(This is an Icon Set, for 13th Age, with obvious influences. )

The King has been gone for years, and the rumblings of court fear he may never return. For now, the Eternal Kingdom still stands, but enemies gather beyond the horizon, hoping for a sign of weakness. The King’s  children, each a power to be reckoned with, jockey for position. Some hold strong to their bailiwicks within the Eternal Kingdom, others have taken the roads and ways to the infinite worlds beyond the horizon, in search of allies and power, or perhaps to withdraw from the conflict sure to come.

But whatever direction their struggles take them, the world still turns around them, and the thousand dangers and opportunities that underly the Eternal Kingdom churn on.

Adventuring in the Eternal Kingdom

The Icons of the Eternal Kingdom are its scions, the children of the king. Their infighting and struggles take place on a massive scale, yet are profoundly personal. While their infighting could be fuel for a game of its own, it also creates a backdrop for kicking down doors, killing dangerous monsters and other worthwhile pursuits.

One important difference between the Eternal Scions and other Icons is that much of what they do is secret – most NPCs of any note have a thread that connects them to one Icon or another, but even they may not be aware of it.  Some of this is a function of their power – reality itself bends in subtle ways to comply to the will of the Icons – but it it also the nature of their conflicts. Open action invites retribution, so secret proxy fights are the norm.

This, of course, means that people like adventurers are of great use to the icons – effective enough to be useful, but still playing on a smaller chessboard than the Icons themselves (Arrogance is another common trait of the icons). Whether as a direct or indirect patron, the Icons are more than happy to work through adventurers to pursue their own ends, which are just as likely to be far-reaching and subtle as they are to be petty and vindictive..

While the icons may be engaging in their own internal struggles, there’s still a lot of be done.  Monsters roam the wild places, with new threats walking in from the infinite worlds every day.  Ancient ruins dot the mountains and forest.  Mysterious islands fill the seas.  Worlds of danger and treasure can be found in a wrong turn off a royal road, a misread map or an ancient and forgotten road.

For those of a more civilized bent, the many trading partners of the Golden City are all major urban hubs of their own, each of which would be the crown jewel of their world were they not in the shadow of the Golden City.  These cities are in a constant struggle for prominence among themselves, and often within themselves as well.  And, of course, there are dangers aplenty – no crossworld empire can exist with parasites and other dangers. While few of them may have the power to be a threat to the Icons, they still may have substantial power (and sinister agendas) within their own spheres, and their existence is almost certainly a benefit to somebody.

Icon Set: The Eternal Scions

The Scions of the King are beings of incredible power, though their appearance and motivations seem quite human.  Superhumanly strong and durable and seemingly immortal, they are able to traverse the infinite worlds at will, finding treasures and raising armies with no more effort than you or I might take to go find a pair of shoes in our closet.  They shape luck and circumstance to their will, and have thousands of years experience at their chosen pursuits.  And those are only the abilities that everyone knows about.

However, they are also a family, albeit a profoundly dysfunctional one. They may come to blows, but it is rare that they do so with any permanent end in mind. Some of this is tradition – the king would not tolerate such things.  Some is practicality – the death curse of a Scion is a terrible thing indeed. And some is probably sentiment – these are the people they’ve despised for millennia, and old enough hatreds can come close to a sort of affection.

The General – Eldest son of the King by the golden queen, he has long since abandoned any claim in the throne in his pursuit of perfection on the battlefield (and with an understanding of how such ambitions lost him his siblings). He has no patience for the squabbles of his family, but at the same time, he figures heavily in all their plans, for none wish to make an enemy of him.

 

The Regent – Second eldest son of the King by the sliver queen, he would be the perfect heir in every way save that of birth. Born before the marriage of his Mother and Father, his claim to the throne has always been tainted. Despite that he has made himself into a leader, and in the absence of the king, he has been been the administrator (and some say, de factor ruler) of the Eternal Kingdom. It’s common knowledge that the day will come that he seeks to make his claim openly.

The Lost Prince – Younger Brother of the Regent and ever the Favorite of the King, he is much like his brother, save that in his legitimacy he has always held a place of primacy in their father’s eye. Or he did until he vanished somewhere in the infinite worlds, centuries ago. His body has never been found, and is is the hope or fear of many that he may someday return.

He is never far from the minds of the Kingdom, and whenever events take a strange turn, there will always be those who will take it as a sign of the Lost Prince’s actions, or a portent of his return.

The Huntress – Last child of the silver queen, the ambitions of a daughter have been overshadowed by such brothers. But if their sun cast too much light, she has found refuge in the moon. Like her mother, she knows the secrets of the City of the Sky, and like her mother, she keeps them well.

 

The Sorceress – The eldest daughter of the bronze queen, she is a small dainty thing made of fire and razor blades. Her mother’s magic runs strong in her, and in a family of mighty warriors and dashing rogues, her wit and wisdom earn her words  a seemingly disproportionate weight.

 

 

The Rake – A dashing figure of color and light, the son of the bronze queen is the very image of a hero. An accomplished swordsman, skilled sorcerer, able politician and all about man about town, he suffers only from the comparison of those around him. For every way in which he excels, someone in his family overshadows him.

Still, his very obviousness makes him something of an Enigma – it is clear that he has ambitions and an agenda, but his overt actions are so blatant that most assume they are a smokescreen for something else.

The Artist – Brilliant, mad or both, the artist is the youngest child of the bronze queen, he abandons and embraces mediums as readily as he creates and destroys work that lesser spirits would call masterpieces. At his best, he is a brilliant, dazzling soul that illuminates the whole kingdom. At his worse, he could very well crack the whole world open.

 

The Watcher – A byblow of the king and a queen of the sea, she has remained apart from the workings of her family, more home beneath the waves, watching all through water and mirror. Her ambitions lie outside the Eternal Kingdom, but her secrets are valuable everywhere.

 

The Admiral – Eldest illegitimate child of the King and the iron queen, a bastard he was born and a bastard he has ever been. He stands out in a family of duplicitous backstabbers as a pirate and a rogue. While he does not wear his loyalties on his sleeve, he carries them on the edge of a knife.

 

The Warden – Second son of the iron queen, he is the keeper of the forests, hunter of dragons, the Warden in White, riding his mighty steed at the head of his pack of hounds. It is a duty he resents, far from the light and music of the court, but like all the children of iron, is is a duty he would lay down his life fulfilling.

 

The Giant – Last son of the iron queen, he is taller and stronger than any in the family, and perhaps that size accounts for a heart that still beats with love and compassion within this den of vipers. A mighty combatant, he is no strategist or courtier, and while easily misdirected, he is a fearsome enemy indeed when riled.

 

The Romantic – Daughter of the king and a woman from the infinite worlds, the Romantic is the most beautiful woman in the Eternal Kingdom (though some few give that acclaim to the Huntress). She is well aware of her beauty, and many consider her little more than a vapid creature of the court, Indeed, she does not have the strength of arms or magic of her siblings, but she has chosen a different battlefield, trading swords for salons. Whether this is shallow attention seeking or a cunning agenda is something of an open question.

The Scoundrel – Youngest child of the king, he is the farthest from the throne and farthest from the considerations of it. He has abandoned ambition in favor of his own entertainments. An accomplished musician and a legendary gambler, there is very little the Scoundrel won’t do, except take on the responsibility that suits a prince.

Relationships

• The Children of the iron queen (the Admiral, Warden and Giant) are a tightly knit cabal, and are well known for their loyalty to the Eternal Kingdom over politics.  However, they are also known for their individual passions, which can overcome their better judgement.
• Similarly, the children of the bronze queen (Sorceress, Rake and Artist) form another cabal, more known for their cunning and general magical aptitude.
• The Children of the silver Queen were once a cabal as well, but something drove a spike between the Regent and the Lost Prince, and each pressured the Huntress to choose a side.
• Long ago, before any but the children of gold and silver can remember, there was a similar cabal among the children of gold. Terrifying as it is to contemplate today, the General was the least of his siblings.  However, in their ambition, they became a threat to the King, and that spelled their doom and (presumed) death.  It is said, among those who know,  that the General’s aversion to politics is all that spared his life.
• The Warden is said to have an inappropriate affection for the Sorceress.
• The Artist and the Watcher were born at nearly the same time, with the Watcher a little bit older.  This is uncommon in the family, and the two have a close bond as a result, with her viewing him as something of a little brother.
• The Regent and Admiral are said to be close friends, though given who they are, the question is which one is faking it.
• The Regent currently holds his power with the support of the Children of Iron and the lack of a strong opposition.  In the absence of the Lost Prince, there are not many who could press a claim for rulership (perhaps the Rake). But at the same time, his position is more tenuous than it seems – the children of iron are traditionalists, and if the Regent overreaches, then he may find his position quickly crumbles.

The Eternal Kingdom

The Golden City – Crown jewel of the Eternal Kingdom, the Golden City is a true crossroad of worlds, sitting at the hub of trade routes that extend out into the infinite worlds. The whole city is wrapped around a great harbor, and proceeds uphill, overlooked by the Royal Palace.

• The Admiral and The Giant spend much of their time in the city, and are frequently seen in the harbor area.
• The Scoundrel tends to leave quite a trail in his wake when he’s in town.
• The Romantic is a fixture in the better parts of the city.

The Royal Palace – Seat of the king and home of the royal family, it is a masterpiece of architecture and magic, overlooking the Golden city, and by extension, the infinite worlds beyond it. The royal family makes their home there, and it is said that is is rife with their secret playthings and powers.

• Every Icon (save the Lost Prince) can be found in the Palace at one some time or another, though some are more frequent occupants.
• The Regent’s seat of power is the palace.
• When not in the city, The Romantic is almost certain to be found in the Palace
• The Sorceress makes heavy use of the Palace’s Library, and the Artist has an entire hall dedicated to his work.

The Dragon’s Spine The mountain that holds the Golden City and Royal Palace on its slopes is the southernmost peak of a mountain range that extends far to the north. As old as the golden city is, these mountains are older still, and outside of a few forts and outposts, it is still largely wild country, home to monsters and ancient ruins.

• The General takes the mountains more seriously than most of the rest of the family (Perhaps knowing something that he has not shared). He maintains an elite team of mountaineers who patrol the mountins to the best of their ability.
• The Peak of the eternal Mountain is the gateway to the City of the Sky, and as such, it is often frequented by the Huntress.

The Forest Unending – To leave the eternal kingdom by land, you will eventually pass through the forest. All roads pass through it, but the roads are only the smallest fraction of it vastness. Entire kingdoms exist within the forest, never seeing beyond its bounds. And, of course, the oldest and most dangerous creatures can be found in its shadowy depths.

• The forest is the Warden’s domain, this fact is uncontested. His army of rangers is the largest standing force in the Eternal Kingdom, but they are still spread incredibly thin.
• The Huntress is no stranger to the Forest, but her presence is not always welcomed by the Warden.
• The Sorceress also has some secrets in the Forest, and some whisper that she is the leader of a cabal of witches whose influence extends far and wide.

The Boundless Sea – While less obvious than the roads through the Forest Unending, the seas around the Eternal Kingdom are full of ways out into the infinite worlds. The barriers between worlds are rarely obvious, and the result is a vast and shifting sea, full of monsters, mysterious islands and, of course, pirates. The navies of the Eternal Kingdom and her allies keep the trade routes as safe as they can, but there are always new dangers emerging.

• The Admiral and the Giant lead the Eternal Kingdom’s Northern and Southern Fleet, They spend much of their time at sea.
• The Watcher’s interest in the City of the Waves keeps her interested in affairs upon the Boundless Sea.
• The bronze queen came from an island to the south, and the Sorceress, Rake and Artist all spend some time in transit to and from her homeland.

The City of the Waves – Beneath the sea, not far from the coast of the Golden City, stands the Golden City’s sister city. Ancient magic renders the waters around the city breathable, though the natives no longer need such magics. The city’s population is small, but it holds many secrets and unknown magics, and superstition suggests that any disruption in one city will be reflected in the other. Whether true or not, this concern has allowed the two cities a peaceful coexistence without the tensions one might expect of two powers in such close proximity.

• The Watcher makes her home in the City of the Waves, and while she is not the Queen, her influence is extensive. More, she is also privy to many of the City’s secrets.
• The Scoundrel has cut an impressive trail through the City, and there is a death sentence waiting for him should he ver return, though the details of why this is so are fuzzy.
• The silver queen had close ties to the City of the Waves, and her children are welcome there. The regent rarely has time to visit and the Lost Prince is missed, but The Huntress is a regular visitor.
• The Romantic visits often enough to maintain relations with the city’s elite.
• The Admiral and Giant have a tense relationship with the City. The people of the Sea are nominally allies to the fleets, but it is usually on their terms.

The City of the Sky – When the moon is full, a ghostly reflection of the golden city appears in the sky above the golden city itself. A silvery staircase rises from the peak of the royal mountain, and the brave (or mad) can travel up those stairs to face the visions that await them and try to return before the city vanishes again. Those who survive the trip report visions of the past and future, and many feel the secrets to be learned are worth the risk

• It is rare that a full moon comes around and the Huntress does not visit the ghostly city. Given the risk of a stray cloud, it may be safe to assume she knows something the others do not.
• Some suspect that the Lost Prince is trapped in the city in the Sky, and that the Huntress’s journeys are in search of her brother.

The Infinite Worlds – Beyond the bounds of the Eternal Kingdom are an infinite number of worlds and realities. It is said that the royal family can travel freely among them, but everyone else depends upon the roads and sea lanes laid down by the King and maintained by his children. Worlds of every type exist, but the lanes lead only to ones that are of some use to the Eternal Kingdom, but the worlds the lanes pass through can be less predictable.

• The Scoundrel and General spend much of their time among the worlds, both looking to avoid the Eternal Kingdom (though neither would appreciate the comparison).
• Every few decades, the Romantic finds a world that appeals to her sensibilities. She will spend time cultivating artists, philosophers and intellectuals, and eventually she will return to the Eternal Kingdom with the seeds of the latest fashions.
• It is suspected that the Lost Prince is lost somewhere among the Infinite Worlds, though it difficult to say what could keep him lost against his will.

 

Mechanical Notes

• For dice rolling purposes, The Lost Prince serves as the spoiler. In circumstances of unknown and uncertainty, things are often attributed to the Lost Prince.
• None of the icons are particularly good or evil, so by default, they are all priced as ambiguous. If it is critical for your game to have Heroic and Villainous Icons, then you may assign them as you see fit, but I would lean towards  The General, The Lost Prince and the Giant as Heroic, and the Sorceress, Artist and Admiral as Villainous.
• A player may choose one or more of their personal Icons to be a secret to them, in which case the GM is free to decide who it is at any point down the line.  There is no particular mechanical advantage to this, but sometimes it’s just fun.

Sorcery in the Eternal Kingdom

Sorcerers do not draw their power directly from the Icons, but rather are indebted to an icon for their power.  The Icons hold many secret sources of power – Founts of flame, bottled lighting and so on – which they share with those they favor (or which may be stolen).  As such, Sorcerous Backgrounds are replaced with Sorcerous Secrets. These secrets are rarely tied to a single Scion, rather, some scions are inclined towards certain secrets.

The Eternal Kingdom equivalents of 13th age Sorcerous backgrounds follow:

• Arcane Heritage becomes Secrets of the Sun and is tied to the southern isle  and the traditions of the bronze queen.  It may be tied any one of the children of bronze (Sorceress, Rake or Artist).
• Chromatic Destroyer becomes Secret of the Storms – The character has attuned to the four great storms (Ice, lightning, poison and acid) beyond the bounds of the Eternal Kingdom.  Finding the storms is difficulty enough, and surviving them is something else entirely, but if survived, they are a potent source of power. Any scion could show someone the way to this power, if they had sufficient incentive.
• Fey Heritage becomes Secrets of the Sea and is the domain of the Watcher
• Infernal Heritage  becomes Secrets of the Sword.  In a hidden chamber, somewhere in the vicinity of where the Dragon’s Spine meets the Forest Unending lies the tomb of a would be conquerer.  The figure of a giant of a man (easily 12 feet tall) lies in state, clad in black armor and impaled by a great red sword.  None have successfully drawn the sword free, but those who have tried carry away a bit of its power.  The General knows where this chamber is, as does the Warden. The Sorceress and the Regent may also know.  It’s possible that other Scions know, but it’s a well-kept secret.
• Metallic Protector Heritage becomes Secrets of the Sky – These can only be learned in the City of the Sky, so the Huntress is the most obvious avenue to this power.
• Undead Remnant Heritage becomes Secrets of Shadow.  These are the vestiges of an enemy of The Eternal Kingdom, long since vanquished, but with necromantic relics still scattered through the Infinite Worlds.  The Scions largely destroy these relics when they find them, but some are kept in back pockets when needed. Of course, some suspect that the use of the power of those relics may suggest that the enemy is not quite so vanquished as all that.

References

• Icons courtesy of game-icons.net
• Find out more about 13th Age

 

The chapter on running the game opens with the all important section on using Icon relationships, with a wonderful sidebar acknowledging that this is new tech, and that it’s worth watching the internet to see what people do with it.

As we mentioned a while back, the mechanics of Icon relationships are straightforward. You have a few points of relationships spread among the icons. When called for, you roll 1d6 for each point. If a 6 comes up, the relationship matters in a useful way. If I 5 comes up, the relationship matters in a useful way, but there’s a catch. Mechanically, it’s pretty simple.

Conceptually, it’s much more interesting. These rolls are basically the things that are going to provide seeds fro your play, Practically, there are three main times to make a relationship roll.

1. When that icon (or its agents) show up in an important way
2. At the beginning of every session[1]
3. When things have totally gone off the rails.

We’ll get to #1 in a minute. #2 is the real gold (and #3 is, really, just an extension of #2, since it’s very nearly a reboot button). So at the beginning of play, everyone rolls all their relationship dice, and each 5 or 6 is expected to become a plot point in the forthcoming session. Since everyone has at least 3 points, that’s generally going to mean one plot element per player, but it’s subject to the vagaries of the dice[2]. Assuming the GM takes these things seriously, that’s enough elements to really make sure the shape of the adventure conforms to the play.

The idea is a little bit stronger than the support. There are a number of ideas given for how to improvise relationship rolls into play – providing guidance, driving flashbacks, giving goodies and so on. These are fine, but they’re chrome – they’re the way you would use these rolls if you still want to run basically the same dungeon you were going to be running anyway. I get that the examples I want to see (like tying the relationships and, in turn, the PCs directly into the stakes of the day’s adventure) might be a little daunting to someone coming to this fresh faced, but that capability is so awesome that it feels like a wasted opportunity.

It’s with that in mind that I consider rolling relationship dice for dramatic events to be almost incidental, and I admit the writeup doesn’t change my mind. The actual rules for such rolls are pretty thin, and more or less boil down to rolling to see if you grab the spotlight for a given scene (which is a bit weird) with most of the focus on when such rolls are made (short answer – when the GM says so, though players may occasionally force the issue through play).

There’s a nice rule for rolling for random icon influence, but really, that’s it. It’s disappointing. Again, I am crazy about how good the Icons concept is (even if I might be inclined to fiddle with the dice) and I feel like it gets badly undersold in the text.

Next section is on environments and tiers, basically noting that locations are tiered the same way that characters are (Adventurer, champion & epic) and in case that was not clear enough, there’s an actual chard to prove it. Environment tier matters because it sets the baseline difficulty for actions (baseline 15, +5 per tier, +5 per difficulty increments, of which there are 3). So the hardest adventurer tier DC is 25 (2 difficulty increments) while the highest Epic DC is 35 (2 difficulty increments and 2 tiers). This is one of those cases where simplicity was clearly chosen over smooth break points, but the underlying idea is flexible enough (that is, a given dungeon might be largely one tier, but another tier in some places) that it’s not as painful as it could be.

There’s also a kind-of-probably-intentional sliding scale to it, where a Hard Adventurer DC (20) is the same as a Normal Champion DC. This allows for a bit of subjectivity in deciding difficulties, which is almost necessary because there’s a real lack of meaningful difference between the environment tiers besides the level of the characters. There are also default attacks and damage levels for each tier, and it’s all combined into a single table that’s reminiscent of 4e’s famous Page 42.

I was curious to read the section on traps, because the decision for the rogue to have trap sense rather than thievery as a class feature has been sticking in my craw. There’s a nice explanation of why instakill traps are lame, and a kind of thin-seeming explanation of why traps aren’t worth XP (but monsters are) followed by some sample traps and…that’s it.

The section on building encounters is less sparse, but is not much more than functional. Simple formula for coming up with the correct number of enemies without ever actually using terms like “Challenge Rating” Some of it is interesting – Adventurers fight equal level enemies, Champions fight level +1 and Epic fights level +2. I just kind of trust that works out. There’s also some familiar 4e tiering of monsters from Mook to Normal to Large to Huge with Normal as the default. Amusingly, there are guidelines on how to make fights unfair (more, and harder) but not necessarily why you’d do it.

Y’know that thing I keep saying about the assumption that the reader already know what they’re doing? Yeah. That.

The advice on healing up mostly revealed to me that a key concept thad been introduced in the combat chapter without my noticing it. The flee rules note that you can have the party suffer a campaign loss – some sort of in game setback. Turns out that “campaign loss” is actually a game term because you can also take them for resting too often. I’m fine with the rule, but as for the term, this is why god created italics.

The section on leveling up opens up with the big whammy – no XP. Just advance a level every 12–16 battles or so. There’s a list of the benefits of leveling, which is mostly what we’ve seen before, followed by rules for incremental advances to smooth out the progression if anyone needs that.

Wedged in here, for no reason I can really point to, is a section on “Player Picks”, which are a great technique. At the end of the session players can pick fiction elements they want to see recur. It’s a little rule, but a very neat one.

Another nice touch is the “Extraordinary Experience” rule, which basically replaces any formal training system. When you level, you need to have a good story for it, either a transcendent moment or some cool backstory. I dig this in theory, but since everyone levels simultaneously, I wonder if it’s a bit more dull in practice.

Then, as a wrap up comes the 10 levels in 10 session campaign variant, which is just a fun idea.

So, ok, if there’s no XP, then what about loot? Well, yes, there’s loot, though it’s a little abstracted. Basically, rather than accruing per encounter, gold accrues per rest( sorry, full heal-up) which is supposed to be roughly every 4 battles. All of this is predicated on an idea that, really, money isn’t useful for anything but buying potions and minor magic (and it even includes an alternate system to skip the middleman and just pay out in potions and runes).

I admit, I’m a big fan of abstract wealth systems, but this one manages to take me aback a little as even more abstract than I’m comfortable with (and, for context, I’m totally ok with resources being a skill). Thinking about it, I think the issue is twofold. First, I like broke heroes. If I’m going to use cash as a motivator, then it should be motivating, dammit. This is predicated on an assumption of blithe wealth, which totally makes sense if you accept that everyone is sufficiently important that little things like money don’t matter any more. The second point is an extension of that – the idea that money isn’t useful for anything else strikes me a so self-referentially dungeoneering-centric as to actively hurt my sense of setting. If I can’t lose my money betting on the dire badger races, then something is just wrong with the world.

There are also guidelines for handing out magic items, but the actual items are in a future chapter.

The next section in what I might describe as a somewhat haphazard order is ritual magic, and this is another fun, exciting thing. Rituals basically take existing spells and let you use them as the basis for a larger effect. The player pitches that to the GM, who determines how long it will take (1d4 minutes, quarter hours or hours) then call for a skill check.

As a baseline, this is a pretty neat system, and a great way to introduce very open-ended, “magical” activities into the game. More, the examples make it pretty clear that the extent of the improvisation and interpretation allowed is extensive enough that the core spells are only a loose limitation (which is good, since there is no not-having a class spell at the moment).[3]

However, it could use about another page of explanation. Free form magic is cool as heck on the page, but it very quickly runs into issues of scale, drama and repetition.

Scale can be illustrated pretty simply, let’s say I want to put a whole town to sleep – the base spell is pretty easy (sleep) but how should I adjudicate the rest? And how will that differ if I want to just put a building to sleep? What about a whole city? Rituals can allow stuff like this, and that’s cool, but guidance would help. Similarly – can I use a ritual version of blink to teleport my party somewhere? By the ritual rules it totally makes sense, but there is actually a level 9 teleport spell, so it this cheating?

Once the door to a ritual gets opened, you can bet that players will keep using it. It will become part of their regular arsenal of effect, and that means that you run a strong chance of having something that seemed cool in the moment to become a precedent for something you didn’t intend.

There is a little bit of guidance for Drama, in that the GM can declare what is required to cast a particular ritual, and that’s a good baseline. In theory, the GM can answer question of scale by scaling the requirements for various effects (so, yes, you can put the city to sleep, but the required components are MUCH harder to get). That’s awesome in and of itself, but it should just be the tip of the iceberg. If it’s just components, that encourages a scavenger hunt mentality, but when viewed as “when X, then Y” it’s revealed that this is actually a powerful tool of setting design. To come back to the teleport question – if low level teleporting is allowed to specific places (teleport circles or whatnot) then you have just added teleport circles to the world. That’s a thing.

All of which is to say, Rituals are great, but could use more meat

There’s another section on icons which follows that includes a brief history of the setting through the lens of icons and a little bit of discussion regarding how Icons might be change in name or nature. It includes an explanation of why the icons don’t have stats (yay) and why they will someday (less yay) and a chunk on insanity that I don’t quite get the relevance of. There’s also a specific callout to the various ways that visitors from other worlds (which we all understand to mean other games) can enter 13th Age.

The final section deal with Gods. and specifically how 13th Age has shuffled gods into the background with the focus on icons. This minimization makes it trivial to rotate in whatever pantheons you want without substantially changing the game. There’s a sidebar on how Tweet just sort of aggregates it all into “the gods” for day to day purposes, and it’s workable (as is the guidance regarding the Icons that some might worship as gods) but…

So, I get why this is the way it is. The icons are a big deal, and a Forgotten Realms style pantheon would really detract from that. But it feels a bit like a punt. The sense it conveys is that they’d really like to minimize the role of religion in the setting, but don’t want to come out and say as much. I dunno. Interpreted generously, it’s leaving a big question to be answered at your table , but interpreted less generously it’s kind of flat.

Anyway, this is obviously a pretty long chapter, and a few key pieces come together in it and really help sketch out the shape of how play is expected to unfold. It’s a little frustrating because some of the biggest and best ideas (icon relationships and rituals in particular) seem to get a little bit of short shrift, but it’s possible that entire books could be committed to those topics, so perhaps that is unfair of me.

More importantly, it paints more of a picture of the shape of play outside of fights, and it definitely has a specific kind of flavor, one that is pretty clearly not intended to be particularly gritty or detail-oriented. I get the sense that this is intended as sort of a natural consequence of being player-focused, and while I’m not sure I totally agree, it’s at least consistent.

I felt the Sorcerer was a great addition to the D&D Canon in 3e (much the way I feel about the Warlord in 4e). It quickly expanded beyond the core idea into incorporating things like draconic or Fae bloodlines, and I was cool with that as an option. Sorcerer became a nice catchall for a being of power, with the source of that power being a matter of fiction and perhaps a small amount of mechanics.

The 13th Age Sorcerer walks an interesting line with this. In fiction, their power is explicitly tied to an Icon, with the default assumption seeming to be that it’s tied to the the draconic icons by default. The core of this is the breath weapon, one of the class’s several features, so we’ll get to that in a minute.

The class features are Access to wizardry (so the sorcery can use wizard spells of the next step down in lieu of one of their own), Breath weapon (complicated), Chain (if you hit someone with a spell that has the “chain” keyword, on an even roll you can chain the attack onto another target, and keep going as long as you can), Dancing Lights (Dramatic lighting), Gather Power (spend an action to charge up and your next spell is doubly potent, with a randomly generated extra effect) and Random Energy (elemental effects are randomly determined by d4).

Breath weapon is not an ability in and of itself. Rather, it is the rules surrounding casting breath weapon spells that basically boil down to the fact that 25% of the time, using a breath weapon spell doesn’t use up the spell. There are complexities surrounding multiple breath weapons and such, but that’s it. There’s also an important qualifier that a breath weapon need not literally be a breath weapon, which is nice for folks who aren’t interested in the draconic angle.

Ok, admittedly, that’s a lot of stuff, and it has a pretty clear theme of randomness. If the dice get hot for a sorcerer, she’s going to be insanely fierce, but if they run cold, it could really suck. They call out in a sidebar that players with bad dice karma might want to look elsewhere, and I can’t really fault that advice. As much as I might not be a fan of high randomness in character effectiveness, I recognize that the gambling element can make it really fun.[1]

The class talents are kind of interesting. Most of them are “Arcane Heritages” which reflect which icon your power comes from/resonates with/is in some way connected. The existing options are the Archmage, the Three, the Elf Queen, the Diabolist, the Gold Wyrm or the Lich King (and if you want to really double down on one of these, there’s a “Blood Link” talent that gives you an extra relationship point with that icon). Interestingly, these are not mutually exclusive, which suggests all kinds of fun things.

Those heritages are the bulk of talents. The other two get you a familiar and make you better are spellslinging in melee, and since you start with 3 talents, you’re pretty much obliged to get at least one heritage. Obviously, they’re kind of a big deal for a Sorcerer.

Mechanically, they’re ok, though the Lich King feats are fun, and eventually involve removing exactly the body parts you might expect. But story wise? I love these. They’re a great example of the potency of the Icons as the tentpoles of setting design and their immediacy to the players. What’s more, the ability to mix and match almost demands interesting stories. Diabolist + Great Gold Wyrm? Destined to decide the fate of the rift to the Abyss. Great Gold Wyrm + The Three? Draconic Champion. Archmage + Lich King? Obviously the next Generation’s magical icon, with a voice on each shoulder. Elf Queen + The Three? Speaker for The Green.

And because of the potency of the One Unique Thing, these ideas are entirely doable in scope of the game. Really, the Sorcerer is the first point where a lot of these ideas that I’ve known are great in 13th Age really come to the surface to dance.

The actual spells are pretty straightforward. They’re largely either at-will minor attacks, or once-per-day-with-possible-recharge big whammies. It is a little interesting to see which spells have miss effects an which don’t – most of the daily spells have miss effects, but the At Wills are more mixed. There are a few utility spells, but nothing to exciting, at least until you get to the high levels. Some of these get kind of fun (like stealing allies powers or getting random demonic boons) and some are kind of “holy Crap”, such as the level 9 “Silver Flame” spell which lets you turn your connection to the Archmage directly into arcane ass kicking.

It’s worth noting that Sorcerers don’t have ritual magic, which we’ll get to later, but it’s not something you really miss if you like the style of the Sorcerer (which is basically to blow the crap out of stuff). My sole complaint is that it’s a tricky class to port to another setting since a lot of material will have to be transposed or replaced, but that’s not too much of a price.

Ok, and now for the big one. The Wizard. People have been speaking about this class in hushed tones, like some great beast just past the horizon, so I admit I’m a little nervous. But let’s see what we find.

The wizard opens interestingly. The color of magic (har har) is cut from classic D&D cloth, with spells that are written down into books, studied and memorized. However, there are explicitly no limits on this in order to avoid bookkeeping hassles. I’m sympathetic to this, but it only works to a certain point – hopefully any future supplements that add more spells will include some manner of check on this.[2] There’s also a note that Wizard effects don’t add their stat to damage. This is interesting, and I suppose it suggests a certain amount of flavor (The spell matters, not the caster) but it’s odd.

The Wizard’s class features don’t seem to daunting, but let’s look through them.
Cantrips – Ok, yes, there’s a lot of fiddly effects, but at this point we all recognize what is an effectively streamlining of the old idea of 0 level spells.

Cyclic Spells – Some spells have a “cyclic” keyword and it means that they’re encounter powers if the escalation die is 0 or odd, and at will if it’s even. That’s definitely a little wonky, and like the fighter’s ability, I don’t 100% visualize the logic, but ok.

Otherworld Advantage – In the otherworld (which is not, as you might think, the astral plane or anything, but is apparently actually the sky above the clouds, thank you index) daily spells gain recharge 16+ (meaning they recharge on a 16+ at the end of a fight).

Ritual Magic – They get ritual magic. THis is a big deal, but we’ll deal with it later in the book.

Ok, so far so good. I expect the pain is coming in the talents, so I’m going to also hit those one by one. This is the wizard. We can’t be too careful.

Abjuration – Get an Ac bonus when you cast a daily spell. Well, ok.

Cantrip Mastery – You’re awesome at Cantrips. Cool.

Evocation – Once per battle, you can maximize a spell, though you have to do this before you roll.

High Arcana – You can double-select a spell, so you can have 2 fireballs. Curiously, if this talent didn’t exist, I wouldn’t have thought that would be a problem, but there it is.

Counter-Magic Once per battle, you can make an attack to cancel a spell as someone casts it.

Vance’s Polysyllabic Verbalizations – This sounds ominous, but is actually simple. First, rename all your spells with properly Vancian[3] names (so your Fireball might become Alucard’s Most Efficacious Vermin Removal. You can even give the same spell multiple names if you like. When you cast the spell, it takes a little bit longer (as you must incant the name) but the GM is encouraged to interpret the spell in a more interesting and colorful way, one which may grant you some extra advantage. Your sleep, er, sorry, Resplendent Repose of Many Colored Dreams spell might literally wrap targets up in blankets and tuck them in. There is no obligation that these outcomes be consistent, only that they be interesting.
This one is very clearly going to weird out some players, either because they’re not used to this kind of flexibility, or because they’re not used to the GM being so critical to the improvisation process. But for players in sync with the GM, this could be a BLAST.

*Wizard’s Familiar – Yep, it gets you a familiar. Pick a critter, it gets some abilities. Easy peasy.

So far so good. Now we get to the actual spells, and we hit a weird divide: the Utility Spell. This is an idea that could probably be presented more clearly (probably as a spell[4]) but it’s straightforward enough. Imagine the “Utility Spell” to be a wildcard spell. You can memorize it at any level (like any other level 1 spell) and when you cast it, you may choose an effect from a list which includes things like disguise self, feather fall, message and so on, limited by what level you cast it at.

While conceptually awkward, this is very practical. Most of the utility spells are of the “just in case” variety. Spells like Feather Fall which, in normal D&D, might not see use for dozens of adventures, can tie up a spell slot because you want to have it on hand when you really need it. Remember how 3e introduced the idea of Clerics being able to rotate in healing spells so they didn’t have to memorize them? This serves a similar purpose for a certain category of wizard spells.

The rest of the spells seem very straightforward and largely familiar. This is mostly the Magic User’s greatest hits.

Which brings us to the end, and I gotta say – I know the wizard is officially the most complicated class, but man, the Bard was much wonkier from my perspective. But I will concede that the Wizard has some problems with presentation that make things a little bit tougher than they need to be. it also helps that we sorted out the whole issue of spell memorization back with the Cleric. So, maybe, if I was coming in blind, the Wizard would be worse, but I doubt it.

And holy crud. Finally done classes.

Ok, the Paladin may actually be a short entry. Like the Barbarian, this is a super straightforward class to play as it has no powers or spells, only talents. Admittedly, some of the talents are really pseudo-powers, but I’m getting used to that at this point. There’s some nice treatment on the handling of alignment, calling out that Paladin’s tend towards law and good, but that’s not a shackle – there’s even a talent specifically for people playing evil Paladins. I actually wished they’d expanded more on this, since as written the Paladin really works as a warrior of an ideal, whatever that ideal might be, but that’s not a complaint so much as a wish for more. Practically, Paladins are more constrained by their armor selection (go heavy or go home) than their alignment.

Interestingly, there’s only one class feature, Smite Evil (which is notably very fuzzy in its definition of evil). I call this interesting because I think of this as a less iconic ability than Laying on Hands (which is available as a talent). It was probably the right choice – making a talent lets a paladin choose if he wants to put on the healer hat rather than have it expected of him – but it caught my eye.

The talents are all pretty straightforward, and include a heal, clerical spellcasting and a taunt, which covers the required bases. I think my only concern is that there are only 8[1] of them and the Paladin (eventually) gets 5 of them. That’s not a great ratio for diversity, but I suspect it’s also something which can be opened up with further material and hacks.

Chewing on it a bit, I like the open-ended paladin, but it loses something in translation. I wish there was something to give mechanical teeth to the idea that whatever ideal you serve, you really need to stick with it, since that sort of self-imposed limitation is one of the things that makes paladin’s interesting (though the righteous and evil path talents do lean that way)[2]. That said, if you call it something other than a paladin and treat it as sort of a flexible champion of [insert cause here] then it probably holds up.

Rangers are also pretty simple (finding it curious that the fighter is more complicated than the Barbarian, Ranger or Paladin – that’s an inversion) as they also have no powers. Notably they also have no class features, just talents. I was surprised that tracking was not a class feature (since that seems like it should be universal) but figured that maybe it was left out since it’s appropriate to a background. I was wrong. There is a tracking feature and it’s…ok. You get a free background of tracker at +5, and a kind of odd stunt, but compared to the other talents it seems to fall a little short.

I’ve got no testing data to back this up, but I’m not sure why it’s not a Feature. This stands out in contrast to the Paladin who is structurally identical to the Ranger (same number of talents, no powers) but who also has a feature and better AC. Maybe the ranger talents are supposed to be just better enough to make up that gap, but I’m skeptical.

Other features cover classic ranger abilities like favored enemies, spell casting, animal companions and two weapon fighting, though I use “traditional” most loosely on that last[3]. My only real disappointment is that the ranger’s archery talent is way crappier than the fighter’s archery talent.

Notably, this also includes the animal companion rules, which are fairly straightforward. Your companion is one level lower than you, which provides baseline stats, which are modified based on the type of animal (Eagles do less damage, Snakes can inflict poison and so on). There are feats for improving your companion, and all in all it seems like a fairly substantial subsystem with a fairly substantial cost and a fairly substantial reward. If you want to be a beastmaster, it’s got you covered, for at least one big critter (and there’s another feature that can get you a small creature using the wizard’s familiar rules, if you really want)

This run of simplicity breaks with the Rogue, whose powers make her look comparable to the fighter at first glance, but who may actually be a little more involved. The first tip is in the Features – the rogue has 3 class features. Two are as expected – sneak attack and trap detection. No shock there. The third is an idea called “momentum”. It’s not a power, but a state: a rogue gains momentum when he hits someone, and loses it when he’s hit. Many rogue powers only work when the rogue has momentum. Some cost momentum to use, others do not.

This looks really interesting on paper, and I’ll be curious to see it in action. It’s a nicely generalized “setup” mechanic, and you usually only see those in magic systems (summon power), but tying it to action can really drive play in a fight, as you have to take into account whether the choice you make will help you get or maintain momentum.[4]

The talents are interesting, in a mixed sense. A lot of them are straightforward – swap INT for CHA for some powers, Be more brutal in combat and so on, but a couple of them stood out as oddballs.

There is a Thievery talent which is very similar to the Ranger one – you get a “Thief” background at +5 (but no extra bonus, aside from the opportunity to buy feats). I admit I’m not sure why this is a talent and Trap Sense is a feature. It feels like the iron fist of the dungeon at work.

Improved Sneak Attack is something I never like seeing because in every game I’ve seen, it’s basically mandatory, since sneak attack damage is so essential to the overall combat effectiveness of the rogue. This does not seem to break the trend.

The “Smooth Talk” talent is fascinating, and I think people will love or hate it. It hangs a lantern on one of the worst abuses of social play and runs with it. Basically, once per day, if you (the player) can persuade the GM (the person) with your line of bullshit, then you have a 50/50 chance of establishing a temporary relationship with an Icon (which cascades into influencing the situation in play). Historically, player persuasiveness trumping mechanics is something of a bugbear in social interaction design, but explicitly creating a mechanical space for that persuasiveness is….kind of neat. I totally want to see it in action more, esp. because I suspect its value varies from table to table.

Similarly, the “Swashbuckle” talent kind of cuts both ways. It lets you expend momentum to narrate doing something awesome, dramatic and swashbuckly. But my instinctive reaction is “Wait, so I can’t do that normally?” The authors are aware of this, and address it a little, asserting that the talent means you often succeed automatically where others might need to make a difficult skill roll. That feels like half an answer to me, especially because most swashbuckling stuff is a more colorful path to the same end, so the interaction with dice is not always clear. But for a table that does not feel it has the freedom to do these kinds of things, the explicit invitation offered by the talent is pretty cool. So, like Smooth Talk, I’m not sure that works equally well at every table.

The actual powers themselves are pretty straightforward, with the only real potential confusion coming if you haven’t fully grokked momentum. They reinforce the basic idea of the rogue as a fast moving, mobile fighter with the potential to get off more attacks. They do an interesting job of keeping the effects interesting (and balanced by the need for momentum) so there’s no automatic decision to drop all low level powers in favor of high level ones.

Ok, 3 down, 2 to go. I’ve been warned that the last, the Wizard, is even more complicated than the Bard, so this should be a fun ride.