A common criticism of D&D – in particular fifth edition, though I’ve seen this levelled at all instances of the game in one form or another – is that the only mechanisms in place are interested in combat and violence. The game ostensibly has three “pillars” – exploration, social interaction, and combat – but it’s that third pillar that’s most represented in the rules as written.

It’s not strictly true that the game has no mechanisms for resolving social encounters, it’s just that a) they’re found in the DMG and b) they’re not particularly robust, not as granular as the combat rules.

A few weeks ago I made the point that a lot of DMs use the social abilities – Deception, Persuasion, etc. – in a manner that reminds me of reaction rolls. The difference is that reaction rolls are used at the beginning of an encounter to determine the initial attitude of an NPC (and, sometimes, during an encounter to see if their attitude shifts) where the social skills in fifth edition are often used at the end of an encounter to determine the outcome. I propose that by reintroducing the reaction roll to fifth edition and using it in combination with the social interaction rules that already exist, we can build a system for social encounters that’s as robust as the combat system.

Combat has three things that we can define about every encounter:

1. A clear goal (kill the enemy or make them flee/surrender)
2. Simple mechanisms to do that (roll an attack against a static target determined by the enemy (AC), modified by circumstances (surprise, flanking, etc))
3. Defined start and end states (i.e. enemy at full health/enemy reduced to 0 health)

The procedure for combat is, broadly, this:

• Say what you want to do and roll with a relevant modifier (make an attack/cast a spell/etc)
• Determine the result
• Apply the effect (reduce HP/apply a condition that affects enemy turns/whatever)
• Check to see if the end state has been met. Repeat if not.

Social encounter in play tend to be freeform, where players and the GM talk back and forth and at some point the GM calls for a check. In my experience this usually happens when the GM is unsure how an NPC should react, and the check guides this; the decision to call for a check isn’t really guided by the structure of the encounter in the same way as combat.

So what does it look like if we start to impose some structure on social encounters? Here’s my proposal:

• Reaction rolls give us the starting state, and players define the end state by saying what they want to get out of the encounter
• Players say what they do (e.g. roleplay a conversation) and then roll with a relevant modifier (make a social check of some kind)
• We compare the roll to a target number (either a DC determined by the enemy’s Charisma or social skills, or else we use DCs appropriate for the party level (see Typical DCs, Dungeon Master’s Guide p.238)
• Apply the effect. If you succeed on the roll, we adjust the enemy attitude one level down the reaction table. Maybe we adjust twice for a crit because it’s fifth edition. Similarly if the roll fails, we move closer to a hostile or unhelpful enemy
• Check the status of the encounter. If we haven’t achieved our goal, repeat the procedure. If we’ve achieved our goal then we move on, and if the enemy has reached a state of hostility then we move into combat

For this to work it does, of course, need a little more support. Something like the Holmes reaction table probably isn’t granular enough for this. We’d need something a little larger, maybe a bit closer to the AD&D reaction tables that are based on a d20 (which falls more in line with the core mechanisms of fifth edition than a 2d6 table).

We can even take this a step further by writing feats and abilites that interact with this system in the same way that they interact with the combat system. We can allow bardic inspiration to apply to rolls. We can build on the bones of what’s there and make something that works well.

I, obviously, have not done that work. This is just a proposal for how social interaction in fifth edition could be brought closer to the system that exists for combat, so that we have more mechanical support for that pillar of play than already exists. We’re introducing complexity to the game, but we’re doing it in a way that is (hopefully) easy to parse because it so closely mirrors what’s already there.

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Yesterday Wizards of the Coast announced that they’re bringing Spelljammer back for 5th edition. I’ve got a lot of nostalgia for Spelljammer and I’ve posted some stuff before. After the announcement I dug out Adventures In Space and Wildspsace and immediately got the urge to write some random encounters for travelling through wildspace.

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Adventures In Space says this about encounters:

Given the nature of space movement, an oppossing craft may appear suddenly in the distance, then slow to combat speed almost immediately. Since it is in the nature of the spelljamming helm to stop when it nears the gravity plance of another body, many encounters will occur without the desire of either side.
The opposing ship(s) will appear 11-20 hexes away (1d10 + 10) in a random direction determined by rolling 1d6:

1. Directly Ahead
2. Ahead & Right (Starboard)
3. Behind & Right
4. Directly Behind
5. Behind & Left (Port)
6. Ahead and Left

Heading is usually toward the player’s ship, though the DM can determine this if he desires.

It goes on to say that there is no surprise roll and that there should be several rounds of manoeuvre before ships come within effective weapon range. We’re directed to use the standard Encounter Reactions roll. (As an aside, I really like the combination of determined encounter direction alongside distance and I think this can be useful in a dungeon, too. I did this in In The Bluelight as the PCs traverse a dungeon made entirely from ice, allowing them to see shapes through the walls and floor, but I think this has applications in a “normal” dungeon as well. But that’s for another time.)

One thing the core Spelljammer book doesn’t give us are tables of random encounters to go with this system. So I’ve written one for you. Not everything here has stats in the AD&D books. You’ll have to do some work if you want to use them but I also expect that most people aren’t playing 2nd edition and so stats for that system would be next to useless for readers anyway.

Some of these encounters are more specific than a random encounter table generally should be but that’s because I wanted to have fun while I wrote it rather than just writing a list of things you might bump into.

3d6	Encounter
3	A beholder the size of an asteroid, concocting plans to devour a moon.
4	A debris cloud, remnants of a battle. The shards of twisted metal crawl with 4d100 clockwork horrors.
5	1d3 Asteroid Spiders
6	Solar flares from the nearest fire body.
7	A colossus, frozen and drifting.
8	A ghost ship, crewed by Ancient Mariners, drifting aimlessly.
9	A pod of 1d6 space whales seeking their ancestral mating ground.
10	Astral pirates sailing under a red flag.
11	A Wasp crewed by 2d6 goblins.
12	An astrologer on a golden barge, attempting to birth a new star in a copper crucible.
13	Shards of a lost moon.
14	A mirror several thousand miles wide and half as tall, drifting between stars.
15	1d4+1 jammer leeches.
16	Abandoned dyson sphere, the external walls daubed with warnings in all known languages.
17	Abandoned Citadel.
18	Ship mimic. (Roll for type on Ship Mimic Typetable)

2d6	Ship mimic type
2	Spelljammer
3	Dwarven Citadel
4	Galleon
5	Nautiloid
6	Wasp
7	Mosquito
8	Flitter
9	Dragonship
10	Neogi Deathspider
11	Gnomish Citadel
12	Man-o-War

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I write random tables as a warm-up every day. You can suggest a prompt here.

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Curious Market Stalls

1. A teetering shack made of reclaimed driftwood and roughly hewn quarry stones. Simultaneously appears to be an ancient, immovable part of the landscape and like it might fall down in a stiff breeze. Owned by Sweaty Steve, a leather-faced man of indeterminate age who exudes a musk of sour body odour and sharp salt. Sells unimpressive chunks of ambergris and planks of rotting wood painted in spirals of red ink. It’s tat, seemingly, but he does a steady trade and has been here for years.
2. Mrs. Landry sells cats. She has dozens of them, a different brood every day. They claw and climb along the insides of the massive steel cage that surrounds her simple wooden stall. They hiss and spit at passers-by, mangy and feral, and stepping into the cage to do business risks having a host of them climb your legs and body.
3. A small empty table flanked by two shabby armchairs stands out in the bustle of the market through its mundanity. Old Rother sits in one chair, draped in layered shawls and coats whatever the weather, face always covered in a thick purple veil. Sit opposite them and they’ll grasp your hands in theirs, whispering to you for long minutes. They sell futures. Not predictions, not promises, not vague wishes that might go unanswered – futures, for you or another, the threads of time and fate unpicked and restitched to suit you and the contents of your purse.
4. “Buy a star today!” the man screeches, hand patting the huge brass telescope mounted on a stand beside him. “Any star you like!” Maester Coldfront is the market’s pre-eminent astronomer. You know that because his cloak and his stall are covered in paper stars that flutter and flap in the breeze. Peer through his telescope, even at the height of day, and you’ll set your eyes on furious burning orbs far across the galaxy. He swears he can sell you them – and for the right price he can give you the means to visit, too.
5. The meats at Randall Campbell’s stall glisten in the noonday sun. Thick and juicy and ripe, he swears you’ll never taste anything like them. But they don’t look like any cut of meat you’ve ever seen, and he’s notoriously cagey when pressed on which animals he’s butchered for your delectation. Still, the price is good and the flesh is tender, and who can argue with that?
6. A twisted forest of glass, jars and beakers and flasks and tubes covering every surface. Thin gasses swirl inside them, so light and ethereal as to be almost invisible. Robertson will sell you a quick sniff for a coin, or a deep draw for two. The carpets and pillows that surround the stall are always filled with punters in repose, smiling and drooling as they sleep off whatever concoction they’ve had a hit of today. Robertson won’t say what they are, and the only way to find out what they do is to pay up.

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Dangerous Games

Magic is dangerous. When you interact with magic you’re twisting the fundamental laws of reality into unnatural shapes. You’re creating friction in the one space where friction should not exist. This should be scary, and mistakes should come with consequences.

We used to know this, sort of. In early editions of D&D spell failure was possible, though it largely just meant that the spell would fizzle without any effect. Thieves who can read scrolls also risk failure, with much more interesting and catastrophic results than failure on the part of a magic user:

this sort of malfunction is almost always detrimental to the thief and his party. It could be as simple as accidentally casting the reverse of the given spell or as complex as a foul-up on a fireball scroll, causing the ball of flame to be centered on the thief instead of its intended target. The exact effect is up to the DM (this is the sort of thing DMs enjoy, so expect the unexpected). ^[1]

Some more modern games still remember that magic is dangerous, a fool’s errand for most who tangle with it. Dungeon Crawl Classics tells us that “continued use of magic results in… changes” (pp. 116). Individual spells give unique results for spell failure, as well as misfire and corruption results specific to the spell. The Vanilla Game has a concise Miscast table that covers a lot of bases.

But the most popular version of the original dungeon game doesn’t care about spell failure, unless it’s the Wild Magic Sorcerer – and even then, effects only happen if the GM decides that the sorcerer should check for wild magic surges. It has nothing to do with the skill of the caster or the risk of meddling with powers beyond your control and everything to do with the whim of the GM and their ability to remember that actually yes this is a thing I should be doing.

We can do better.

What Is A Spell Slot?

Picture a spell as a liquid. A spell slot is a bottle to contain the liquid.

A third level spell slot is designed to contain exactly the volume of a third level spell. The smaller volume of a first or second level spell will fit with room to spare. The larger volume of a fourth or fifth level spell is too much. It won’t fit.

Except.

Some of that volume will fit. The rest will be left over. If you’re not careful as you transfer the volume from a fifth level slot to a third level slot, you’ll spill something.

Easy does it.

Making It Work

This should work for any game that uses the concept of “spell slots” in conjunction with “spell levels”, but I’m writing with Fifth Edition in mind simply because I’m familiar with it and it’s the game the majority of people are playing right now.

In Fifth Edition magic users can cast a spell with a slot of a higher level. Sometimes this increases the effectiveness of the spell. People refer to it as “upcasting”.

I propose that we introduce “downcasting” into the game. A magic user can cast a higher level spell with a spell slot that is officially “too low”, but it’s inherently risky and comes with disastrous consequences for failure.

When a spellcaster casts a spell using a slot that is of a lower level than the spell, expend the spell slot and then make a Control Check.
To make a Control Check, make a saving throw using your spellcasting ability against your own Spell Save DC.
On a success, you cast the spell and it takes effect as though you had cast it using a spell slot of the same level as the spell. Roll 1d6 on the Magic Spillage table and apply the effect. On a critical success, the spell takes effect as though you had cast it using a spell slot of the same level as the spell. On a failure, the casting fails. Roll 1d20 + the spell’s Spell Level on the Miscast Table and apply the effect. On a critical failure, the casting fails with catastrophic results. Roll 1d20 + Spell Level + your caster Level on the Miscast Table and apply the effect.

Magic Spillage

1d6	Magic Spillage
1	Take 1d6 psychic damage.
2	Spend an additional spell slot of the highest level remaining to you today. You regain the use of this spell slot after a long rest, even if you would normally regain expended spell slots after a short rest.
3	You cast hallucinatory terrain centered on yourself, in addition to your original spell. The GM determines the appearance of the terrain created.
4	You cast thaumaturgy, in addition to your original spell. The GM determines the effect.
5	You teleport up to 60 feet to a random unoccupied space determined by the GM.
6	For the next minute you regenerate 1d6 hit points at the start of each of your turns. You don’t regenerate if you took damage from cold iron or silver weapons on your last turn.

Miscasts

Roll 1d20 + Spell Level. On a critical failure roll 1d20 + Spell Level + caster level.

Result	Miscast Effect
2	Your spell affects a random target instead of the original target.
3	Take 1d10 psychic damage.
4	Your spell affects a random target in addition to the original target.
5	1d6 creatures you choose within 30 feet of you take 4d10 psychic damage.
6	You summon 1d12 snakes in your space.
7	You explode in a ball of fire centered on yourself, taking 1d6 damage and destroying all flammable objects in your possession.
8	You cast shatter on the nearest melee weapon to you, in addition to your original spell.
9	You summon a 90 foot cloud of roiling purple fog centered on yourself. The sound of tortured wailing echoes through the cloud. Creatures who begin their turn inside the cloud must succeed on a Wisdom saving throw versus your spell save DC or fall prone and take 1d12 psychic damage.
10	You become a living lightning rod. Any lightning effects produced in your vicinity automatically target you if you are within range and a valid target. This effect is permanent.
11	You immediately age (2d10 + spell level) years.
12	You are unable to speak or make verbal sounds for 1d10 minutes.
13	You slow time for yourself and are unable to take actions or reactions until the end of your next turn.
14	All of your equipment and possessions are teleported 1d6 miles in a random direction.
15	You cast reduce on yourself. This effect can be removed with a greater restoration spell.
16	You gain the ability to exhale a ray of devastating energy. Once per long rest you can use an action to exhale a 5 by 30 foot line of negative energy. Each creature in the area of the exhalation must make a Dexterity saving throw. The DC for this saving throw equals 8 + your Constitution modifier. A creature takes 2d6 necrotic damage on a failed save and half as much damage on a successful one. A creature who rolls a natural 20 on the saving throw reflects the fire back at you, causing you to take the damage instead.
17	Make a Constitution saving throw versus your own Spell Save DC. On a failed save, you begin to turn to stone and are restrained. You must repeat the saving throw at the end of your next turn. On a success, the effect ends. On a failure, you are petrified until freed by a greater restoration spell or other magic.
18	You cast flesh to stone on a random target within range.
19	You cast sleep at 9th level, centered on yourself.
20	You immediately drop to 0 hp. Make a death saving throw.
21	You cast cloudkill at 5th level, centered on yourself.
22	Each creature you can see takes 1d10 necrotic damage. You gain temporary hit points equal to the damage dealt.
23	Your main spellcasting ability is permanently reduced by 1d3.
24	A random creature within 20 feet of you must succeed on an Intelligence saving throw using your Spell Save DC or take 4d10 psychic damage. Also on a failure, roll 3d6: If the total equals or exceeds the target’s Intelligence score, that score is reduced to 0. The target is stunned until it regains at least 1 point of Intelligence.
25	A black beam of energy springs from your finger. Make a ranged spell attack against the nearest creature to you that is not within melee range. On a hit, the target’s Strength is reduced by 1d6. This effect is permanent.
26	Gravity is immediately reversed in a 40 foot radius centered on you.
27	You become infected with the curse of lycanthropy. Roll 1d6 and consult the list to determine which type of lycanthrope you become.
	1-2: Werewolf
	3: Werebear
	4: Wereboar
	5: Wererat
	6: Weretiger
28	You emit psychic energy in a 60 foot cone. Each creature in that area must succeed on an Intelligence saving throw against your Spell Save DC or take 4d8 psychic damage and be stunned for 1 minute. A creature can repeat the saving throw at the end of its turn, ending the effect on itself on a success.
29	A 10 foot radius of poison spores erupts from you. Creatures who start their turn inside the cloud must succeed on a Constitution saving throw or become poisoned for 1 minute. A creature can repeat this saving throw at the end of each of their turns, ending the effect on itself on a success. The DC for this saving throw is 8 + your Constitution modifier.
30	You gain a level of exhaustion.
31	A powerful demon becomes aware of you and begins to hunt you. Your GM will determine the exact details of this effect.
32	You open a rift to a plane of existence determined by the GM. The rift begins in your space and begins to spread, growing by 1d10x10 feet every day.
33	You summon a hydra in your space.
34	You are transported to a random unoccupied space in the shadowfell.
35	Your Wisdom is permanently decreased an amount equal to the level of the spell you failed to cast.
36	You permanently lose one of your highest level spell slots. This can only be restored with the wish spell or some kind of divine intervention.
37	You cast power word stun on a random creature within range.
38	You cast banishment on yourself.
39	For the next 1d10 days you must roll to control spells even when are not downcasting them.
40	You cast banishment on the nearest creature to you.
41	You cast power word kill on a random creature within range.
42	You immediately cast all of your prepared spells at the highest level you are able to cast them, with targets determined randomly. If you do not prepare spells then nothing happens.
43	You begin to grow a second head. It does not share your face and has its own personality. You can’t control it and have no access to its thoughts. As it grows it begins to attempt to assert control over your body. The GM will determine the exact effect of this.
44	The spell fails with no ill effect. The GM rolls 1d12 x the spell’s level in secret. After this many days, you automatically cast the spell at the full level available to you with a new valid target determined randomly.
45	Your skin sloughs off. Take 2d20 necrotic damage. Your skin animates as a powerful undead creature with a vendetta against you personally.
46	You lose the ability to lie. This effect is permanent.
47	A piece of your soul detaches and is trapped within a soul gem located on a random plane of existence. The GM determines who, if anybody, possesses it and what use they put it to.
48	You immediately create a sphere of annihilation in your space.
49	You summon the tarrasque, which appears in your space.

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1. AD&D 2e Player’s Handbook, pp. 41. I’m referencing AD&D because that’s the book I have to hand. ︎

I write random tables as a warm-up every day. You can suggest a prompt here.

Four Piece Of Minor Local Folklore

1. A teetering stone column, built in sections that threaten to fall to the ground at a moment’s notice. It stands in the middle of a barren heath. Purple flowers grow at its base, found nowhere else, and local legends say that if you dance widdershins around it under the light of a waning moon the spirit trapped inside the stone will try to enter your mind and possess your body.
2. An ancient archway over a modern street, the last vestige of the city that stood here before the new city was built. Its surface is carved with a thousand ears. It hears all the secrets of the city, and it’s said that an offering of blood will gift you with centuries of hidden knowledge.
3. A giant stone on the edge of a cliff. Either the elements or an ancient hand have shaped it into a massive armchair. If you sit on it as the last rays of the day die, the devil Itself will appear to you with Its book and a bargain in mind.
4. A well, old stone and slick mould, the top boarded over with layers of wood. A cruel fairy lives at the bottom of it, eternal and vengeful, cursed to be trapped there forever until they reach out and take a handful of daylight. The boards can’t ever be allowed to decay.

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I write random tables as a warm-up every day. You can suggest a prompt here.

Troika! initiative is uniquely chaotic, utilising hidden information so that characters don’t know who will act next. This makes tactical decisions and planning difficult, resulting in a combat that is frenetic, reactive, and desperate.

I propose that we also make death and dying desperate and unpredictable.

For the uninitiated, this is the exact text of Troika!’s initiative system:

5.1 Assemble the Stack
During combat or at other times where it is important to know who goes first you will need to assemble the Initiative Stack. To do this get a container and a selection of coloured dice or other convenient markers (consider cards, poker chips, and so on).

5.1.1 Assign each character 2 Tokens of a single color.

5.1.2 Add Tokens to the Stack for the enemies equal to their total combined Initiative (if you have 8 Lizard-Men (Initiative 2) you would add 16 tokens to the Stack).

5.1.3 Add 1 Token of a distinct colour to the Stack. This Token signifies the End of the Round.

Using the Stack
The GM will remove a Token from the Stack at random, the colour or design of which will determine who holds the Initiative and takes a Turn. Consider giving a copy of their Token to each player so that everyone remembers which colour or design is theirs.

5.3 End of the Round
If the End of the Round Token is drawn all Tokens, including the End of the Round Token, are put back in the Stack. Remove Tokens contributed by dead characters and enemies, resolve any per Round or end of Round activities such as magic effects, Drowning (7.9), fire, poison, or bleeding, then draw another Token and carry on.

Many modern games handle dying in similar ways, where characters reduced to 0 hit points/stamina/whatever are given a limited window in which they might be saved before dying:

• Troika! says you must be Healed before the End of the Round Token is drawn.
• Mörk Borg gives you a d4 roll, with results starting at unconsciousness and moving through serious injury, bleeding out over d2 hours, and outright death anyway.
• Fifth Edition D&D uses Death Saving Throws, asking characters to roll 10+ on a d20 three times to live (with death occurring after three failures).
• Characters in DCC have a number of rounds equal to their level in which they can be healed after reaching 0 hp before dying.
• etc.

The alternative death systems that follow replace the death system in whatever game you are using. They also assume you have replaced your normal Initiative system with Troika!’s.

The Simple System

When a character reaches 0hp, they fall unconscious. The next time their initiative marker is pulled from the stack, they die.

Heroic Deeds

A character who reaches 0 hp is on death’s door. Place a black token in the Initiative stack.

The character can still take a single action and move at half their speed when it is their Initiative. Their action can’t be used to heal themselves without aid.

When the black token is pulled from the stack, the character dies.

Mortal Wounds

When you reach 0 hp, you have a choice: fall unconscious, recovering naturally in 1d4 hours, or take a Wound token.

You continue to act as normal. Every time your Initiative marker is pulled from the stack, choose again: fall unconscious, or take a Wound token.

You can’t be healed while you have Wound tokens and are still in combat.

At the end of combat, roll on a suitable Wounds table. Modify your roll +1 for every Wound token you possess.

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Troika!’s initiative system is incredibly versatile. Try using it to randomise spell durations and see what happens.

“Alternative Death Systems” is an independent production by Loot The Room and is not affiliated with the Melsonian Arts Council.

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This method for learning wizard spells is inspired by the recent popularity of Wordle, a variation on the popular Mastermind guessing game. A word is selected from a random word list and players attempt to guess what the word is. This works best with freeform magic systems like that in A Dungeon Game, where all that is needed is the name of the spell.

Initially all they know about the word are the number of letters (usually five). After making their guess, the other player (in our case the GM) places coloured pegs in a board to indicate the accuracy of each letter guessed:

• A black peg indicates that the letter guessed does not appear in the word at all.
• A yellow peg indicates that the letter guessed appears in the word but in a different position.
• A green peg indicates that the guessed letter is in the correct position in the word.

In lieu of a pegboard and pegs, players and GMs can instead use different colours of dice to represent guesses.

The player has 5 attempts to make a correct guess, with the following outcomes:

• Correct guess: the character learns the spell (see below).
• Failure to guess the word after five attempts: character Makes a Save or suffers a consequence. This could be damage to Intelligence or Wisdom, loss of max HP, or something else that suits your game.

Players and GMs should decide how many spells characters know at first level. My suggestion is three, simply because this feels good.

Correct Guess

When you correctly guess the word, you learn that spell. If your game uses spell levels, the level of the spell is inversely correlated to the number of attempts it took to learn it i.e.

• First guess correct = 5th level spell
• Second guess correct = 4th level spell
• Third guess correct = 3rd level spell
• Fourth guess correct = 2nd level spell
• Fifth guess correct = 1st level spell

The Spell List

The GM should roll on this list (or another that they prefer) to randomly select the spell that the character is attempting to learn.

1. Troll
2. Sleep
3. Quiet
4. Light
5. Knock
6. Close
7. Float
8. Alive
9. Anger
10. Block
11. Blood
12. Break
13. Chain
14. Horse
15. Knife
16. Sword
17. Blade
18. Guard
19. Money
20. Guide
21. Fight
22. Vault
23. Pound
24. Sense
25. Sight
26. Youth
27. Water
28. Voice
29. Watch
30. Stone
31. Image
32. Plant
33. Paint
34. Scope
35. Point
36. Sound
37. Smoke
38. Power
39. North
40. South
41. Limit
42. Lunch
43. Judge
44. Truth
45. Glass
46. Frost
47. Field
48. Entry
49. Draft
50. Clock

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