Using Class Primers to Help with a Vibe

Night is a setting for my heavily-customized 5e game. I was a coward when I first started running it and allowed all the base classes, though I did require players to read the following text boxes for their class. 

I actually think this worked really well, to be honest. I didn't need to spring too much lore on them in game but it was enough they understood that this was a different type of game with a different feel--a different vibe--and it let them get into character quickly. As they grew more comfortable with the story, it stopped really even feeling like 5e, though we used the same base ruleset. This is actually where I began formalizing my Game Vibes theory. Build the vibes to build a fun game, beyond the rules themselves. 

Anyhow, if you're at all interested what this looked like in practice, I copied my class primers below: 

Classes: Classes suggest social roles, and NPCs need not use these specific rules

Barbarian: There is no urban, cosmopolitan impulse, nor distinct nationalities, in post-Sundown Taurica, so “barbarian” likely reflects more on the character’s personality, such as their penchant for rage or their devotion to pagan idols instead of the Church. It could also refer to a character from a particularly-remote region where agriculture is not practiced and humans live more nomadic lives. In Chalcedon, ‘barbarians’ would see no particular stigma, though they may draw attention as curious outsiders. 

A player barbarian might seek the sunstone simply to gain their power, with less question about their theological importance. Who wouldn’t want to live forever?


Bard: Bards are a common fixture of social life in Taurica and generally well-received. They are among the most common itinerant travelers and their storytelling is the primary news-sharing organ for lay people. With the vast majority of production being local, professional merchants are uncommon, so bards usually play that role as well, leading caravans of both performers and specialty goods such as jewelry or exotic metals. Their arrival in a new town is usually heralded as a fair, where they stage productions and market their goods.

“Bard” is a common term, but they are as often known simply as “caravaneers,” “travelers,” or “

Most bards do not possess spellcasting ability, but many have learned similar tricks and even some minor conjurations from their fellows on the road. Bards that possess such power generally include it in their act, with many even posing as full-fledged magicians. 


A player Bard possibly seeks adventure and new material for their storytelling, as the Sunstones always promise drama and excitement far greater than rural life can ever rival. 


Cleric: Overwhelmingly, clergy serve the Church of the Night Mother, which leads worship in nearly every village in Taurica. The church fills many roles in society, being often the only source of organized social services. As such, clerics are respected but commonplace enough that individual clerics do not impress commonfolk through rank alone. 

Within the Church, clerics belong to one of many Orders, each with their own internal politics and theological foci; at its head, the various Bishops and Mothers Superior decide Church governance via complex elections. Though socially generous,the Church is still temperamentally conservative and views the maintenance of tradition as its most important role, which can frustrate reformist clergymen.

Clerics with divine abilities are viewed as particularly impressive, though it does not technically allow them to skip stages as they rise in the church hierarchy. Nearly all bishops and Mothers Superior have great divine ability. 

Generally, male clerics are addressed as “father,” while female clerics are addressed as “mother,” though the generic “priest” can apply to either.

Clerics can exist outside of official Church hierarchy, but all true clerics draw their power from the Night Mother, so a player may be a heretic but they can never be a heathen. 

A player Cleric could be investigating the Sunstones: the church has yet to form an official policy on the metaphysical qualities of the stones or the significance of their use, and the cleric is attempting to learn more.


Druid: Druids represent animist faiths that were ancient even in the time of the Sun. The majority of NPC “druids” are simply lay members of woodland cults. Druids with true divine power are rare, and a player’s chosen Circle represents the last members of that order. The disappearance of the Sun is of enormous importance to all druids, most of whom seek its return though with no clear concept of how. Some druids revere the Moon and actively oppose the restoration of daylight, however. 

There is no overt social stigma against Druidism; which most see as harmless folk tradition. The Church of the Night Mother discourages nature worship but tolerates it as a misguided worship of the Night Mother’s blessings. 

Player druids are likely agents of their order, seeking sunstones as part of a larger plan to restore the sun or maintain its absence. It is possible, given the hierarchical and secretive nature of druids, that the player does not even know why they are so assigned. 


Fighter: Large-scale warfare is rare in Taurica, so fighter PCs are likely more akin to roaming quest-knights, monster-hunters, and treasure-seekers than soldiers. In most towns, crime and punishment is handled by ad hoc assemblies of citizens; only the larger settlements have dedicated warriors working as bridge-guards, monster hunters, or similar order-enforcing roles. Particularly-gifted fighters may abandon such mundane work and elect a nomadic, if challenging, life.

Local folk generally react to newly-arrived fighters as one might view any heavily-armed stranger: with suspicion until they are better known. 

Fighters are an enormously-diverse group, but a player-fighter could be a youth with a longing for adventure instead of humdrum village life or a swordsman seeking a compelling foe. Pursuit of sunstones promises adventure, danger, and more.


Monk: Monks represent religious figures who have accepted sacred poverty, but not necessarily the specific education to become an ordained priest. Monks are sworn members of a monastic order, and are fundamentally religious figures, not martial. Monks are sworn not to bring death upon any human, venerate the Night Mother, and to always serve the needy. That aside, they enjoy particular freedom with few professional responsibilities.

Monks are literate, and in fact often the best-educated people in any particular town, as they can give themselves over to reading and writing full-time while the local priests need to minister and serve their flock. Monks are often employed as teachers in the church schools, helping smallfolk gain a grasp of basic literacy, numeracy, and theology. 

This same combination of free time and erudition feeds another trait not universal, but common, among the monks: their specific study of athletics and martial prowess. The ancients felt a strong mind was wasted in a weak body, and many monks agree, dedicating significant sums of time to exercise and even outright aestheticism; a rare trait in this age. 

The central class concept of ‘Ki’ is an abstraction the monk may or may not make; they would certainly use a term such as “energy” or “inner light” instead.

Monks can be odd, colorful characters, and many do not always live up their vows. However, it is rare for them to be truly malicious or bellicose. 

Like clerics, monks are usually referred to as “brother” or “sister,” though they do not have any particular legal authority and enjoy no special privilege except respect. Itinerant monks that wander from town to town preaching and begging are known specifically as “Friars.”

A monk PC would most likely be driven by a desire to solve the mystery of the missing sun; their martial prowess being borne of their unyielding faith rather than any ideological obsession with unarmed combat. 


Paladin: Paladins represent the executive arm of the Church of the Night Mother, where they belong to an order known specifically by that name. Paladins are the church’s ultimate answer to crises, and they can expect significant support from local religious officials. Despite this, paladins are not aristocrats--like monks, they are sworn to individual poverty and can never own more than they can carry on a single horse. 

Unlike monks, paladins are legally and theologically empowered to take human lives, though they are expected to perform full rites for the deceased and provide a report of their actions to the local parish. Paladins are expected to master a variety of weapons, but consider the sword the most vital and the lance the most noble. Beyond warfighting, paladins are expected to be leaders, organizers, and planners in a wide range of disasters, from outbreaks of disease to wildfire evacuations. 

Paladins are recruited, often from church orphanages, though volunteers are accepted. Squires must demonstrate unfailing self-control, generosity, piety, and mercy for a period of at least three years before swearing themselves to the Order, while they are trained in combat, theology, and etiquette. Once sworn, they are granted relative freedom to travel from parish to parish, seeking injustice. Most paladins swear themselves to a particular “Quest,” which can be anything from a hunt for a particular criminal to a yearslong attempt to recover a lost relic. At any moment, a Paladin can be ordered into service by a bishop, most typically in response to the appearance of monstrous creatures. 

Paladins are among the most beloved members of society. Paladins of particular bravery and beauty are common heroes in folktales; young children often play Paladins and Dragons with sticks as swords. It is a difficult and demanding life, however, spent primarily in travel from calamity to calamity, and relatively few people devote themselves to it. 

Not all paladins carry divine powers as per the Paladin class; however, members of the Order are generally competent, intelligent, and charismatic individuals; they are almost never corrupt. 

Paladins are addressed as “Sir” or “Lady,” as per their choice, with high-ranking paladins being “Masters.”  Male paladins have a greater tendency to fall in love during their travels and leave the order to become fathers than their counterparts, causing the Masters to skew slightly female.  Even the most-lauded paladin Master is expected to consort with the lowest members of society and model endless grace and forgiveness even upon the lowest sinners.


A player paladin is possibly a “missionary” sent by a larger Cathedral to support the local parish. Sunstones are associated with the appearance of monsters and occult forces; it is the church’s duty to protect the flock from such abominations. The stones themselves are worthy of study.


Ranger: Rangers are omnipresent in Taurica, if rarely seen. Hunters, guides, spies, and even mercenaries at times, rangers are the most common people found traversing the nearly-endless wildlands. Though most are more comfortable in the veil of shadow than the firelit towns, human civilization could not survive without them.

Travel is difficult in the shadowed forests. Rangers specialize in surviving the gloom, and in their travels often encounter inexplicable relics of the bygone age. While they lack any central organization, the men and women who make their living along dark footpaths tend to recognize one another easily and have become the class most knowledgeable about the Sunstones, their mysterious appearances, and their effect on the world around them.

While rangers in general can be from any number of backgrounds, a particular subgroup are the rangers called Vigilants. They are the descendents of the last centralized human kingdom, an elite force meant to protect the crown’s far-flung estates even amidst the gloom. Their mission failed, yet their tradition descended through generations of new recruits. Today, they form an unofficial brotherhood that cooperate to protect civilization from the alien threats lurking in the dark.  

A player ranger is likely in pursuit of sunstones not only out of ambition and curiosity, but because they have seen firsthand the fiery trails they cut through the night sky, and the bizarre warping effect they wreak upon the nearby life that is normally so calm and mundane. 


Rogue: Rogues are not a social class so much as a temperament: those for whom idyllic rural life will never be enough. Jokesters, thieves, con artists; they are bored by agriculture, disinterested in raising a family, and unimpressed by piety. In any town, there are a handful of such characters: second sons about whom everyone has a(n often alcohol-fumed) story; pretty daughters who just can’t seem to settle on a husband; children who just don’t act or feel the way society wants them to. Often, if the pressure of conformity grows too strong, such characters set out to wander the Night, hoping to find a place where they can finally feel at home. 

More darkly, rogues can represent those who, for whatever reason, harbor a desire to inflict pain or death on other humans: a predilection highly-alienating in the cohesive village-communes of Taurica. 

A player rogue seeks a world beyond their village, which they likely view not merely as boring but actively stifling. The sunstones alone seem to offer a pathway to a life of color and the power to make their own destiny. 


Sorcerer: Sorcerers are heavily impacted by this setting. In Taurica, magic is rare, though not unheard of. Magicians exist, often as strange hermits but also as wandering showmen and miracle-workers for hire. These people sometimes possess limited power, but as frequently they are mere showmen; as such most people view talk of “magic” with polite skepticism. However, in rare circumstances, young girls are born with undeniable magical gifts. 

In early childhood, these gifts manifest in subtle and uncontrolled ways, but by early adulthood these women gain enough control over their powers they can exert them by choice. It is possible they have hidden their powers from those around them, but no sorcerer is surprised by her powers, which feel as intrinsic to them as their hands or eyes. 

Sorcerers are always women of surpassing beauty, which coupled with their magic lends them incredible social repute. Tall tales of cruel witches, kind enchantresses, and tempestuous conjurers wind their way through every culture in Taurica, rooted in both the reality of these women and healthy doses of human fabulation. Despite the ubiquitous stories, these women are vanishingly rare and nearly everyone who claims to have met one is lying. 

The true sorcerers, of whom there may be only a dozen at a time, are withdrawn figures of incredible power, engaged in mystical work beyond the understanding of common men. While presumably mortal, they seem to live forever, though there are legends of evil witches being dispatched by clever heroes. 

The existence of sorcerers--under any number of names, such as witch--is often doubted, but the Church of the Night Mother is aware of their factual existence. In secretive conclaves, they have for years debated the significance of these women: some seeing them as incidental and unimportant, some seeing them as a worrisome threat to be investigated, and others proposing divine relevance, even going as far as suggesting direct connection to the Night Mother. 

While mechanically any Sorcerous Origin is presumably acceptable, the player and DM must to reconfigure the framing, as all sorcerers in Taurica share a single Origin, the details of which are nebulously understood. 

The player should select an origin and use its ruleset, but to their knowledge there is nothing unique about their heritage and their unusual powers seem to have appeared purely by chance. 

While magicians of various kinds are common, and some even possess minor tricks, true sorcerers are singular to the point of being unique. 

A player sorcerer would most likely be a young woman, taking her first steps on the dangerous road to power. While entirely ignorant of the reason, she realizes her unique nature and seeks answers in the one thing as alien and powerful as herself: the sunstones. 


Warlock: To the common folk, “warlocks” are no different from sorcerers: mystical figures borne more of tall tale than reality, if always possibly lurking in the shadowed woods. However, warlock-like figures are in reality vastly more common, if typically less powerful. The specific mechanics of the Warlock class only apply to player characters: occultist NPCs may or may not follow warlock patterns. 

For players, Warlocks are mechanically unchanged, but occult forces in Taurica are even more veiled than elsewhere: whatever pact the warlock sealed mechanically, it behaves in-game as a pact with a particular, nameless Great Old One. There is no suggestion of what the alien entity is or what it desires, though it can grant any Pact. The player receives only vague and inscrutable omens, such as disturbing dreams or faint, momentary hallucinations. There are times they feel a compulsion to carry out particular acts, but these acts lack pattern and often lack apparent impact at all, such as opening a window at a certain hour or hunting down and killing a particular blackbird. Among these compulsions is a desire to acquire sunstones that surpasses all others. 

A warlock, by definition, would be a player character. Whatever their personal ambitions, they feel an overwhelming urge to seek and ingest the power of sunstones.



Wizard: Magic today is rare, but was once a central force in the sunbaked empires of old. Aside from the Church of the Night Mother, a single, obscure organization still maintains a fraction of its ancient power: The College of Taurica. 

The location of the College is secret, and so little is known of the organization many think it a myth. But the College is real, and for a thousand years it has survived more losses and battles than it can ever reveal. 

The College trains wizards in the ancient art of magic; specifically the potent form of arcane magic that once fueled empires. Wholly secular, the College’s magic relies on complex mathematical and philosophical theories understood by no other people today. As such, it poses no challenge to the Church of the Night Mother’s authority, with which it enjoys tacit relations as the only fellow intellectual body.  

Wizards themselves are academics, with no interest in political gain, conquest, or the acquisition of wealth. While powerful, their magic is far weaker than it was in ancient times, and their work is focused on research, rather than practice. 

The spellbook is the central tool of the class, and is a nearly-irreplaceable artifact. Fewer than one hundred spellbooks remain, all the creations of the mage-kings of ancient times. The bizarre runes and incantations scribed within are impossible to decipher, but they can be invoked and manipulated with proper study. As such, most people have no understanding of their value and would fail to recognize a wizard as opposed to a simple church scholar. 

Conversely, all wizards recognize one another on both personal and professional levels. 

Wizards generally prefer to remain cloistered together at the College proper with its abundant resources and endless library archives. 

Obsessive archivists, the 5 Regents of the College are well aware their roster is at an all-time low, with a total faculty of less than 50 wizards. 

The College is collegiate, but sensitive archival research is reserved for senior wizards, while newer initiates are often tasked with less-desirable field research. A player wizard could be relatively young and just beginning their career, having either been assigned or chosen to investigate the nature of sunstones. Authoring a pioneering paper on these could open doors to the most sensitive collections in the College library: the ultimate dream of any wizard.


Against the Internet

 It's too late. This kingdom is crumbling. We should take what few treasures we can carry and flee. The enemy isn't just at the gates--they're already inside. Our soldiers are abandoning their posts; many have disappeared; many have succumbed to the sickness that is eating this land from the inside out. We don't have long before this place is a wasteland and we have to be ready or we will lose everything.



I hear the internet used to be good. There were websites. People talked to one another and made friends. People shared recipes. I'm not sure what else they did, to be honest. I wasn't there. It's a hazy, mythic era full of vaguely-defined heroes; heroes which, as is usually the case with classic literature, don't always stand up to moral scrutiny. "Anonymous." Hackers. Dissidents in repressive states. Dissidents in free states. Perverts. All nebulously united in a grand experiment in personal freedom, the free exchange of information, and the creation of digital communities.

That has never been my experience. 

I'm going to stake out a radical position that I'll probably walk back, but until that time, I will believe fervently: the internet is a mistake, a bad thing built on a bad foundation, and a great deal of it is actively destroying the few good parts of it.

I'll start with the parts that you'll probably agree with, because you're reading this on the internet. I do like that I can read individual  people's work. "Blogs." A hideous word for the single best thing on the internet. I suppose for a lot of people they're "newsletters" now, which is less ugly but more pretentious; it also forces it to sound like a political thing. I don't want to get a "newsletter" from my favorite poet. My elementary school sent "newsletters."

I like to read, so I like being able to read lots and lots, and usually for free. That's nice. There are so many things I wouldn't have read if not for the internet. 

I also like, I think, being able to talk to other people I don't know in a mostly safe environment. That sounds specific because it is. I don't think anonymous chat sites are good ideas. I don't think most social media is a good idea. Ask me how many girls I know who have been groomed, stalked, harassed, blackmailed, or catfished online. I don't mean "got a nasty comment," either. I mean like actual adult men propositioning them; looking for their addresses; trying to break into their phones. Lately a lot of them have been put into AI and stripped. The AI doesn't seem to notice they're not 18; I guess you could just tell it they are.

I also like streaming music, though I live next to some of the best CD stores on this planet and have no intention to stop buying them. 

I think that's it. 

What, no Youtube?

No. That place is stupid. I don't like it. Skibidi doo away. 

But what about THIS video? It's a French artist's hand-drawn masterpiece! 

It's very impressive! Did you realize you're spending 14 hours a day on your phone? 

But this is how I learn about--

Shut up shut up shut up shut up

No, really, I learned how to unclog my drain-

Really, I believe you. Fine. Youtube is fine if you're using to unclog your drain or learn any other specific skill. Conservatively, what percentage of YT do you think that is? Did you ever notice there's a "Youtube Kids" and some kids spend hours a day staring at it? Did you ever notice these kids lose their minds when their tablet is taken away? Did you ever realize how scary that is? Did you know half my middle school couldn't read a paragraph without reaching for their phones?

Okay, what about Wikipedia?

I don't know. I don't use it that often. I have several actual encyclopedia and I live in a bookstore and I have a library card. 

But what if you have to look up the history of Guam?

I haven't had to. How often are you doing that? Or are you just flipping through pages, learning 1% of nothing, playing Reverse Trivial Pursuit at 11 AM?

What's Trivial Pursuit?

I played it a lot with my grandpa when he was in the hospital. I don't believe I literally ever got a question right. Most of the time I didn't even understand what it was asking. "Who played Porgie Bass in the 1945 BaseBall Film Man "Dog Dreamer Day?"'

Are you having an episode?

I don't think you need Wikipedia as much as you think. But sure, fine. It's probably the best thing on the internet. I do like knowledge. You can keep Wikipedia and YouTool. 

What else is there? Netflix? Eww. Lame. The only TV worth watching is reruns of SVU. Amazon? The evil company that's going to buy the sun? Meta? They're somehow even worse. ChatGPT? 

Don't say those words to me. ChatGPT, and the virus that animates it and all its sisters, are what's eating your world and reducing it to ruin. My hatred of the internet is powerless and impotent. I'm 5'2''. I don't like to use most websites but I can't keep them from you.

AI can. And will. It already is. It's turning everything to sludge. It's sucking up everything you write and everything everyone else writes and spitting out a slurry and there's nothing you can do to stop it. 

You're reaching a hysterical register. What are you talking about?

I haven't eaten in 24 hours. I'm getting angry. It's...probably not the internet's fault. It's probably fine. I might be getting irrational. This might not really be about the internet at all, or AI, or whatever I was trying to get at. 

Are you just bitter you deactived your TT?

I HAD A THOUSAND FOLLOWERS.

...


I'm going to post this because, at the very least, people deserve to see what I do when I'm cranky and it's 1 AM and I'm flopping around in bed and very very unhappy. I suppose it's exhibitionism?


Worldbuilding only matters if the Mechanics Support the World


Sword-Coast D&D is so dominant that it's not only the assumed setting for all D&D campaigns, it has become the default setting for essentially all western fantasy. When someone wants to break out of the mold they need to open their story with a rape or a brutal beheading; get that Game of Thrones energy on display, otherwise everyone is going to start looking around for kobolds. 

This isn't a bad thing; I like the Forgotten Realms, I think. It's a fun place full of adventure and bright colors and wizards and curses. I like fantasy. I love it, in fact. 

But I do sometimes want a different kind of story. One that doesn't slot into the same grooves as thousands of other games. We live in a world of imagination and I want to use it. So every now and then I'll bang together a new world, one utterly distinct from the Sword Coast, with a history and culture and its own monsters and cities and cosmology. And I'll drop my players into it, and--

Look, you know what happens. The same things. The fighter fights, the wizard casts his spells, they talk to people, they seek treasure, they make a balanced party. They do the same stuff, just in a different place.

I think this bothers some worldbuilders and leads to them starting to preach. "No, there's no monarchy in this land," they'll say after you roll a 9 on your knowledge check and they decide yes, absolutely sure, you know a little bit, and it is the following 6 paragraphs speech about a republican revolution led by Githyanki slaves; when you finish your players are texting and nodding, 4% more dead than before. Preaching is the enemy. Unless you're Homer, you're probably not cut out for it. 

But then how do you get the players to appreciate this world? They aren't interacting with it! They're just...playing D&D; it's as if they're in Waterdeep! 

It's one thing to create a new and specific setting; but if the players are given the exact same tools, they're probably going to keep using them in the same way. Why shouldn't they? They don't know the world and they sure don't want to study your dissertation; that's not why anyone plays an RPG. They want to be part of a world, not listen to someone talk about it. So how can you make them be part of it?

Take away their options. 

Well, you can add some, if you like. But I'd recommend stripping out; D&D is a hugely broad game. It might not be GURPS, whatever that is, but it allows for nearly any stock fantasy cliche. And that's the problem: you don't want a stock fantasy cliche; you want extensions of your world. So to do that: change the options. Outlaw classes, limit gear, change the game. Force them to realize they're not playing in Faerun! 

Obviously you should let them know beforehand; some people really want to play a Kenku. They're my enemy, these people, but I will grant them the right to happiness; provided they stay out of my group. Let them know this campaign has limits. Once the familiar tools are out of reach, they'll start grasping for new ones. And then they'll start gripping your world. And then you don't need to preach--they'll learn the world just by being part of it. 



Against Magic Systems, Volume I

  I don't really like magic systems. In fact, I'll go further: I don't like the idea of even calling magic a "system."...