Sword & Sorcery Studios and their publisher/distributor White Wolf have arguably benefited more from the d20 license than any publisher—the Creature Collection sold incredibly well by all accounts, despite a legion of rules errors and the worst art ever published anywhere by anyone. Relics & Rituals is much better than CC, and will likely sell as well, but SSS still hasn't wrapped their collective heads around the D&D rules.
To be fair, Relics & Rituals is beautiful. It’s a big hardbound manual with the same dimensions as the D&D core books (and is often shelved right next to them at retail). Dozens of sharp B&W spot illos are scattered through the pages, and the page layout is crisp, readable, and very professional. If you buy your game material by weight and shelf appeal, you'd do well to pick this up.
Both the cover design and the preface (by Gygax, god bless him) serve the same purpose: they lend legitimacy to the product, as if it's just one step removed from an official D&D sourcebook. It seems to have worked: the conventional wisdom on SSS products is that they’re high quality and offer a lot of value for the money. Nothing could be further from the truth.
The introduction continues to beat the drum for their Scarred Lands setting, which as near as I can figure is just like everybody’s homebrew generic fantasy setting that they want to tell you about, only you can’t tell the SSS guys to shut up about it. Like Kalamar, it offers almost nothing to the DM besides a goofy pantheon and some place names, and mars the whole book with a kind of fanboy amateurishness. It also adds tons of bulk verbage to the spell and magic item listings—I’ll bet a full quarter of this book is nothing but fluff.
Chapter one contains seven new prestige classes: the blood witch, crypt lord, incarnate, penumbral lord, sea witch, summoner, and vigilant. These are a real train wreck of design and development.
The blood witch offers an interesting mechanic for casting metamagic spells at their base level, but neglects key factors: what exactly constitutes a "voluntary" donation of blood? Can I buy it from my henchmen, or extract it from charmed NPCs? Can I use the blood from my animal companion or familiar? A far better decision would have been to restrict the caster from using any blood but his own, which would tie the power boost to a limited and game-significant commodity (the caster's HP). It also shares a nomenclature problem with the sea witch—you really shouldn’t use gender-specific terms for class names unless there’s a gender requirement. It’s just dumb. Make up another name.
The crypt lord again has some nice ideas, but falls down in execution: what exactly is a transmutation spell that "relates to the modification of the body"--does it include levitate and expeditious retreat? What about burning hands and fly? By definition these spells modify the body to produce their effects. My concern is that the class essentially offers specialization in transmutation (a top-tier school) for the price of a specialization in necromancy (a bottom-tier school). The rebuke undead power also (unfortunately) nearly doubles the number of times a cleric may use this power per day (a cleric/crypt lord with Cha 15 can rebuke undead 5+3=8 times per day, almost gaining the extra turning feat for free.) I would have preferred to see the class simply allow class levels in crypt lord to stack with cleric levels for the purpose of turn/rebuke checks. At second level, he gains the equivalent of the Clr1 spell invisibility to undead—nothing to write home about. Energy drain resistance is an excellent power, well designed and neat and a strong reason to advance in the class. By contrast, the undead familiar offers very little, and there's no provision given for how this ability interacts with the improved familiar feat—quasits can't be undead, right? Natural armor is an OK touch, but it progresses more slowly than a character would be acquiring or creating Amulets of Natural Armor, and should be raised to a +2 and then a +4 bonus.
Raise the dead simply duplicates the effects of Animate Dead with a limited duration (minimum level to reach Crypt6 is 11, at which time the character can cast animate dead—for real—several times a day). At minimum 13th character level, the create undead class ability gives him a vastly improved form of the spell create greater undead, granting him access to undead creatures with CRs 5-8 higher than those allowed by the spell. The only limitation on this power is time, with no more than one creature being created per week. This should be toned way down, either by capping CRs at half the crypt lord's level or adding an XP cost based on the CR of the undead that's created. Lichdom is the final class ability, and allows him to take the template without expending XP (except what he would lose from dying).
The incarnate is a mess—easily the worst of the bunch. I'm not exactly sure what the idea was here, but it's completely lost on me. My best guess is that the class comes from the author's home campaign and was therefore exempt from any sort of critical evaluation. It kicks off by violating rule #1 of prestige class creation: listing class and level as a prerequisite, and bizarrely requires that the character advance no further. Then it requires an ability that the character _can't have_ at this level (I know, it was addressed in the errata—but I didn't pay $24.95 for text on a website). The special requirement is silly and redundant, as is most of the writing in the class description.
It goes on to list the druid proficiencies unnecessarily, and adds that these weapons must be 100% metal-free, unlike the PH druid. Note that weapons made from substandard material are subject to a -2 penalty to attack and damage rolls; the author didn’t, or he didn’t bother to mention it. The class ability pastlife form would be underpowered compared to the standard wild shape druid ability, except that it allows the character to take the shape of beast, fey, humanoid and vermin as well as animals, it opens up dire animals at first level, and it’s tied to HD instead of size. This ability was not checked against the MM listings.
If you plan on playing an incarnate, here are your best pastlife combat forms at each level, assuming you do not multiclass and remain only at Drd4 (though no multiclass penalties are listed, I assume the author would prohibit it.)
1st: HD 2 Wolf or any Tiny flying animal or Tiny poisonous vermin
2nd: HD 4/1 Dire Bat or Nixie or Large Monstrous Scorpion
4th: HD 8/2 Dire Lion or Giant Octopus
6th: HD 10/3 10HD Dire Lion or 10HD Giant Octopus or Nymph or Huge Monstrous Spider
8th: HD 12/4 Dire Bear or Baleen Whale or Giant Squid
10th: HD 14/5 14HD Dire Bear or 14HD Giant Squid or Satyr
You can take the form of Large creatures 1 level earlier than a druid, Tiny creatures 6 levels earlier than a druid, Dire animals 6 levels earlier than a druid, and Huge animals 5 levels earlier than a druid. You can become a vermin, a form that the author passes off as a standard druid power, but which isn’t, and which makes you immune to mind-influencing effects(!). The tradeoff between variety and quality of animals must have seemed like a good idea, but a Drd4/Incarnate4 character won’t mind “only” being able to turn into a Dire Bear, a CR 7 combat machine that a straight druid wouldn’t get until Drd12—four levels later! The giant squid is even worse—it’s 12HD (same as the Dire Bear), Huge, and CR 9: normally only available at Drd15, or seven levels down the line. The term “broken” is bandied around a lot, but in this case it’s appropriate.
The reincarnate ability is like the reincarnate spell, only it sucks. You’re brought back as a newborn infant of the new race, which puts the kibosh on any adventuring plans for a while. The domain and spontaneous casting powers are (surprisingly) fine—nice design work, and nicely balanced, but they don’t fit in with the class concept at all. Then with baseform we’re back into the soup: Any player worth his salt will choose Dire Bear or Giant Squid as his “natural form” and stay that way indefinitely, this fully three levels before a druid can take the shape even once a day. Venom immunity and timeless body are WotC creations, and therefore templated and clearly written. Finally, the ultimate power for this class is . . . wait for it . . . the ability to choose your form in the next life. What fun. Lemme warm up my dice.
Next is the penumbral lord, and here you can tell that R&R is a White Wolf product, since they start using words like “penumbral” instead of “shadow” and the prose turns three shades of purple:
“His is the face never seen for the shadows that hide its features. His is the figure seen only in outline by the light of the moon. And his are the powers understood by none who do not embrace the darkness.”
His is probably also the hand that scribbled black crayon onto an otherwise passable illo. The class isn’t nearly as bad as the incarnate, but it’s got some problems. Obviously the Hide requirement is too high (again, fixed in errata), the proficiencies are weird—shadow conjuration is Sor/Wiz4, and it’s a class requirement, so every penumbral lord already has proficiency in the dagger, club, and quarterstaff, as well as light and heavy crossbows, so wizards gain proficiency in javelins and darts and sorcerers get scratch. And since the class is Int-based (it learns and prepares spells as a wizard, and gains bonus spells for Int), I don’t see many sorcerers taking it—they’re already committed in Cha and Dex, with Con a close runner-up. Darkvision is a nice 1st-level ability, and we see that the class is aimed at Drow; they no longer suffer penalties for their light vulnerability. Shadow strength is a great power, nicely concepted and executed, but it still leaves the class’ spell list far weaker than that of an equivalent wizard or sorcerer. The shadowcat and shadowraven abilities have a nice mood, but don’t address fundamental design questions: what are the forms’ AC? Are they incorporeal? Are they affected by fire and energy attacks? What’s their speed? Can they attack? Cast spells? Make noise?
Shadowcast is a neat idea, but it’s not balanced. The definition of “shadowed area” is never provided (what if it’s at night, or underground? What if I’m wearing a hood?), and at 5th level he can toss fireballs around indefinitely, at a cost of just 3hp each. Cantrips apparently can be cast without an hp cost. I would double or triple the hp cost for most spells, limit it to penumbral lord spells only, and carefully define where and when this power can be used. Improved Darkvision is a nice power, but I liked it when it was called Blindsight. Shadowstep and Shadow home, the final powers available to the class, would benefit from a careful definition of “shadowed” as well, a limited duration, and a specific list of what can and can’t be done while in this shadow plane.
The penumbral lord spell list is extremely limited, and rests on the shaky definition of “shadow magic” that varies from illusion to evocation (what kind of damage does Dar’Tan’s shadow bolt deal?).
The sea witch is a perfect example of how to design a prestige class. The class abilities progress smoothly, the spell list is focused but still offers some variety, and while the sea witch is very powerful on the deck of his ship, he suffers in all other situations. It’s balanced and interesting, and would be an excellent addition to a campaign. I can’t see many PCs taking it, but it’s a fantastic choice for an NPC.
The summoner is a compelling idea that goes back to the Sha’ir of Al’qadim—the caster enlists the help of a patron to further his magical advancement. Unfortunately this idea isn’t fleshed out at all: What kinds of creatures can be patrons? What does the patron expect from his summoner? Are there alignment restrictions, as with a cleric and his deity? Summoners are restricted from learning or preparing spells that don’t directly relate to his patron, but this isn’t spelled out except in the most cursory fashion.
Finally, the vigilant has a dumb name (let’s try to avoid using adjectives as nouns, aight?), but it’s the best of the bunch by far. The PH ranger is clearly underpowered, and this prestige class goes a long way towards patching some of the base classes’ holes. It’s an excellent class, with well-written and –designed abilities, and a strong concept.
Chapter two contains the bulk of R&R’s text: the spell list. It also introduces a new domain, two new metamagic feats, and new rules for arcane spellcasting. The missionary domain seems fine, but might have been better named Inquisition instead—it’s not concerned with conventional missionary work in the slightest. The two metamagic feats are interesting and well-defined, but hidespell should be ratcheted up to +3 spell levels to account for removing the save from most damaging evocation spells.
The rules for heat and arcane spells are flatly ridiculous, since they don’t affect wizards and sorcerers at all, and put bards completely out of business (endure/resist/protection from elements aren’t on their spell list). It’s a bad rule that adds nothing to the game but a rationale for scantily-clad female casters.
The compiled list of spells that kicks off the spell section is a great touch—it’s professionalism like this that I think accounts for 90% of the good PR these guys get. But the spells themselves range from underpowered or redundant to wildly overpowered or poorly defined. The spell descriptions are also saddled with the same setting-specific junk as the rest of the book, and this section could comfortably drop 15% of its length in dead weight.
Here’s the short list of rules-specific problems: acid spittle’s “caster may spit the acid . . . at any time” and definition as a grenadelike weapon and a ranged touch attack (?), and its too-high cap of +20 to damage, and splatter damage (see DMG: creating spells). Animal infusion grants all the powers of water breathing, fly, and spider climb at a much lower spell level, and fails to distinguish between ranks and bonuses in the skill ranks example. Animate shadow’s intangible (maybe you mean incorporeal) tentacle that can nonetheless grapple—can it be damaged by unarmed attacks? Armor of undeath bizarrely provides an enhancement bonus instead of an armor bonus to AC, but has an armor check penalty and spell failure chance. Assassin’s senses is way overpowered, and doesn’t address how the spell interacts with improved critical, the keen spell, or keen weapons. Bleeding disease should be a 2nd-level spell. Bottomless pit should be at least a 6th-level spell, and is wide open for abuse. Bouyancy net doesn’t cover the specifics of targeting: you usually can’t see objects on the bottom of the sea. The author of the clean spell should read the entry for prestidigitation in the PH.
Commanding presence, divine wisdom, and perfect recollection are spells that the 3E design team probably considered and discarded—they are obvious choices for spellcasters (though commanding presence insists that sorcerers rarely take it), and listed here far under their effective level; I would recommend 5th for all three. Commanding presence should be a transmutation spell. Denev’s exile from nature is poorly defined (is a dungeon an uncivilized area?) and overpowered. Glue should have a smaller area of effect, allow a Strength or Escape Artist check to get free, or not be flammable. I could go on and on, but let’s just say that the spell list would have benefited from another month of development and a more thorough edit.
Some spells are fantastic, and I wish the book was full of gems like animal spy, dead man’s eyes, gutroot, holy channel, listening ringworm, sacrifice spell, and unbuckle, but the chaff far outweighs the wheat.
Chapters three and four deal with ritual magic, and these sections are good enough to almost make up for the shortcomings of the rest of the book. My only quibble with the first chapter is the new skill Ritual Casting—they should have stuck with Concentration, and simply tacked penalties to the skill check during prolonged casting. The rituals themselves are imaginative and seem to have appropriate spell levels and effects, and leave a lot of room for future development. I could go for a whole book of these, with some new metamagic feats that only apply to rituals, ability for wizards to specialize in rituals, and so on. Excellent work.
Chapter five dumps us back into the morass of dumb choices, bad design, and unclear writing that plagues this book. The first section is a senseless essay explaining that unlike your game, characters in the Scarred Lands really like magic items. A lot. In fact:
“Not even adventurers are quick to dispense with their enchanted discoveries, since they of all people put themselves in danger at all times and need every advantage they can get to survive.”
I’ve read better prose in a Korean radio owner’s manual. They go on to explain that magic items in the Scarred Lands are so cool that they’re “virtually priceless.” Here’s the section—it’s a hoot, especially since they’ve just posted magic item prices to their site:
“Almost no one sells such prizes on the open market, and they cost a king’s ransom on the black market—if they can be found at all. Any “market value” of such items is therefore a veritable contradiction in terms. If a price must be determined, it’s vastly more exorbitant than players and PCs might expect. The GM (sic) can literally triple what he believes is a reasonable expense for even a magical bauble. Meanwhile, potent items and artifacts can be beyond the means of even emperors and are typically taken by deception or force before they’re purchased.”
I’m delighted that someone spent time writing this lame rationalization when they could have been calculating the costs of the damned magic items. Just delighted.
Anyway, it’s been fixed on their website, though I’ll bet you my vastly exorbitant everburning torch that the numbers are screwy.
And here are some problems with the magic items: Armor of the sea monarchs has “chain shirt of serpents” as a construction prerequisite. Chain shirt of serpents has five writhing animated chains attached to it that attack enemies all around, but it only adds a 5% spell failure—should be closer to 15-20% Clothborn armor should not be listed as an item—this is a special quality you add onto armor, just like invulnerability or fire resistance. It’s also absurdly overpowered; I’d make it a +5 bonus when calculating cost, and restrict which other abilities you can add onto the same suit. Mantle of hope should really introduce a new armor quality, something like the bane ability for weapons, but adding an extra AC bonus against a specific type of creature. It also restricts the character from wearing magic armor while it is worn—for no good reason, since mantles can be worn in conjunction with armor, and since the mantle provides a sacred bonus to AC that stacks with armor and enchantment bonuses. It’s otherwise underpowered for just about everybody.
Mantle of the ice bear and mantle of the lawkeeper share the same problem: their names. A mantle occupies the cape/cloak/mantle magic item slot; it’s not a piece of armor. Mantle of the lawkeeper should be a new special quality instead of an item: +10 enhancement bonus to sense motive checks. I’d give it a +1 bonus equivalent. Monarch’s plate inexplicably grants a +2 armor bonus (isn’t plate a +8 armor bonus?), and a +2 bonus on “Charisma saves”. I have no idea what they’re talking about there, but I can only assume they’re referring to the optional rule in the DMG about using different abilities for saves, in which case the power is really dumb. Shadowork armor mixes the qualities of Silent Moves and Shadow, and again should be listed as a special quality, and not a specific piece of armor. Wight armor is plate armor that grants just a +1 armor bonus.
The blade of the wounded king has all the powers of a standard sword of wounding, with a cumbersome record-keeping system tacked on for good measure. What exactly is the kin-skull—a grenadelike weapon? What’s its range? How much does it weigh? Mageblade supposedly has mage armor cast on it, but it grants a deflection bonus instead of an armor bonus. The ratspike should be taken out back and shot like a mad dog—you can’t make items that automatically hit like magic missiles AND crit on an 18-20 AND deliver poison. Come on, now.
The author of the shadowblade should carefully read the description of the ghost touch weapon quality in the DMG. The war cleaver is a mistake: is it a martial or exotic weapon? What size is it? How much does it weigh? How much does it cost? You have to give stats for new weapons, you can’t just toss out damage and crit range and think you’re done. Sheesh.
Web arrows affect a single target with the web spell, but that spell description requires the effect to be anchored within two points. Change this item to “target is anchored to the ground as if affected by a web spell.” What kind of weapon is a whirlwind blade? Does the user of a wormtongue have to make a grapple check to stay attached? The weapon should have the improved grab ability described in the MM, and there should be rules for what happens to the wielder for the 1d4+1 rounds while his sword is burrowing around—does he lose his Dex bonus to AC? Does he trigger an attack of opportunity? Can he take his hands off the weapon?
The wraithblade is a +3 broadsword, but the broadsword isn’t listed in the PH. Armor in a bottle is ridiculous; every spellcaster is going to drink this stuff and wait the full minute before going into the dungeon. Besides, this is a niche better filled by potions of mage armor or scrolls of stoneskin. The Fort save for Kadum’s blood is way too low (DC 10), especially since fighter-types are the only ones who’ll be gulping it down. The cost for this potion should be huge: it’s a maximized, empowered potion of bull’s strength plus a maximized, empowered potion of endurance—that’s 9,100 gp, plus some extra for the extra point of Str and Con. I’d put it at 10,000+, just for the convenience of having both potions in one. However, I see from the SSS website that they’ve got this little number listed at 1,200 gp, or only 600 gp and 48 xp to create. It’s the steal of the century, at one-tenth the real price. Great work, guys.
Dimitri’s ring is hilariously Scooby-Doo, but I wish it specified what kind of effect it has on the wearer—does he actually get thinner, or is it an illusion? The staff of spirits should be a rod, not a staff. The book of knowledge and cat’s claws both make the same mistake by assigning inherent bonuses to skills—inherent bonuses apply to ability scores only. The circlet of the iron mind is a wreck: it makes the wearer “immune to illusions”, but doesn’t define this nearly well enough—for instance, does it affect spells like shadow evocation, where the damage is semi-real? I would change this to a SR against damaging illusion spells, and a bonus on saves to detect illusions, or a flat immunity to mind-influencing spells and effects. The cloak of fame should use a spell as the baseline for its effects—something like mass charm would be fine. The author of spider webs should read the description for dust of tracelessness in the DMG.
Tattoo magic makes its first appearance here as well, and it seems interesting, but there are problems with the system. First, linking the maximum number of tattoos worn to Con is a mistake: it unfairly advantages fighter-types over spellcasters, and doesn’t serve to limit this form of magic as well as giving a flat number (3 per person) or basing it instead off of character level. I also completely disagree with the position that tattoos should not be subject to the standard x2 modifier for items with no space requirements. Tattoo magic makes it easier to load more items onto the same character, which calls for a higher price—regardless of whether they have a built-in limit on the number of tattoos that may be worn. This is simply bad design, and shows a lack of understanding of the magic item creation system.
As with the spell list, some items broke the mold and were truly interesting and well-designed. The iron scepter and proteus rod, ice sickle, squire’s sword, potion of false death, magic animal ring, burdensome coin, cloak of whispers, and a few others stood out in the otherwise clumsy and oafish field.
Finally, chapter six lumbers into view with a big load of relics. I’m not a big fan of relics and artifacts. They’re useful as plot points, and as a way to explain the great power of a villain, but they’re not so good in the hands of PCs. That said, SSS doesn’t seem to have a good idea of what makes an item an artifact and not just a very-powerful item. To make it worse, there’s no clear distinction between major and minor artifacts. And because it wouldn’t be a SSS chapter without a serious design flaw, caster levels have been completely omitted. Hang on, it’s a bumpy ride.
First, the minor artifacts. Let’s review: the staff of the magi is a minor artifact, so’s the sphere of annihilation and the hammer of thunderbolts, and the deck of many things. These are serious items. Relics & Rituals gives us 18 minor artifacts, but only about three are legitimate. The rest are standard magic items with backstory that ties them to a deity, beefy-but-ordinary magic armor and weapons, or simply weak magic items—I’m not sure how most of these passed the artifact test.
Amulet of ebon dreams is weak; I’d rate it a medium wondrous item, and only that because of the dimension door power. Armor of flesh is a nice idea, and a legitimate artifact, with funky powers that shouldn’t be available to PC item creation. Armor of grace makes the bad, bad mistake of allowing natural and magic enhancement bonuses to stack—there’s just no call for it. It duplicates a number of paladin powers, and allows the wearer, if a paladin, to stack these on his ordinary abilities. Another mistake. This is a flawed specific armor, nothing more. The black book of belsameth is a mystery to me—why does this low-end magic effect warrant artifact status, especially since you can just burn it to free yourself? A medium wondrous item if they tack on some spellcasting bonuses for evil casters.
The clotstone is just a flawed wand of cure light wounds; it’s best categorized as a cursed item. Divine tokens vary in power. A lot. Some are legit, others aren’t. They’re all keyed off the goofy Scarred Lands pantheon, so I lost interest halfway through the entry. Dweomer crystals are cool, and nicely balanced with their small number of charges, but again they’re not artifact caliber—I’d call them major wondrous items. Fist of the forsaken is a +4 warhammer with a new special quality, let’s call it knockback. The author should have specified the maximum size of creature that can be affected, and assigned the power a bonus value—I’d drop the DC to 10 + damage inflicted and make it a +2 bonus. Mask of whispers is a garden-variety major wondrous item. Master’s brush is an artifact that grants a +5 enhancement bonus to Craft checks. I’d up the skill bonus, assign a Disguise bonus for using the painting (say, +10), detail how the item interacts with Nolzur’s marvelous pigments, and call it a medium wondrous item.
Natural order is a DM headache masquerading as a magic item—if you like lots of math during combat, especially every round of combat, to determine the lousy bonus on a druid’s lousy quarterstaff, you’ll love this item. Roaring wand is half wand, half rod—I’d pull the charges, make activation standard, and give it a number of uses per day. Robe of the earth mother is less powerful than a staff of power (I’m using that as the high water mark for conventional magic items), but I’d add some higher-level abilities and give it the artifact seal. Shard of the forsaken only matters if you play in the Scarred Lands, and then only if you’re dumb enough to play a cleric who can’t get spells higher than 2nd level.
Slarecian memory sphere is probably the worst of the chapter; it’s essentially a cursed item that drains your levels. If you’re dumb enough to stick around while it does this 10 times, it turns into a golem (which for some reason now has an “uncanny intellect” despite its Int nonability, though this isn’t explained or even quantified) and tries to kill you. Then the monster burrows into the ground and disappears. I’m unclear why this was even written up, much less published. The sunray spear is an ordinary +4 keen returning shortspear that does double damage against undead. I bet we could put a price on it, and slap it in the specific weapon section. For some reason, they didn’t make it either holy or brilliant energy, which would make more sense given the description as “a spear of solidified sunlight”. Tanil’s screaming arrow summons a dragon, which is a power that I’m sure you could put a value on. Titan’s blood featured lots of dumb names and one kind of blood that turns you into Matter-Eater Lad for three hours. Not really artifact-level magic, is it?
Last, there’s the major artifacts—27 of them. Many of these make fine minor artifacts, and there are a few that make the grade as legit major artifacts. All-mother’s judgment allows the wielder to forfeit attacks of opportunity (no word on whether these are only AoOs the character could actually have taken, or all ability to make AoOs in a round). It’s a great minor artifact. Arator, holy sword of karria has a total weapon bonus of +8—the major artifact weapons in the DMG all go to 11. Its spellcasting abilities are buff, but they aren’t in the service of the wielder, so this should be a minor artifact. The autumn blade is an imaginative, interesting item with enough power to make it a legit major artifact.
The axe of the huror has a +5 weapon bonus, which you could push to +7 for its special abilities. Still just a minor artifact. The bells of non are fantastic—this is a major artifact you can really get behind. It’s sinister, mysterious, and not just another powerful magic sword that makes you eeeevil. Belsameth’s silver ear has a subtle, effective power that could drive a plotline, and it’s powerful enough to make it legit. Bloodlust is—you guessed it—Stormbringer’s little brother. Unoriginal as all get-out, but with a bonus between +9 and +10, and the extra spell abilities, it’s major. The bone axe of gaurak is downright mean—it grants an unnamed bonus to Str that stacks with other Str bonuses, delivers a nasty Str-draining poison, and casts some very powerful spells. Legitimate for sure. The chalice of marvels has the same story-oriented feel as belsameth’s silver ear, and is powerful enough to be a true major artifact. The crown of undead splendor is at best a minor artifact, and possibly just a major wondrous item.
The gifts of the stag are well concepted, and have a nice theme, but all three are truly minor artifacts. The king’s rattle is the best of the entire bunch for flavor—what a great idea—but only qualifies as a minor artifact. Oakskin armor is a suit of wood armor made for a druid, which for some reason grants low-level druidic powers. I’d rank the defensive stance ability as a +3, and the maximized spell ability a +3, which puts it into the realm of a major artifact. The soul forge is a fantastic idea, and makes sense as a major artifact. The sword chaotic directly rips off a magic item from the old Palladium fantasy RPG, down to the use of the doubling cube to determine damage. I would have cut it just to avoid the shame of plagiarizing something from Palladium.
The swords of scarn are a bunch of really powerful weapons with nonsensical abilities straight outta 1977, as if a bunch of 1E grognards designed them without reading the new rules first. The fire sword is bane against “fire-dwelling” creatures (that’s now fire subtype, tiger), but for some reason it’s a flaming sword—huh? Same deal with all the rest—the ice sword is +2 against “cold-dwelling” creatures, but it does +2d6 extra damage that these creatures are immune to. The earth sword does +2d6 “earth” damage—no word on what that means exactly—and damages “subterranean” creatures. The air sword deals extra “air-based” damage—we can only imagine—and is bane against things that can fly. There’s a great system of types and subtypes in the MM kids, you might want to check it out. I was disappointed to see that there’s no “water” sword, but there are two more: the shadow sword deals “negative energy damage”, and the spell sword deals “positive energy damage” (we call that unholy and holy damage nowadays, big fella). I took a break at this point to wipe the blood out of my eyes, and went back for the last three blessed pages.
Tanzil’s wondrous chariot is fantastic; no complaints there. I’d like to see more fantasy “vehicles” and I understand Monte Cook put some together—there’s definitely room for these as a subclass of major artifacts. The tear of mormo is right on the edge here with just a +9 bonus, but I’ll give it the benefit of the doubt. Wicked’s edge is one of these items with the downside of making the wielder attack evil creatures. That’s like a magic beer with the downside that it makes you talk loudly and throw up—it’s gonna happen anyway. How many D&D characters fail to attack evil creatures on sight? Is this something that the author feels the need to correct? Anyway, it’s a +8 bonus at best and definitely not a major artifact.
Then there’s the puzzle box from Hellraiser—excuse me, the witch cube. This baby lets you cast spells from two weak schools (necromancy and illusion) of up to 6th level—not so bad—and allows you to control any “serpentine creature”, which I assume should read “reptile subtype”, though that would exclude the medusa given in the example. Again, kids, the system of types and subtypes is there to help you: use it. I’m willing to call this a minor artifact, but only because I’m sick of writing about it. At the very end of this long, terrible book of errors and bad writing and useless classes and spells, is the wretched of vangal, another eeeeeevil item that makes you kill things, of which there are about twenty in this book. The wretched is at best a minor artifact, and it’s got some dumb abilities that must have seemed cool at the time, or went along with the author’s favorite character.
So in conclusion, don’t buy this awful book. Your friends probably bought it, so you can photocopy the sections on ritual magic and tattoo magic (just remember to double the market price of those tattoos to make them kosher), and ignore the rest. And if anybody offers to run a Scarred Lands game for you, punch him in the stomach and run. These turkeys at SSS don’t deserve your money until they get their act together.
After gritting my teeth through this abomination, it occurs to me that the OGL should only be issued to a company once the designers, developers, and editors pass a test on d20 game mechanics and terminology. WotC could administer the test and ranking system much like their DCI judge system, or like Microsoft's certification for techs. To top it off, the company’s products would have to display their test grades on the cover, just like restaurants in California have to display their health department rating. I give this clunker a C-.