Medallions d20 Modern (Update Wednesday 09-20-06)
- Thread starter Old Drew Id
- Start date
Old Drew Id
First Post
Sidebar: Rules for Spellcasting in Medallions
Since there appears to be some interest in this file, here are the rules that I put gave the players for spellcasting in Medallions.
The goal of these rules was to evoke a certain "feeling" and "tone" of magic. Despite the existence of hard-coded game rules for spellcasting, I wanted magic to remain mysterious, unpredictable, rare, shadowy, and dangerous. At the same time, I wanted the rules to encompass all possible magical "traditions" within the game world, from Voodoo to Kabbalah.
So, these rules make it slow to learn magic, dangerous to cast, and costly to maintain. That's pretty close in actual play to what I wanted.
The second half of this (the other side of the Medallion, if you will
), is the spell list. Because choosing what spells are in the game makes a huge difference in that tone that I was just talking about.
The first nice part of this design for me, as DM, is that I get to choose and specifically design or re-design every spell that goes into the game. No splatbooks, no unexpected errata, etc. In one fell swoop, no divinations or evocations, just like that. No spells that directly cause damage as their only function. No spells that replace the use of skills. No spells that are potential game breakers. Nothing that is cool but just too flashy. And for other spells, I can up the cost or the level as needed, or throw in little twists to them to keep them interesting.
The second nice part of this design is that the players have no knowledge of the spell list, beyond that knowledge. Is there a Raise Dead spell? They don't know. Are there any spells above third level? They don't know. It is all unknown, and therefore mysterious.
Finally, a quick word on magic items, since I am doing the sidebar thing anyway: The players are unaware of any rules, if they exist, for magic item creation. They do not know where the Dealer gets his items or how they are made. This makes each trip to the Dealer a lot of fun because they really are ooh-ing and aah-ing over anything he pulls out, because they have no expectations for how things work or what kinds of things are available for sale.
Anyhow, enough of me jabbering on, here's the doc. (And thanks for reading.)
Since there appears to be some interest in this file, here are the rules that I put gave the players for spellcasting in Medallions.
The goal of these rules was to evoke a certain "feeling" and "tone" of magic. Despite the existence of hard-coded game rules for spellcasting, I wanted magic to remain mysterious, unpredictable, rare, shadowy, and dangerous. At the same time, I wanted the rules to encompass all possible magical "traditions" within the game world, from Voodoo to Kabbalah.
So, these rules make it slow to learn magic, dangerous to cast, and costly to maintain. That's pretty close in actual play to what I wanted.
The second half of this (the other side of the Medallion, if you will
), is the spell list. Because choosing what spells are in the game makes a huge difference in that tone that I was just talking about. The first nice part of this design for me, as DM, is that I get to choose and specifically design or re-design every spell that goes into the game. No splatbooks, no unexpected errata, etc. In one fell swoop, no divinations or evocations, just like that. No spells that directly cause damage as their only function. No spells that replace the use of skills. No spells that are potential game breakers. Nothing that is cool but just too flashy. And for other spells, I can up the cost or the level as needed, or throw in little twists to them to keep them interesting.
The second nice part of this design is that the players have no knowledge of the spell list, beyond that knowledge. Is there a Raise Dead spell? They don't know. Are there any spells above third level? They don't know. It is all unknown, and therefore mysterious.
Finally, a quick word on magic items, since I am doing the sidebar thing anyway: The players are unaware of any rules, if they exist, for magic item creation. They do not know where the Dealer gets his items or how they are made. This makes each trip to the Dealer a lot of fun because they really are ooh-ing and aah-ing over anything he pulls out, because they have no expectations for how things work or what kinds of things are available for sale.
Anyhow, enough of me jabbering on, here's the doc. (And thanks for reading.)
carpedavid
First Post
Excellent, and very interesting...
When I run my d20 Modern horror game, I may very well use these rules.
Thanks!
When I run my d20 Modern horror game, I may very well use these rules.
Thanks!
RedAnt
First Post
Interesting. Very interesting. I've been turning ideas for a d20 modern game around in my head for a while now, but I was worried it would feel too much like D&D. I'd been thinking about importing the magic system from the Midnight campaign setting - which is also non-Vancian and also involves a physical cost - but this, I think, is even nicer.
But I wonder: do these rules apply to NPCs as well? Are there no spellcasting classes at all, or simply none available to PCs?
You seriously need to start a Rogue's Gallery thread so we can talk. Nawmsayin?
But I wonder: do these rules apply to NPCs as well? Are there no spellcasting classes at all, or simply none available to PCs?
You seriously need to start a Rogue's Gallery thread so we can talk. Nawmsayin?
Thanks for the spell rules Drew. I am converting The Killing Jar module by Bruce Cordell. The one he did for Dark*Matter. I want to run my d20M group through it. I don't know how I am going to handle the FX portion of the Alternity rules. I do, however, want to take what you have done and use it somehow.
Thanks again for the great story and hard work.
Thanks again for the great story and hard work.
Old Drew Id
First Post
Session 3 (5/21/2003) Car Chase
Session 3 (5/21/2003) Car Chase
“Follow that van!” Joe bellowed, and for a moment, Brother Cooper felt just like Dave Starsky as he stomped on the gas and turned the key in the ignition.
Unfortunately, his ’81 Ford F-150 felt nothing like a Gran Torino as it made a whining gasping noise before falling silent.
Brother Cooper groaned and muttered a quick prayer under his breath before turning the key again. Again, a thin whining sound and no ignition. One more time, but again, no luck. He turned to look over at Joe, only to find the seat next to him empty and smelling only vaguely of Cheetos.
Brother Cooper turned to look outside, and saw Joe standing at the driver’s side door. “Let me drive,” he mouthed, as he pointed to himself and then the steering wheel.
Brother Cooper sighed wearily, gave up, and nodded. He unlocked his door for Joe and then slid over to the passenger side. Before he could get the seatbelt around his girth, Joe was inside, the engine was roaring and the tires peeled out as the truck lurched forward onto the street.
“Joseph…watch the median, Joseph!….whoa! Okay, slow down, Joseph….watch the curb, Joseph! The curb, Joseph! THE CURB JOE!” Brother Cooper yelled as he tried in vain to get his seatbelt connected. Where the hell (sorry Lord) was the stupid connector? Was he sitting on it? He looked up again and immediately wished he hadn’t as a city bus shot past the truck and careened off to one side as Joe cut across two lanes of traffic.
“Slow down, Joseph!” Brother Cooper stopped watching the road for a minute and continued to look for the other half of his seat belt. He was gonna die in here, in his own truck, with a maniac behind the wheel, because he couldn’t find a little strap…there it was. He snapped the two sockets together, only to find that they didn’t even fit. Apparently this was the connector to that middle seatbelt, and the one on his side was still missing. He was suddenly jolted backwards as the truck went over a huge bump in the road. He looked up from his search for a seatbelt again and said, “Look, Joseph, at least let me get my seatbel---SWEET MOTHER OF HOLY----”
The pick-up truck missed the side of a parked street-sweeper truck by about one inch, scraping the side-view mirror off the driver’s side in an explosion of sparks and shattering glass. Joe cut the wheel sharply and Guyzell was again thrown to the left as the truck leapt up onto an on-ramp to head down Highway 31.
Here, laying halfway down in the seat, Brother Cooper was close enough to hear Joe muttering under his breath, “yeah darling gonna make it happen…take the world in a love embrace…”
“Have you lost your mind?! Joseph, I’ve had this truck twenty years, and I’ve never gone this fast! Slow down and JOE WATCH OUT FOR THAT CAR!”
A horn blared and tires screeched in protest as a little sedan dodged out of their lane a half-second before Joe would have driven straight through it. The white van was up ahead, and judging from its speed, the driver had seen that Joe was in pursuit and was trying to lose them.
Brother Cooper slid back over to his own side and dug for the seatbelt between the seat cushions. He found it at last, and got himself strapped in. He felt better now. They were still going way too fast, careening down the highway after the van, but at least now he was strapped in. He looked up as Joe whipped around an eighteen-wheeler, in time to see the driver of the van leaning out of his window.
He was a middle-aged man, wearing a ragged cap, with the wind whipping his hair around violently. In his hand was a revolver, aimed back at the truck. He fired twice in rapid succession. A bullet shattered the windshield, spider-webbing the glass and obscuring all vision.
Joe was cursing, and amazingly, accelerating even further. Brother Cooper punched open the glove box and pulled out his travel bible. The ride was way too shaky for actual reading, but it felt better to hold it in his hands. He began praying aloud. “Lord, you told us in Leviticus, ‘You will pursue your enemies, and they will fall by the sword before you’. Please guide us in our pursuit, and protect us---”
“HANG ON!” Joe yelled, and cut the wheel. Brother Cooper just had time to get a one-hand grip on the “Oh Lord” handle above his door (he refused to call it anything else) before the truck cut sharply to one side and then slid sideways to a stop in front of the oncoming van. Brother Cooper looked out his side window directly at the face of the man in the van as he jerked the wheel of the van at the last second and rammed the van head-on into a concrete bunker beside the truck. The van loudly crumpled into a ball of twisted metal. Smoke and steam poured out from the wreckage, and Brother Cooper could see the driver’s bloody body hanging half-in and half-out of the van’s shattered windshield.
“Yes! Just like Vice City!” Joe giggled, and pumped his fist victoriously in the air.
Brother Cooper looked over at him in shock.
“You know, Playstation 2?”
Brother Cooper looked back at the bloody corpse hanging out of the van beside him, and then again at Joe’s wide grin, completely speechless.
“Jeez, preacher, you need to get out more. Come on, we need to search the wreck before the cops get here. And find out on the radio what’s going on back at the Science Center!”
Session 3 (5/21/2003) Car Chase
“Follow that van!” Joe bellowed, and for a moment, Brother Cooper felt just like Dave Starsky as he stomped on the gas and turned the key in the ignition.
Unfortunately, his ’81 Ford F-150 felt nothing like a Gran Torino as it made a whining gasping noise before falling silent.
Brother Cooper groaned and muttered a quick prayer under his breath before turning the key again. Again, a thin whining sound and no ignition. One more time, but again, no luck. He turned to look over at Joe, only to find the seat next to him empty and smelling only vaguely of Cheetos.
Brother Cooper turned to look outside, and saw Joe standing at the driver’s side door. “Let me drive,” he mouthed, as he pointed to himself and then the steering wheel.
Brother Cooper sighed wearily, gave up, and nodded. He unlocked his door for Joe and then slid over to the passenger side. Before he could get the seatbelt around his girth, Joe was inside, the engine was roaring and the tires peeled out as the truck lurched forward onto the street.
“Joseph…watch the median, Joseph!….whoa! Okay, slow down, Joseph….watch the curb, Joseph! The curb, Joseph! THE CURB JOE!” Brother Cooper yelled as he tried in vain to get his seatbelt connected. Where the hell (sorry Lord) was the stupid connector? Was he sitting on it? He looked up again and immediately wished he hadn’t as a city bus shot past the truck and careened off to one side as Joe cut across two lanes of traffic.
“Slow down, Joseph!” Brother Cooper stopped watching the road for a minute and continued to look for the other half of his seat belt. He was gonna die in here, in his own truck, with a maniac behind the wheel, because he couldn’t find a little strap…there it was. He snapped the two sockets together, only to find that they didn’t even fit. Apparently this was the connector to that middle seatbelt, and the one on his side was still missing. He was suddenly jolted backwards as the truck went over a huge bump in the road. He looked up from his search for a seatbelt again and said, “Look, Joseph, at least let me get my seatbel---SWEET MOTHER OF HOLY----”
The pick-up truck missed the side of a parked street-sweeper truck by about one inch, scraping the side-view mirror off the driver’s side in an explosion of sparks and shattering glass. Joe cut the wheel sharply and Guyzell was again thrown to the left as the truck leapt up onto an on-ramp to head down Highway 31.
Here, laying halfway down in the seat, Brother Cooper was close enough to hear Joe muttering under his breath, “yeah darling gonna make it happen…take the world in a love embrace…”
“Have you lost your mind?! Joseph, I’ve had this truck twenty years, and I’ve never gone this fast! Slow down and JOE WATCH OUT FOR THAT CAR!”
A horn blared and tires screeched in protest as a little sedan dodged out of their lane a half-second before Joe would have driven straight through it. The white van was up ahead, and judging from its speed, the driver had seen that Joe was in pursuit and was trying to lose them.
Brother Cooper slid back over to his own side and dug for the seatbelt between the seat cushions. He found it at last, and got himself strapped in. He felt better now. They were still going way too fast, careening down the highway after the van, but at least now he was strapped in. He looked up as Joe whipped around an eighteen-wheeler, in time to see the driver of the van leaning out of his window.
He was a middle-aged man, wearing a ragged cap, with the wind whipping his hair around violently. In his hand was a revolver, aimed back at the truck. He fired twice in rapid succession. A bullet shattered the windshield, spider-webbing the glass and obscuring all vision.
Joe was cursing, and amazingly, accelerating even further. Brother Cooper punched open the glove box and pulled out his travel bible. The ride was way too shaky for actual reading, but it felt better to hold it in his hands. He began praying aloud. “Lord, you told us in Leviticus, ‘You will pursue your enemies, and they will fall by the sword before you’. Please guide us in our pursuit, and protect us---”
“HANG ON!” Joe yelled, and cut the wheel. Brother Cooper just had time to get a one-hand grip on the “Oh Lord” handle above his door (he refused to call it anything else) before the truck cut sharply to one side and then slid sideways to a stop in front of the oncoming van. Brother Cooper looked out his side window directly at the face of the man in the van as he jerked the wheel of the van at the last second and rammed the van head-on into a concrete bunker beside the truck. The van loudly crumpled into a ball of twisted metal. Smoke and steam poured out from the wreckage, and Brother Cooper could see the driver’s bloody body hanging half-in and half-out of the van’s shattered windshield.
“Yes! Just like Vice City!” Joe giggled, and pumped his fist victoriously in the air.
Brother Cooper looked over at him in shock.
“You know, Playstation 2?”
Brother Cooper looked back at the bloody corpse hanging out of the van beside him, and then again at Joe’s wide grin, completely speechless.
“Jeez, preacher, you need to get out more. Come on, we need to search the wreck before the cops get here. And find out on the radio what’s going on back at the Science Center!”
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