On the initial level most all rules are fully compatible as FantasyCraft and NarutoD20/D20 Modern use the OGl D20 system.
They both utilize the level based Defense attribute instead of AC, simplifying some of it. The following are the first couple of changes to bring the systems together cohesively.
1.) Action Points vs Action Dice: The Action Dice system will port over to a hybrid much more simply than the Action Point system. This brings some advantage to the NarutoD20 rules, as well.
2.) Replace Reputation and Wealth: The FantasyCraft System of Lifestyle and Legend work out a bit smoother with helping shape characters.
3.) Techniques vs Spells: Personally I feel replacing the spell system completely for the Technique System is marvelous. The magical classes from FantasyCraft fit with the game using a Skill Based Casting system, but the spells themselves may need to be altered. As an alternative, the spell system could be left in intact and represents a different theory of magic, (East meets West)
4.) DRmor: Converting all Armor to Damage Reduction instead of Defense is a personal preference of mine.
5.) Bloodlines and ECL: Bloodlines can be converted from level dips to Human Talents relatively easily, just require feat expenditures on the future level dips beyond first. Moujou Aishou is easily replaced by a better feat Animal Partner, with no level loss.
6.) Occupations and Specialty: I may just be a power glutton, but I feel they go together well to bring a starting character closer to a full blown character.
This opens A LOT of areas for abuse, but I would think the potential problems are outweighed greatly by the potential AWESOME.
The only way to refine it, IMO, is to playtest it and make extensive notes about what does and does not work. With all the digital documentation, a possible Play-By-Post or IRC game may be best... or laptops all around, hah.
Monday, November 15, 2010
Random Side Project
Real Life bogging down my creativity for characters at the moment. So I got a wild idea, flipped through some digital pages and realized it's possible, for private use only.
The Naruto D20 System Based upon D20 Modern done by Frankto @
NarutoD20.Org
+
FantasyCraft based upon D&D 3.5 from Crafty Games
An unholy amalgamation that screams "Just Play Exalted!"
Yet, for a fun time killer project, I hope it comes out playable.
The Naruto D20 System Based upon D20 Modern done by Frankto @
NarutoD20.Org
+
FantasyCraft based upon D&D 3.5 from Crafty Games
An unholy amalgamation that screams "Just Play Exalted!"
Yet, for a fun time killer project, I hope it comes out playable.
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
A Center of Silence
"Evening Mechant...."
She still didn't always answer to the name - so very different from her given one, not that anyone living spoke that any longer. The young Changeling pushed a tangle of white hair from her forehead and eyed the pretty Priest's-pet Feign as he sashayed past for the fourth time in an hour. He was oiled and shined and smelled of flowers and incense. Hell, her hands were probably rougher than his, would catch on his pretty clothes if she dared touch him. She flexed her fist, smiling at the warm pain in her knuckles from the last brawl she'd let herself indulge in.
Feign, the Priestess' son. She'd never have imagined it when she came into the dark depths of this place--that this center of backstabbing and lies, manipulations and cross-talk, would hold such a polished jewel of a man.
Despite the fact that she was not, nor ever would be a Drow, and would most likely be found out and killed, Mechant did what all stupid young women do. She let herself fall in love. What was to be a learning excursion, a dare, a venture into the asp's nest, became the happiest years of her life.
When she learned she was with Feign's child, she cried with joy without letting her husband see. A wife, a Mother, her knuckles scarred but no longer bloody. The day of her daughter's birth brought a spark of warmth to her soul, and from then, fire again burned in Mechant's cold heart.
Her daughter, dark-skinned and pale-haired despite the Changeling heritage that must be hidden at all costs, struck a chord with her Grandmother as well. Feign's bitch of a Mother declared her holy to Lloth, and stole her away.
The letters from Feign's Mother began immediately. They knew the girl-child was a Changeling. They had always known...and their plan to breed a Changeling of their own, well...the temptation was too much. This one was to be given over to Llolth and made a drider. The next? Time would tell. And what were her orders, the blackmailed Mother? To bide her time, to keep herself available for further breedings. Fooled from the beginning. Mechant began to waste away, even as Feign's resolve grew stronger, as he spent more and more time away from home. He always returned with stories of training, speaking only of their daughter, and his determination to find her. Nothing was certain anymore, most especially the words of her husband.
The child, her little pale-haired wonder, was no longer hers. That hot spark that had illuminated Mechant's life briefly flared to fitful, desperate life, and died a cold, silent death in her breast as she packed her things. She'd be no plaything. If Feign's Mother had known, then who's to say he hadn't been in on the whole thing from the beginning? Where was he now, her soft, sweet-smelling bedmate? Always away. Always doing something elsewhere. Probably laughing at his good fortune and bemoaning having to bed a Face-Changer.
She would find solace again in physicality, violence was an unsubtle dance that she knew well, and would lose herself in again. No more political maneuverings. No more talk.
Weeks upon weeks of nonstop illegal paid brawls and mercenary runs of dubious intent found her deep within the vast forest, lost and enraged at the world. Nature felt her wrath, and as darkness gave way to green-tinted dawn, the woman-creature who was once Mechant beheld a solitary hooded figure. It held out a single clawed hand, beckoning.
Her first instinct was to attack, to rend, to pour out her considerable anger upon this lone enemy.
A bestial growl emanated from the hood, and she woke three days later, cleaned and clothed and with flashes of sharp fangs and kind golden eyes.
"There is another way." came the soothing, rough voice, tinged with animal violence of it's own....yet strangely contained. Balanced.
Life needn't be cold, she needn't pour the heat of rage into herself to begin to feel again.
Slowly, she learned another way. There was violence in nature, yes. Enough to satisfy her. There was also creation, protection, nurturing.
Mechant faded away, as easily shed as the Drow disguise she'd long-ago abandoned.
In her place, Niraj.
She still didn't always answer to the name - so very different from her given one, not that anyone living spoke that any longer. The young Changeling pushed a tangle of white hair from her forehead and eyed the pretty Priest's-pet Feign as he sashayed past for the fourth time in an hour. He was oiled and shined and smelled of flowers and incense. Hell, her hands were probably rougher than his, would catch on his pretty clothes if she dared touch him. She flexed her fist, smiling at the warm pain in her knuckles from the last brawl she'd let herself indulge in.
Feign, the Priestess' son. She'd never have imagined it when she came into the dark depths of this place--that this center of backstabbing and lies, manipulations and cross-talk, would hold such a polished jewel of a man.
Despite the fact that she was not, nor ever would be a Drow, and would most likely be found out and killed, Mechant did what all stupid young women do. She let herself fall in love. What was to be a learning excursion, a dare, a venture into the asp's nest, became the happiest years of her life.
When she learned she was with Feign's child, she cried with joy without letting her husband see. A wife, a Mother, her knuckles scarred but no longer bloody. The day of her daughter's birth brought a spark of warmth to her soul, and from then, fire again burned in Mechant's cold heart.
Her daughter, dark-skinned and pale-haired despite the Changeling heritage that must be hidden at all costs, struck a chord with her Grandmother as well. Feign's bitch of a Mother declared her holy to Lloth, and stole her away.
The letters from Feign's Mother began immediately. They knew the girl-child was a Changeling. They had always known...and their plan to breed a Changeling of their own, well...the temptation was too much. This one was to be given over to Llolth and made a drider. The next? Time would tell. And what were her orders, the blackmailed Mother? To bide her time, to keep herself available for further breedings. Fooled from the beginning. Mechant began to waste away, even as Feign's resolve grew stronger, as he spent more and more time away from home. He always returned with stories of training, speaking only of their daughter, and his determination to find her. Nothing was certain anymore, most especially the words of her husband.
The child, her little pale-haired wonder, was no longer hers. That hot spark that had illuminated Mechant's life briefly flared to fitful, desperate life, and died a cold, silent death in her breast as she packed her things. She'd be no plaything. If Feign's Mother had known, then who's to say he hadn't been in on the whole thing from the beginning? Where was he now, her soft, sweet-smelling bedmate? Always away. Always doing something elsewhere. Probably laughing at his good fortune and bemoaning having to bed a Face-Changer.
She would find solace again in physicality, violence was an unsubtle dance that she knew well, and would lose herself in again. No more political maneuverings. No more talk.
Weeks upon weeks of nonstop illegal paid brawls and mercenary runs of dubious intent found her deep within the vast forest, lost and enraged at the world. Nature felt her wrath, and as darkness gave way to green-tinted dawn, the woman-creature who was once Mechant beheld a solitary hooded figure. It held out a single clawed hand, beckoning.
Her first instinct was to attack, to rend, to pour out her considerable anger upon this lone enemy.
A bestial growl emanated from the hood, and she woke three days later, cleaned and clothed and with flashes of sharp fangs and kind golden eyes.
"There is another way." came the soothing, rough voice, tinged with animal violence of it's own....yet strangely contained. Balanced.
Life needn't be cold, she needn't pour the heat of rage into herself to begin to feel again.
Slowly, she learned another way. There was violence in nature, yes. Enough to satisfy her. There was also creation, protection, nurturing.
Mechant faded away, as easily shed as the Drow disguise she'd long-ago abandoned.
In her place, Niraj.
From the Depths of Evil
The story of Feign starts amongst a life of debauchery. He was pretty, wealthy, and spoiled. Feign was the privileged son of a priestess, living the life as a servant to the temple, providing for all of the needs of the priestesses.
A new temple guard had arrived, a lovely young Drow. Mechant was perfect in every way. She didn't care about the temple, only her duties. A skilled and aloof soldier with a preference to bare-knuckled brawling.
Mechant was like nothing Feign had ever seen and he had to have her. This is no love story, so let us skip down the road. They went so far as to marry, at the disgrace of his mother. Mechant was no noble woman with no political worth. Marrying Feign got her into the political games.
After several years, they gave birth to a lovely daughter. Feign's mother came before them, pronouncing the child as destined and property of Llolth. There was nothing that could be done, the child was to be taken away to be raised by the temple.
Something broke in Feign that day. He had a secret, something that gave him an edge in his life up to this point and would no be his unmaking. He had a Wild Talent, raw psionic power. No longer would he choose to be passive in his manipulations.
Feign dedicated the next several years to perfecting his talent, he had a goal and would obtain it. Insinuating himself deeper into the temple, he found out of his daughter and her fate. No longer his sweet child, she had been turned into a slave of Llolth, a drider.
Finally the time came, he broke the will of one of the priestesses, gaining mental domination of her. Using her, he was able to get to his daughter. She was a miserable little monster, evil to the core. He tried to speak with her, explain who he was. She laughed at him, and made fun of his weak sentiments.
He knew no other option, slaying the young priestess he commanded all of his power and made his daughter a Thrall. A permanent mind-slave.
Now a murderer, kidnapper, and having commited something truly vile, Feign knew he must escape. Ruturning home to get Mechant and some supplies, he found their home empty. Mechant was gone. Was she kidnapped, killed, did she run away?
All he knew was that he had to escape with his daughter, he had no other choice, or they would both die. They ran until they found their first bit of hope, the surface.
A new temple guard had arrived, a lovely young Drow. Mechant was perfect in every way. She didn't care about the temple, only her duties. A skilled and aloof soldier with a preference to bare-knuckled brawling.
Mechant was like nothing Feign had ever seen and he had to have her. This is no love story, so let us skip down the road. They went so far as to marry, at the disgrace of his mother. Mechant was no noble woman with no political worth. Marrying Feign got her into the political games.
After several years, they gave birth to a lovely daughter. Feign's mother came before them, pronouncing the child as destined and property of Llolth. There was nothing that could be done, the child was to be taken away to be raised by the temple.
Something broke in Feign that day. He had a secret, something that gave him an edge in his life up to this point and would no be his unmaking. He had a Wild Talent, raw psionic power. No longer would he choose to be passive in his manipulations.
Feign dedicated the next several years to perfecting his talent, he had a goal and would obtain it. Insinuating himself deeper into the temple, he found out of his daughter and her fate. No longer his sweet child, she had been turned into a slave of Llolth, a drider.
Finally the time came, he broke the will of one of the priestesses, gaining mental domination of her. Using her, he was able to get to his daughter. She was a miserable little monster, evil to the core. He tried to speak with her, explain who he was. She laughed at him, and made fun of his weak sentiments.
He knew no other option, slaying the young priestess he commanded all of his power and made his daughter a Thrall. A permanent mind-slave.
Now a murderer, kidnapper, and having commited something truly vile, Feign knew he must escape. Ruturning home to get Mechant and some supplies, he found their home empty. Mechant was gone. Was she kidnapped, killed, did she run away?
All he knew was that he had to escape with his daughter, he had no other choice, or they would both die. They ran until they found their first bit of hope, the surface.
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
The Dark Sand Raiders
Our intrepid party of adventurers are forming under the illustrious banner of The Dark Sand Raiders. Not by their choice mind you. The Fierce Mul, Crimson Fang Korr, is the Captain of their Silt Strider ship, which they use to travel the desert wastes of this world.
Adding to the crew so far,
Crimson Fang Korr, Ex-Gladiator Mul now serves as the captain of the Dark Sands. Brandishing two jagged stone hatchets, he has no qualms about fighting dirty, as long as he walks away from the fight, it was a 'fair' fight.
A Freeborn Mul, this nomad wanders the wastes freely staff in hand. Little is known of this wanderer, but they do join up with the Dark Sands for the occasional mission to earn some provisions and then disappear back into the wastes.
A sand running courier, this one handles many of the deliveries and emergency supply pick ups for the crew. A real beast in combat, this sand runner moves like the wind.
Adding to the crew so far,
Crimson Fang Korr, Ex-Gladiator Mul now serves as the captain of the Dark Sands. Brandishing two jagged stone hatchets, he has no qualms about fighting dirty, as long as he walks away from the fight, it was a 'fair' fight.
A Freeborn Mul, this nomad wanders the wastes freely staff in hand. Little is known of this wanderer, but they do join up with the Dark Sands for the occasional mission to earn some provisions and then disappear back into the wastes.
A sand running courier, this one handles many of the deliveries and emergency supply pick ups for the crew. A real beast in combat, this sand runner moves like the wind.
Monday, November 8, 2010
Rule of Cool
The First, Last, and Final Arbiter of any rule call I make. This takes Rule Zero and Stunt Systems to new levels. Not merely satisfied to give you a +2 or +1 die to a roll for a good description, you can potentially break the laws of reality if your description is awesome enough. This applies not only to actions but to characters as well.
The reason I do this is to encourage the MOST important thing about table top RPGs... Imagination. If I wanted to play a rigid rule set, I could play a computer game and have better graphics. I want a chance to pretend all those amazing things that I wish I could be doing in those games.
The reason I do this is to encourage the MOST important thing about table top RPGs... Imagination. If I wanted to play a rigid rule set, I could play a computer game and have better graphics. I want a chance to pretend all those amazing things that I wish I could be doing in those games.
House Rule: Improvised Excellence
In an attempt to provide proper flavor and opportunities for amazing story, I will be incorporating the following rule in the Dark Sun game;
Choose a single weapon your character is proficient in, you can know quickly cobble together improvised versions of that weapon. The improvised weapon functions in every way as the actual weapon, including allowing you to use all appropriate feats and abilities with it.
This is to go along with the Dark Sun Weapons Breakage Rule and Innate Enhancements;
Innate Enhancements: All characters gain an innate Enhancement Bonus to Attack, Damage, and Defenses based upon their level.
Attack and Damage: +1 at 2nd, 7th, 12th, 17th, 22nd, 27th
Defenses: +1 at 4th, 9th, 14th, 19th, 24th, and 29th
Weapon Breakage: On a roll of a Natural 1 your weapon breaks. You may choose to reroll your To Hit or Damage roll once at the expense of your weapon breaking.
Choose a single weapon your character is proficient in, you can know quickly cobble together improvised versions of that weapon. The improvised weapon functions in every way as the actual weapon, including allowing you to use all appropriate feats and abilities with it.
This is to go along with the Dark Sun Weapons Breakage Rule and Innate Enhancements;
Innate Enhancements: All characters gain an innate Enhancement Bonus to Attack, Damage, and Defenses based upon their level.
Attack and Damage: +1 at 2nd, 7th, 12th, 17th, 22nd, 27th
Defenses: +1 at 4th, 9th, 14th, 19th, 24th, and 29th
Weapon Breakage: On a roll of a Natural 1 your weapon breaks. You may choose to reroll your To Hit or Damage roll once at the expense of your weapon breaking.
Sunday, November 7, 2010
A Brief Rundown of Options
For the Dark Sun game I am currently running, here is a brief list of races and classes to help you get an idea of what you could play. Feel free to contact me for more details and we can work out your character's path to Awesome!
Races
Dray - Dragon People
Dwarf - Only balder and angrier
Eladrin - Mystical Elves from cities lost in mirage.
Elf - Desert Wanderers, Merchants and Thieves
Half-Elf
Half-Giant - Bigger Battle Slaves.
Halfling - Feral Cannibalistic Savage Pygmies
Human - Human
Mul - Battle Slaves - Half Dwarves
Thri-Kreen - 4-Armed Mantis People
Tiefling - Devils amongst the sands.
Others may exist wandering the burning sands of this world.
Classes by Power Source
Arcane
- Bard - Leader
- Sorceror - Striker
- Swordmage - Defender
- Warlock - Striker
- Wizard - Controller
Divine
- Avenger - Striker
- Cleric - Leader
- Invoker - Controller
- Paladin - Defender
- Rune Priest - Leader
Martial
- Fighter - Defender / Striker
- Ranger - Striker
- Rogue - Striker
- Warlord - Leader
Primal
- Barbarian - Striker
- Druid - Controller
- Seeker - Controller
- Shaman - Leader
- Warden - Defender
Psionic
- Ardent - Defender
- Battlemind - Leader
- Monk - Striker
- Psion - Controller
Shadow
- Assassin - Striker
Races
Dray - Dragon People
Dwarf - Only balder and angrier
Eladrin - Mystical Elves from cities lost in mirage.
Elf - Desert Wanderers, Merchants and Thieves
Half-Elf
Half-Giant - Bigger Battle Slaves.
Halfling - Feral Cannibalistic Savage Pygmies
Human - Human
Mul - Battle Slaves - Half Dwarves
Thri-Kreen - 4-Armed Mantis People
Tiefling - Devils amongst the sands.
Others may exist wandering the burning sands of this world.
Classes by Power Source
Arcane
- Bard - Leader
- Sorceror - Striker
- Swordmage - Defender
- Warlock - Striker
- Wizard - Controller
Divine
- Avenger - Striker
- Cleric - Leader
- Invoker - Controller
- Paladin - Defender
- Rune Priest - Leader
Martial
- Fighter - Defender / Striker
- Ranger - Striker
- Rogue - Striker
- Warlord - Leader
Primal
- Barbarian - Striker
- Druid - Controller
- Seeker - Controller
- Shaman - Leader
- Warden - Defender
Psionic
- Ardent - Defender
- Battlemind - Leader
- Monk - Striker
- Psion - Controller
Shadow
- Assassin - Striker
Dark Sun in a Few Words
The setting is Dark Sun.
The world is Post Apocalypse Fantasy.
Magic has destroyed nearly all natural life on the planet, leaving it a barren wasteland. The cities are ruled by tyrannical sorcerers and psychics. Slave trade and Gladiatorial fights are common place. All most people can do is try and survive long enough to see the world end. But in the bleak land, true heroes can arise and challenge even death itself to try and save the world...
if the Dragon Kings don't stop them first.
The world is Post Apocalypse Fantasy.
Magic has destroyed nearly all natural life on the planet, leaving it a barren wasteland. The cities are ruled by tyrannical sorcerers and psychics. Slave trade and Gladiatorial fights are common place. All most people can do is try and survive long enough to see the world end. But in the bleak land, true heroes can arise and challenge even death itself to try and save the world...
if the Dragon Kings don't stop them first.
Narrative Causality
"Things happen because the plot says they should.
All fictional realities have this underlying principle to one degree or another.
It is the reason Plot Technology and Plot Armor work. It's why the hero always succeeds where many before him have failed. It's why it seems like the world's out to get the protagonist. It's why the reasonable explanation is almost never true. Reality itself is mutable before the will of the plot.
Of course, it's always possible that amazing things don't happen to the main characters because they're the main characters, but that they're the main characters because amazing things happen to them. After all, stories tend to gravitate to remarkable figures."
Quoted from Theory of Narrative Causality
All fictional realities have this underlying principle to one degree or another.
It is the reason Plot Technology and Plot Armor work. It's why the hero always succeeds where many before him have failed. It's why it seems like the world's out to get the protagonist. It's why the reasonable explanation is almost never true. Reality itself is mutable before the will of the plot.
Of course, it's always possible that amazing things don't happen to the main characters because they're the main characters, but that they're the main characters because amazing things happen to them. After all, stories tend to gravitate to remarkable figures."
Quoted from Theory of Narrative Causality
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