at the monastery strong enough to get Abbot Shang’s Book of Exceedingly Great Dimensions down from the shelf to study from it). But figuring out a way to lean a higher Ability into a Skill roll can give you a real boost … if you can talk the DM into it.
Rolling skills to get something done can be a tense moment. The whole campaign might depend on how well you can sneak, or spot someone sneaking, or open that lock, or disarm that trap.
And, since a D20 provides a linear distribution of results, it’s quite possible to fail that roll.
Then what?
How to Succeed at Skill Rolls while Trying A Whole Bunch
So, what is a Skill (Ability) Check? Well, per PHB 174:
To make an Ability Check, roll a d20 and add the relevant Ability modifier. As with other d20 rolls, apply bonuses and penalties, and compare the total to the DC. If the total equals or exceeds the DC, the ability check is a success — the creature overcomes the challenge at hand. Otherwise, it’s a failure, which means the character or monster makes no progress toward the objective or makes progress combined with a setback determined by the GM..
What happens when you fail a Skill / Ability roll? Can you try again? How many times?
Can you try, try again?
Interestingly enough, there’s no easy answer there. I’ve read DMs assert that they only let a single roll happen; if you fail, that shows it’s just not doable (by you, at least). I’ve read others say you can only retry if the circumstances or your approach explicitly changes.
(I’ve also seen guidance that rolls should only be asked for if the results of failure are significant or interesting. So there’s that, too.)
To my mind, a lot depends on what it is you are trying to do (duh). As much as D&D tries to make all skills identical in their structure and use, they really aren’t. Some skills, in their application or in the circumstances at hand, lend themselves more or less to retries.
“I search the room.” Okay, you blew your Perception roll. Can you search it again, search it harder, search it in a way you didn’t before? Sure. Tell me what you’re doing differently.
“I try to convince the guard to let us pass.” Okay, you blew your Persuasion roll. Can you try again? Well, certainly not the same way or with the same line of argument. I mean, if she didn’t believe the Captain sent you when you said it once, she’s not going to believe it a second time.
“I try to remember my History to see if I know of the dread Egnarts.” If you fail, chances are you’re not going to succeed in “remembering” again, without explaining a very different approach.
In some cases, letting an attempt be retried is just fine. In other cases, retrying at a Disadvantage seems to make sense (“Oh, did I say the Captain? I meant the Duke, my uncle …”).
What does “failure” mean?
We tend to think of “failure” as “What I asked for didn’t happen.”
The lock didn’t pop open.
The guard wasn’t convinced.
The mule refuses to move.
But look at that definition of an Ability Check again, particularly on the “failure” part:
Otherwise, it’s a failure which means the character or monster makes no progress toward the objective …
Okay, that’s what we usually think of failure like.
… or makes progress combined with a setback determined by the DM.
Which is very modern “failing forward” game design for something like D&D, and, frankly, is something I never thought of for this system — and it’s something that makes sense, esp. if (a) the DM wants to move things along, and/or (b) you just barely missed your roll.
You hear a couple of tumblers in the lock move, but it doesn’t open; your next attempt will be at Advantage … but that will take more time.
You got the lock open … and the door opens wide, to reveal the room full of guards.
You got the lock open, but broke your favorite lockpick, putting you at Disadvantage in picking locks until you can get it replaced.
The guard grudgingly lets you pass, but sends a runner to check with the Captain, just in case.
The mule moves, but quite intentionally steps on your foot in doing so.
Those are all legitimate things for me as the DM to do (or you as the player to suggest).
Can’t I just “Take 10” or “Take 20”?
So those are D&D 3.5 rules, but 5.0 kinda-sorta has them. Kinda-sorta.
Taking 10 in 3.5 usually just meant “Act like I rolled a 10” so as to avoid the chance of a low roll (when a high roll wouldn’t really be needed).
This is essentially the equivalent of using a Passive Skill in 5e. Which is a little weird (“I’m searching the room … passively”).
When you have plenty of time (generally 2 minutes for a skill that can normally be checked in 1 round, one full-round action, or one standard action), you are faced with no threats or distractions, and the skill being attempted carries no penalties for failure, you can take 20. In other words, eventually you will get a 20 on 1d20 if you roll enough times. Instead of rolling 1d20 for the skill check, just calculate your result as if you had rolled a 20.
Taking 20 means you are trying until you get it right, and it assumes that you fail many times before succeeding. Taking 20 takes twenty times as long as making a single check would take.
Since taking 20 assumes that the character will fail many times before succeeding, if you did attempt to take 20 on a skill that carries penalties for failure, your character would automatically incur those penalties before he or she could complete the task. Common “take 20” skills include Escape Artist, Open Lock, and Search.
5e doesn’t have this … precisely. But on DMG 237, “Multiple Ability Checks,” there’s a “Take 20”-like mechanism:
Sometimes a character fails an ability check and wants to try again. In some cases, a character is free to do so; the only real cost is the time it takes. With enough attempts and enough time, a character should eventually succeed at the task. To speed things up, assume that a character spending ten times the normal amount of time needed to complete a task automatically succeeds at that task. However, no amount of repeating the check allows a character to turn an impossible task into a successful one.
So in cases where failure doesn’t incur a penalty (except burning time), you can spend ten times the normal amount of time (ask your DM for a SWAG) and just assume a success if the task is possible (which I read to mean, if rolling a 20 on the skill would allow it to succeed). This is a bit looser and more cinematic than 3.5’s rule, but there you go.
It does mean that, if the party is willing to take the time, the DM can dispense with Perception rolls in each room and just say, “After about an hour, you find the hidden compartment under the book case. And, no, that doesn’t count as a Short Rest.”
If we all remember the Golden Rule of D&D Rules — This Is Not A Physics Simulator — then the weirdities of how 5e runs “Size” will … be a little less weird.
Let’s Start with a Table!
Size
Space
Example
HD
Tiny
2.5 x 2.5 feet
(4/sq)
Imp, Sprite
d4
Small
5 x 5 feet
(1 sq)
Giant Rat, Goblin, Halfling, Gnome
d6
Medium
5 x 5 feet
(1 sq)
Orc, Werewolf, Human, Elf, Dwarf, Dragonborn
d8
Large
10 x 10 feet
(2×2 sq)
Hippogriff, Ogre
d10
Huge
15 x 15 feet
(3×3 sq)
Fire Giant, Treant
d12
Gargantuan
20 x 20 feet
(4×4 sq)
or larger
Kraken, Purple Worm
d20
So that shows all the size categories, the space they take up on a battle map grid, and some examples, as well as what, in general, their Hit Dice look like.
Most Player Characters are Medium in size — though some races drop down to Small, and a couple of outliers are Large.
How About Some Pictures?
D&D Size Comparison
Yes, that’s straight out of the book, but it is so pretty. I will take it down if Hasbro asks me to.
Size and Space
The space described in the table above is that personally controlled by the creature. A human is not actually 5×5 feet, but effectively occupies that space, and rules on passing into or through space apply to all squares so controlled.
Guys in a couple of five foot squares
You can pass through an enemy creature’s occupied space (ducking past them, under their legs, etc.) if you are 2+ sizes smaller than them. Note that it’s still considered Difficult terrain (double cost), and if you continue on past their reach they will get an Opportunity Attack. So Halflings can duck past an Ogre this way, while Humans could dodge around a Fire Giant’s legs.
Note also that some creatures (typically those larger than Medium) may have physical melee attack reach of more than the normal five feet.
Surrounded!
Spaces taken by creatures cannot overlap. That means, for example, if you as a Medium humanoid are surrounded by enemies, how many enemies that is depends on their size. You could be surrounded by eight Medium enemies, but only four Large enemies could surround you. Similarly while you and your Medium friends could surround a Medium Orc with only eight of you, that Large Ogre would need to be surrounded by twelve Medium opponents.
Line of Sight and Cover
Larger creatures are obviously bigger targets. Assuming you are playing on a square grid, then if you can draw an unobstructed straight line between
any corner/vertex of one creature’s space on the grid map and
any corner/vertex of another creature’s space,
then there is line of sight and each creature can potentially see each other.
In considering cover, pick any corner/vertex of the attacker’s space, and draw lines to the corners of any single square the target occupies.
Cover and obstructions
If 1-2 of those lines are obstructed by something, then the target has half-cover;
if 3 or more are obstructed but you still have line of sight, then the target has three-quarter cover.
(Obviously, a Huge target will have a lot more single squares hanging out there unprotected.)
(Yes, that’s another beautiful drawing from the official books.)
Grappling and Shoving
You only grapple something no more than 1 size larger than you. When grappling, your speed is halved unless the grappled creature is 2+ sizes smaller than you.
Thus, as a Medium Human, you could grapple an Ogre, but not a Treant. Similarly, an Ogre could grapple a Halfling and move off with them at full speed.
A creature can squeeze into a space one size category smaller. So a Large creature could squeeze through a 5 ft square opening or 5 ft wide corridor.
When doing so, it counts as Difficult terrain (double movement cost), and the squeezing-through creature has Disadvantage for attacks and Dex saving throws, and attackers have Advantage on them.
What Else Does Size Do?
Not a whole heck of a lot. In 3.5e, small creatures got an AC boost, larger creatures an AC deficit, but this no longer exists in 5e.
Size does have an impact on the Encumbrance load that can be carried, but I try to avoid Encumbrance rules.
This is another thing that can engender confusion until it gets spelled out plainly, especially since it’s about something that has changed over various D&D editions, varies with other D20-based games, and has been house-ruled for eons.
What happens when you roll a natural (that’s the face showing on the die) 20 on a d20? What happens when you roll a natural 1?
When is a die roll a different die roll?
There are, in 5e, three types of d20 rolls:
Attack rolls — rolls you make to successfully hit with an attack (against a given Armor Class (AC)).
Ability Checks — rolls you make to check against an ability or skill to see if you succeed in your attempt (against a given Difficulty Class (DC)).
Saving Throws — rolls you make to avoid or minimize the effect of a spell or other environmental hazard (against a given DC).
These are all done with a d20, but, despite that, each is treated independently in the rules.
For example, the Rogue’s Reliable Talent class ability (PHB 96) says “Whenever you make an ability check that lets you add your proficiency bonus, you can treat a d20 roll of 9 or lower as a 10.” That applies only to Ability Checks, not Saves or Attacks.
a naturally rolled20 is always a hit (and a critical hit, at that), regardless of modifiers or the target’s Armor Class.
a naturally rolled1 is always a miss, regardless of modifiers or the target’s Armor Class. (5e does not have a “fumble” rule.)
This auto-hit or auto-miss rule, though, does not apply to Saves or Ability Checks. For example, a natural 20 on a Saving Throw does not guarantee success. In fact, it just means that you have met or beat any DC of 20 or below. If the DC is 25, it doesn’t, Rules-As-Written, mean a thing other than you did not save.
That said …
Most DMs will do something to recognize a natural 20 (especially if it’s called to their attention), and sometimes a natural 1 as well, on a Save or Ability Check, even if the RAW doesn’t call for it.
This might be as simple as something narrated, calling out (without game effect) the natural beauty of the thing you did that you rolled a nat 20 on … or the gob-smacking ineptitude of the thing you did that you rolled a nat 1 on.
You dive for cover from the dragon’s breath, but mis-judge and fly through its center instead. You take [the standard] damage, but you can hear the dragon actually laughing at you.
Sometimes they may even given you a partial success for that nat 20.
You don’t manage a clean landing — but you’re on your feet, even if you’re going to be at half-speed next round.
or
Your valiant effort doesn’t succeed, but it came closer than you thought it would — take an Inspiration.
But don’t count on that, unless the DM is house-ruling something of that sort as a normal case.
There will be SPOILERS. If you are playing in a PotA game, please don’t read this. If you are DMing a PotA game, or are a DM who wants to see what the ride was like … read on!
GM Recap
Session 15 (Day 21)
A Map of Sacred Stone Monastery
The party took a Short Rest in the Kitchen, while evaluating Spell Scrolls you found, the Necklace of Hellenrae, sifting through more Marlos Urnrayle info, and testing the local liquor.
The party invaded the central temple of the monastery, fighting two Black Earth guards and Qarbo, the Black Earth priest.
The party took a Long Rest in (they presumed) Hellenrae‘s quarters, sussing out the additional magic items in their pockets (including Spell Scrolls you found).
They began their descent into the space under the monastery, down past well buckets to look into a well chamber with a handful of figures in it, one of them particularly large …
Meanwhile Aldrik came up with a quick costume switch …
Player Recap
Better take the bread out of the oven
After the fight in the kitchen, Moony spikes the doors, William jumps in a washtub, and people (short) rest and recover. The magic users take a look at the scrolls while the other check out the other loot [noted with class that can use it].
In the locked chest:
D/S: Earthbind
S: Maximilian’s Earthen Grasp
C: Speak with Dead
D: Transmute Rock
In the Scriptorium:
D/S: Dust Devil
D/S
Other swag:
Moony: The Necklace of Hellenrae: It is magical. It is … disturbing. It is a key. But it is incomplete.
Aldrik: Leather pouch: a scrap of parchment, folded and refolded. “forgiven if only” and “please come home”
Nala: The papers/scroll about Marlos Urnrayle: He is the self-described “Prophet of Earth” He was drawn to a place he calls “the Fane of the Eye” by powerful visions and promises of power. One of the things he found in the Fane was “Ironfang, the Holy Implement of Earth Power,” which he took as his own.
Aldrik/Nala: The booze from the distillery: Rough, not well distilled or flavored. Nala trusts Aldrik’s assessment and declines to try it.
Once rested, the group debate their next move. It is decided that Moony should sneak into the main temple room and determine the threat level. As the group stands in the entrance room, Moony steps forward and sees two guards and a person behind the altar. Entering in further, Moony does a double take as the rock priest at the altar looks a lot like Larrakh. Moony motions the rest of the party into the room.
After Moony sneak attack shoots the Earth Priest, Qarbo (surprising both groups) the fight ensues. The party moves into the room. Qarbo opens the attack from Team Evil with a large damaging effect against a cluster of heroes near the door. After that the fight goes downhill for the earth priest and his guards.
William finds a lever in the northwest wall. Aldrik and Faith determines that the temple was once dedicated to Moradin, the all-father Lawful Good god of the dwarves. Moony calls out that he is going to test the lever. The group scatters and the stairs down from the middle of the room turn into a slope. Pulling the lever back up, the stairs return. Moony removes the lever to disable the device. The party gathers the items from the alter and from Qarbo and head to Hellenrae’s room for a long rest.
Watch order
William & Nala
Moony
Theren & Aldrik
Faith
After (long) resting for 8 hours, undisturbed, they decide to take on the basement. It is night and the monastery is dark. Using the stairs that lead down to the well, they head underground. It’s dark, so they light up in their various ways. Moony opens the door …
Game Notes
A Key Innovation
As mentioned previously, one of the criticisms of The Sandbox That Is PotA is that it is waaaaay too easy for people to wander from their nice, safe, 4th level shenanigans into a 12th level hellhole — which they may not realize until it is too late.
In theory, players will spot such things and back out, but I didn’t trust myself not to inadvertently bring down a TPK.
So I stole and expanded on the “keys” idea from Sly Flourish. Basically, each Keep has a passage down to Tyar-Besil and that element’s “Temple” (portion of the city). Since we know the cults are all in a Cold War with each other, they wouldn’t want their opposition to have an easy back door (even if the security at the Temple level between the cults, let alone the joint stewardship of the Fane, make this slightly less plausible — but, then, I hadn’t read that far in full detail yet). At any rate, each passage from a Keep to its Temple has a mystical mojo barrier, passable only in the willing presence of someone who has sold their soul to their elemental Prince (figuratively, or perhaps literally, speaking). Anyone else — from another cult, or just a wandering adventurer, is locked out …
Except that each of the keep holders has a portion of a “Fifth Key,” crafted by the fiends who set this all up. These look like their elemental symbol from the symbol of Elemental Evil (something which the party had only glimpsed in the Necromancer’s lair, and not yet had an opportunity to figure out). Join the four pieces, and the resulting magical item could let someone open up all the mystical barriers. A nifty weapon for any of the Keep Lieutenants. A nice way to keep the party out of trouble and, eventually, wanting to hit up all four keeps.
The Necklace of Hellenrae
I cobbled together some imagery for the necklaces to serve as a handout. Because named items should have handouts. So we started with the “Necklace of Hellenrae” and went from there, adding some weird “attunement” effects that gave the indication that it was definitely a key to … something … but incomplete.
(I made it a mystical mojo barrier rather than an Iron Door because any barrier that could conceivably be penetrated will have breach attempts made on it for hours by my players.)
The Elemental Evil symbols
The overall effect image is trying to create a metal framework around the symbol as it appears in the full-out Elemental Evil thingummy that they briefly glimpsed in Oreioth’s stronghold. I was particularly pleased with threading it around a necklace image.
I’m the Map!
So along with game logs, and now that we were in dungeon territory, I started crafting maps for the players to review between sessions or even during the session (rather than zooming out in Roll20), stored in the public journal entry for “Sacred Stone Monastery.” Unexplored areas were blacked out. E.g.,
Sacred Stone Monastery (as of end of session 14)
For this session, I included it in the episode recap.
In these early days, I filled in the names of some of the areas (“Crispy Monks” being where they had popped the door and Fireballed the barracks). But the idea was to make up for the players not actually being there and having a sense of what the place looked like (and what areas were as yet unexplored). By the end of this episode, then, the two main areas left (on the ground floor) were a back room of Renwick’s (which nobody was interested in) and the main temple.
A lot of decision-making was done going over those maps, so it was worth the time (after each session) it took me to craft them.
Around this time, I think, I began having two journal entries in Roll20 for every dungeon (keep, temple, etc.): the main one that came with the game (which I renamed, e.g., “Sacred Stone Monastery (GM)”), holding all the room contents and dungeon notes (as updated and modified by me), and a new public one for what the party knew about the place, what they had discovered, links to people they and met and (often) killed, etc. (named, e.g., “Sacred Stone Monastery”).
The Campaign Logo
So for various idiosyncratic reasons, I wasn’t thrilled by either the name “Princes of the Apocalypse” nor with cover art of Aerisi. It just didn’t do it for me.
So, for hopefully obvious reasons, I redubbed the campaign “Elementary,” and went with something intentionally cute.
It was going to be obvious quickly that elemental powers were involved in the campaign, so coming up with something preemptively cute felt like a fun move.
As time passed, and more elemental symbols were resolved, I did a bit of modification …
Elementals, with symbols
That made it a bit less cute.
I had this on the campaign landing page, and, by the end of the game, I had put (a la the meme), “Is this a material plane?” next to the butterfly.
Bits and Bobs
Although Qarbo was, I believe, pretty much the same level bad guy as Larrakh, the fact that the players were now 4th level rather than 2nd made the battle in the temple pretty anticlimactic, although lengthy enough to take up much of the session.
Of course, Qarbo isn’t actually the Keep holder. That would be Hellenrae … whom the party had dispatched previously, because they snuck in through the back door. Sigh.
While the party was murderhoboing, kinda-sorta, I wanted to emphasize that there were implications of same — not just Renwick registering a mild (if pointed) complaint about the noise, but the idea that not every cultist was a slavering mad dog hell-bent on destroying the world for their elemental master. Thus the leather pouch that one of the monks carried, with a fragment of a letter they had gotten from their family — a scrap of parchment, folded and refolded. “forgiven if only” and “please come home.” And while he clearly hadn’t gone home … he’d kept the note, or that fragment of it. Yeah, that’s the dude you just killed before he could get out of bed — sweet dreams!
It was around this time that I realized the party was beginning to pick up magic stuff they needed to keep track of for purposes of investigation and attunement . So I created a Roll20 Journal Entry called Spell Scrolls you found, which later turned into Magic Stuff you found that I could pull up or point people to when Short or Long Rests occurred (with the notes about what each of the items did hidden in the GM section).
The party had to figure out a new watch order, now that they had (and, mostly, trusted) Aldrik, the 6th member. I eventually realized that both Marching Order and Watch Order were perfect for a Roll20 Journal Entry that anyone (including the DM) could reference.
The logical path forward / downward for the party was the large ramp opened up in the temple. So, of course, the party took the stairwell by the kitchen.
There will be SPOILERS. If you are playing in a PotA game, please don’t read this. If you are DMing a PotA game, or are a DM who wants to see what the ride was like … read on!
GM Recap
Session 14 (Day 21)
After a brief chat with Renwick the Lich, the team looted the bodies, hid the bodies, then briefly holed up in the nearby bedroom (though not before lifting some booze bottles from the distillery).
A disguised (and invisible!) Moony scouted out the narrow internal courtyard, and determined that there was at least one gargoyle there with very good hearing.
The team raided the Scriptorium, killing the monks there and those who came in from the foyer. They also took out a room of sleeping monks, found a chest full of nice stuff in another room, and dealt with a room full of Duergar. They also killed a bunch of cooks in the kitchen, which is where they decided to hole up for a short rest and debate over whether they are murder hoboes.
Things of interest picked up included:
Spell Scrolls you found in the Scriptorium and the locked chest
Some other papers from the Scriptorium talking about a Marlos Urnrayle (“The Prophet of the Earth”)
Some bottles of booze from the Distillery
A small leather pouch one of the monks had.
The mysterious Necklace of Hellenrae.
Player Recap
A looting we will go … “but they were all bad”
Helenrae has a cord with some keys around her neck and a steel chain with a dark Earth symbol. Most of the monks did not have anything of interest. One has a pouch at his waist. Moony also grabs a mask and a monk’s robe.
Renwick comes through a door to investigate. He asks if the group is done causing a ruckus. He spies the body and Hellenrae and comments that her death will complicate his life. He also muses that it probably couldn’t be helped.
Pile the dead in the dojo and retreat to the room with the treasure chest. The keys do not fit the room or chest. Theren turns Moony invisible and he scouts ahead, discovering gargoyle(s?) in an open courtyard.
The groups first stop is the library with four monks. An invisible Moony back-stabs the first unsuspecting Black Earth monk. The monks are taken by surprise and go down quickly, as does the two additional monks in the adjoining foyer.
The group returns to the library to search the scrolls. Most are about Marlos Urnrayle the Prophet of Earth. Faith finds a number of scrolls on Marlos Urnrayle that the monks were copying. She also grabbed a scroll that mentions Ogrémoch. Theren finds some magical scrolls off to one side. There are also some large tomes that are probably valuable. The group grabs 15 of them and puts them in their packs.
Next up a room, full of uncomfortable straw bunks with monks sleeping – On Fire
A locked room is next to the monks’ barracks. The lock opens to Moony’s delicate touch. There are six more comfortable bunks. Three are made up with sheets and pillows. Most of the trunks are unlocked. The occupied beds have miscellaneous personal items. One is locked. It contains gold gems and fine priestly vestments.
Down at the corner of the hall. a door opens into the barracks of a group of armed dwarves. The room is dim and very hot. There are blankets over the windows. Faith steps in and asks if the Dwarves are here against their will. A dwarf replies “No one can keep us if we didn’t want it” Faith casts a Thunderwave, damaging the four caught in the blast and pushing several dwarves back. She pulls back and Aldrik rushes in calling out Dwarvish insults. Two swings with the Devilwood Grandstaff and the first Duergar goes down. The rest of the party moves into the room and joins the fray. Theren snipes from outside the door. The Duergars in the back of the room one by one grow to large size. Their armor increases with them. But when they die they resume their original size. Aldrik decided that he can alter the scale armor enough to not be noticeably Duergar.
From the Duergar barracks the group moves onto the refectory. It is a large room with several tables. Several doors lead out of the rectory. Moony chooses the door that leads to the kitchen. Moony enters in his monk robes and mask the dwarves in the room barely give him a second glance. Aldrik walks in and the dwarf at the stove does a double take and finally demands “What are you doing here?” Aldrik doesn’t have a witty come-back, so Moony attacks. The cooks don’t have much of a chance against the professional adventurers. When the dust settles and the fires go out, the group tosses the dead bodies out the back door. The other door from the kitchen leads to the bathhouse/laundry.
The session ends there with the party taking a short rest.
Game Notes
Welcome the Jungle
So Sacred Stone Monastery was really the first “dungeon” the party had gone through, at least since Red Larch. As such, there was much reestablishment of how the party functioned in such an environment, with Moony the Tabaxi Rogue taking point most of the time.
Once again, the party proved schizophrenic, going from “We need to be careful, quiet, and not approach every encounter as a bloodfest” to “Murderhobos, Assemble!” In fairly quick order, they cleared most of the entire ground floor — though, after Renwick ghostily chided them, they took extra care to not let too much noise carry over to his side of the monastery.
Oh, about that Lich …
Renwick
On an inquiry about liches from a player noting that (a) liches were like Level 15 back in the olden editions, wielding Finger of Death, and (b) they might be someone famous we would know about.:
It is not metagaming that you folk would know that liches are a thing of legend (or at least lots of fairy tales that usually end with either “And then he feasted on their souls for ever” or “and the entire kingdom breathed a sigh of relief, and built statues to the heroes so that their brave sacrifice would never be forgotten”). They are wizards of very high level who have cheated death, keeping their souls locked away someplace safe and separate. As such, they may have had renown in some circles, though not necessarily any that folk here would know, esp. if we’re possibly talking centuries ago or more.
At any rate, they are usually considered pretty tough characters, and are generally considered evil (because that’s kind of how necromancy rolls). I would be happy to answer more on some Arcana or History rolls.
Which is not to say that there isn’t some grand, epic thing that couldn’t happen, or that Faith isn’t completely legit in wanting to smite this fell creature, or that you don’t have a Scroll of Lich Annihilation in Theren’s bag, unread. But it might be a worthwhile topic of conversation to have whilst you’re taking a (short?) rest in the kitchen.
I didn’t really want them to fight Renwick (seriously), but I was happy to let them worry about fighting Renwick.
Bits and Bobs
Aldrik was remembering only bare glimpses of any of this. Which was disturbing. I was still toying around with who or what Aldrik really was.
You would think that Invisibility and the Rogue would be a natural match, but this is one of the few times I can ever think that someone used it on him. In part it was because, in this scene, the actual gargoyle(s) in the courtyard heard him (everyone gets a bad stealth roll now and again) and, I think, tainted the whole idea.
Black Earth token
The party had already encountered the Black Earth symbol, back with Larrakh and his pet cult in Red Larch. I kept things faithfully recorded in journal entries which some players used to start piecing things together (which always warms the cockles of a DM’s heart).
Though the party very rarely tried to sneak or bluff their way along, Moony the Tabaxi Rogue always made a point of grabbing cultist gear — and did, occasionally, use them (though, as a Tabaxi, it was tough for him to “blend in”). That said, it worked this time.
Speaking of which, it took a bit of nudging to get the players to actually look at the contents of the scriptorium — which I wanted because there was tonne of lore and backstory and discussions about Marlos Urnrayle, and I wanted that foundation laid as they went along, since it’s kind of critical to understanding about the prophets and all that.
(It also gave me a chance, through some writings, to RP the fabulous Marlos Urnrayle, in a way that would never come up later in the game.)
Duergar
The Duergar were interesting. I’d never heard of them before, and I didn’t read up on them until way too close to encountering them, and their biggest advantage — being able to go from Dwarf-size to Large — really didn’t work well in their cramped little quarters.
It did give Aldrik some RP time, though, given the animosity between their races. And, as I recall, he spent a while agonizing over taking armor and weapons from them, so that he wasn’t wandering around with a loincloth and club (Barbarian or not).
Camping in the kitchen was slightly dodgy, because while they had systematically killed almost everyone in the monastery, that didn’t count whomever was in the main temple, or anyone downstairs who might come up. Fortunately, the DM didn’t want to deal with those implications or more piecemeal out-of-context battle, so they got away with it. This time.
A home-made game aid for Roll20 that makes life (for me, at least) a lot easier.
For my Princes of the Apocalypse game (which we ran on Roll20 with a standard 5-foot grid), I built some Roll20 AoE templates for spells, to make it easier to see and use the AoE and to provide a longer lasting way to show a still-active area spell.
So why is this needed?
There are ways to show the area of a spell. At a minimum, you can draw something on the screen — but that gets messy and not always easily movable. It’s also hard to draw some shapes, like cones.
Also, even if you draw something with the circle tool, you have two problems — precisely knowing the center point to anchor it on, and, more importantly, clarity on what squares are affected by the spell or not. Yes, you can interpolate (“I think that’s less than half the square”), but that’s just argument fodder.
Roll20 and various adjuncts to it provide area tools for AoEs (Roll20’s native tools have improved dramatically of late), but they still have a couple of problems. First, again, they are actual geometric figures (e.g., circles), so interpolation is still needed. Second, they are non-persistent — you can set them to Linger, but a player can only have one up at a time (I’m not sure if two players can have theirs up simultaneously); you can maybe eke by for that initial Fireball,but if you have a Spike Growth that stays up for a long time, you’re back to drawing a circle on the map.
What I wanted was a way that players could express a proper spell area (cones, squares, circles, even rectangles) in full squares, that they could move as needed for placement, and that would let me (as the DM) resolve the effects on those within the area, whatever the shape, and that could be left on the map for non-instant duration spells.
The answer: AoE templates.
Now coming to a marketplace near you
You can buy spell templates in the Roll20 marketplace. In fact, I did.
Unfortunately, the ones I bought turned out to be one or more of:
Obtrusive (covering up too much of the underlying terrain).
Ugly (a judgment call on my part, to be sure)
Wrong (there are different ways of calculating a 15-foot or 20-foot radius circle on a grid, partly based on whether you are centering on a square middle or on a square corner. Who knew?) (And D&D 5e renders cones differently from other editions or systems.
I wanted something that would be:
Largely transparent — clear enough to be visible, but not blocking the map people were on.
Reasonably attractive
Correct, based on my reading of how (especially) cones and circles/spheres work, including anchoring on a grid vertex (corner), not (except in rare, specified occurrences) on the centers of grid squares.
So, after a couple of failed tries, I decided to roll my own.
Rolling my own
I used a drawing program I have to basically build up a sample AoE as a drawing, trimmed to the edges, with transparency on anything outside of the borders. There would be a grid within the AoE, with solid borders along the grid, and the squares inside tinted but mostly transparent, with a slightly thicker border around the edges to make its boundary clear. I sized it to fit a 70 pixel cell grid.
For a given shape (a 20-foot radius circle, for example), I usually started with something gray. I could then use the color select / color dump functions to remake it into different colors based on the type of spell — orange for a Fireball, green for a Spike Growth, etc.
Once I had a drawing how I wanted it, I uploaded it to my Art Library in Roll20. Then I created an NPC character named, for example, “Fireball (20r)”. I assigned the drawing to it as its image and as its token.
I dragged out a token, sized it to the grid properly, made it into a drawing, and then reassigned that as the token. Lastly, I assigned that character to be seen and controlled by the mage who could throw fireballs.
20-foot radius orange circle
Now when that mage wants to throw a fireball, they can see in an “AoE” folder in their Journal “Fireball (20r)”. They can then drag that out onto the map, move it to where they want their fireball to off, and say, “Hey, DM, your orcs are on fire.” I can easily see the orcs in question, push the fireball token to the “bottom” of the token layer (something which Roll20 does not allow players to do, for some reason) so that I can click on each of those orcs, and start rolling saves …
And, once the excitement is over, I or the mage can easily delete the AoE. Or, if it were a more persistent spell, leave it there for people to see.
Embellishments and Edge Cases
Moonbeam (5 foot radius) AoE token
For some spells, I felt the need to decorate. So, for example, my Moonbeam template has a little Crescent moon in it. And, yes, I did it as a circle, rather than filling up the squares, largely because it’s a small template, and there’s no question which four squares are encompassed by it.
Similarly, for the Dust Devil’s radius of effect, I included a little Dust Devil icon in the center.
Dust Devil (10ft radius) AoE token
The biggest hassle are cones, both because of 5e’s rules, and because the vary in shape depending on the direction they are cast. Which left me, for example, with these two templates for a 15 foot cone.
Diagonal 30-foot coneOrthogonal 30-foot cone
Yes, this is all about the confusion of trying to fit a cone cross-section onto a square grid.
Both of these can be rotated, by the player or DM, in increments of 90 degrees and still line up
The orthogonal one includes a bunch of question marks because of 5e’s cone rules. The basic rule there is that the cone is as wide at a given point as it is long. That means at ten feet away, it’s ten feet wide, etc. But you have to then ask “is that ten feet leaning to the left or to the right?” because, for symmetry, at ten feet away orthogonally, it’s actually a potential range across fifteen feet. So for the diagonals, the player has to say “This cone includes the questionable squares on the left, not on the right” or vice-versa. The alternative is to have two orthogonal templates, and that would be kinda crazy.
The diagonal one doesn’t suffer from that, though it does dredge up the concerns about how diagonals are counted distance-wise on a grid in D&D. In 5e, the basic rule is that a diagonal is as long as an orthogonal — vertical or horizontal — distance, which is nonsense, but quite easy to work with, and the rule we use at my table. Other folk use the older 3.x rule (given as an option in the DMG) that the first diagonal is five feet, the second is ten feet, then five, then ten; under that rule, my diagonal template would need to be changed.
Lastly, cones don’t need to be shot as a straight orthogonal or diagonal — they can be further canted. Fine, whatevs. Since I don’t want to force the players to pick from dozens of templates, they can just rotate one of these partially and we’ll interpolate. The “it’s as wide as it is long” rule makes that a bit easier.
In conclusion
Anyway, this works for my virtual table, and it’s pretty easily extensible as people level up and get new AoE spells of different shades and shapes.
I’ve made a bunch of the ones I crafted early days available here, for you to copy, recolor, and have fun with. Some of them are a bit rough, but that’s what you get for free, and, honestly, the roughness is very rarely visible one the Roll20 desktop.
It’s not always possible (or best idea) to just attack-attack-attack. Sometimes you want to … take some time, to seize the right moment, to make sure you understand the situation and can best act on it.
That’s what the Ready Action is for, probably one of the most confusing actions for new (or new, veteran) players.
So, what is the Ready action?
Part of the confusion here is that previous D&D versions have had the concept of “holding” or (4e) “delaying” a turn (“Go ahead and skip over me on Initiative for the round, I’m going to just hold on until I more clearly see what is happening and then act accordingly”). 5e reframes and reduces that concept to Readying an Action. It’s much more constrained as (a) it requires defining a trigger-response pairing, and (b) if the trigger doesn’t happen, your Action for that turn is lost.
Sometimes you want to get the jump on a foe or wait for a particular circumstance before you act. To do so, you can take the Ready Action on your turn, which lets you act using your Reaction before the start of your next turn.
So an important couple of things here. First you are waiting for a particular circumstance, and second, you are not only using your turn’s action for Ready, but it will depend on you having your Reaction left in order to use it. And if the circumstance doesn’t occur … you’ve essentially “wasted” your actions for the turn. (Yes, “they also serve who stand and wait,” but it’s still kind of disappointing.)
A different way of looking at a Readied Action is that it’s a called Reaction to a specific circumstance (vs a canned Reaction such as an Opportunity Attack or a spell that can be cast as a Reaction). You don’t so much declare an Action as declare a Reaction you are going to take before your next turn. (I wonder if it would be a bit less confusing if they called it “Ready Reaction” rather than “Ready Action”.)
First, you decide what perceivable circumstance will trigger your Reaction. Then, you choose the Action you will take in response to that trigger, or you choose to move up to your speed in response to it. Examples include “If the cultist steps on the trapdoor, I’ll pull the lever that opens it,” and “If the goblin steps to me, I move away.”
So the trigger has to be a perceivable circumstance. You can’t Ready an Action in response to something you are unaware of.
(Can you make some sort of Perception / Investigation / Insight check as part of that? Good question. The answer is no as an Active check, because that’s an Action (the Search Action, to be specific); the DM could let you do a Passive check, because that’s automatic. But, then, that whole Active/Passive check thing gets complicated, especially when combined with Hidden stuff.)
The Reaction to that perceivable circumstance is then to either take a single Action (if you are a high enough level fighter to have multiple Attack Actions, you can still take only one), or you can move.
(Note: don’t wait until the goblin steps up to you to move, or else they will get an Opportunity Attack on you; wait until the step within ten feet of you.)
When the trigger occurs, you can either take your Reaction right after the trigger finishes or ignore the trigger. Remember that you can take only one Reaction per round.
A Readied Action is binary: when the trigger occurs you must decide to take that Reaction right then, or decide to ignore it and the Readied Action goes away (though it doesn’t count as having lost your Reaction for purposes of other types of Reactions).
If you say, “If a goblin steps out of cover over there, I will throw my javelin,” then once the goblin charges out of cover, you can’t wait until it gets to as closer range to shoot: you have to take the shot right then and there.
When you Ready a Spell, you cast it as normal but hold its energy, which you release with your reaction when the trigger occurs.
To be Readied, a spell must have a casting time of 1 action, and holding onto the spell’s magic requires Concentration. If your Concentration is broken, the spell dissipates without taking effect.
For example, if you are Concentrating on the Web spell and Ready Magic Missile, your Web spell ends, and if you take damage before you release Magic Missile with your reaction, your concentration might be broken.
This is also important; a Readied spell burns thespell, whether or not the Reaction is triggered or you choose to let it be triggered. For this reason, a lot of magic-users only Ready cantrips, since nothing is “lost” if it isn’t used.
It only allows Movement or an Action (not a Bonus Action, as Bonus Actions only occur on your turn).
That said, you can Move and take a Bonus Action and still take a Ready action, all on your turn. So it doesn’t mean you are completely paralyzed.
You only get one Reaction between turns. If you make an Opportunity Attack, or any other Reaction (like Counterspell) before your Readied Action triggers, you lose your Readied Action (and vice-versa). On the other hand, if you managed to use your Readied Action, you cannot take another Reaction.
Readied spells actually burn the spell slot (if any) upon Readying, and require Concentration to hold onto until the trigger occurs (if it ever does), interrupting any other Concentrated-upon spells and possibly being lost if you fail a required Concentration check before it’s triggered.
What conditions can you Ready for?
To my mind, the “perceivable circumstances” for the Readied action require a something you can focus on — a place, a person, a proximity.
Examples that seem to me to be legit Readied (Re)actions
(beyond the ones mentioned in the actual Ready text above):
If an opponent steps into the doorway, I will Flamebolt them. [place]
When that archer steps back out from behind the tree to shoot me, I will shoot them. [place]
If an opponent steps next to me, I will hit them. [proximity]
Once the paladin engages an opponent, I will shoot their opponent. [person] [Rogues, this could allow a Sneak Attack, as that is allowed on any turn, not just yours.]
If an opponent steps onto the trap door, I will pull the lever. [place]
If an opponent gets within ten feet of me, I will run toward the door. [proximity]
Whichever of the two people I am standing next to first has someone step next them I will attack their attacker them. [person]
If Bob gets out of that cluster of bad guys, I’ll drop a Fireball there. [place]
If the guard pulls out her sword, I’ll stab her. [person]
Examples that seem to be to be too broad or complex or rule-bending to be an Readied action:
If an opponent steps next to me then I will Disengage and move toward the door. [You can act or you can move. Disengage is an action, and does not include actual movement]
If an Orc comes through the door, I will Flamebolt them. But if it’s an Orcish captain, I’ll Fireball them. [You can only prep one spell, and discernment as to Orcish rank is probably more complex than than you can take as a Reaction.]
When the Orcs arrive, If I am attacked I will Dodge, but if not, then I will Help my neighbor [You can’t plan more than one action or circumstance. Just Dodge instead.]
If an opponent gets within ten feet of me, I will Dash away. [Movement from a Ready is only up to your normal full movement, and is an alternative to taking an Action; Dash would be an Action, but it doesn’t actually move you, it just changes how far you can move.]
If people come out of one of the other three doors to the room, I shoot them. [Unless the doors are right next to each other, that’s too much to keep track of for a trigger; I tend to rule that focus of that sort is, most, over a 90 degree arc, about how broadly you can really see without moving your head.]
Remember that you are not obliged to follow through on a Readied action; you have enough Reaction time to either do the Readied action or to abort it (which, for a spell, means the slot has still been used up).
Spells
Also note that, for Readying a spell, that takes Concentration to maintain the readiness (you basically casting but holding the spell), so any Concentration spell you have running would drop when you do so. This is true:
Even if the spell you are casting doesn’t normally require Concentration — it’s the Readying and holding of it that requires the Concentration.
Even if you don’t eventually fire the spell — it’s the Readying that burns the spell and starts the Concentration.
There is an interesting extrapolation that since a Readied spell is actually cast on the player’s turn, not on the Ready-triggered release toward an enemy, then Counterspell would need to be cast as a Reaction on the casting, not the release. Which is really weird as it implies that the attacker knows you’ve cast (say) Fireball before it actually goes off, and is especially pernicious with an attack of Readying / casting a spell outside of Counterspell range, then running close enough to be able to actually release it as the trigger condition. Counterspell already makes my head hurt with its causality issues, so I’m going to try not to think about it.
So why does Ready work this way?
The Sage Advice Compendium goes into a bit of detail as to why things were designed this way, vs. previous editions (esp. 4e) that allowed folk to simply delay their position on the Initiative list in a round. It doesn’t change gameplay, but it’s still kind of interesting to understand the design goals.
For a variety of reasons, we didn’t include the option to delay your turn:
Your turn involves several decisions, including where to move and what action to take. If you could delay your turn, your decision-making would possibly become slower, since you would have to consider whether you wanted to take your turn at all. Multiply that extra analysis by the number of characters and monsters in a combat, and you have the potential for many slowdowns in play.
The ability to delay your turn can make initiative meaningless, as characters and monsters bounce around in the initiative order. If combatants can change their place in the initiative order at will, why use initiative at all? On top of that, changing initiative can easily turn into an unwelcome chore, especially for the DM, who might have to change the initiative list over and over during a fight.
Being able to delay your turn can let you wreak havoc on the durations of spells and other effects, particularly any of them that last until your next turn. Simply by changing when your turn happens, you could change the length of certain spells. The way to guard against such abuse would be to create a set of additional rules that would limit your ability to change durations. The net effect? More complexity would be added to the game, and with more complexity, there is greater potential for slower play.
Two of our goals for combat were for it to be speedy and for initiative to matter. We didn’t want to start every combat by rolling initiative and then undermine turn order with a delay option. Moreover, we felt that toying with initiative wasn’t where the focus should be in battle. Instead, the dramatic actions of the combatants should be the focus, with turns that happen as quickly as possible
In short, the 5e designers decided that somewhat more elaborate, and limited, rules for Readying Actions would actually make the game flow smoother, quicker, and in a less complicated fashion. I can’t say that I disagree.
This actually doesn’t come up very often, unless you have flying characters (insert cat hissing here). But sooner or later, at the very least you will encounter flying enemies — or else you’ll have people shooting down (or up) at you from a ledge in a big chamber, or things like that.
And inevitably the question will be asked: “How far away are you?”
So let’s consider a couple of approaches, since the question of how to deal with it is not addressed in RAW that I’ve been able to find.
How far away are you?
Let’s assume you are:
shooting at something that is
A feet away from you horizontally, and
B feet above you (or below you) vertically.
For range purposes, what is the actual distance C you are firing/throwing?
1. Pythagoras
Huzzah for ancient Greek geometers. The actual distance C is the square root of (A2 + B2 ).
This is geometrically accurate, but also requires a calculator (or a right angle calculator).
2. Diagonals
This is actually a pretty clever workaround: C = (A + (B/2)).
This “works” from extending the grid system and using the DMG 252 optional rules for diagonal movement (treat the first diagonal as 5 feet, the second as 10 feet, etc.).
In my games, we don’t use that style of movement because it’s a PitA and the basic grid rules on PHB 192 are fine enough — but for these purposes it makes for an easy head calculation.
But there’s a problem here we’re not talking about
This is all cool if you are just shooting lasers (or firing spells) — weapons that ignore gravity.
But a lot of these use cases are for when you twang with your bow, or throw something (often pointy).
Gravity is your enemy if you are twanging/throwing upward. It’s your friend, to a degree, when twanging/throwing downward.
Amusing memes aside, the high ground does carry an advantage. But beyond that, aiming at things above you (or below you) isn’t something that most people train on.
So that brings us another suggestion:
3. Simple Math
If you are twanging/throwing at something higher than you, the effective distance C is (A + B).
If you are twanging/throwing at something lower than you, the effective distance C is the greater of A or B.
This takes into account that gravity is a bitch (harder uphill ranges), while keeping things easy and rewarding the high ground.
Let’s Test It.
Target
1. Pythagoras
2. Diagonals
3. Simple Math
100 ft away, 30 ft up
104
115
130
30 ft away, 100 ft up
104
115
130
100 ft away, 80 ft up
128
140
180
100 ft away, 100 ft down
141
150
100
Which is “best”? Whichever one is easiest and feels right. My house rule inclination is to go with Option 3 for everything, or, if you are feeling a bit more adventuresome, use Option 3 for thrown/twanged attacks, Option 2 for magic attacks.
Note that this affects the Bad Guys as much as it does you.
There will be SPOILERS. If you are playing in a PotA game, please don’t read this. If you are DMing a PotA game, or are a DM who wants to see what the ride was like … read on!
GM Recap
Session 12 (Day 19-20)
Faith had a dream about the missing Narl Elrok.
The party follows the trail of the ambushers of the Mirabar Delegation, an estimated thirty bugbears and humanoids, along a long-desolate roadway in the hills. The roadway ended at a broken bridge over the Dessarin River, but the party tracked the raiders south, camping overnight once they reached the southern edge of the Dessarin Hills.
The next day the trail picked up south, then curving west to the river. They found where the raiders had apparently been picked up in boat(s) — and, by coincidence, a small ship came along, the Rivermaid, commanded by a genasi gentleman, Shoalar Quanderil. He agreed, for a fee, to transport them upriver to where they could get to the Sacred Stone Monastery. He did so, as everyone ducked down as they passed Rivergard Keep. There were no problems, though Shoalar did have some interestingly-labeled shipping crates in the hold.
After a treacherous climb from the rubble at river water level to the broken bridge, the party advanced into the hills, following the vague directions given by Thurl Merosska. They walked into a waiting ambush by a party from Rivergard Keep, but managed it handily. Half the assailants fled, but the water priestess Drosnin was gleefully taken out by Faith.
As they searched the bodies, William was confronted by a bloody-eyed dwarf, coming up the road in a most threatening fashion.
Player Recap
Faith dreams. You’re soaring above the cloud wrapped snowy peaks, your wings uplifted by great winds, the incipient lightning in the sky tingling along your feathertips. Something catches your eye, of more importance than any rabbit or squirrel or wolf cub might be. You circle, stoop, dive, and You land on a battlefield, the battle long since past, crows cawing at you angrily for your intrusion.
A gaunt figure, vacant-eyed creature cringes before you holding up its arms to ward you off. (Handout: Ghoul) “I surrender!” the ghoul hisses, voice distorted. “I give up. It burns. Stop it from burning. I gave up. I surrendered. I surrendered, I said uncle.”
And it’s not a ghoul, but a young man (Narl Elrok), lying on the snowy ground before you, near death, the blood, too much blood, oozing through the rents in his armor. . On his tabard is the symbol of the Knights of Samular, the crossed sword and torch. He lifts his head, looking at you. “I was sore beset. I cried uncle,” he says, “but they didn’t listen. But he did, he heard, I cried uncle, and he heard. I’m just … so very cold. A fire would be nice. A bright, warm fire, not this cold, dead, tomb, twice dead tomb, not dead tomb. I cried … to the brother … uncle –!”
And the young man’s head lies back down, flops limply to the side in a way that looks very uncomfortable, and your neck hurts, too, and you realize you’ve rolled off of the pillow you formed out of your pack, and it’s morning, and there’s a rock digging into your cheek, and your friends are getting up and fixing breakfast.
William gathers some twigs and bits and bobs then finds a quiet spot to divine the success of our path. A silvery raven pops out of air in front of him and say “Weal of fortune,” Confirming the path forward. As the head out, William easily follows the path of the combatants, occasionally seeing the prints of bugbears mixed in with the humanoids. It dawns on him that this may have once been a road.
Dessarin Road, Dessarin Hills (or so I envisioned)
The trail goes south that roughly parallels the Dessarin Road. After a few hours it begins to turn a bit west towards the river. About four hours of travel, the trail suddenly becomes muddled. The path splits into two routes, one going south on a rougher path and the other continuing west along the smoother path. The group continues towards the river. They break through the scrub brush to see a gorge with the remains of an ancient bridge. The slope is steep. There is also a slight signs of a trail going down the cliff on the opposite side. After noting the surroundings, the group backtracks and heads south. After the split, the path turns difficult.
When the group finally moves out of the difficult terrain, the group spots the river as the sun is setting. Faith notices that the vulture overhead is actually a giant vulture high above them. There may be a rider on the vulture. Moony finds a pleasant campsite and the group rests through the uneventful night.
Once again William gathers some leaves, pebbles, and seedpods. This time he adds his Raven token then finds a quiet spot to divine the success of their path. A silvery raven pops out of the air in front of him and says “Weal”. They break camp and continue on their way south. Soon the path curves west towards the river. They are now well south of Rivergard. It look like the some boats have were pulled up here. The trail ends at the river. While they try and decide what to do next. Faith notices a large boat heading up the river. The boat is about 30 feet long. Several sailors are working on deck and a halfling is shouting orders. There are fine ornate fish designs on the sails. A nattily dressed blue-green gentleman calls to group. Are you stranded, lost, or in trouble? We are carrying cargo to Yartar. Moony asks if they can take us up river. For the sake of good conversation and company, let’s say 25 gold apiece. Theren persuades him to lower his price to 15.
He carefully maneuvers the ship closer to the shore and the crew rows over a dingy to pick them up. Once everyone gets aboard, he introduces himself as Shoalar Quanderil, a well-dressed water Genasi armed with a jovial manner, captain of the Rivermaid, along with Pyx his first mate. He asks a few pointed questions, wondering why the group didn’t know that the bridge was out and why we didn’t ask Rivergard for help. Moony derails him with a steady stream of questions about the boat and the river trade. Nala is keeping an eye on the river to spot the Rivergard Keep. She mentions to Shoalar that the group had an encounter with ghouls the night before and asked if they might rest for a bit. He offers the hammocks below deck and Nala and Moony follow Pyx below. Faith curls up in a cloak on deck. Theren stays on deck looking at the horizon. William sits on a crate on the poop deck with his back to the West side of the river. He talks about trade with Shoalar.
As they approach the keep, William notices some palisades on the East bank of the river. When they go by, Shoalar says, “When we pass this bend in the river, the keep will be out of site, if your friends would like to walk the deck more freely.” William, “That obvious is it?” “Well, most folks don’t go below deck unless it’s raining.” Nala notices some crates marked with the Water elemental symbol on her way back up deck. As they approach the broken bridge the group asks Shoalar if there is anything concerning in the area. He mentions the weather, river pirates, and Dwarf pilgrims. They disembark and say farewell.
The path up is steep and challenging. Moony offers to bring a rope to the top to help the others. Part way up he stumbles. William warns the group and then changes into a giant wolf spider. He easily reaches the summit with the rope. When it is secure, Faith and Nala successfully ascend. Theren starts up the rope and slips a bit, recovers himself, and then slips again falling down the slope. After making sure Theren is okay, Moony heads to the top with only a slight bobble. Finally, Theren ties the rope on and the group pulls him up to the top of the trail.
The party continues ahead to the remains of the bridge. The stones are very worn. Faith notices some design features that look Dwarvish. William studies the path and finds signs of recent travel up the canyon road. A largish group passed by within the last week or so. The path forward looks narrow and smoothed out a bit like the old road on the opposite side. The adventurers make their way up the canyon on high alert. Moony takes the lead stealthily making his way ahead. He spots an old wagon ahead in the middle of the path. When the others approach it is obvious that the cart has been here a very long time. The path splits at this point.
Drosnin. Art source unknown.
William hears something off to the right and sees only rock until a figure steps out “Wash this canyon with their blood!” Drosnin is obviously still pissed. The group focuses on Drosnin. Moony plunking her with arrows, William pulling her off the cliff face with a thorn whip, Theren tosses off a fireball that takes the cart, two Reavers, and singes Drosnin. She throws magic missiles at Theren, who deflects them with a shield spell. Faith provokes an attack of opportunity from the Bugbears and races towards Drosnin. She tosses off a lightning bolt and smashes her divine might. That puts an end to Drosnin. Nala, Theren, and Moony take on of the remaining Bugbears and Reavers. At least one enemy flees over the escarpment. William calls forth a Moonbeam to shine radiant light on two of the remaining Bugbears.
After the last two combatants take off, Faith finds a Black Earth symbol carved into one of the rocks. Moony and William notice some rocks sliding down from the cliff near the body of Drosnin. While several people in the party spot the rocks, no one can find the escaping source of the noise. As they search the area, they find the campsite of Drosnin and the party from Rivergard Keep. There is not much worth looting. There is some camping gear. Drosnin had an obsidian dagger and a knob shaped like a fist. Nala notices that Drosnin and the Reavers have Water element tattoos. The disturbing tattoos on Drosnin appear to be moving. They decide to burn the bodies.
A Dwarf in tattered black and red livery approaches William, brandishing a branch. “Alright you assassin, let try that again!”
Faith and her dreams are always a good time. In this case I began to weave in elements of the story of Narl Elrok (the missing Knight of Samular) and the fact that his body is in the care of his “uncle,” or, rather, the brother of Samular Caradoon, the founder of his order: Renwick Caradoon, the lich living at Sacred Stone Monastery, where the party was headed.
(I don’t recall now where the flying bird or ghoul imagery came from; the latter might have been a reference to liches and the undead, or just a bit of memory of the previous night’s encounter.)
Somewhere in here I realized I had been throwing a lot of dreams at people, so I created a set of Journal pages in Roll20 to hold the dreams, by episode number, that people had had. I don’t know if it helped the players, but it helped me in later days.
I can’t find much of the preliminary information that might have been in the book but I think I ended writing up an entire several pages about tracking the delegation and their captors, including:
Dessarin River crossing
A broken dwarvish bridge across the Dessarin River, very difficult to cross from the east (so blocking the Black Earth raiders from getting to the Monastery), but with a rubble-strewn jetty on the west side of the river (for visitors coming up from Rivergard Keep); getting from river level to the path was also non-trivial, involving Athletics challenges.
A map of the site, complete with bridge, river, jetty, etc.
I really felt I needed all that in order to understand in my own head how all this worked.
The party eventually gets to the river. They spot a Feathergale Knight overhead — Thurl is watching for his “agents.”
My Shoalar token
And finally they get to meet Shoalar Quanderil, the Genasi pirate (Genasi were first developed for this module, though they’ve been modified a bit since). He kept under cover during the initial visit to Rivergard, and the encounter with him in Womford never happened. I figured he would be a perfect tool to get the players upstream toward Sacred Stone Monastery, as well as dropping a few further clues about various goings-on.
The party’s efforts not to be seen by any guards at Rivergard were quite amusing. I considered having Shoalar pull in there, regardless, but decided that created complications I didn’t want the party to have to deal with (a long battle on the ship, for one). And Shoalar — who knew who they were — was happy to simply observe and take notes of where he let them off. Oh, and turn a nice profit off of ferrying them.
Shoalar is also, I decided, the guy who ferried the Black Earth raiders across the river. Which put him in possession of Bruldenthar’s books, some of them at least. That clue comes up in the future.
Symbol of the Crushing Wave
Also in the cargo hold were some supplies that were, for some reason, branded with the mark of the Crushing Wave cult. But why? It’s not like some supplier is marking the cargo for shipment to Rivergard with that symbol. It wouldn’t make any sense to add the symbol to goods which Shoalar had pirated, either.
(The real reason, of course, is to show Shoalar’s allegiance, or maybe to learn more about the cult and its activities, or stuff like that. Just go along for the pirate ship ride.)
The Revenge of the Rivergard
Drosnin. I always thought she looked kind of bad-ass. Or someone you’d want to punch in the snoot.
I decided, leading up to this episode, that if the party wasn’t going to tackle Rivergard, Rivergard would tackle them. In this case, the antagonist was the deeply, deeply offended Water Priestess, Drosnin, whom our cleric Faith had punched in the snoot after being disrespectful. She brought with her half the force at Rivergard and, knowing that the party was after the Sacred Stone Monastery (they’d asked Jolliver about passage there), set up an ambush for our heroes. Who had leveled at least once at that point, so it was clear the ambush was not going to go well.
Ambush map, with lots of fun ridges and rocks to hide behind
Since this was all made up, I dug up a generic battle map of a valley with a junction in the middle of it. Perfect. I think this was one of the first maps that I played with Roll20’s dynamic lighting to any degree — and, setting a precedent, spent a lot of time controlling what could or could not be seen behind rocks or ridge lines.
The battle had three results:
First, it left Rivergard seriously weakened for the party’s eventual return. (Or for other events to occur in the meantime.)
Urshnora token. She’ll be back.
Second, a Fathomer named Urshnora — who had been hanging out in Jolliver’s court when the party first visited — was Invisible leading up to the ambush, and, with her awful Initiative throw, seen almost instantly which direction the battle was going before her turn even arrived. So instead of throwing herself into a lost cause, she tip-toed (more or less) away, leaving a pragmatic NPC to encounter another day …
Aldrik, escaped from the Black Earth cult. Or did he?
Third, in that very final scene, it gave me a chance to introduce a new Player Character, played by my son who had been off at college prior to that time. Aldrik, one of the dwarvish guards of the Mirabar Delegation, had evidently been taken captive with them, but had broken free from Sacred Stone Monastery, and was in a very befuddled-but-aggressive state.
I think it was originally written up that he was in the tattered rags of his uniform, but if he didn’t get retconned to being nearly naked at that point, then the opportunity came up later on, thus the figurine.
I really didn’t know — yet — why he’d been captured, how he had gotten out, how he’d survived the ordeal, etc., but eventually it would work out beautifully.
Bits and Bobs
William‘s Raven trinket came to play again, using one of the Druid’s new spells, Augury. I’m not a big fan of fortune-telling spells, esp. as what constitutes “weal” and what constitutes “woe” can be somewhat challenging to adjudicate as the DM. But having the raven appear, think it over, and croak one or the other (or both or neither) made it a bit more fun.
Moonbeam (5′ radius) AoE token
William also got to introduce a spell he’d use reliably for the entire campaign, Moonbeam (or, as we tended to nickname it, the “orbital death laser”). Great spell for a nice, steady amount of ongoing damage to the main bad guy.
Once upon a time D&D had things like “Detect Traps” and “Disarm Traps” and lots of other very specialized skills for spotting and understanding and doing things about hidden things, and dangerous things, and dangerous and hidden things.
5e’s mechanics are arguably simpler and cleaner and more straightforward … but understanding when you should use them is definitely not. Questions always come up …
Is this a Perception roll or an Investigation roll? Or should this be done as Passive Perception?
If a module says one way or the other (“The trap can be found with a Perception roll of 13 or better”), that’s generally the way to do it. Most DMs, in lieu of that, default to their favorite.
Intelligence and Investigation
Intelligencemeasures mental acuity, accuracy of recall, and the ability to reason. Intelligence checks are used to draw on logic, deductive reasoning, memory, knowledge, and/or education.
Investigation: The ability to put together clues and make deductions the others wouldn’t make. E.g. …
“There should be a hidden panel right there.”
“This wound was caused by a stiletto.”
“He’d want his magic wand close at hand in case his pursuers found him. I’m going to look in the bedding and side table.”
“Are any of the books in this book case levers for a secret door?”
“That’s the point where the tunnel is most likely to collapse.”
“It took me a while, but I found where this scroll refers to an item in our quest.”
“What do I think this room was used for?”
“Good spotting those scratches on the floor. Here’s what I think they mean.”
“I go through the files to see if they tell us who the wizard’s father is.”
“That patch of floor you pointed out … it looks like if you step there, it will depress and, I suspect, trigger a trap.”
“How large of a creature made these tracks?”
“I’ve never seen a trap like that before. Let’s figure out how you can disarm it.”
“The baron is incredibly vain. I’m going to focus my search for the map behind his giant portrait.”
“Can I figure out why the shopkeeper is so angry?” (That he is angry is, if needed, an Insight roll.)
Just trying to find something is not an Investigation; it’s Perception. Using what is obvious (or has been Perceived by you or someone else) to figure something out is Investigation.
Wisdom and Perception
Wisdomreflects how attuned you are to the world around you and represents perceptiveness and intuition. Wisdom checks are used to test that.
Perception: This is used to spot, hear, or detect something’s presence, usually using natural senses, esp. if they are obscured or easily missed. It represents general awareness of surroundings and keenness of senses. Perception is the player’s ability to spot and detect people or items; it has nothing to do with making intelligent decisions about those people or items.
“I can hear them talking on the other side of that door.”
“I’m looking for tracks.”
“Something is creeping forward through that brush.”
“Is there anything strange about that crowd of people?”
“I smell something disgusting.”
“I am looking for a secret door.”
“I think I spotted folk lying in wait up there.”
“I heard footsteps following behind us–but I don’t see anything.”
“The floor tiles in that part of the room are a little different color.”
“Ah, there’s the sign for the street he told us to turn on.”
“Wait, there’s light coming from under this stone wall; there might be something behind it.”
“I need more arrows; I’m keeping my eyes open for an armorer.”
“I’m searching his quarters for any paper or documents.”
“Ah, there are some dandelions I can use for that potion.”
“At this point, I think this tunnel is passing right under the castle.”
“There’s a needle trap on this chest; I’ve seen this kind of thing before.”
“Is there anything unusual about this room?”
Are you attempting to hear, spot, or detect something? Are you using your senses (sight, smell, taste, touch)? Does what you’re trying rely on awareness of the surroundings (or one focused point)? Are you attempting to merely perceive or find something, not determine a deeper, hidden message? Then it’s Perception.
Investigation and Perception
Just because you can Perceive a clue, doesn’t mean you can understand it; that’s where Investigation comes in. Perception might notice small holes in the wall. Investigation would determine they are a dart trap — or perhaps vents allowing a door to close, or recessed buttons to open a secret panel.
If you have trouble deciding whether to call for an Intelligence or a Wisdom check to determine whether a character notices something, think of it in terms of what a very high or low score in those two abilities might mean.
A character with a high Wisdom but low Intelligence is aware of the surroundings but is bad at interpreting what things mean. The character might spot that one section of a wall is clean and dusty compared to the others, but he or she wouldn’t necessarily make the deduction that a secret door is there.
In contrast, a character with high Intelligence and low Wisdom is probably oblivious but clever. The character might not spot the clean section of wall but, if asked about it, could immediately deduce why it’s clean.
Wisdom checks allow characters to perceive what is around them (the wall is clean here), while Intelligence checks answer why things are that way (there’s probably a secret door).
Ideally, one would have someone with high Perception to find things, and then someone with high Investigation* to understand what those things mean.
*Or other INT-based Ability.
Another point to consider: the underlying question from the GM should always be, “What is your character doing?” “I’m searching the chamber” is perhaps too vague — are you going along and tapping all the walls? Are you standing in the middle and getting a sense of the layout of things? Are you lifting up each crate, or rifling through each drawer? What are you searching for, and how are you trying to find it? That can make clear if you are Investigating or Perceiving (and affect what a successful roll means).
And all that said, it’s important not to make things too cumbersome. “All right, Bob, make a Perception roll to see if there’s something off about that chest lock. Okay, Susan, you’ll need to Investigate to identify the trap that Bob is found. Excellent, now Ted, make a Dexterity (Thieves Tools) roll to disarm it.” That’s an accurate way to do things, but also kind of clumsy. Most cases described in official materials related to traps tend to go Perception+disarm rolls, leaving out the Investigation piece. That makes sense for normal, “obvious” traps. For more elaborate traps, that may not be the case.
(Another idea I’ve seen is letting an added Investigation check be made to gain an Advantage on the disarm.)
And a final thought: The question is always, “How can we best have fun?” The rules and interpretation and all should be promoting that end, not defeating it. Depending on how we see what “fun” is (challenge, competition, story, humor, simulation, etc.) may create variation, but worrying too much about “Are we following every rule to the letter, and where the rules are ambitious how can we succeed in our duty?” is not (except for the extremely LN amongst us) most likely to get us there.
References
Here are some places to look for more information, including some good web pages for reference (much of the material there has soaked into the above):
Bonus Topic: Passive Perception (Again, Still, Some More)
That there are Active and Passive versions of most skills is clear in the rules. I still find it frustrating in how Active vs Passive Perception is described and its varied applications (let’s hope the new 2024 not-an-edition of D&D gives us a bit more clarity on this)
Then this SkullSplitterDice article caught my eye, and I found it summarizes a lot of the debates and struggles I had over the concept of Passive Perception and what it means and when one can or should use it, so I’m going to walk through it and comment.
1. “To gloss over a lot of time attempting the same thing over and over.”
Or, as it says as an example on PHB 175, “Such a check can represent the average result for a task done repeatedly, such as searching for secret doors over and over again.” This is roughly like “Take 10” in D&D 3.5. If there’s no cost to re-attempting (re-rolling) or failing (or consequence to the time it takes), then the Passive Skill lets the GM simply say, “Yeah, you eventually do it” if it is higher than the DC of the obstacle.
From a Passive Perception standpoint, this would be difference between, “I am going to search the room” and “I am going to spend an hour searching and re-searching the room, because that secret door has got to be here somewhere.” The former would be an Active roll; the latter a Passive check.
The problem is, if the DC is 20 and your Passive Perception is 15, you can theoretically spend forever doing it, Passively, and never find that Secret Door.
Plus, this stops mattering with the rule on DMG 237 for “Multiple Ability Checks”:
Sometimes a character fails an ability check and wants to try again. In some cases, a character is free to do so; the only real cost is the time it takes. With enough attempts and enough time, a character should eventually succeed at the task. To speed things up, assume that a character spending ten times the normal amount of time needed to complete a task automatically succeeds at that task. However, no amount of repeating the check allows a character to turn an impossible task into a successful one.
That takes a lot out of “re-rolling,” rendering this aspect of Passive Skills moot.
2. “To average out a lot of minor consequences.”
The example given here is using a Bard’s Perform as a Passive to represent how they do on any given night, rather than rolling for each hour, or each bar, or each song. (One could question, in this case, whether the consequences of a spectacular performance before the right crowd, or a complete botch-up of one before the wrong crowd, might not be so minor.)
I’m not sure how to fit that into Passive Perception, however.
3. “To allow the DM to get check results without the players knowing about it.”
This always comes up, as if to trump any and all other vagueness. “Use this, because then you don’t have to warn the players that something is up by having them roll or by your rolling behind the screen.” Very meta.
Also, very useless if the GM is using macros in a VTT like Roll20. One click and I can generate the party’s Active Perception rolls, as easily as having their Passive Perceptions on a piece of paper in front of me. (In fact, the macro I use shows the Passive and a thrown Active Perception for each player, so it’s literally the same effort for me.)
So this use of Passive Perception doesn’t gain anything.
All that said …
I will add two more uses I read about that aren’t included in the article:
4. To provide a basement for Active Rolls.
This is a weird one, and while used by a lot of people (including some importantWotCfolk), it bugs me. The idea is that if Passive Perception is, say, 12 … you can never roll on Active Perception below a 12, because, well, if Passive Perception is what you just automatically notice, how could you Actively notice any less than that?
I disagree, for two reasons:
First, Passive Perception in this case is normal conscious and unconscious awareness in a situation.
If I start peering at the bookcase looking for a crack that signals a secret door, I should very much be more likely to find it than if I just glanced around the room — but I am also less likely to notice the crack in the opposite wall.
If I’m worried there are Orcs in the bushes ahead, I might be distracted from noticing the Roper in the tree above me.
I.e., my Active Perception can definitely “roll” lower than my Passive Perception.
Second, the Rogue’s Reliable Talent ability at 11th Level literally does this basement thing.
By 11th level, you have refined your chosen skills until they approach perfection. Whenever you make an ability check that lets you add your proficiency bonus, you can treat a d20 roll of 9 or lower as a 10.
That’s essentially the level of a Passive check. If we treat Passives as the basement for an Active roll, this Class Feature is meaningless. Boo.
5. To let monsters search for you without a die roll.
There is one other use case the article doesn’t mention, and, interestingly, it’s the only place in the rules that really spells out a case of using Passive Perception:
When you hide, there’s a chance someone will notice you even if they aren’t searching. To determine whether such a creature notices you, the DM compares your Dexterity (Stealth) check with that creature’s passive Wisdom (Perception) score, which equals 10 + the creature’s Wisdom modifier, as well as any other bonuses or penalties. If the creature has Advantage, add 5. For Disadvantage, subtract 5. For example, if a 1st-level character (with a Proficiency Bonus of +2) has a Wisdom of 15 (a +2 modifier) and proficiency in Perception, he or she has a passive Wisdom (Perception) of 14.
(In general skill contests between players and opponents, 5e leans toward die rolling on the player side (for obvious feelings of having agency). While some contests are roll-vs-roll, if there is one side that will not be rolling, it will be the non-player side.)
The question is, why use the the non-PC’s Passive Perception? Why not have the monster roll, too? It’s literally just as easy for the DM to do that.
So what does all this mean?
There are a lot of folk who lean heavily on using Passive skill rolls, including for Perception.
But all the above means I’m not likely as a DM to do much with Passive Perception or other Passives. They don’t add much other than letting the DM be sneaky, and I can be imperceptibly (see what I did there?) sneaky without them.
The only thing that might change that would be if someone in my game took the Observant feat, which adds +5 to your Passive Perception and Passive Investigation. That might make me re-evaluate all this, which I’d rather not, so I hope they don’t.
Bonus Topic: Other Intelligence checks
Intelligence (Investigation) tends to be about the here and now, figuring out present clues and circumstances to deduce and understand them. Other Intelligence abilities are more academic.
Use Intelligence (History) to recall lore about historical events, legendary people, ancient kingdoms, wars, locations, etc.
Use Intelligence (Arcana) to recall lore about spells, magic items, eldritch symbols, magic traditions, planes of existence (and their inhabitants).
Use Intelligence (Religion) to recall lore about the gods, rites and prayers, churches, holy symbols, and cults.
These three are largely not interchangeable, at least in terms of the info they give, though there could be some overlap. For example, imagine standing in front of a statue of a woman in regal robes and holding a staff with an interesting design on it.
History would potentially inform you of who that is, or maybe least their era or realm (based on the fashion style). The style of the sculpture might also provide some further information; if the statue itself is or resembles a famous one, the lore behind it might be revealed. The crown on her head, the pattern on her cloak, a national symbol on a necklace could provide clues.
Arcana could tell you about that staff and its history and abilities. Or it might recognize who the figure is if they were a ground-breaking spell-caster or researcher. Their gloves might have warding symbols against fire, indicating who their opponents were. If they are in the midst of spell-casting (showing a somatic element), that might be identifiable as well.
Religion might inform you about that holy symbol woven into their robes, or if this matches a recorded form of a deity. It might also tell you if their stance or garb matches a particular faith practice or ritual, with possible further info (including time and place) stemming from that.
Also, of course, use Intelligence (Nature) to recall lore about terrain, plants, animals, weather, and natural cycles. That might not help with the statue … except it could assist with recognizing the stone and where it’s from, or how the wear pattern indicates an age, or even, if creatures or plants are depicted in the statue (the flowers at her feet, the dragonet sitting on her shoulder) provide information about the time or place being referenced.
There will be SPOILERS. If you are playing in a PotA game, please don’t read this. If you are DMing a PotA game, or are a DM who wants to see what the ride was like … read on!
GM Recap
Rivergard Keep
Session 10 (Day 17)
The party asked Jolliver Grimjaw of Rivergard Keep for transportation up the river so they could (cough) travel to Beliard, offering lots of gold. Jolliver, who said his castle protected the river traffic from bandits, pirates, and monsters, opined that for lots of gold, they might get to take his patrol boat upriver when it returned in a few days.
Ensconced in the barracks, having been warned to keep their noses clean, Faith, Nala, and Theren promptly started a fight in the chapel (which was decorated with the cryptic Symbol at Rivergard Keep) with Drosnin the priestess and her two assistants. The trio ducked out under magical fog, and, after rejoining with Moony and William, everyone decided to get out of Rivergard … by stealing a boat, shattering the harbor chain, making a great wind, enduring withering crowsbow and javelin fire, absorbing many magic missiles, and watching Moony on the verge of death five times.
They drifted down the river, on their small stolen boat, recovering hit points, and trying to figure out how they’d back north, past Rivergard Keep, to the mysterious Sacred Stone Monastery. …
Player Recap
Jolliver Grimjaw, as I chose to envision him (per stray art on the Internet).
“Who the devil are you?”
Jolliver Grimjaw, seated in a large chair in front of table littered with used plates and papers. Theren tries to convince him to take us North on the river. He is hesitant to trust us. Theren tells how Moony has experience as a sailor and the rest can help protect the ship and general grunt work. Won’t have a ship leaving for a couple of days. Keep your noses clean until then and we will see.
Holger brings the group to the barracks, boots a couple of men out of the first two bunk and leaves the group with the disgruntled arms men. William tries to make amends and gives the Reaver who was displaced some silver and tell him to have a beer on us. He accepts with a little less coldness in his voice. Moony pulls out his bedroll and curls up to nap. One of the armsmen looks at him in disbelief, “What the hell are you?” Moony just fixes him with a cat-like stare. William stays with Moony, while the others head to the chapel with Faith.
Symbol of the Crushing Wave
As they approach the chapel, they hear a voice saying “…and that is why what has been imparted is so important…” As Faith enters, the voice says, “Hello, is anyone there? Come in.” The altar is blank but there is a symbol of an X with a bar at the bottom.
Drosnin the priestess demands that they respect her authority and not disrupt her service. When Faith approaches the altar and drops to pray, Drosnin tells her to return to the pews and instructs the guards to keep her in-line. Faith sits and continues her prayers and pays no attention to the priestess. Drosnin is not amused and commands the Reavers to “discipline” Faith. The Reavers approach. Nala places herself between one Reaver and Faith and says, “You really have no cause to interfere” He says “I’ve been given orders, that is all the cause I need,” but he does not approach further.
Drosnin
The second Reaver places his hand on Faith’s shoulder to grapple her. A booming thunder strikes the Reaver. Faith resists the grapple and jerks away. Theren releases the fire bolt he had held. At the same time Drosnin, attacks Faith, who resists. Next she raises her hands gesturing at Theren and a shard of ice flies at him. His shield spell deflects the shard, but it explodes and damages everyone in range. The group decides that it is time to leave. Faith casts fog as the party leaves heading towards the barracks.
When Theren arrives at the barracks, the party quickly packs their belongings and heads for the docks. Shouts meet them and armsmen race to intercept. A battle ensues on the docks and boat, as the group attacks the heavy chain blocking the channel out of the port. Faith shatters the chain as Moony and Nala race for the boat. The mercenaries and Reaver attack from the parapets with crossbows, as more race to join the fray. William creates a square of thorns and vines to slow the advancing attackers. Nala is last to board and Faith uses a giant gust of wind to push the boat off. Captain Moony gets the ship moving and the group is supporting by rowing and keeping the attackers at bay.
William attacks one of the mercs with a whip and pulls them off of the parapet and into the water. Theren throws spells at an amazing rate, disabling the Reaver trying to catch the boat. Moony and Theren at the back of the boat are taking the brunt of the attacks. Faith heals Theren and continues to use the wind to push the boat farther into the river. Moony falls to a barrage of Magic Missiles from Drosnin. Suddenly a surprised William starts glowing brightly. There are stars at his joints in the shape of a chalice. He reaches for Moony and heals him. Then Theren is also healed.
Water Serpent (actually, a Water Weird artwork)
A water serpent appears and tries to encoil Nala. She dodges and attacks with her sword. It is a mighty blow, but does not damage the serpent greatly. Theren attackes the sea serpent. The Bugbears reach at the end of the parapet and start to pepper the boat with arrows. (Bugbears? Where did they come from?) Moony goes down again. The ship continues into the river being pulled by the currents. Many attacks and heals later, the boat moves out of range down stream.
Game Notes
Hilarity ensues.
So the Campaign as Written (CAW) for Rivergard Keep suggests the players infiltrate, learn stuff, and then start carefully, methodically, killing bad guys.
Plans go awry
Instead, the party infiltrated, then punched bad guys, then fled ahead of all the bad guys coming after them.
Sigh.
That said, in a role-playing game, people are going to play their roles in ways that don’t necessarily chart the most optimal course to success. So Faith is going to insist on going to the chapel (even when it’s suggested they stay put), and is going to act rudely to the rite and instruction going on there, and is going to punch the high priestess in the snoot.
Then the whole party is going to have to flee, like Indy away from the natives he was trying to steal the gold idol from. Because that’s just what the CAW planned for (rolls eyes).
It really did have this vibe.
I ran the flight from the barracks down to the boat as legit as I could, as the different internal castle defenses came into play. Mages. Bugbears. Water Serpents. Lots of mooks. Things got dicey at times (the unarmored Tabaxi who happens to be the only one with sailing experience, manning the tiller at the end of the boat, is going to be a natural target, every time he gets brought back from the near-dead), but they managed to, somehow, escape.
And there I was, back at the same conundrum as after Feathergale Spire. The group had hardly defeated Rivergard Keep, but were maintaining a steady course for Sacred Stone Monastery. Rivergard Keep’s fall was a milestone for 5th Level. What to do?
I decided, this time, to not award the milestone. At least, not yet.
Bits and Bobs
The chapel clearly had the Water Cult (Crushing Wave) sigil painted on the wall. A clue! A clue!
Again, it’s easy enough to blame the player for having their character act so fractiously. But Faith was a contradiction in terms as a character — simultaneously a naif and someone who would jump off a cliff if you told her you didn’t want to. Running into an imperious Cult “Priestess” (the players noted that the spells Drosnin was casting were magical, not clerical, generally true for all the ostensible worshippers of the Princes) was just the sort of thing that would set her off, aided and abetted by the Sorcerer who’d just as soon blow everything up as not. The brief attempt at diplomacy from the Dragonborn fighter simply wasn’t (yet) up to the task.
Not surprisingly, I had no idea this would happen (the CAW didn’t, either). Thus, I had no plans for how the small boat worked that they took, and as we were playing, I (and players) were frantically looking up how small watercraft work. Yeah, team!
(I didn’t even actually have a boat figure to use, because nobody is expected to be fleeing from the Keep on a boat. There’s a boat embedded on the map, but you can’t actually move it. I think I eventually created in Roll20 a rectangle 10×15 and sat the players down in that and moved it around on the map as they escaped. After the game, I crafted a boat for them next episode to use as they were on the river, which they promptly abandoned. Sigh.)
The party’s ability to zap the chain blocking the harbor exit was genius on their part. Using Gust of Wind to propel the craft was also pretty clever.
Shoalar (art by Laura Pines)
There was a small ship in the inner harbor of the Keep, owned and operated and occupied (below deck) by Shoalar Quanderil, a very interesting Genasi pirate. All sorts of fun stuff happens if the players attack the boat.
But, since nobody attacked his ship, or offered to pay him for going after the escapees, he remained below deck. He would be planned for a reappearance multiple times in the future, though only managing once on stage for quite some time.
Water Serpent token (in lieu of a token that has the text “WATER SERPENT”)
The water serpent (a transmogrified Raesh the Fathomer) was the first “magic weapons only” critter they’d run into. It would not be the last.
Jolliver didn’t do his own personal magical thing, largely because he had an entire castle of mooks and followers running off to do it for him.
Shoalar’s (big) boat. The party’s escape (little) boat.
The Keep map is actually pretty cool, and the keep’s defenses (including the Bugbears, which kind of provoked a “Whoa, these guys really are the bad guys, not just reacting to Faith’s attacking them” reaction) were actually pretty spiffy. They took arrow fire, and magic fire, from different locations, and barely managed to make it out (pumping as many healing spells into Moony as they had available). I’ve seen the map for Rivergard Keep repurposed into other campaigns, and it’s definitely suitable for that, even if the main building gets a little difficult (in its open balconies) to manage.
That said, I did end up writing notes to myself all over the map to note things like “this is where the Portcullis is controlled from” or “Guards here respond to battle in K19, K21.”
Prototype Crushing Wave Cultists, also the basis for all their art assets.
Add this place to all the others where the generic cultist fighters (Reavers) were drawn up using artwork that in the actual books is labeled as “prototype” or experimental or “We played with the idea of doing crazy shit like this, but eventually decided against it.” I.e., the Roll20 art elements were pretty darned sketchy.
Jolliver
Similarly, Jolliver. He is (SPOILER!) a wereboar (not for any particular story-related reasons). His token has three alternates: full wereboar, transitional wereboar … and a token that has the text “Jolliver Grimjaw” written on it. (Mutter mutter.) So I had to craft a token to look like him in his human form, which I was happy to do, but don’t feel like, for the price of all this stuff, I should have had to.
For much of the campaign I made up titles for each session. Eventually I decided just to use the dungeon name, part X. But I was still doing the titles here, and, in keeping with that Quinn Martin motif, I could just hear the announcer intoning, “Tonight’s episode … River of Danger!”
So there’s two of the Haunted Keeps encountered and left behind, relatively intact. But the fate of Feathergale Spire and Rivergard Keep would be quite different, as the story was improvised forward by me. And while I’d had much, much less chance to do more human interaction with the water cultists at Rivergard than with the air cultists at Feathergale, there would eventually be some connections made that would last through the game.
There will be SPOILERS. If you are playing in a PotA game, please don’t read this. If you are DMing a PotA game, or are just a general D&D DM who wants to see what the ride was like … read on!
GM Recap
Session 9 (Day 15-17)
Moony scouted out some of the as-yet-unrevealed portions of Feathergale Spire (3), Nala contemplated the hungry ferocity of the Initiates, William camped out on the roof, and Faith had a dream.
The heroes were invited in the morning to a rooftop assembly where, under heavy Knight presence, Thurl asked them to investigate the possibly-evil, possibly-Black Earth monks of the Sacred Stone Monastery, far into the hills.
Choosing not to fight over it, the heroes traveled east to the Dessarin River and Rivergard Keep to gain transit up to the monastery. Along the way they were attacked by a trio of Ankheg (eek!).
They camped out overnight, short of their target, to regain spells and HP and so forth. DING! Level 4!
They arrived at Rivergard Keep. They were met at the heavily guarded gates by an officer named Holger, and were escorted into the presence of the apparent lord of the castle, Jolliver Grimjaw, who did not seem pleased to meet them.
Player Recap
After Savra leaves Moony and Nala, Moony quietly slips out and goes to the other room. Moony “Are any of you joiners?” He explains Savra’s offer and wonders if information might be gained by pretending to join. At Moony’s prompting, Faith provides extensive background on the elemental practices and realms. After some discussion, Moony returns to his room to share the knowledge with Nala.
A bit later William leaves the South room and walks up to the roof. There are a couple knights and their vultures on guard, looking out at the fog filled valley.
Nala is thinking over the dinner and remembers that there was something odd about the initiates. She realizes that the initiates only spoke when spoken to. There is a sameness about them, they move in a similar fashion and when at rest there hand steeple in a triangle pointing down. They are also hungry, lean but not emaciated.
Conceptual art for a Feathergale Knight … which is kind of all you get.
Moony gather up some tools and heads down to the entry hall. The initiate in the main hall does not pay attention to Moony, muttering to himself swaying slightly. Quietly opening the door off of the staircase, Moony finds a bunk room with 4 sleepers in the bunks. He moves onto the room off of the entryway; it is well lit with several initiates standing at windows looking out at the entrance. He steps back and quietly closes the door unnoticed. The final unexplored floor draws the curious cat. There are four doors on this level, all of them with raised bars on the outside. At the first door, he hears some chanting or praying on the other side. No noise comes from the second door, but it is well sealed. Through the third door, Moony hears sobbing; likely this is Savra’s room.
As he descends back to the main floor, the initiate is still standing at the window. He overhears the words free.. free.. Moving to a better spot to see, Moony observes that the initiate, while doing something on his chest, is chanting, “Free me, I must be free, I will be free, I am free”.
Another bad dream for Faith – Looking from a very great height, feeling weightless as you slowly circle the landscape, a narrow valley in the hills, a river winding through it … your eye catches on something below … your vision is narrowing, as though you were suddenly dropping, dropping, the screaming of the wind in your ears, sight fading to blackness but the screaming, the howling continues, like cries of wild beast, the angry shouts of the mad, echoing from the walls about you, screaming to be released to rend and slay and … Savra knocking on the door. Savra asks the group to join Thurl on the pinnacle. Faith explains that she needs 15 minutes to pray first, but will join them shortly. Faith asks Theren to look for William to let him know. Savra then goes and wakes Nala and Moony. They get ready and wait for Faith to finish her prayers before heading up together.
Theren arrives at the top of the stairs and William wakes up. There is the sound of a lot of bird flapping. In addition to the two guards, there are four mounted knights. Thurl is on the opposite side of the tower. He invites us over to him. The knights and Savra are not looking as friendly as they were last night. Savra appears to be angry at our turning down the offer of joining the knights. The others knights are giving her side-long looks and appear to side with her.
Thurl greets us and again toasts our victory. He says that we would make good knights, but … You are brave and honorable people. You would have made fine Feathergale Knights, if circumstances were different. But your lives’ paths, your station … and your narrow vision, all weigh in the balance. I have a proposal for you. To the east and into the hills lies the so-called Sacred Stone Monastery. Those reclusive monks harbor, I believe, great evil, perhaps even association with the Cult of the Black Earth — their very name reeks of their bound and stifled souls. Go there. See what you find. If there is evil, dash it upon the very stones they claim for their symbol, and mark yourselves champions for liberty . Do this for me, and I will know you are no threat to the freedom of my people, or the empowering of each individual in the realm. Do this for me, and you will be greatly rewarded.
Nala asks more about what Thurl is asking us to do. William senses that the party is a weapon being pointed at a target. He is more interested in the fate of the target than the party’s welfare. Thurl offers some rations for the trip. They go with Savra to collect the rations and head out. Thurl sees them to the gate and wishes them well.
The journey towards the river is quiet at first. The party discussed their impressions of strangeness about the tower.
Shortly past the Shallow Graves, walking through the grasslands the party feels another tremor hit. This is different from the tremors they have been feeling lately. The earth upslope is breaking apart and starting to roll down hill. Abruptly, a giant insect erupts from the ground. Its long antenna twitching, hook-like limbs clawing out the dirt. The first Ankheg moves to attack as a second and third Ankheg emerge from the ground. Spells and arrows fly, weapons ring out, acid spews, but the fate of the Ankheg is set as one by one they go down. (The GM weeps as the final Ankheg misses his cool bite attack).
The party moves on and as it is getting dark they choose to camp for the night rather than press on toward the keep. Refreshed and unmolested overnight the group awakes. They feel stronger and more competent. After wondering at their own changes, they notice a wolf curled up on William’s bedroll.
Shortly after breaking breakfast they arrive at the gates of Riverguard Keep. They are questioned rather rudely by the guard. William explains that they merely want to go up-river and if they want proof of their good deeds, he can walk out and see the three giant insects that they killed last night. Faith offers to feed any in need and is snubbed. Moony takes over the conversation, reiterating that the group wants to catch a boat heading north. Eventually they pass into the castle yard and follow the guard to the great hall of the keep.
A large gentleman stands up from behind a table cluttered with papers and says “Who the devil are you?”
Game Notes
Sooner or later, the party is intended to defeat the Feathergale Knights.
This party declined, for the moment. Courteously.
Thurl Merosska
Which pulled me up short. I’d thought the confrontation on the spire-top was the moment that bloodletting would occur — the FKs were scary, but not that scary — but the party sort of knuckled forehead and told Thurl they’d be happy to go check out Sacred Stone Monastery.
I didn’t want to just start a melee from the FKs’ side — it made no sense as set up (especially as Thurl really was pointing them as a gun toward the Black Earth cult), and would feel very railroady.
Okay, fine … but … what about Milestone Leveling?
They hadn’t really taken down Feathergale Spire … though they had engaged with it a lot and learned from it. But Rivergard Keep was optimized for Level 4. I didn’t want the party wiped out (in my own way I was as paranoid about a TPK as the players), and I suspected it was a location that would not be easily escaped from if they got into a fight. (An interesting concern, given what happened the next session.)
So … I let them ding up to 4th Level. I’m still not sure if that was a mistake or not, but it wasn’t the last I made, certainly.
Bits and Bobs
All the cults have hand gestures that are used to signal who they are and, outside their strongholds, maybe signal others of their kind. These gestures (which sort of echo the cult symbols) are sometimes labeled in the Campaign As Written (CAW) as a way to prove bona fides when going into someplace secure.
But the number of opportunities to point out someone is doing something with their hands, without really lampshading it, are pretty limited. I tried, but it wasn’t something the party ever picked up on.
The creepy initiate at the window muttering about wanting to be free was, by the bye, doing more scarifying. But his back was turned, so Moony couldn’t see it.
I have no idea what Faith was dreaming about. A Manticore? Could be.
Poor Savra. She’s cut herself off from home, but still misses it. She wants to be Thurl’s indispensable lieutenant, but he just uses her. She meets some cool new people who seem to want to be friends, and then they turn down her offer to join her exclusive club. No wonder she’s crying during Moony’s search of the tower.
Faith’s player had her studiously praying every morning. Just a bit of character color … that I was able to do a very creepy thing with down the line …
Ankheg!
Hey, we got a hit on the Random Encounter Table for this level, and, hey, it was Ankhegs. Coolness! Even if they got taken down far faster than I expected (a common theme through the entire campaign).
The entrance into Rivergard Keep was much less friendly than that into Feathergale Spire, and the wrap-up on their being presented to Jolliver and having him snap out, “Who the devil are you?” was fun. I had no idea what the party was going to do the next time, but I suspected they’d be coming to blows with the pirate lord of Rivergard Keep.
The Landing Page
It was around this time that I started crafting a Roll20 landing page for the campaign — a map where all the players would land when they signed in each game before I shifted attention to the actual campaign map. I mean, sure, you can have the “campaign book cover” landing page as provided in Roll20, but it’s a scosh busy and also a snapshot from a moment of time in the campaign.
What I had evolved over time, but its elements included:
The campaign name
A cute campaign logo
The session number and day number of the session
The phase of the moon (which the druid asked for at one point)
A tableau of the player character tokens
A tableau (where it could be done without spoilers) of tokens of figures they were likely to (re)meet the next session
A tableau of tokens of prominent enemies they had encountered, with a note as to their status.
A list of outstanding questions (i.e., clues I had dropped, things they had thought might need more investigation, etc.), as a reminder of what they had been focused on last time (or what I wanted them to focus on this time). Some of it was sometimes a bit tongue in cheek. This list also showed up in the campaign page in Roll20.
A map of the Dessarin Valley, showing where they were (eventually maps of the dungeons they were in, with unexplored areas masked, showing where they were), as a reminder.
Once they got into the Temples and Nodes, a “band tour” listing of the places they had explored.
I eventually set up an amusing (to me, at least) layout as if this was all being done as a Quinn Martin production series intro:.
ELEMENTARY … a Hill-Consortium Production … Starring … [player character tokens] … with Guest Stars … [various likely folk they would encounter, no spoilers] … Special Guest Star … [usually the main baddie I expected them to face, no spoilers]. Tonight’s episode … [episode title].
To avoid spoilers, I crafted a series of “question mark” tokens I could fill in.
Yeah, it’s not the prettiest thing, and it sort of grew like Topsy, but it served my purposes.
You can google Roll20 landing page and actually get a lot of cool examples (and some templates for sale from enterprising entrepreneurs).
There will be SPOILERS. If you are playing in a PotA game, please don’t read this. If you are DMing a PotA game, or are a DM who wants to see what the ride was like … read on!
GM Recap
Session 9 (Day 15-17)
Moony scouted out some of the as-yet-unrevealed portions of Feathergale Spire (3), Nala contemplated the hungry ferocity of the Initiates, William camped out on the roof, and Faith had a dream.
The heroes were invited in the morning to a rooftop assembly where, under heavy Knight presence, Thurl asked them to investigate the possibly-evil, possibly-Black Earth monks of the Sacred Stone Monastery, far into the hills.
Choosing not to fight over it, the heroes traveled east to the Dessarin River and Rivergard Keep to gain transit up to the monastery. Along the way they were attacked by a trio of Ankheg (eek!).
They camped out overnight, short of their target, to regain spells and HP and so forth. DING! Level 4!
They arrived at Rivergard Keep. They were met at the heavily guarded gates by an officer named Holger, and were escorted into the presence of the apparent lord of the castle, Jolliver Grimjaw, who did not seem pleased to meet them.
Player Recap
After Savra leaves Moony and Nala, Moony quietly slips out and goes to the other room. Moony “Are any of you joiners?” He explains Savra’s offer and wonders if information might be gained by pretending to join. At Moony’s prompting, Faith provides extensive background on the elemental practices and realms. After some discussion, Moony returns to his room to share the knowledge with Nala.
A bit later William leaves the South room and walks up to the roof. There are a couple knights and their vultures on guard, looking out at the fog filled valley.
Nala is thinking over the dinner and remembers that there was something odd about the initiates. She realizes that the initiates only spoke when spoken to. There is a sameness about them, they move in a similar fashion and when at rest there hand steeple in a triangle pointing down. They are also hungry, lean but not emaciated.
Conceptual art for a Feathergale Knight … which is kind of all you get.
Moony gather up some tools and heads down to the entry hall. The initiate in the main hall does not pay attention to Moony, muttering to himself swaying slightly. Quietly opening the door off of the staircase, Moony finds a bunk room with 4 sleepers in the bunks. He moves onto the room off of the entryway; it is well lit with several initiates standing at windows looking out at the entrance. He steps back and quietly closes the door unnoticed. The final unexplored floor draws the curious cat. There are four doors on this level, all of them with raised bars on the outside. At the first door, he hears some chanting or praying on the other side. No noise comes from the second door, but it is well sealed. Through the third door, Moony hears sobbing; likely this is Savra’s room.
As he descends back to the main floor, the initiate is still standing at the window. He overhears the words free.. free.. Moving to a better spot to see, Moony observes that the initiate, while doing something on his chest, is chanting, “Free me, I must be free, I will be free, I am free”.
Another bad dream for Faith – Looking from a very great height, feeling weightless as you slowly circle the landscape, a narrow valley in the hills, a river winding through it … your eye catches on something below … your vision is narrowing, as though you were suddenly dropping, dropping, the screaming of the wind in your ears, sight fading to blackness but the screaming, the howling continues, like cries of wild beast, the angry shouts of the mad, echoing from the walls about you, screaming to be released to rend and slay and … Savra knocking on the door. Savra asks the group to join Thurl on the pinnacle. Faith explains that she needs 15 minutes to pray first, but will join them shortly. Faith asks Theren to look for William to let him know. Savra then goes and wakes Nala and Moony. They get ready and wait for Faith to finish her prayers before heading up together.
Theren arrives at the top of the stairs and William wakes up. There is the sound of a lot of bird flapping. In addition to the two guards, there are four mounted knights. Thurl is on the opposite side of the tower. He invites us over to him. The knights and Savra are not looking as friendly as they were last night. Savra appears to be angry at our turning down the offer of joining the knights. The others knights are giving her side-long looks and appear to side with her.
Thurl greets us and again toasts our victory. He says that we would make good knights, but … You are brave and honorable people. You would have made fine Feathergale Knights, if circumstances were different. But your lives’ paths, your station … and your narrow vision, all weigh in the balance. I have a proposal for you. To the east and into the hills lies the so-called Sacred Stone Monastery. Those reclusive monks harbor, I believe, great evil, perhaps even association with the Cult of the Black Earth — their very name reeks of their bound and stifled souls. Go there. See what you find. If there is evil, dash it upon the very stones they claim for their symbol, and mark yourselves champions for liberty . Do this for me, and I will know you are no threat to the freedom of my people, or the empowering of each individual in the realm. Do this for me, and you will be greatly rewarded.
Nala asks more about what Thurl is asking us to do. William senses that the party is a weapon being pointed at a target. He is more interested in the fate of the target than the party’s welfare. Thurl offers some rations for the trip. They go with Savra to collect the rations and head out. Thurl sees them to the gate and wishes them well.
The journey towards the river is quiet at first. The party discussed their impressions of strangeness about the tower.
Shortly past the Shallow Graves, walking through the grasslands the party feels another tremor hit. This is different from the tremors they have been feeling lately. The earth upslope is breaking apart and starting to roll down hill. Abruptly, a giant insect erupts from the ground. Its long antenna twitching, hook-like limbs clawing out the dirt. The first Ankheg moves to attack as a second and third Ankheg emerge from the ground. Spells and arrows fly, weapons ring out, acid spews, but the fate of the Ankheg is set as one by one they go down. (The GM weeps as the final Ankheg misses his cool bite attack).
The party moves on and as it is getting dark they choose to camp for the night rather than press on toward the keep. Refreshed and unmolested overnight the group awakes. They feel stronger and more competent. After wondering at their own changes, they notice a wolf curled up on William’s bedroll.
Shortly after breaking breakfast they arrive at the gates of Riverguard Keep. They are questioned rather rudely by the guard. William explains that they merely want to go up-river and if they want proof of their good deeds, he can walk out and see the three giant insects that they killed last night. Faith offers to feed any in need and is snubbed. Moony takes over the conversation, reiterating that the group wants to catch a boat heading north. Eventually they pass into the castle yard and follow the guard to the great hall of the keep.
A large gentleman stands up from behind a table cluttered with papers and says “Who the devil are you?”
Game Notes
Sooner or later, the party is intended to defeat the Feathergale Knights.
This party declined, for the moment. Courteously.
Thurl Merosska
Which pulled me up short. I’d thought the confrontation on the spire-top was the moment that bloodletting would occur — the FKs were scary, but not that scary — but the party sort of knuckled forehead and told Thurl they’d be happy to go check out Sacred Stone Monastery.
I didn’t want to just start a melee from the FKs’ side — it made no sense as set up (especially as Thurl really was pointing them as a gun toward the Black Earth cult), and would feel very railroady.
Okay, fine … but … what about Milestone Leveling?
They hadn’t really taken down Feathergale Spire … though they had engaged with it a lot and learned from it. But Rivergard Keep was optimized for Level 4. I didn’t want the party wiped out (in my own way I was as paranoid about a TPK as the players), and I suspected it was a location that would not be easily escaped from if they got into a fight. (An interesting concern, given what happened the next session.)
So … I let them ding up to 4th Level. I’m still not sure if that was a mistake or not, but it wasn’t the last I made, certainly.
Bits and Bobs
All the cults have hand gestures that are used to signal who they are and, outside their strongholds, maybe signal others of their kind. These gestures (which sort of echo the cult symbols) are sometimes labeled in the Campaign As Written (CAW) as a way to prove bona fides when going into someplace secure.
But the number of opportunities to point out someone is doing something with their hands, without really lampshading it, are pretty limited. I tried, but it wasn’t something the party ever picked up on.
The creepy initiate at the window muttering about wanting to be free was, by the bye, doing more scarifying. But his back was turned, so Moony couldn’t see it.
I have no idea what Faith was dreaming about. A Manticore? Could be.
Poor Savra. She’s cut herself off from home, but still misses it. She wants to be Thurl’s indispensable lieutenant, but he just uses her. She meets some cool new people who seem to want to be friends, and then they turn down her offer to join her exclusive club. No wonder she’s crying during Moony’s search of the tower.
Faith’s player had her studiously praying every morning. Just a bit of character color … that I was able to do a very creepy thing with down the line …
Ankheg!
Hey, we got a hit on the Random Encounter Table for this level, and, hey, it was Ankhegs. Coolness! Even if they got taken down far faster than I expected (a common theme through the entire campaign).
The entrance into Rivergard Keep was much less friendly than that into Feathergale Spire, and the wrap-up on their being presented to Jolliver and having him snap out, “Who the devil are you?” was fun. I had no idea what the party was going to do the next time, but I suspected they’d be coming to blows with the pirate lord of Rivergard Keep.
The Landing Page
It was around this time that I started crafting a Roll20 landing page for the campaign — a map where all the players would land when they signed in each game before I shifted attention to the actual campaign map. I mean, sure, you can have the “campaign book cover” landing page as provided in Roll20, but it’s a scosh busy and also a snapshot from a moment of time in the campaign.
What I had evolved over time, but its elements included:
The campaign name
A cute campaign logo
The session number and day number of the session
The phase of the moon (which the druid asked for at one point)
A tableau of the player character tokens
A tableau (where it could be done without spoilers) of tokens of figures they were likely to (re)meet the next session
A tableau of tokens of prominent enemies they had encountered, with a note as to their status.
A list of outstanding questions (i.e., clues I had dropped, things they had thought might need more investigation, etc.), as a reminder of what they had been focused on last time (or what I wanted them to focus on this time). Some of it was sometimes a bit tongue in cheek. This list also showed up in the campaign page in Roll20.
A map of the Dessarin Valley, showing where they were (eventually maps of the dungeons they were in, with unexplored areas masked, showing where they were), as a reminder.
Once they got into the Temples and Nodes, a “band tour” listing of the places they had explored.
I eventually set up an amusing (to me, at least) layout as if this was all being done as a Quinn Martin production series intro:.
ELEMENTARY … a Hill-Consortium Production … Starring … [player character tokens] … with Guest Stars … [various likely folk they would encounter, no spoilers] … Special Guest Star … [usually the main baddie I expected them to face, no spoilers]. Tonight’s episode … [episode title].
To avoid spoilers, I crafted a series of “question mark” tokens I could fill in.
Yeah, it’s not the prettiest thing, and it sort of grew like Topsy, but it served my purposes.
You can google Roll20 landing page and actually get a lot of cool examples (and some templates for sale from enterprising entrepreneurs).
There are a number of rules that deal with the basic question of “How do I get past that guy?” Note that all the below are caveated by class or racial powers that may say otherwise. Monks and rogues and some smaller creatures get special abilities to do some of this stuff.
Note also that if you use any of these, you still run the risk of an Attack of Opportunityif, once past, you continue running beyond someone’s reach.
Also, if the either of the opponents here is one of those that does damage to a melee attacker “within five feet,” I would as DM incur that penalty to these maneuvers as well (even if they are not, strictly speaking, melee attacks). In other words, if you are shoving, shoving past, or even tumbling around that flaming guy, you’re going to get burned (and if it’s the flaming guy trying to move through, the target’s going to get burned, regardless of whether the attempt was successful).
The Magic of the Five Foot Square
Guys in a couple of five foot squares
Okay, if you are doing Theater of the Mind, more power to you. I run on a 5-foot square grid.
Obviously a Medium creature (as most players and many opponents are) does not fill the entire square, like some sort of gelatinous cube. Instead, the square represents what war-gamers would call a “zone of control.” A player in a 5-foot square can be anywhere (and, in a sort of quantum fashion, everywhere) within it. Even if you are leaning waaaaaaaay over to one side to shoot arrows at that goblin behind partial cover, you are still blocking that orc from traipsing through the other side of your 5-foot square.
The basic rules of 5e (and D&D in general) is that, with some identified exceptions and weird edge cases, opposed beings cannot occupy the same 5-foot square. So, other than slaying that enemy in your way, how can you get past them?
Here is a summary of the ideas spelled out below …
If you are _____ than your opponent …
… then consider _____.
Bigger
Overrunning
Bigger (a lot) or Smaller (a lot)
Moving Through
Stronger
Shoving, Shoving Aside, or Overrunning
More Agile
Tumbling Past
Moving Through
You can move through a hostile creature’s space only if the creature is at least two sizes larger or smaller than you. Remember that, even in those cases, another creature’s space is Difficult Terrain for you.
Cost: Difficult Terrain movement.
Shoving
There are a couple of possibilities here — a bog-normal Shove attack, or an optional Shove Aside.
Note that in neither case do you need to worry about “Difficult Terrain” as you are never deemed to be in the same square as the enemy (don’t think about it too hard).
If we think of You (Y) doing one of these attacks against the Enemy (E), here is where they would end up with a Shove (S) or an (optional) Shove Aside (A)
S S S
A E A
Y
Shove
You can use a Shove as an attack in the round, pushing the target away from you 5 feet (think of the offensive line in a football game). Once you push them away, you can step into their space and then beyond.
For a Shove, the target can’t be more than one size larger. You as the shover make a Strength (Athletics) roll vs. their (choice of) Strength (Athletics) or Dexterity (Acrobatics).
You could also knock them Prone with a Shove attack but that doesn’t clear out the space for you to move through.
Cost: One Attack.
Shove Aside
This is an Optional Rule on DMG 272: Rather than using a Shove to move someone back (or Prone), you use Shove to move them to the side.
Essentially, this is a more difficult Shove attack, with the same skill comparison, so you as the shover roll at Disadvantage. If successful, the opponent is shoved 5 feet to the side, meaning you can move through their square at no additional movement penalty.
As a DM, the added difficulty seems quite fair and I wouldn’t hesitate to allow this optional rule.
Cost: One Attack.
Tumbling Past
This is an optional rule, so check with your DM first. DMs, this can provide color, but it can also make your sneaky rogue types (who probably have a high DEX) a lot more dangerous.
This can be found in the DMG, page 272: As an Action or Bonus Action, you do a Dexterity (Acrobatics) vs Dexterity (Acrobatics) check; if you win, you can move through the hostile creature’s space (as difficult terrain).
There’s no specific penalty for failure here — except that you’ve burned an Action or Bonus Action, successful or not.
Costs: Action or Bonus Action; Difficult Terrain movement.
Overrunning
Yet another optional rule, on DMG page 272, this is basically just shoving your way past the opponent (or using your Strength to do a Move Through).
As an Action or Bonus Action, you roll a Strength (Athletics) check vs the defender’s Strength (Athletics). You are at Advantage if of a larger size, or Disadvantage if of a smaller size. If successful, you can move through the square (as Difficult terrain).
Cost: Action or Bonus Action; Difficult Terrain movement
But what about Jumping Over them?
The Jumping rules really don’t allow this. Or don’t work well with it.
First, High Jumps don’t help, since they are only up-and-down, according to the rules. (Yes, Olympic High Jumps involve some horizontal distance, though often not much, I don’t think anyone is envisioning jumping backwards over an orc and then landing on their own back on a huge fluffy pad.)
Second — this is not an easy thing to do. Even under highly controlled non-combat situations.
You just can’t jump high enough on a Long Jump to reliably get over an opponent’s head. The height you achieve on a Long Jump, with a successful Strength (Athletics) check vs DC10, is (distance/4) feet; assuming the space a Medium creature controls space is not just 5×5, but 5x5x5, you would need a distance jumped of 20 feet (20/4=5) to get past them (i.e., with a Running Long Jump, that means you’d need a STR of 20).
Magic might help: a Jump spell (or Ring of Jumping) triples your jumping distance, thus your someone with a STR of, say 16, would theoretically be able to Jump 48 feet, clearing 12 feet high …
… although that the irritating Jumping rules still, even with a spell, restrict your Jumping distance to your Speed. If your speed is 30, you can only jump 30 feet (or 20 if you are doing a Running Long Jump that takes a 10 foot run-up). That still lets you clear that 5 foot height (20/4), and it means you only need a Strength 10 to (barely) jump over an opponent. (Speed magic would help here even more.)
That said … is a 5 foot height being the vertical control zone actually a real thing? Eh … given that D&D tends to be a bit vertically challenged in terms of accommodating things that are above ground level, you could argue it for most Medium characters (esp. as weapons and armor aren’t generally pointed at / oriented toward / limber regarding upward attacks). If you remember the Golden Rule that D&D is not a physics simulator (it’s not even a combat simulator), it kinda-sorta works fine.
Since you would be flying over the enemy’s head, there is no Difficult Terrain consideration. Thank goodness for that.
Taller creatures will tend to be Large in Size, and thus fill up (or control) a 10-foot square space (a lot more to jump over), but even if they don’t, maybe the best way to handle it is with a higher DC on that Strength (Athletics) check (DM discretion).
What does happen if that Strength (Athletics) check to jump over something fails? In theory, just as with a non-opponent Long Jump, the jump fails at that point, and you end up, probably Prone, in the square in front of the enemy you tried to jump over. But we’ll leave those esoterica as an exercise for the student.
Sliding past/under, or jumping up-over, a bad guy is a pretty bad-ass cool move, the sort of thing that will have characters (or their players) bragging about over beers for months or years to come.
Which means, on an exceptional basis (e.g., in a boss fight) the DM should probably be willing to bend the rules at least a bit to allow such an attempt, even of the numbers don’t quite work out. The rules are there to let you know what should normally work and what normally shouldn’t. But ultimately, that judgment belongs to the DM — and a balls-to-the-wall unexpected heroic attempt … should get at least a bit of latitude.
There will be SPOILERS. If you are playing in a PotA game, please don’t read this. If you are DMing a PotA game, or are a DM who wants to see what the ride was like … read on!
GM Recap
Session 8 (Day 15)
The heroes traveled to the hilltop where Larmon Greenboot had directed them. They found there the shattered (and only hours-old) body of Larrakh, as well as the hasty graves of a Dwarf craftsman, a Mirabar Army warrior, a Black Earth cultist (buried with their weapon), and a figure dressed in white with feathers on their cloak’s shoulders.
Surmising Larrakh might have been dropped from a great height, they headed toward Feathergale Spire, home of the rich boys’ flying club, the Feathergale Knights.
Approaching openly, they were welcomed in by Savra Hanadroum, the estranged daughter of Haeleeya Hanadroum, and introduced to the master of the club and castle, Thurl Merosska.
They attended the 10th anniversary feast of the Society, where many toasts were made, and the heroes encouraged to tell their stories. Thurl, in turn, talked of the evils lurking in Sumber Hills (and a bit of the History of the Dessarin Valley, in particular the loathed Cult of the Black Earth.
A Manticore was spotted. Theren, William, and Faith joined the night-fogged hunt for the abomination with four of the knights. Our three heroes distinguished themselves in the Manticore Encounter, and William was awarded the reward ring from Thurl. Thurl told them he might have a quest for them to undertake, to be discuss the next day.
As people prepared for sleep, Savra approached Nala and Moony for more info on the Black Earth infiltration of Red Larch. They told her about Larrakh‘s involvement, and their finding his dead body. She invited them to join the Feathergale Knights, that their bravery, honor, and magical abilities would be very helpful, especially as the Knights were learning about the magics of Elemental Air to combat their enemies. Nala declined, courteously, which Savra did not take well.
Player Recap
Lightly traveled road with some small cart paths branching off to homesteads, several of which are abandoned. They meet a couple on a cart with boxes, a shepherd with flock of sheep, and a group of well armed horsemen all heading towards town.
Something suddenly clicks for Faith, the dream from several nights past of being buried in stone until someone comes to help; it is really similar to the rescue of the boy Braelen.
Around mid-day they come across the split tree landmark Larmon told them of and evidence of a flock of sheep passing by. Traveling up the path to the crest of the hill. The path is steep. They are glad that they didn’t try to bring Buttercup and the cart.
On the crest there are four recently dug shallow graves covered in stones plus a fresh body – the center of some vultures’ attention. Shooing away the vulture they move closer and discover it is the body of Larrakh. There is a shattered staff and a broken crystal halberd near by. William examines the body. Larrakh was hit by several arrows and has suffered from a massive blunt force trauma. Looks like he fell from a very great height. Besides some gems and money, he has a chain with the Symbol of the Black Earth and several Mirabar trade bars. Removing the stone mask, Larrakh is still unfamiliar.
Looking around, there is a great view from the hill crest. They can see all the way to Red Larch and the Feathergale Spire to the NW surrounded by large birds.
The group moves onto the cairns. At Nala‘s recommendation, William looks around the site for other tracks. The first grave has a male dwarf in artisan robes. He has no possessions. The second grave has a female warrior in the surcoat of the Mirabar army. The third grave contains a human warrior is a strange stony armor, not unlike Larrakh’s. He is also wearing a necklace with the symbol of the Black Earth and has a short mace at his side. The last grave Human in a white robe with black feathers at his shoulders. All have died of arrow wounds or crushing blows.
William doesn’t find any trails, only broken arrows, a discarded javelin, and a torn grey cloak. Moony notes that the grave of the Black Earth fighter was given obvious deference. The constable had requested that the group determine if any attack was caused by bandits or other things dangerous to the homesteaders. This looks like it will not endanger Red Larch. Because of the connection to Mirabar, the group decides to go to Feathergale Spire to talk the the feather heads and see if they know anything.
The group approaches from the main path along the cliff edge rather than cross-country across the valley. **Insert color text here** The spire looks centuries old but with recent high quality repairs. The drawbridge is up and a couple of guards watch over from the spire crown. There is a bell on this side of the bridge. Moony rings (repeatedly). A woman opens a window from the gate house, greeting travelers, how can I help you? Nala briefly explain why we are here from Red Larch and asks for their assistance. “Your courtesy does us honor. You are welcome.” The bridge is lowered and they are greeted at the large double doors by a finely armored warrior who introduces herself as Savra Hanadroum. Nala introduces herself and the rest of the party. She steps back to allow the party to enter the tower. There are a couple of men in leather armor of a style similar to Savra’s There is a large steel eagle on one wall and fine tapestries on the others. They can see the controls to the bridge and the sturdy locks on the door. She brings they through to a circular staircase. At the top of the staircase is the top of the tower. There are green lawns and a large spyglass.
She introduces them to Thurl Merosska. He is very well dressed, extols the pleasures of flight. The human in the white robe with the black feathers would not be out of place in the tower. Nala describes scenes and asks if they may have seen anything. Thurl suggests that it is a topic better suited at dinner. They are celebrating the feather guild’s 10th anniversary. “Please join me and my knights at dinner tonight.” Thurl describes how the group goes up here to enjoy the wind and view. **Enter pseudo-philosophical crap here.**
Dwarves had built a mighty kingdom here. Their fortress which lay beneath the valley became a home to dark and loathesome creatures. About 600 years ago the Knights of the Silver Horn discovered and explored the ruins. They became quite wealthy and build several towers to keep the valley safe. That lasted for a few generations and then they too fell into disrepair. In our time they were called the Haunted Keeps. When Thurl decided to retire he and his friends decided to claim the tower and rebuild it. (Nala recognizes him now as a famous griffin racer.) Ten years ago today they set the first stone.
It appears that Thurl was not surprised to see the group at the tower. He invites them to take their leave in some room he will arranged for them to stay in. Faith reflects on the conversation with Thurl and feels that he is very happy that we have arrived. Maybe more pleased than the sight of new strangers might warrant. She also thinks that he is definitely dodging the questions about the bodies on the hill crest.
Mooney engages with Savra. He asks if she is related to Haeleya Hanadroum. She blanches slightly and affirms that Haeleeya is her mother. Moony exclaims Haeleeya’s virtue and caring for the community. Savra “Yes, she is caring for many but not all” Then rushes to show them their rooms off of the feasting hall.
The group walks into the first room together. There are two beds, two desks, and to chest. All very sturdy and comfortable. There is a window in the tower wall and tapestries on the others. There is a stack of books on the desk. They are basic books on writing and fighting and one titled Get Yours.
The group quietly discuss what they have learned or discerned. Theren moves to the other room set aside for them. Moony starts exploring the other rooms. One of the knights sitting at the main table, Sir Carelle, walks over to Moony and asks “Would you like me to give you a tour”? Moony immediately takes him up on the offer. When they enter the kitchen there are a few initiates are standing around a cauldron breathing in deeply. “Inhale the steam…Be the steam” Carelle starts to try and explain and Moony interrupts “So secret initiate stuff” Next is the solarium, chill now but would be pleasant in daylight. Carelle says that it is also very Moony compares it to a courtyard in a monastery. Next, the stalls of the lower levers. They continue to discuss the joys of flight and becoming one with your beasts. Finally, they adjourn back up main hall.
Savra comes to the rooms and invites the party to join the celebration. There they meet the other seven knights and Thurl. When everyone is seated, Thurl raise’s his glass with a toast. The table is served by four initiates. The knights praise their mounts, the joys of the sky, Thurl, and their adventures. The wine flows freely. Thurl, notices that Faith is not drinking and asks if the wine is not to her liking. Faith mentions that she doesn’t like wine and settles for water.
The group gives a summary on the bodies on the crest, the bandits on the road, and the hole opening up in the middle of Red Larch with the Dwarf ruins below. Moony leans over to Carelle and describes the adventure with the zombies and unicorns.
Nala notices that there is something odd about the initiates, but she can’t put her finger on it. They aren’t exactly acting like servants or devotees.
When the conversation turns to the graves. Nala describes finding the body of Larrakh and the graves from what appears to be a battle. Thurl: “The situation in the valley is dire. Some days ago there was an incursion, an invasion of murderous thugs, into the land we watch over. They were a cult cover everything over, bind people with shackles of stone. We drove them off to the East. There were 10 or 15. One of our own was lost.”
Nala describes the sighting of the people in the stone masks in Red Larch. Moony ask Carelle about the knight that was killed. He learns that he was not returned to Waterdeep, but Carelle believes that he is free and has joined the spirits of the sky.
Thurl slams the table and declares their support of the town of Red Larch as well as their own valley. ….
An initiate opens the doors and announces that the manticore is on the move again. “Now is the time to kill it for good.” He pulls a large golden ring and offers it as a reward for any who kills the beast.
Faith, Theren, and William join the hunt mounted upon hippogriffs. Faith sights the beast and Blesses the team’s endeavor. She then casts Guiding Bolt at the manticore and makes a critical hit. This is followed by Theren’s Chaos Bolt. When William’s turn comes, he casts Ensnaring Strike and hits the beast with an arrow. The manticore is restrained. He fails to free himself and plummets to the earth. His screams fill the air and he is crushed on the rocks below.
Much huzzahs greet the group as they return to the tower. After cheering their success, Thurl tosses William the promised ring. He totally misses the catch. It is very nice, heavy, gold, with a ruby and feather design. (Value 250g). “My friends you have impressed me, and that is not easily done. I think in the morrow, I can suggest an adventure that will help Red Larch as well as our little valley.”
Savra comes to Moony and Nala’s room begging and then demanding that they join the Feathergale Knights, to become air elementalists to fight the evil earth elementalists. She stormed off when both Moony and Nala said they preferred to keep their feet on the ground and that she should go and speak to Faith, William, and Theren since they actually fought and killed the Manticore.
Moony will be leaving after he no longer hears Savra in the hall so he can tell Faith, William and Theren her offer. Also, he will be trying to investigate the room on the lower level that was not a part of the tour.
Game Notes
The Red Larch vicinity is sideways
Why not create this in landscape orientation?
Nearly all of the maps in the game are oriented Top = North, as is true for most maps people encounter in life.
The “Red Larch Vicinity” map, laying out where some of the side quests out of Red Larch are situated, has North on the right. It confused my players every single time it got pulled up, since being zoomed in on the map to see things meant the compass rose wasn’t necessarily visible.
Is there a reason it’s oriented that way? No. It could just as easily be oriented with Top = North.
(The scale given is also wrong; 1 hex = 1 mile.)
If the map is sideways, their journeying out through it also gave the players a sense of how the Dessarin Valley was “going sideways” — abandoned homesteads (from the weather or the banditry) being a key clue.
The Shallow Graves
So I also created a map for the Shallow Graves setting, finding a random open space map and adding in where the graves were.
You might say, “But, Dave — nothing actually happens there!”
I know. But the problem with only having maps where things happen is that when there’s no map, the players assume, even unconsciously, that nothing is going to happen.
Also, I wanted to give them a visual sense, not just Theater of the Mind, as to the layout, and see how they investigated. Including an occasional, “Okay, where is everyone standing right this moment?” just to keep them on their toes.
The Long and Winding Road of the Mirabar Delegation
The campaign is filled with various notes and clues about what happened to the Mirabar Delegation and when, and, of course, they are scattered about the rule book. But nowhere is a concise, detailed description laid out. That may be why none of it actually makes much sense, both timewise (based on clues and hints various folk pass to the party) and spatially, which becomes even more clear when you map it out. Which Carl Jonard has done:
The biggest issue is if, for some reason, the Delegation went to Beliard, then got pursued and captured by the Black Earth at the identified Ambush Site … how the hell do they get over to the Shallow Graves location to the south of the Sumber Hills — apparently completely bypassing multiple routes over to Sacred Stone Monastery, the Black Earth destination?
(It also didn’t help that the original PotA Dessarin Valley maps had the wrong scale listed on them, and, in the electronic version I received, still do.)
I think even Jonard’s map underplays it, especially as it has the Black Earth party wandering around in the Sumber Hills, but never in the right direction.
Various folk have tried to rationalize this. Here’s my version, which worked well enough (even kinda-sorta time-wise)
The Mirabar Delegation sets forth from (derp) Mirabar. They include both Mirabar and Waterdeep delegates, as well as a Dwarvish Librarian and (last moment) the body of a young knight being sent home Summit Keep and the Knights of Samular. Everyone in Waterdeep is expecting them to just take the Long Road south to Waterdeep. Nobody from Mirabar sends word of any changed plans, despite the urgency of the MacGuffin.
The Delegation turns east off the Long Road at Westbridge, and later arrives in Beliard (other travelers at later times will mention this). The reason for this diversion this is twofold: taking the Knight of Samular back to Summit Keep, and because Teresiel has a supply of magic seeds for Goldenfields, further south (a chance for the dwarves in the group to see the fabulous Stone Bridge might also play into this). The plan is to go down the Dessarin Road to the Keep, continue on down to Womford, Teresiel splits off to Goldenfields, the rest of the Delegation heads up the Cairn Road to Red Larch and the Long Road, and they all meet up back in Waterdeep, easy-peasy.
All the cults have been raiding the valley for prisoners and booty. The reasons are sort of vague — manual labor, human sacrifice, creating an atmosphere of heightened terror upon which their cults can flourish, etc. Whatevs. But they are still operating in secrecy. Each cult has some advantages here:
The Howling Hatred uses aerial forces from Feathergale Spire, giving them speed and mobility.
The Crushing Wave dominates the Dessarin River, a rich trading route.
The Black Earth’s Temple is closest to the surface, making it easier to sent out sorties.
The Eternal Flame uses spies and rumors. They can afford to because they are more powerful.
At any rate, a large Black Earth raiding party intercepts the Delegation, chasing them off the Dessarin Road, killing most of the troops and taking the “important” people hostage.
But then what? The Black Earth raiding party obviously wants to get back to the Sacred Stone Monastery.
They don’t want to travel north — Beliard and the Stone Bridge are choke points and might betray the raiding party’s existence.
They can’t take the road south, because of Summit Hall and the knights there.
Unfortunately the old bridge across the Dessarin River, close to the Monastery is long since fallen. (Note: in retrospect, I would have made that very, very recent, so that it was their planned line of retreat.)
So they go westward, inland, along the traces of ancient dwarvish roads, turn south along the river, skirting past Summit Hall, down to the flats, until they can find (what turns out to be) a Crushing Wave ship to cross the river. The Black Earth and Crushing Wave are … somewhat cooperative, the Crushing Wave folk are always willing to be paid something valuable for service.
For some reason, they don’t book a trip all the way up the river to the base of the old bridge.; maybe it’s just too unwieldy an ascent for a group this size (that’s what I later decided), or maybe the only valuables they have — those antique books — are just enough to pay for a ferry across, nothing more. Or maybe the Crushing Wave have decided to subtly throw some sand into their operation — not block them, but slow them. That sounds like something the crafty Water Cult would do.
The Black Earth know they can circle around to get to the Monastery up the Larch Path, even if that brings them dangerously close to Feathergale Spire and the Howling Hatred. They choose not to cross-country north through the Sumber Hills to the Monastery — perhaps they know about dangers we don’t, or maybe the geography makes it a more difficult journey than it seems.
The worst case scenario happens: the Howing Hatred spot the Black Earth forces making their way cross-country, and attack them. The Howling Hatred take one of the hostages (Deseyna) but are driven off, taking losses. The Black Earth bury the dead (even the fallen air cultist; what better fate, from their viewpoint, than to stuff their body into the earth?) and continue on their way, cutting across to the Larch Path, up and over and around the long way, arriving at the Monastery with their prisoners, some of whom are put to work in the basement mines, some of whom are sent further below …
It’s convoluted and speculative and doesn’t line up well with the timing (though no proposed scenario actually does), but it created a narrative storyline for me to use as a touchstone. The players didn’t necessarily need to know all the details (MacGuffin!), but having the sense that the details made sense was very important.
But what about Larrakh?
In the Campaign As Written (CAW), Larrakh, if he escapes the Tomb, simply vanishes from the narrative.
Ho-hum.
I toyed with the idea at one point that he’d actually been sent to Red Larch as punishment for the fiasco of that Black Earth mission. The timing there never really gelled (it’s unclear how long he’s been in Red Larch, but it’s been longer than that).
But I did speculate on him heading back toward the Monastery after the Tomb fiasco. Rather than the obvious Larch Path, he heads toward Rivergard Keep, planning on booking a one-person passage toward that fallen bridge (where his Spider Climb spell would be very handy.
Alternately, he uses some mystical means to check in and is told to find out what happened to the raiding party at the Shallow Graves, so he heads that way.
One way or the other, he finds the Shallow Graves after the shepherd has come and gone. Unfortunately, he’s also spotted by the Feathergale Knights (telescope!), who come along, grab him, lift him up, and drop him from a very great height.
It was a waste of good bad guy, one one level, but it also provided some closure for the party about the guy who’d nearly taken them out — and indicated that there were other threats out there. It also made the site a bit more layered, with events happening in multiple timeframes.
On to Feathergale Spire!
Feathergale Spire is Backward
Sun from the south, bridge extending … east?
The picture of Feathergale Spire provided as a hand-out for the players shows it anchored to the east side of the valley, illuminated by the sun from the south, the Sumber Hills to the north in the background.
Spire on the west wall, bridge extending left.
The Sighing Valley map shows Feathergale Spire anchored to the west side of the valley. There is talk about parties approaching up a path along the cliff edge, but no path is shown. The southern part of the Sighing Valley is by far the most dangerous (the Manticores, the Griffons), but it would be the first area entered if one approached through the valley; it has that “as you explore further in” vibe, which makes no sense unless it’s actually to the north, but it’s not.
But the Sighing Valley also extends to the north.
Bridge extending west.
The Feathergale Spire dungeon map also shows the tower anchored to the west cliffside.
The Feathergale Spire text talks about the broad valley extending from there to the east.
Oh, and running out of the Sighing Valley is the Lost River … which is, truly, lost, as it shows up on none of the Dessarin Valley maps, nor in any description of the party crossing it or dealing with it as they head toward the Spire.
What a mess.
Feathergale Spire. The right way around.
I tried twisting the map around 180 degrees (with the idea that the river actually gets “Lost” into Knife Edge Gully), but that really didn’t help. In the end I just flipped the handout picture of the Spire on its vertical axis and called it I-hope-nobody-pays-attention.
(For all I know, the art was originally correct and some layout editor flipped it around to make it look “better” in the book, not realizing that obsessive-compulsive DMs would fret so over it.)
Somewhat more useful notes on Feathergale Spire
Feathergale Spire is the first of the Haunted Keeps, the first set of cultists encountered, the first gang of bad guys to engage with that aren’t Red Larch locals.
It’s possible (but probably hard) to stealth or assault the spire from without. An alternative is to decide on a ruse to enter — the CAW always recommends either “We’re bringing a message from Higher Ups,” or “We’re eager recruits” — then strike from within.
For some reason, this party was a bit apprehensive about dealing with these folk in a violent fashion. There were a lot of bad guys, a lot of them mounted on giant birds. The party was only 3rd level (though that’s what this was geared for), so they were leery about confrontation. That would lead to Interesting (and Complicating) Stuff for the DM.
Savra
Savra (in lieu of a “name” token); image from “Goblin Slayer!”
Savra Belabranta is the lieutenant of Thurl Merosska, the top dog at Feathergale Spire. She’s the only other named person in the place, and she greets the party as they arrive.
That is literally the extent of what is written about her.
Bo-ring.
I decided to play on a relationship that they had built up while in Red Larch. There was a woman there named Haeleeya Hanadroum, who ran a dress shop and bathhouse. Some of the party members had gotten pretty close to her.
She’s noted as a foreigner, and I imagined a woman from the south who had married a merchant from Waterdeep, moved with him to Red Larch, and who then, when her husband died, tried to raise their daughter — who was in near-perpetual conflict with her mom, and who, one day, when a dashingly handsome and powerful Feathergale Knight landed in town to get some supplies, rode off with him, leaving her dusty dead-end village behind.
Thus, Savra Belabranta became Savra Hanadroum.
I figured Savra was oriented around a few key points:
Still angry with her mom … but also missing her after a few years.
A go-getter and enterprising lieutenant to Thurl — for whom she has the equivalent of a schoolgirl crush (unrequited, because, I eventually decided Thurl only has eyes for Aerissi Kalinoth, the Prophet of Air, whom he wants to woo, wed, and supplant).
A devotee of the Howling Hatred … but mostly out of rebellion and because that’s what Thurl would want her to be.
In short, Rebellious Teen With Heart Of Gold Joins Local Mob Outfit, Makes Good. That covers all the elements of a potentially tragic or happy ending. My hope was that the party would see her as a sympathetic character, but a potential enemy, but someone they might be able to sway, but still a risk.
It all worked beautifully. Was it essential to the campaign? No, but it made a previously established relationship useful, it gave them a person to talk with and not just a nameless mook, and it helped emphasize the creepiness of the cultist life in a way that felt more real.
The other folk of Feathergale Spire
Thurl Merosska is the rich college jock who had great success in race car driving (or the local griffon-based equivalent), but then nearly lost it all in a crash. He’s now driven by ego, desire, and, under it all, fear. He’s happy to use the Howling Hatred to potentially lord it over all of Faerun — especially if it means he could take over Aerissi’s job, and if it meant that Yan-C-Bin’s power could keep him safe.
He’s horribly deluded, but he’s big and boisterous and charismatic and his own cautionary tale over the power of delusion. Under his command, Feathergale Spire is half sporting club, half cult recruitment station, with the folk trying to join up reduced to silent starvation, and his followers driven to acts of bravado and cruelty.
That said, Thurl is the classic case of the Guy Who Is The Hero In His Own Head. He is very easily able to see his endeavors in a noble fashion; his desire to protect Red Larch as his own little fiefdom is sincere (if exploitative), and his hatred for the antipodal Black Earth cult is fierce and couched not just in elemental antipathy but in the desire to win against the other team.
(Thurl’s efforts to rope the party into the inter-cult warfare isn’t the first time this trope is used in the campaign, but it carries some cachet given that the Black Earth has been doing nefarious things around them so far.)
Thurl also gave me an avenue for doing more infodumping about the history of the Haunted Keeps, even if a bit biased in its presentation.
The rest of the spire is occupied by the Feathergale Knights, almost all of them (Savra is a notable exception) the offspring of wealthy families in Waterdeep, all of them fans of flying mount riding, and all of them bought into the cult conspiracy behind their frat. I gave them all names (conveniently all starting with different letters), mixed up the genders a bit, and wrote out some quick personality notes. I probably went a bit overboard, but since the interactions were everything from riding competitions to the feasting table to potential combat, I wanted the dozen-plus Knights to stand out as at least slightly individuals (especially, as we moved forward, each new set of cultists would become more and more generic, and less and less conversed with).
Not so individual, though, were the Initiates, who are masked, sworn to silence, and basically the grunt workers in the castle. They, too, are wealthy scions and heirs, but have not yet proven themselves. They were damned creepy, once the party knew what to look for. If the Knights were all frat bros (and whatever the female equivalent is) of different types, the Initiates were the people standing over a cooking pot, chanting, “Breathe the steam … be the steam …”
The Initiates are properly labeled “Howling Hatred Initiate” in Roll20 but (a) that’s way too wide for a token on the Roll20 map, and (b) kind of on the nose in telling the players what’s going on here. I renamed them all as “Initiates” (and would do similarly with the low-level mooks of the other cults). Similarly, there’s one “Hurricane” in there — basically the Howling Hatred equivalent of a Monk — which I renamed to “Ascetic” to match the description and mask everything else.
I loved putting in each of the Knights’ rooms, almost like a Gideon Bible, a book called Get Yours, which, when examined, combined the motivational philosophies of Positive Thinking, the Prosperity Gospel, Ayn Rand, and How You Deserve It All. It felt very Howling Hatred-like, along with their constant drumming on mental “freedom” (unless you are an Initiate) and physical “purification” (though the Knights dine quite well).
The cult symbols here were very under wraps — literally. Rather than necklaces or cuff links or something, I had the cultists all regularly scarifying themselves on their chests with the Howling Hatred symbol. When the party finally discovered it, it was quite the moment.
Knights’ Quest
Hey, DMs! Here’s a cool scene where the party gets pulled into a Manticore hunt. Flying. At night. With no rules as to how any of that works. Enjoy!
Holy crap. I was terrified of running this encounter, but it was so cool and so a part of the Thurl vibe, I didn’t dare not. I did a whole bunch of reading about flying combat and 5e (it’s pretty crude), looked at a bunch of home brew rules, and ended up just abstracting the hell out of the actual movement (3D!) of it.
Everyone seemed to have a fun time anyway.
What next?
Thurl is obviously interested in making use of Our Heroes. We’ll see how next time. Of course, I also expected Our Heroes to resist and a big battle for Feathergale Spire to ensue …
This came up in my Princes of the Apocalypse game, related to Earth cult Burrowshark riders atop Bulettes, but the questions discussed apply to random folk on horseback just as much.
An historic note that may be of interest or illumination to some of the questions here: it is said that when the early indigenous peoples of the horse-less Americas — including in the sophisticated realms of the Aztecs and Incas — first saw the Conquistadors on horseback, they thought they were seeing some horrifying human-animal hybrid. The dividing line between the Rider and the Mount is the focus of most of the rules in 5e around mounted combat. As you might expect, the answers are not always intuitive ones, otherwise “anyone could do it.”
Main Caveat
As noted endless times before, D&D 5e is not an accurate simulator of reality; it’s a fairly effective (usable with minimal fiddling) simulator of reality, with just enough verisimilitude to make it both fun and grokkable. Also, even though it’s derived originally from military miniatures combat rules, Napoleon’s Old Guard didn’t have to deal with gigantic flying dragons with Liches riding them, so its miniature/grid rules sometimes get weird.
Second Caveat
A lot of this also depends on playing on a grid (square or hex; the examples I’ll give are for squares). If you are running Theater of the Mind, you can rule on this however you like, and nobody can say you nay.
In other words …
In other words, Rules As Written (RAW) are pretty crappy (or, to be more delicate, inadequate to the task) on this overall subject. Let’s look at them — Mounted Combat rules (PHB 198).
Right. Time for my interpretation.
So here’s my first question: Where is the rider on their larger mount, and how does that attack the rider’s reach and the reach of those around the mount?
Where is the Rider on the Mount?
So, take the image to the right:
The Bulette is a Large creature, and so “occupies” a 10×10 space (4 squares). The Rider is a Medium creature, and so “occupies” a 5×5 space (1 square).
(Note that this would work the same for a Horse (a Large creature) and its Medium Rider.)
So some questions:
In which of the four squares of the Bulette does the Rider actually sit?
How does that affect the Rider’s ability to attack (their reach)?
How does that impact Area of Effect spells that only partially overlap the Mount?
What about Opportunity Attacks against the Bulette — will they also reach the Rider, or only if the Rider is “adjacent” to the attacker?
In the picture, I have the Rider in the upper right corner of the Bulette. The Rider is a 5 foot reach from Initiate 1, but 10 feet from Initiate 2. So …
Can Rider only attack Initiate 1?
Can Initiate 2 only attack the Bulette, not the Rider?
If the Rider wanted to attack Initiate 2, can the Rider just move to the lower left-hand corner of the Bulette? If so, does that cost Movement for the rider, and does it provoke an Opportunity Attack from Initiate 2?
If the Bulette moves one square diagonally down-right, both Initiates could presumably Opportunity Attack the Bulette, and Initiate 1 could Opportunity Attack the Rider … but could Initiate 2 Opportunity Attack the Rider?
If the Mount provokes an opportunity attack while you’re on it, the attacker can target you or the Mount.
But how can that be?
It can be, because where your token is in your occupied area, regardless of size, is an approximation.
As a Medium creature, you “occupy” five feet square of space. But you don’t really occupy that space like a 5×5 wood frame.
Guys in a couple of five foot squares
There’s a lot of space there to shift around in. Heck, if on the opposite sides of the squares, those guys couldn’t even reach each other with swords.
Put another way, a Bulette is not really a circle with a radius of 5 feet. It does not actually occupy a 10×10 foot square.
A Burrowshark (Bulette rider) on a Bulette.
So looking at the picture, a Bulette is pretty wide. But not square. And that’s even more the case for horse. A horse is a Large (10×10) creature for game purposes, but for real purposes it should be more like 5×10.
The area a Large creature takes up (ditto for even bigger categories, but let’s keep it “simple”) is the area it “controls” in game terms, such that you cannot stop within it unless you are two size categories smaller or more. In a quantum sense, the creature exists within that area as an abstraction, a probability field, moving and shifting and occupying all that space such that a horse (or Bulette) can be attacked with 5-foot reach weapons from either side.
(Remember the Main Caveat about D&D rules, above.)
The same is true for the Rider, who exists as an abstract occupant of the entire area of their Mount, moving around as the Mount moves around, attacking and attacked by all 12 adjacent squares. That’s the only way of rationalizing “If the Mount provokes an opportunity attack while you’re on it, the attacker can target you or the Mount” (or the Mounted Combatant feat that lets the Rider force an Opportunity Attack to be on them, not their Mount).
Again, think of a knight on horseback in combat. He’s not sitting there like a 5×5 lump on a 10×10 bigger lump. The horse is wheeling around, rearing, as the knight guides it forward and back and side-to-side and about in circles, raining blows in all directions.
Remember, Facing is an optional rule. If in a six second turn, a creature can attack both front and back, without spending any movement to do so, than the Rider on that creature can do the same.
So to go back to my questions above. In my informed opinion:
The Rider can attack both Initiate 1 and Initiate 2 — and be attacked by them.
If the Rider has the Bulette withdraw, both the Bulette and the Rider can potentially take an Opportunity Attack by either or both Initiates.
Now, as you can imagine, this is not immediately obvious, and not well-spelled out by the rules, and is subject to a lot of varying opinions. D&D 5e Designer Jeremy Crawford has provided a number of guidances here that don’t necessarily agree with my opinion.
Crawford also notes that being on a Mount doesn’t change a Rider’s size. Which I’m okay with, for effects that are determined by size/mass. A Medium Rider doesn’t really become Large, I am just considering them to be anywhere within the Large space occupied by their Mount.
Aura issues get weird — if the Rider has an aura extending ten feet away from them, is their abstracted location all-encompassing (the aura extends from the full Mount, not just a square (the rider) within it? Or do we still pick a square? I don’t have a good answer for that.
AoE issues are also weird — if that Fireball hits one, two, three squares of that four-square mount, does the Rider have to make a save? Or maybe a save at Advantage? Well, the Mount takes full damage and has to make its save. I would suggest that the Rider has to do the same. .
This gets even weirder when you consider long weapons, like lances, which explicitly Disadvantage you if you are attacking a creature five feet away. The only ruling that makes any sense to me here is that if there is a square within the area of the Mount that is ten feet away, then you can control the Mount to be there so that you are not at Disadvantage.
(Note that I keep referring to “you” as the Rider. The rules also apply Uzbarkh the Unholy is the Rider bearing down on you.)
Does this begin to break down when you consider Huge Mounts or above — a character flying on an ancient red dragon is not going to simultaneously be on every square the dragon takes up, for attack or defense right? Except, again, the figures are shown on a grid as squares/circles, which means there’s a presumption of movement within the space, and if a dragon can bite in every direction on its turn, presumably the Rider on its neck can do the same with their sword.
I didn’t do this well when I was overseeing that Bulette battle. Going back to the mounted combat rules in the PHB:
While you’re mounted, you have two options. You can either control the Mount or allow it to act independently. Intelligent creatures, such as dragons, act independently.
You can control a Mount only if it has been trained to accept a rider. Domesticated horses, donkeys, and similar creatures are assumed to have such training. The initiative of a controlled Mount changes to match yours when you mount it. It moves as you direct it, and it has only three action options: Dash, Disengage, and Dodge. A controlled Mount can move and act even on the turn that you mount it.
An independent Mount retains its place in the initiative order. Bearing a Rider puts no restrictions on the actions the Mount can take, and it moves and acts as it wishes. It might flee from combat, rush to attack and devour a badly injured foe, or otherwise act against your wishes.
So, first off are Bulette’s intelligent creatures? The general threshold for Intelligent creatures is INT 4 (Animal Friendship, Awaken, and Detect Thoughts all fail if INT is higher than 3). Bulettes (and Horses) are INT 2, so they are not intelligent.
the GM might call for a Wisdom (Animal Handling) check. You also make a Wisdom (Animal Handling) check to:
control your Mount when you attempt a risky maneuver.
Note that AH is not actual training.You can only control your unintelligent Mount if it has been trained. And for combat purposes, a Mount really needs to be trained to the noise, smells, and pain of combat, otherwise it will be uncontrolled and probably try to run unless you’re spending all your actions on AH (to an unintelligent, untrained Mount, anything in combat is a “risky maneuver”).
To break the above down into a matrix:
Controlled Mount
Independent Mount
Unintelligent Mount
Requires training/AH to accept a Rider.
Use Rider’s Init.
Moves as directed (may need AH for dangerous sitches).
Can only Dash, Engage, Dodge as actions.
Requires some training/AH to accept a Rider.
Has its own Init.
Can move and act as it pleases, including attacks.
With training/AH, can be guided by the Rider.
Intelligent Mount
N/A. Intelligent Mounts are always Independent
Has its own Init.
Can move and act as it pleases.
As it is intelligent, it may coordinate with the Rider if training or communication is possible.
So if we assume that the Burrowsharks have trained their Bulettes to combat (they have, plus there’s some mystic ju-ju going on), then they have two choices:
Keep the Bulette under control. Initiative is synchronized. The Bulette will only Dash/Engage/Dodge, but is unlikely to break, flee, etc.
Let the Bulette be “independent” under its combat training. The Bulette and its Rider have different Initiatives (requiring more coordination), but the Bulette can attack. Note that it may sometimes choose to attack (or dodge, or whatever) differently than the Rider wants. (This is a bit more fuzzy when the GM is running both characters.)
D&D 5e does not, btw, demand DEX (or Athletics) saves for Riders whose Mounts do something the Rider doesn’t expect.
When I first did this kind of thing, I allowed the Bulette to act independently, but synced its Init with the Rider. I also had their attacks probably more coordinated than they should have been (combat training will let the Rider guide the attacks of their unintelligent Mount, just as the Rider can guide their movement, but the Mount remains independent and more likely to snap at what attacks it).
Something else to note here: the restrictions on a Controlled Mount are to Actions. One can posit that a Controlled mount should still have access to Bonus Actions (very rare) and Reactions, including Opportunity Attacks.
This didn’t come up last I ran mounted combats, but it could have. For the record:
If the Mount is moved against its will by an outside force (e.g., a Thunderwave spell), the Rider must make a DC 10 DEX save, or else fall off.
If the rider is knocked Prone by an attack/spell/effect, the Rider must instead make a DC 10 DEX save, or else fall off.
If the mount is knocked Prone, the Rider can use their Reaction to dismount as it falls and land on their feet, or else fall off.
Fall off = land Prone on a space within 5 feet of the mount. The RAW does not address the (very real in historic terms) danger in that last instance of having your mount fall atop you, probably doing substantial damage.
Part of an ongoing series of 5e Rules notes.
