This is part 2 of my system review of the admirable indie heartbreaker Heroes of Adventure. For part 1, please see here.
I’m going to promise not to break out the spreadsheets, here, but I think something that gets very neglected by reviewers is looking at the math core of a TTRPG system. Designers can have every innovative mechanic in the world, but if the math says that 65% of the time your fighting-mans miss trying to stab a goblin, then your fighting mans are going to feel like bumbling chumps. Anything players have a number to; they’ll hold as more important the bigger that number is. Of course, a key OSR insight is also that skill systems will also tend limit creativity…the magic user doesn’t see a skill named “Climb” anywhere in his sheet, so there’s nothing stopping him from trying to climb. So it's important, and Heroes of Adventure has an interesting take. One of the heavily advertised elements of 5E was “Bounded Accuracy”, a response to the huge proliferation of scaling bonuses in Pathfinder and 4E that led to highly specialized munchkins running around killing dragons at apprentice-tier. The designers of 5E carefully limited the bonuses to armor, to-hit, and everywhere else, and as a result optimization got strictly curtailed. Unfortunately, on the design side that meant that the only way to scale monsters became piles and piles of hit points, making combat a rather dull affair “by-the-book”, particularly for the Dungeon Master. There’s something similarly interesting happening here in HoA, where static roll bonuses are verboten (DEF and HLTH do go up, albeit fairly gently). Instead, there are six stats-which do not directly affect combat or magic- and a small number of skills that get invested in to gain a bonus die. This does some interesting things to the system’s bounded math. The first “point” a player invests into a skill is the biggest bonus, going from 0 to a d4, which averages out to +2.5. From then on, each increased die is only +1 on average, going 3.5 (d6), 4.5 (d8), 5.5 (d10), and finally 6.5 (d12). This is a little stronger than 5E’s Proficiency bonus (+2 through +6) and a little weaker than Pathfinder’s class skills (+4 at first up to +23 not counting feats and stats). As a system with advantage/disadvantage, it’s also easy to see when having a skill is more valuable than getting advantage (assume ~+4), that’s the third skill-up going from d6 to d8. Looking at the band of results here, a first-level character with a single skill investment is probably getting 2-24 on his checks, averaging 13 (17 with advantage). A fifth level (or tenth level) character highly specialized in a skill, finagling well for advantage, gets 2-32 on his checks, averaging 17 (21 with advantage). This is a fairly parsimonious increase and given weapon damage is die-only as well (with powerful weapons getting advantage on damage rolls), we’re in a tightly bounded math zone. No multiattack for your heroes, either. Being a d20 system, accomplishing tasks in HoA is rolling a d20+skill/ability and trying to meet or beat a target DC. Most tasks are in the standard 0-30 DC band, with 30 being the nice “nearly impossible”. As a note that means that “difficult” checks at 20 are still too much for a max-level adventurer over half the time. Monster ACs (DEF) reflect that band pretty well, with level 1 creatures averaging around DEF 11, and the top level 10 creatures average DEF 15. There’s better variety within the monsters than 5E, though, which is nice. PCs start with 8 DEF and get +1 every even level, so a wizard starts with 9 DEF in robes and ends with 15 DEF, while a specialized shield-and-armor fighter starts with 13 DEF and will top out around 21 DEF with the shield focus feat ability. That’s some decent differentiation, but before you get excited note that the best monsters get a d20 as their skill die, so even the armor-focused PC will be hit a little over half the time. So the system looks like it is biased toward failure in complex skill tasks, while hitting in combat is easy. Of course absent magic and special abilities (which we’ll get to), the other half of combat is of course damage, and this is even more tightly constrained. Damage is d4 to d12, and players don’t have any way to get more than two attacks (once per encounter, in the case of martial classes). Some monsters do, but not all…which is a good thing for the heroes, because they’re gaining a paltry +2 hit points per level…which means that your level 1’s are starting at 9-16 depending on race and class, and cap out at 27-34. Meanwhile, first-level enemies will be 5 HP on average, but the top threats can crack 150. That’s, uh…yeah, this is not a game that wants you fighting dragons toe-to-toe. Noted. Critical successes, by the way, do double damage while critical failures break your weapons, so there is a little swing to be had. Shield break rules are in effect, so experienced adventurers have a wagon loaded with spare shields used to nullify a single attack’s damage. Spells are interesting, most that have instant effects are a simple difficulty 10 magic check (magic is skill, like melee combat, ranged combat, and athletics)…not too punishing, although there are no spell slots and magic-users cast from hit points, which must be annoying early on. Nastier targeted spells are an opposed check, so you better invest heavily in that magic skill because at your best you’re rolling 1d20+1d12 against the 2d20 of the biggest threats. Despite the lack of formal saves my gut says you’re looking at about the same success rate as a Pathfinder spellcaster dealing with overcoming Spell Resistance plus the target’s save. In the end, it looks to me like Heroes of Adventure’s math expects the players to experience decent success early on, with hits easy even at the endgame but increasing lengths of time in fights. The d20 skill check system looks designed to make checks reasonably challenging throughout the course of the game, with heroes getting mildly better at the skills they focus on but able to broaden their abilities considerably. On a scale of “OSR” to “3.P”, you’re looking at something in the middle of road for PC power, with lower levels more competent than a B/X starting PC but more of an OSR feel by the time the heroes max out at level 10, even weaker than CMI/name level AD&D PCs in certain cases. Interesting as the skill die concept is, it’s not going to make an immense difference in the long run. But we all enjoy rolling more dice, don’t we? On to part 3...
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A “dungeon” “adventure” by Odd Gob, level ? System-Neutral Well this one was adorable. Grout’s Gritty Gauntlet is a “random dungeon” (actually, series of encounter rolls) that has an eight-page six-encounter gauntlet leading to a golem bossfight and a loot chest. It’s got cutesy art and charming-at-times in the writing, but in the end, it feels…artificial? Gamey? It’s a simple enough little conceit. Grout is some kind of wizard or imp or something who’s offering REWARDS to COMPLETE HIS GAUNTLET. Ignore the map, the map is a lie…instead, you’re supposed to roll 3d6 to “enter a chamber” and then have a “random” encounter. To quote the document: 1. ENTER a chamber. 2. CLEAR the chamber to PROGRESS. 3. PROGRESS 6 times to enter the GOLEM’S ARENA. 4. Defeat the GOLEM. 5. Exit and receive your rewards! There’s also a chance that the party gets a PROGRESS for free, as well. Random circumstantial bonuses or negatives might apply based on how the roll went. The encounters are simple, all having a VIOLENT or a PACIFISTIC resolution outlined. If players think outside the box I guess you’re SOL because the computer code isn’t written to handle this. The GOLEM is a classic boss fight designed for cinematic effect, and who drops an actual loot chest. Cheer, and I guess…never use these characters again? Now what I liked here is the heart, Odd Gob is a well-meaning individual from what I can see. In addition to the art, there’s some neat little ideas in the magic items of the REWARD like a stone sword that explodes and reforms or a screaming torch. The designer at least understands that you should try to overcome challenges by means other than “hit their hit points until they explode”. What can be improved most of all is making this thing concrete. Have a map, even a linear railroad map, with thought about the sequence of play…because that, crucially, gives the players choices. Having a real (okay, imaginary but mapped) physical set of spaces gives choices to players beyond “figure out riddle or fight”. The encounters aren’t bad but giving a map to them lets gameplay actually happen. Next-level improvement is actually having things like traps (rewarding observant gameplay), secret doors (giving multiple paths to approach encounters), and hidden treasure (again, observant gameplay)…might be too much to ask for, but if Odd Gob could manage it, it’d be charming. Somebody might quibble with the tone here but I’ll allow it, a little light silliness is fine from time to time. The best use case for Grout’s Gritty Gauntlet is probably raiding it for the cutely illustrated magic items, and maybe taking the golem fight’s mechanics. As alienated as the premise is from anything else, it’s actually something very awkward to drop-in whole, unfortunately. Final Rating? */***** But I like you, Odd Gob, I believe you can do better. A couple weeks ago, in my Itch.io delving I reviewed an overwritten-but-professionally-outlaid adventure called Lair of the Mutant, written for this guy’s very own heartbreaker system. I was impressed by the slick presentation and professional formatting when combined with the fact that the adventure was being given away for free compared to so many uglier products asking for money. I thought it might be an introductory free adventure like Ashes of the Sea designed to sell the game system, but then I noticed he was publishing all his stuff for free, not even PWIW. I think technically that actually disqualifies it from being a heartbreaker…those are so called because the author(s) wanted to make a profit. I’m a sucker for a passion project, and I built a story in my head of this random dude plugging away at his homebrew with his little group of friends (playtesters credited), then deciding he wants to share his creation with the world for the sheer joy of showing off his baby. It was an attractive idea, so I spent my $0 and downloaded Heroes of Adventure’s three core books and now I’m reviewing it.
As an aside, some people may find the art choice in these productions controversial; there are illustrations all over the place but it’s all Midjourney (an AI art program). Clearly this isn’t ideal, we’d all enjoy having an actual human art team working on color illustrations…but there’s a budget of zero here, with an expected profit of zero. And, wonky as the details are at times (it’s nearly impossible to get Midjourney to draw three adventurers facing the same direction, for instance), what is here is vivid, colorful, and reasonably coherent. I certainly agree with most objections to AI art, but I think this case is generally tasteful and it adds a lot of visual interest to the read. With three tomes each weighing in at 64 pages, that’s certainly appreciated. Anyway, on to the core system. It’s a d20 system, most fundamentally…I’ll get into the math core in the next section, but it’s certainly nothing strange at first. When an outcome is in doubt, players make a check by rolling a d20 and trying to meet or beat either a static number (difficulty or defense rating) or an opposing d20 roll. Abilities and skills can modify the d20 by adding a skill die, d4-d12 in the case of players. There’s advantage and disadvantage too. So far, so normal. There’s a complete lack of any static bonuses anywhere; everything is dice…the only concrete numbers are health (hit points), defense (AC), and the many many tables. HoA is a race/class system, with four races (basically human, dwarf, elf, half-elf) and twenty classes. The classes aren’t nearly so structured and strict as is often seen in later D&D, instead consisting of a few mild starting bonuses and then a whole grab-bag of class abilities that get chosen on each level-up, which plenty of cross-pollination between classes (e.g, an Assassin might look exactly like a Thief with a few levels in). Going back to the races, we get a refreshing bit of attitude where the book sternly enjoins parties to be human-majority, with no more than 1 each of the other races. It also seems a little worried about having so many classes with magic access, and recommends limiting casters. At last, we have some overt instructions for the type of game HoA wants us to run. I blame the Midjourney art in part, but there was a point early on when I began to entertain a tiny suspicion…was this whole thing written by ChatGPT? The referee advice is good but reflects the solid wisdom of a hundred OSR games (with a salting of The Angry GM’s website fed in as well). The setting is purposefully generic, a blank map designed for wilderness exploration, and everything is very reasonable but feels like someone took a blender to “good RPG design” and set it to liquefy. The strong opinion voiced that parties should be majority-human, though, that’s a human comment. So why did I get a mild AI impression? More than anything else, the passion of Heroes of Adventure is for Procedural Generation. For everything, there is a table: Character creation? Tables. Advanced heroes? Tables (leading to a charmingly Traveller-esque career system). Building encounters? Tables. Building quests? Tables. Building a town? Tables. Building a campaign? Believe it or not, tables. I was wondering if I could maybe have my own business in a midsize town populated by some odd NPCs…once again, tables. It’s a passion throughout the books here. I can certainly respect the procedural generation to help give ideas, but I do wonder if its why things look slightly more generic than expected. Then of course I also noticed that the spellings in the books were British English (humour, rumour, colour). So that of course is also very human, because everyone knows that chat AIs are American. At this point I’d probably have moved along, but there’s something else intriguing about Heroes of Adventure…the core math. Again, not a single +# bonus to be seen. This includes the skills and abilities system, too, which is fun. So next time, I’m going to break out my slide rule and look at the math of this system, and thus the type of game it expects us to run. I guess it’s interesting enough to keep me reading…part 2 A dungeön adventure by Duncan Hall, level ? For Mörk Börg Surprised it’s taken me this löng, but I’ve finally hit a tri-föld adventure. Misery’s Keep is a less-garish-than-expected triföld that uses its tiny fönt tö describe an eight-rööm “keep” where a half-undead cöunt is wörking with his undead dölls tö summon Sömething Very Badtm. The adventurers are set tö gö kill him because that’s the adventure we’re playing töday (nö hööks are prövided, but it’s a triföld). Less yellöw ink that I was prömised bled för this pröduct…it’s göt a little illustratiön öf the keep, öf the cöunt (nöt matching the descriptiön), and a “map” that’s möre öf a linear flöw diagram. Sö aböut as much cöntent as yöu’d expect för the scale. The initial impressiön öf the pröduct is that it’s an art piece, but there is sömething like a standard adventure here. The map is pretty linear despite the diagram, just öne real alternate line tö explöre…but the alternate line is a gööd idea, with a nasty well-baited trap and a little effigy tö deströy tö make the final böss set piece easier. And it’s all aböut that final böss set piece, everything else in this keep is just “röll ön lööt table” ör “röll tö sustain trap damage”, nöt a löt öf interactivity, nör hints as tö what’s göing ön in the böss rööm. Wander alöng a möödy railröad track until yöu hit the freight train. It’ll surprise nöbödy, then, that what I liked was the tiny bits öf this triföld that are the actual cöntent. And it’s pretty decent, a dungeön with a rööm full öf skeletöns and a shiny gem in the middle öf them, and dire warning scrawled ön the wall? Heck yeah, that’s D&D. I have nö idea höw difficult the böss fight is in the Mörk Börk pöwer level but if seems like it’d be a memörable fight. Öf cöurse what can be impröved is a little limited by the triföld förmat…clearly this guy can write a gööd encöunter ör twö, but he seems tö want möre rööm. A triföld döes have möre rööm than a öne-pager, thöugh, and I knöw I’ve seen möre interactivity ön a öne-pager (even öne made fröm a crösswörd puzzle), sö the möödy/randöm stuff shöuld pröbably be shelved. If yöu are göing tö have a mööd-rööm, then make it interact with the cinematic climax öf the adventure, giving clues, hints, tips, ör even sömething that helps the fight, like he in fact did have in the little dungeön side branch. There’s a best use case för Misery’s Keep that invölves raiding it för the nasty dungeön trap and maybe keeping the böss fight mechanics in mind för a cinematic cönfröntatiön scene, if yöur style öf game isn’t allergic tö the phrase “cinematic cönfröntatiön scene”. It’ll wörk as a Mörk Börg öne-shöt well enöugh I think, it can suppört twö höurs öf taurine-fueled dice-thröwing. It can be used tö drain yöur wörkplace’s printer ink pretty effectively if that’s a persönal göal. Final Rating? */***** It’s a mööd, ephemeral. My first move anytime I'm looking at a new fantasy game system is to beeline the monster manual and look up the ogre entry. It's the shortcut to figuring out the system's tone, the underlying math, and really how the game expects itself to be played. I'm sure some counter-examples exist, but it really is amazing how consistently it works.
Ogres have a wonderful set of fairytale baggage. Big, imposing, brutish, and a little bit charming, in fairytales ogres are fairly interchangeable with with trolls and giants, but from the earliest days of D&D trolls got relegated to a more animalistic trope while giants live a more civilized and independent existence. Ogres though? Still the same old big grumpy hungry guys, usually bullies, typically fat, usually dimwits. Just the kind of monster to get tricked by Puss in Boots into turning himself into a mouse. It's great. In the terms of the "game" part of TTRPGs, Ogres are a very standard final boss for the first dungeon. Most D&D-lineage games think that an ogre is really too much to handle for 4-5 first-level guys in a straight-up fight, but there is an expectation that the dumb big guy is an obstacle that can be overcome. Typically in turn ogres become an enemy the party can stand toe-to-toe with around level 3. I've also noticed that how the ogre is personified plays into how the system expects you to overcome him (it's always a him). Looking at the D&Ds: -OD&D and B/X don't expect you to be able to take a blow from an ogre at all. The simple ogres, however, are easy enough to trick and confuse. A B/X adventurer might be able to trick an ogre into setting itself on fire or blundering into a pit, but because its original D&D all he actually needs to do is to take advantage of the distraction to steal the ogre's treasure. -AD&D 2e will have an even stronger fairytale feel to the ogres, with the longer monstrous compendium entry giving hooks for how the noble party of heroes can negotiate with the ogre, who is probably a more sympathetic figure (along the "dimwitted child" lines). AD&D 2e parties won't compromise their nobility but can work it out nicely in their questline to stop the naughty ogre from pillaging sheep. -D&D 3/Pathfinder take a stark turn with how the PCs overcome the ogre. They don't get XP for stealing its treasure or from completing a quest, but how can they kill it with an APL of 1 against its EL-3 self? Why, by making optimized characters, of course. System mastery of anything in the 3.P lineage will make a crew of adventurers who can confidently take on an ogre head-to-head, although there's definitely still danger there. D&D 3 also expects this by portraying ogres a good deal more savagely, while Pathfinder went gleefully over the top with ogres that are incestuous rapist redneck archetypes. They're here to be killed now. -D&D 4e has less ability to hyper-optimize the party, but an ogre is definitely something that can be put on a tactical battlemat where four PCs use terrain and all their encounter abilities to properly overcome the tactical puzzle. Ogres are less personified than before, just a chess piece on the board. It's theoretically possible PCs could overcome the ogre via social skill checks, but that Skill Challenge is left to the DM to set up. -D&D 5e, finally has the driest ogre of them all. Beautiful art, generic terms, and of course WotC corporate would never go so far as to describe ogres performing uncouth acts. How then can the party overcome a 5E ogre? Why by action economy of course. Bounded accuracy means the only real way to make the ogre meaningfully more powerful is piles of more hit points, which a group can easily out-endure. Make sure to wheedle Advantage from the DM while you're hitting him. All of this repeats for all the games I've yet to encounter with D&D in the lineage, but it works for most other fantasy games too. Next time you crack a new system's book, take a look at the ogre...it'll usually tell you everything you need to know about how the game is expected to be played. Now just don't even get me started on dragons. A dungeon adventure by The Nameless Designer, level 1 For Heroes of Adventure (writer’s own heartbreaker system) Here’s another slick production of an adventure, and another introductory adventure, but unlike Ashes of the Sea this is more-or-less a one-man show (with a lot of AI cycles dedicated to the Midjourney art at least). The Lair of the Mutant uses 16 pages to describe a 38-room dungeon along with intro and outro sections and a compact bestiary, loot tables, etc. The somewhat pretentiously named Nameless Designer is out there working hard on his own self-described Fantasy Adventure Game, producing it all for free apparently. I’m not here to judge the system, but I’m going to give props for this person at least having ambition and doesn’t seem to be trying to make money from his brainchild either. Laudable heart here, although the output isn’t dripping with originality. I did chuckle at the term “semi-compatible” with OSR systems. So you start as caravan guards wagon occupants on the way to the author’s Fortress on the Wild Frontier main adventure. Yes, it is a keep on a borderland. But now you are asked to help find a farmer and his boy that were taken to the nearby, um, Moat House. Yeah, I was alarmed at this point too…but what follows is a little weirder than the screaming “derivative” signs so far. The moat house is largely empty but underneath its swarming with giant ants who want to feed the kid you’re rescuing to the Giant Mutant Chaos Ant Mom (making this the lair…of a mutant). While the players explore the dungeon, which is more “hub and spokes” than “loops” in its map, there are NPCs to pick up, ant poison stuff to find, and at least a few secret passages to find. Vast majority of the encounters will be “they attack” stuff, but there’s some thought given to more creative obstacle-overcoming. It seems designed for about two sessions’ play. What I liked on this one is mostly the side-bits. A lot of effort went into making NPCs with (admittedly generic) distinct personalities, the side-stuff to poison or otherwise weaken the ant queen before confronting her is cool, and there are very flavorful quest hooks for further adventures scattered throughout the adventure. The author makes a point to make objectives, flow, and situations extremely clear, which is refreshing compared to some recent things I’ve read. The bullet pointing, while a bit excessive in places, does do a good job of highlighting the “things I should notice” part of each room. The sharp veer from “caravan guards investigate moat house” to “hunting giant ants in hot tunnels” is a welcome hint of the weird. It can be a fun session or two of gaming. This means what can be improved easily suggests itself while reading. Look at the farmhouse location…it’s a simple little farmhouse where giant ants took a farmer and his kid. This is not a location that needs a five-room map with keys, this is a place that can be quickly described with the cute little Midjourney art illustrating it, and bullet point the clues. That’s a good example of what feels like filler in this adventure, places where slavish adherence to the trad game WotC/Paizo format just leads to too many words for just stabbing a giant spider or whatever. The writer also clearly understands that it’s boring to just be a hack with the NPCs to free and alternate ways to kill/weaken the mutant ant queen…but unfortunately there’s also a lot of pure hacking in the main body of the tunnel. I have no idea of the endurance of this system’s level 1s, but it seems like it’ll really tax low level resources. The map, while well-meaning and with some verticality, could also benefit with a few more exploratory features. Alternate routes are good, but alternatives to fighting are even better. A best use case on this one is probably to use it as a very generic introduction to fantasy TTRPG gaming in this well-made indie system…which isn’t me being condemning, new players really do benefit from having vanilla starts. But it’s not nearly as deep as Bristleback Burrow’s 6 pages, nor even as engaging as say What Little Remains’ single page. And of course if you’re going to start out and adventure in a moat house, there’s a very old classic that plays so much better…so in the end, if you want to play this Heroes of Adventure system, grab the pregens and the bestiary from this and go for something older instead. Final Rating? **/***** A for effort, but just play the first volume of Temple of Elemental Evil. A…hotel? adventure by Ryan Mossbarger For Into the Odd I feel queasy. New Rats In Old Bastion is a hideously ugly 17-page art piece pretending to be a 13-room…dungeon? It’s a mixture of eye-hurtingly bright clashing illustrations and extremely mundane keys describing a mostly linear set of dry encounters punctuated at determined intervals by extremely dangerous “random” encounters. The dungeon is a hotel’s basement. There are weird-looking creatures down there that otherwise act exactly like the standard “giant rats beneath the inn”. You are ratcatchers. This is hell, but not how it wants to be hell. The primary appeal of the indie darling game system Into the Odd is that it’s all about getting together parties to leave The One City (Bastion) and go…into the outer world, which is very odd. It’s a light system, but there’s something cool about the setting, kind of a grungy treasure hunt among the bones of strange alien beings. Reference Roadside Picnic for the old-heads, or steampunk SCP for the youngsters...like the best weird bits of Arnold K’s worldbuilding, actually. It’s not for everyone, of course, but it’s definitely fresh and interesting. So what do you do with this setting? You…decide to have adventures hunting rats in the middle of the city. What I liked was that one Ratatouille joke. Some of the formatting was okay at times. It was short. The start to what can be improved is “strip out the art”. The map looks vomited-on, the unpleasant images don’t illustrate anything helpful…I guess the module is attempting to communicate a mood, but the mood is “headache”, mixed with “nausea”. There’s also a lot of wordiness that can be cut, including a completely useless 3-room key of the ground floor of the hotel, this is IttO, never was a system better suited for escaping the tyranny of the “keyed room” format for light bit of socializing and mood-setting. The broader improvement that is “re-examine what makes IttO appealing and get out of the city” is a long-term project beyond the scope of this review. Best use case for this module? Saves money on Ipecac. There’s a weird crown thing that allows viewing auras that someone hard up for magic items (IttO GMs) might want to steal. Final Rating? /***** My eyes hurt. |
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