Give me choices!

[ruleslawyer]

The odd race: Gnomes have as good a "mythological" basis as anything in D&D. They are a very well known fantasy creature.

I guess that's where I can't quite agree (specifically, with the "well known fantasy creature"). Even the most casual fantasy reader has some idea of what an "elf" or a "dwarf" is, either from Tolkien, Disney, or Norse mythology (dwarves), or everything from Santa Claus to Keebler to Irish folklore back to Tolkien (elves). Unless you've read Three Hearts and Three Lions, the gnome is either a lawn ornament or a Travelocity ad. Part of the problem is that, in many cases, folkloric "elves" and "gnomes" are the same thing (see JRRT's Book of Lost Tales or the Keebler ads), and the elf appears to have killed the gnome and taken his stuff, terminologically speaking.

[EDIT: Another problem is the association of the gnome with an NPC-type rather than a PC-type. Elves, dwarves, and halflings have the advantage of having PC antecedents in Tolkien's work. Had LotR not existed, I'd suggest that using elves as a PC race actually would have been just as tricky in D&D, since you'd be back to the inscrutable, sinister Sidhe archetype.]

 

[The Little Raven]

This still just blows my mind. How does smacking someone heal another someone?

Oh, magic...

How does rubbing a glass rod with fur produce a 100-foot long lightning bolt?
How does "Bluff bluff bluff the stupid ogre" help convince the ogre to be fooled?
How do creatures that have a ridiculously small wingspan but enormous bodies fly?
How do elves, dwarves, halflings, gnomes, and all kinds of other things exist?

Oh, magic...

(Two can play that game.)

 

[Odhanan]

So, there's only room for one intelligent race in the forest? And only one short race that understands technology?

Because if that's the line in the sand you're drawing, future MM books are going to look pretty funny.

I think gnomes have a hook that works for most of their subraces, and the other cultural stuff can be swept in as secondary:

Gnomes are the equivalent of magical rabbits. They are smaller and weaker than almost everyone else (except for kobolds, whom they compete for living space with -- no one ever remembers that kobolds also live in dark forests per the RAW). EVERYONE can wipe them out if they want to, so gnomes, like rabbits, have learned to hide.

They're not illusionists because they're into Zen Buddhism, as Races of Stone tried to explain. They're illusionists because, if they're not, the local orc tribe will dig them all up and eat them during the next lunar eclipse.

And they're not illusionists in the cold, dry way that D&D magic is often portrayed. It permeates every aspect of their society. They learn tricks to hide their settlements, with secret doors and traps all over the place (albeit less cruel than the ones the kobolds use). They tell tall tales about the size of their settlements and nations, concealing the fact that the local king of the gnomes rules over four families living beneath a single meadow. They use false names and disguises when dealing with outsiders, to effectively increase their numbers. They lie and trick everyone they meet to see how easy they are to fool -- because they have to fool them to survive. Garl Glittergold isn't some Harlequin-style fool, he's El-ahrairah, the rabbit trickster hero from Watership Down. Some of them might even tell the world they're halflings because, you know, they're short and smart-alec and who really checks what race the short guy is?

They speak with animals because even the elves don't worry if a ground squirrel is watching them move through the forest, little realizing that the ground squirrel will pop into a gnome burrow for a treat later on, and tell the gnomes all about the band of elves marching single file through the woods.

They play with clockworks to bolster their numbers and master technology as an outgrowth in their trap-making expertise.

They trade in precious gems to buy the things they need to survive, and they call themselves "forest gnomes" who know nothing about mines and such when they're talking to races that figure a gnome burrow full of gems will be easy to rob.

There's one race of gnomes. They're just not foolish enough to show a single face to the world.

This is awesome.

Thanks for that, Whiz.

 

[Wolfspider]

How does rubbing a glass rod with fur produce a 100-foot long lightning bolt?
How does "Bluff bluff bluff the stupid ogre" help convince the ogre to be fooled?
How do creatures that have a ridiculously small wingspan but enormous bodies fly?
How do elves, dwarves, halflings, gnomes, and all kinds of other things exist?

Oh, magic...

(Two can play that game.)

Even magic has to make sense.

Rubbing a glass rod with fur is sympathetic magic. The fur-rubbing produces static electricity, which is a stand-in for the desired magical effect.

How does bluffing the ogre fool it? The answer to that question seems rather self-apparent.

How do dragons and pixies and nalfanshees fly? The same way Namor does, I guess. Seriously, though, it's the same kind of sympathetic magic that I was talking about earlier. Of course, some beings don't need wings at all to fly....

Anyway, having small wings but being able to fly makes a certain kind of sense. So does rubbing something to produce static electricity while casting lightning bolt.

But this kind of sympathetic relationship does not exist between hitting one person and healing another.

 

[The Little Raven]

Even magic has to make sense.

Wait, what?

The ultimate MacGuffin has to make sense?

Most of D&D magic makes no sense. You can point out sympathetic connections for certain things, but that doesn't explain the majority. Eyebite? Where's sympathy in regards to that? Hell, the name and the description don't even go together: the name sounds like it would be an eye injury, probably causing blindness, but the spell itself is described as "waves of evil.' Umm... what?

Rubbing a glass rod with fur is sympathetic magic. The fur-rubbing produces static electricity, which is a stand-in for the desired magical effect.

How does bluffing the ogre fool it? The answer to that question seems rather self-apparent.

In case you weren't aware, that was an OotS reference, in which the bard uses bardic song to grant a bonus on a bluff roll. Somehow, a guy singing or beating a drum makes you more deceptive, but you can't grasp a paladin striking a person and his god awarding him a favor for doing so.

How do dragons and pixies and nalfanshees fly? The same way Namor does, I guess. Seriously, though, it's the same kind of sympathetic magic that I was talking about earlier. Of course, some beings don't need wings at all to fly....

So, the explanation for why a creature can fly with a wingspan that can't support it is simply a handwave and "Oh, it's magic."

Anyway, having small wings but being able to fly makes a certain kind of sense. So does rubbing something to produce static electricity while casting lightning bolt.

It makes sense if you ignore the laws of reality and just accept that magic does the impossible.

But this kind of sympathetic relationship does not exist between hitting one person and healing another.

I'm a paladin. I serve my god's will by defending the weak and destroying the wicked. And since my god is cool with that and wants me to be successful, he lets me get a two-for-one.

 

[Counterspin]

So what? I'd much rather have interesting tactical choices than internally consistent boring stuff. And I'm not excluding the middle option, interesting consistent stuff, because I just don't care about consistency. Additionally, I don't think magic in D&D has ever had any form of consistency. It has always been a mixture of stuff that people liked in previous editions and some new stuff chosen more or less at random for a mixture of gamist and fluff reasons.

 

[EATherrian]

I've seen you say this many times, about certain classes not having fun in certain encounters but I've yet to understand it. I love playing the Bard, maybe because I like to role-play them so flamboyantly. When I do a bard song, I actually try to make up a song to sing. And then sing it badly. Therefore I have great fun as the bard, usually at the expense of the other players but still. I have fun just playing, I don't have to be the end-all every time to enjoy myself. I guess this is a strange way to play, and might explain why I feel like I have less and less in common with my fellow gamers.

In 1E, Gnomes were sort of like dwarves, except they had some illusionists.
In 2E, Gnomes were illusionists - but illusionists were weak magic-users.
In 3E, Gnomes were sort of like dwarves or elves, except not.
In 3.5E, Gnomes were good bards.

Huh? Where did that last come from?

I'm getting the feeling with 4e races that each of them is very clearly defined. You don't have the gnome, which was some hybrid of the elf and dwarf without any good mythological background to go with it.



The Fighter and Ranger were having fun.

The Cleric and Bard weren't. Well, they were occasionally, but often not.

Here's a typical 3e combat:

Fighter: I hit the monster with my sword.
Wizard: I blow the monster up with my spell.
Rogue: I sneak attack the monster.
Monster: I hurt you all!
Cleric: I... *interrupted by others* "Heal us!"

When a character has to do something to aid another party member instead of the cool thing they could have otherwise done (like cast flame strike), then they lose the opportunity to have fun. Ok, there are some players who enjoy purely being supportive, but they're not universally found in groups - which is why some groups had a lot of trouble getting a cleric.

However, "aid another" effects are good to have around. It's just that they don't work as sole actions. So, by grouping them with a "smite the enemy" action you keep them in the game and allow the cleric, paladin or whoever to still have fun.

Cheers!

 

[Scribble]

Even magic has to make sense.

Rubbing a glass rod with fur is sympathetic magic. The fur-rubbing produces static electricity, which is a stand-in for the desired magical effect.

How does bluffing the ogre fool it? The answer to that question seems rather self-apparent.

How do dragons and pixies and nalfanshees fly? The same way Namor does, I guess. Seriously, though, it's the same kind of sympathetic magic that I was talking about earlier. Of course, some beings don't need wings at all to fly....

Anyway, having small wings but being able to fly makes a certain kind of sense. So does rubbing something to produce static electricity while casting lightning bolt.

But this kind of sympathetic relationship does not exist between hitting one person and healing another.

Only if you specifically decide it doesn't.

In some cultures if you beg a god for help the god will (in their lore) look at you in disdain. If you demand it, or take some action for yourself, the gods will listen and respond.

In other cultures killing an enemy in battle gives you their strength.

What if instead of casting a spell by mumbling a bunch of mumbo jumbo and waving a holy symbol around you cast it through stregth of will. It's not the specific action of hitting someone that causes the healing. it's the boost to your own strength of will that comes from doing what you think your god is approving of.

You think your god is on your side and your enemies are enemies of your god. You hit said enemy with your hammer, thus proving that your god guides your weapon. This boosts your personal divine channeling ability, which manifests as another ally being healed.

Remember magic really truly exists in the world of D&D. It makes much more sense that the things ancient cultures in RL had as superstitions really work, and work in a much more visible fashion in the world of D&D.

 

[EATherrian]

Just in regard to the Fair Folk, and especially as regards the Tuatha de Danaan:

It seems that a big deal of the 4e "feywild", eladrin and elven backgrounds will be taken from such mythological sources. The use of such a background makes me very happy.

Cheers!

This gives a further example to the need for gnomes. The elves and the eladrin to me are the stuck-up version of the fay. The gnomes fill the puckish role. At least that's how I do it in my game-world. Trust me, you'd rather spend time in a gnomish delve than an elvish city. Like a museum those cities are, can't so much as sneeze without reproach.

 

[Scribble]

I've seen you say this many times, about certain classes not having fun in certain encounters but I've yet to understand it. I love playing the Bard, maybe because I like to role-play them so flamboyantly. When I do a bard song, I actually try to make up a song to sing. And then sing it badly. Therefore I have great fun as the bard, usually at the expense of the other players but still. I have fun just playing, I don't have to be the end-all every time to enjoy myself. I guess this is a strange way to play, and might explain why I feel like I have less and less in common with my fellow gamers.

Yeah but the point of a character shouldn't be you can only enjoy it if you like doing stuff "outside of the game."

Annoying the other players isn't in the game. It's an outside of the game event. You can still do that all you want with a character that is still effective "inside of the game."

You can feel free to make up outside of the game benefits to certain characters all you want. But no character should demand it simply because they are ineffective (or less effective) at in game tasks.