Our staff is hard at work playtesting 4th Edition, and each week, we’ll give you a look inside one of our very own D&D games. These articles include plenty of homebrewed material that the players and DMs have made up to suit their own campaigns, just like your games, but we’ll be sure to point out when they’re stretching their creative muscles.
Keep in mind that the game is still in a state of flux, as refinements are made by our design and development staff. You’re getting a look behind the curtain at game design in progress, so enjoy, and feel free to send your comments to
dndinsider@wizards.com.
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June 28th, Thursday Night, Wizards Conference Room (Wayne Manor).
Campaign Arc: Castle Smoulderthorn
DM: Dave Noonan
Players: Bruce Cordell (yours truly), Richard Baker, Logan Bonner, and Toby Latin
Before we begin play, another player is giving Rich grief about one of Rich’s character’s abilities that grants the rest of us a blanket +2 to saves; it just ain’t sexy. Rich says something like, “I don’t know, I doubt I’ll use it that much, but who knows, maybe everyone in the party will get entangled.”
Sure enough, not 10 minutes later this fire-crazed flame priest has entangled half the party with fire snakes! Rich throws up his +2 to saves and, voila, at least two of us get free immediately. I guess that power isn’t so corner case after all.
In my case, I’ve thrown together a “psion.” It’s because prior to the shift to the new playtest rules, I was playing a psion elan named Infandous. You wonder, why the scare quotes? Well, just between you and me, updated-Infandous-the-psion is actually a wizard with the serial numbers filed off.
Anyhow, I missed the last few sessions, so I’m slightly confused when the session begins—apparently the group is still breathing hard from their last session, not even rested or healed, when we hear a shuffle of footsteps from behind a set of double doors. The doors aren’t completely closed, so I “mentally” whip them open from across the room.
Coming down the hallway is a troop of azer, some sort of burning serpent, and the flame priest I mentioned earlier. And it was a fight! And . . . we won. Without really breaking a sweat, either, truth be told.
Emboldened, we advanced down that hallway now littered with azer remains and ash, took a right, and pretty quickly found a dusty lintel inscribed with the words: Tomb of the Black Host.
“Sounds like someplace loot is stored,” said Infandous, eager to expand his repertoire of cool equipment. A little more discussion, and we pushed on the door. It opened . . .
And Dave spent nearly 10 minutes constructing (using Dungeon Tiles!) an ominous, crypt-lined ruin complete with three golden sarcophagi that emanated magic. Dave did a good job laying out the floor plan of the room. Such a good job that we lingered in the door looking into the shadow-lined mausoleum for a minute, then, another . . . then decided as a group that, loot or no loot, perhaps it would be better to let whatever lay in the deathly quite of the tomb alone. So, we closed the door and continued down the main hallway.
Sorry, Dave.
About the Author
The rules have changed a lot since that first idea of the 20-level race, but they still serve the same purpose: to make sure that your race stays not just relevant but actually important all the way up through thirty levels of adventure.