A forum for discussing and organizing recreational softball and baseball games and leagues in the greater Halifax area.
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One of the reasons I despair D&D is the most popular RPG. It's almost all combat, and not even great combat at that.I don't hate D&D, but I did notice how much harder combat gets from DM's side to prepare, and also how much more bored of it the players are. My players started doing everythign to spend more sessions on their own shenanigans, character moments, roleplay and NPC interactions. The thing is we love our campaign and characters, but are too high level to switch systems. So we're taking break to play short Mage: the Ascension campaign. I am now learnign two different new systems, Mage and WFRP, pray for me.
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This post did not contain any content.One I did was "joke character who ended up being very serious."
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I always do “every non-combat skill, useless in combat”, which is absolutely infuriating with beginner DMs because all they prepared is combat encounters and I have nothing to do
Look, if I wanted to fight, I’d go play a video game. I’m here for the part video games *cannot* give me, and that’s talking to a real person and coming up with rube-goldberg solutions to solve problems without shedding blood
You are aware that most of DnDs mechanics are focused on simulating fights? If you do not like that, you are maybe playing the wrong system. Beyond that, how are you totally useless in combat? All classes get combat-abilities in one way or another and are designed to be at least moderately useful. -
You are aware that most of DnDs mechanics are focused on simulating fights? If you do not like that, you are maybe playing the wrong system. Beyond that, how are you totally useless in combat? All classes get combat-abilities in one way or another and are designed to be at least moderately useful.
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Sure but what's your TTRPG character?A former foot soldier in the crusades who had a panicked war horse fall on his legs in a skirmish somewhere on the way to Antioch and was left behind in Bulgaria by a retreating supply train on his way back. His shattered leg never healed well and he is in constant pain he has mostly learned to live with, does not speak the language and is edging out a small existence as a gravedigger in a bigger city, dragging his twisted limb through rain-soaked earth, muttering prayers in a foreign dialect to saints no one there worships. Somewhere between Neutral Good and Neutral Bitter, depending on the day. I know it is a bit hammy.