Monday, November 9, 2026

d20 Power Shifts

 As factions butt heads in ongoing campaigns, it can be tempting to treat their conflicts as something that never resolves, or that resolves like a sliding scale, where each major event affecting them ticks towards one side winning out and away from another side.

This is fine, especially if the interplay of factions is a remote consideration from what the PCs are doing. But if they do get involved in large-scale conflicts, it can be fun to take a page from the unstable and stupid wyrds of real-life wars, political struggles, and professional quests. You might roll on this table every so often to keep things from going stale or solved.


d20 Power Shifts

1. Leader of winning faction suddenly dies. Power struggle ensues

2. Important figure from previous conflict suddenly rockets to prominence again, perhaps someone exiled, disgraced, or once thought dead

3. Subordinates to head of a unified faction squabble for promotion or to be made an heir

4. Factions in conflict make surprising agreement, temporarily or permanently

5. Suddenly, a minor faction is as strong as everyone else combined

6. Personal animus and disrespect splits a major faction, though neither now sides with their main enemies

7. Unexpected catastrophe makes a stronghold weak, putting safe territory into play

8. Sitting ducks put up a surprising defense, and a goal which was a foregone conclusion is now much in doubt

9. The peasants seize the leadership of a faction by the throat and demand extreme concessions

10. Vassal turns coat and joins a rival faction in exchange for privileges some are uncomfortable giving

11. Attrition diminishes both sides, reducing the practical scope of their conflict

12. An entirely new theatre of the conflict is suddenly in play

13. Faction unleashes risky, yet powerful new weapon, technique, or strategy

14. Plot of faction leader revealed, causing a crisis of confidence in them

15. Faction’s resource suddenly depletes

16. Factions use a temporary ceasefire or negotiation to jockey for advantage before outright conflict resumes

17. An entirely different but intersecting conflict breaks out in the same area as this one, creating opposed loyalties and strange political hedging

18. Some atrocity or crime hardens the resolve of a major player

19. Rumors of (roll again)

20. Roll twice and combine


Thursday, October 15, 2026

d20 Fishing Table

 Roll a d20, rounding down for repeats if the catch is no longer available.


1. Nothing bites

2. Trout

3. Mackerel

4. Carp

5. Old branch

6. Salmon

7. Old boot

8. Giant Catfish. Take 1d6 damage or get pulled into the water. If you hold strong, take another 1d6 damage to drag it onto the bank.

9. Doppelschwimmer. Seems like a prize bass, but then goes pale, grows legs, and attacks. Stats as doppelganger, but can only do aquatic forms.

10. Electric eel! Has a deadly shock that can show your skeleton

11. Samakat Allaena. Stout fish whose scale patterns seem to spell out an unreadable message— they are explosive runes.

12. Freshwater ray. If brought close, save vs rays at +2 or suffer a deadly sting to the chest

13. Scrimshawed human skull. Contains the spells Water walking and Passwall, but within hides a venomous sea urchin— save or contract octopodanthropy.

14. +1 pike. Upon catching, suffer 2d6 damage or be pulled into the water. (Stats as giant fish, but +1 to hit and damage). If the pike is defeated, the new champion’s natural attacks are as a +1 weapon until they are defeated by someone else, who gets the benefits of the fish blessing.

15. Dire Oyster. Stats as constrictor snake, but guards a 2000 gp pearl.

16. Mermaid raider. Carries a bow and aquadynamic arrows, plus a +1 knife carved from a sea cucumber and a pearl that turns black when someone you love dies (worth 500 gp)

17. Message in a bottle. Contains a plea for help by a trader imprisoned by river pirates who’ve taken over an old half-completed dam. Offers a reward for their release and shows a drawing of the layout of the dam.

18. Golden Ring. Seems to whistle as air is sucked into it. Actually a small portal to the ocean dimension, where it is experienced as a floating geyser device. Currently used as a centerpiece obstacle in the arena of the wicked craymother queen.

19. Salmon of Wisdom. Will give +1 wisdom for each question answered correctly to the following questions: Can you tell me your name? How many years shall the world go on? What flies without wings, breathes without air, and wears armor which was never forged? (Answers: Yes, I don’t know, a fish)

20. Fish of wishes. Will offer a wish if you let her go. Literal-minded and lazy, but not overtly malicious unless you’re a prick to her. Upon release, teleports away. If betrayed and extorted for more wishes, she grows visibly more rotten and decrepit per each wish granted, dying after the third.


Thursday, October 8, 2026

Opposition

 The Nazis

Brash enactors of violent action, brutes who wield the strength of one powerful, perverse idea— that what’s evil is actually good. They’re so dedicated to destroying the world that they’re already planning their own ruins and digging their own graves. Until then, they’re building an empire at lightning-speed, based on overwhelming force and folk psychology, riding into marches and toppling authorities, putting everyone in prison, making everyone march, re-sorting everything into cells. They bring a peace that’s like war. Once they locate the right magic items, they’ll win World War 2.

Some nazis operate ugly mechanisms, with boxy pistols and throaty microphones and crooked blades. Others stand at podiums and heap venom on their foes. Others keep their head down and pass on news of dissidence. They design supply chains and organizations as metaphors for wolf packs or masculinity. 

d6 encounter table: bugbears, high-level fighter, dervishes, werewolves, wights, harpies


The Reds

Inscrutable infiltrators with an intellectual aversion to whatever you champion. In their palaces of pounded dirt, they claim to have finally perfected the philosopher’s stone. Perhaps they’re right. Too strong to invade and too scrupulous to let you be, they charm and replace and undermine and gossip and prove. Once they steal the codes, they’ll start World War Three.

Some reds are part of their ample military, strong like ox. Others stand in front of big screens in dark rooms and talk into a telephone. Others remove their working class American tie to reveal a Hammer and Sickle hiding under there. They linger in odd places at night, smoking a cigarette, and utter trigger phrases, oddly persuasive.

d6 encounter table: doppelgangers, mind flayer, goblins, high-level thief, grey ooze, ogres


The Green

One man with one dream of endless power, but also a fleet of flunkies, platoons of killers vindicated by paychecks, and populations humming with adulation for this one’s man’s ambition, his heedless drive to make a buck. He believes in something beautiful; it ornaments his baseness. Everything he cannot buy he strangles, and everything he owns he neglects. With enough gold, he’ll finally be complete.

Sometimes he is sporting, flipping you a tip on the way to the tennis match. Otherwise he’s at a desk, his thumb hovering over a button that stops people from healing your family. Otherwise he’s packed with oddly-fitting muscle, the beneficiary of a dozen shortcuts and other peoples’ sweat. He assesses the value of everything and shows he’s worldly with friendly banter that reveals he has no friends because he admits no equal.

d6 encounter table: dragon, veterans, high-level cleric, carrion crawlers, gelatinous cubes, giant leeches


The King

Relic of an ancient order, bootstrapping his way onward, he few, ever onward, through new brutalities and fresh myths about divine right. Accustomed to absolute obedience and confused by developing realities. Greatly interested in armies and fleets and other toys. He just needs to play the modern factions off each other until modernity rots away and prestige is god again.

Sometimes he leads visitors on tours of his subjects drilling with foreign military science. Other times, he is lounging with delights while his people starve. Other times, he is thoughtless commissioning dangerous people to solve an annoyance for him. He can’t help but fail to explain how his octogenarian dynasty, his ownership of cultural monuments, his own expensive tutelage mints him as the only appropriate ruler.

d6 encounter table: pirates, lions, mummy, elephants, gargoyles, manticore


The Counts

Graceful aristocrats who have stepped pleasantly into the new way of doing things. With bowler hats and grey suits and demographic census data, they still strut with the verve needed to show that they invented the international order. From wineries and on yachts, they effuse so reasonably, so well-informedly, that to contradict them with mere principles feels gauche. They no longer seek anything at all, but are desperately afraid of anyone changing the way of things.

Some counts assemble committees to assess wrongdoing. Others lead unfashionable armies with spindly weapons and banners of lilac, sunflower, or robin’s egg. Others assemble complexes full of art and literature to finally sum up and conclude history’s entirety. They sit across the table at place settings where only they know what fork to use and explain beautifully how a dead thief’s haul has to stay with his heirs, or else we are no more than animals.

d6 encounter table: vampire, crocodiles, dryads, elves, living statues, merchants


The Knights

The fun ones. An order of fun-loving patriots, inured to violence and sworn to avenge or reclaim, only to be betrayed and abandoned by powers who never felt the romantic compulsion of the freedom-fighter. Swing between heroic aspiration and a nihilistic acceptance that their reason for being was a lie and everyone in the world wants them dead. If they can just take and hold the capital, and put holes in all their enemy demographics, they’ll finally be free.

Some knights come selling a dream to angry youths and duck out when the arrows start flying. Others lurk in overgrown ruins and  smoke big cigars, rubbing drug-dealer doubloons all over themselves. Others roll up to some opposition stronghold and convince them to give the knights everything they have, then burn the place down. These are the only opposition on the list who accept that they’re going to die, and so they live and they kill and they live and they kill and they live.

d6 encounter table: brigands, tigers, elementals, giants, giant hawks, hydras

Wednesday, October 7, 2026

Other Types of Adventurers

 Leaden Men

By mystical means, they’ve condensed certain purities in their body into a lump of force. With a Turn of focus, they can send it into a body part— their hand, their teeth, their liver— to transcend human frailty in that section. A leaden hand can catch blades well— treat it like a shield. Leaden men have little to fear from needle traps and devil rings. Teeth to bite, liver to shirk poison, eyes to shirk the evil eye.


They level and gain HP like fighters, fight and have proficiencies as clerics, and save as magic-users. In a procedure like magical research, Leaden Men can cultivate multiple lumps of force at a time, but it drains their emotion and passion, and lends false insights.


Spirit Courtiers

Visitors to the lands we know, who set themselves below others for their own purposes. Prone to unfamiliar fascinations, they enjoy work as bodyguards, advisors, and musicians. With speech, song, or instrument they can impress a multitude. In moments of crisis, they must follow the orders of an ally— a command given in one round is followed in the next, and so the party must guess what is needful before it is begun. Spirit Courtiers deal +1d6 damage with all attacks, may weigh 400 pounds if it suits them, and pick up languages quickly.


They level, gain HP, fight, and have proficiencies as clerics, and save as thieves. They may use spell scrolls of both clerics and magic-users.


Skeletines

Some women are rejected by death along an unknown criteria. The prevailing theory is that whatever force punishes the innocent in this world does so in the Underworld as well, a sentiment that wins these bony and desperate sorts some pity. That so many choose to sneak into crypts is not a surprise, but it is a relief. They have “thief skills”, but instead of hiding in shadows, they imitate a corpse or other garbage.


They level and gain HP as an elf. They fight, save, and cast spells as a cleric. They have proficiencies as a thief.


Demon Summoner

Draw your guy, with whatever weapons, spikes, heads, and stuff you want. She’s an 8 HD demon who’s like twelve feet tall and can be summoned or unsummoned at will— each day, her HP resets because the devil heals her, even if she dies. She has 7 Morale (charisma doesn’t modify) and tests morale each time she’s summoned. When she would fail a morale roll, she goes crazy and can’t be unsummoned until dead. When you level up, give her +2 HD or +1 Morale. If you and the DM agree, she can start with just 5 HD and a cool power.


You get to level up at thief speed, but you have their attack and proficiencies. You save and gain HP as a magic-user.


Dragoon Cat

Each of the nine parts of the world has its great cat, a predator of speed and stealth. The Dragoon Cats pad down from the rich windswept savannas to claim their share of gold and glory before returning home. Their fur ranges from bright orange to mauve to a mossy green, run through with sizzling stripes. Everyone knows these apex predators can talk, but not everyone believes it. They can run at twice the speed of a human, and on a charge can make two 1d8 swipes and a 2d6 bite, all at an extra +4 to-hit. In other corcumstances, they have a single 1d6 natural attack. Ambush predators, they move silently and hide-in-shadows at 4-in-6. When unencumbered, they have a 20 foot vertical or horizontal leap.


They level and fight as fighters. They gain HP and save as thieves. They have proficiencies as magic-users. Adventuring dragoons learn how to instruct artisans in crafting bags and harnesses so they can carry things. With two paws, they can match the dexterity of a human hand. They can carry a human’s weight but make poor mounts, equivalent to other adventurers.

Wednesday, September 16, 2026

Downtime and “””Stronghold Management”””

 When designing a downtime procedure for a long-running campaign, you want to know how involved you want the procedure to be. I’ve run campaigns where domain management is the main activity, even published a zine with rules along those lines, and seen people recommend still other books on the topic. But if you want downtime and “stronghold building” to be a complement to the main element of play, whether that’s dungeoneering or anything else, I’d recommend something simple and flexible. What I’m about to set out isn’t groundbreaking, but I don’t recall seeing it laid out simply before, and so I can use this post as a full and sufficiently helpful suggestion for anyone seeking simple downtime procedures.

Home Base

Downtime takes place in a settlement or staffed fortification of some kind. It’s safe enough that PCs can spend weeks there, and the DM establishes a cost of living, a ruler, a challenger, and random event table for it.

Cost of living: abstracted, how much does someone have to spend to live there each month? It’s nice to have multiple tiers so players can choose to spend extra cash and be seen as rich. If you have carousing rules, consider gating carousing behind one of the tiers.

Ruler: helps characterize the base. Maybe this is the PCs? Otherwise, it’s the person they talk to when they want something to happen in the settlement.

Challenger: the person best positioned to take power. A disunity that can facilitate all sorts of PC scheming, or ruin things when they have a good thing going.

Random Event Table: Let there be a 50% chance each week of a random event. If the settlement is small, maybe the table is word of monster encounters nearby, general rumors, or passing travelers with skills or items to trade. In bigger towns, you might just have a list of factions and an “event” is just the start of some big effort by a particular faction. This is the part that needs to be customized to your campaign. If it’s a dungeon game, most results should have a bearing on the dungeon or the party’s dungeoneering capabilities. In my weekly game, I got about a year of real life time out of listing out every interesting complication I could think of relating to the PCs’ construction project and putting them in a random order. If you restock hexes or something, that can go on the event table.


Procedure

Every month, have each PC decide their standard of living, paying the cost of living up front. Have them pay any monthly costs, like personnel.

Every week, check for a random event. Report news of it, plus the completion of anything the PCs were waiting for that wraps up now. Then, have the players outline what each PC is going to do that week. It can be multiple things, but try to avoid going day by day.

Partway through the week, the DM may surprise the players with an event they held back. Decide which actions the PCs take that week will get immediate response or resolution, and if any will need longer, schedule it out— make a note for a future week and announce it when you announce news of random events. You can even resolve a PC action right away, then later introduce a complication or unforeseen result. Players will think it’s wizard.

Thus ends the basic procedure.


Projects

Sometimes the PCs are trying to do something that will take a long time. You tell them how long they expect it to take, in weeks. Some projects, like crafting something or training, are active, and require the PC to engage in the project as a primary task. Others are passive, like overseeing a construction project, and don’t seize all of a PC’s time that week.

The cost of projects are basically just what you eyeball them. When it makes sense, make sure the cost is by week or month rather than for the whole project, so that delays make the project cost more. When assessing cost, I like to make it feel like money gained from adventuring is a lot— successful dungeoneers should be able to commission a cool clubhouse to hang out in!!!

As time goes on, look out for measuring stick costs. How much does an unskilled laborer costs to hire each month (check your cost of living notes)?  How much does a small house cost? What restrictions and taxes come up a lot?


Record-Keeping

Besides your settlement notes, the party should naturally develop a sheet with all their monthly expenses and their holdings. Despite the procedure being very simple, it’s surprisingly robust and makes the operation of the party’s capital “feel real”, because they have a simplified ledger and are encouraged to be creative, yet always keeping costs and goals in mind.


Should You Be A Wet Blanket For No Reason?

No. Don’t create excessive and complicated taxes or busybody rulers to chase the PCs away. Don’t make the bank take some

wild portion of everything stored there. Don’t force them to waste their gold to gain any XP from it. Design your game so that successful PCs have as much money as you think successful PCs should have, and let them try to use that money in creative ways. You will never need a “gold sink” again.