Strong Magic Cursed

I forget where in the multitudinous blogoland, but someone posted a comment to the effect that high-level characters in Lamentations of the Flame Princess (think basic D&D with player character power dialed a bit down) don't do well in high-level AD&D modules made for more souped-up characters.That may be so - and is doubly true of my own 52 Pages rules where you can't come in with 4 magic missiles and 2 fireballs prepared at the same time.

I mean, great. The less overwhelming your high-level characters, the more you approach the ideal where big scary monsters are actually a threat to them rather than resorting to blind-tiger gimmicks ("you wake up naked and bereft in an anti-magic zone") or stupid dumb munchkin armies of 4 beholders and 20 frost giants, etc. The fewer bonuses pile up on them, the less you feel you need to compensate in an eternal treadmill of armor class and hit bonuses.

Now, another assumption of high-level AD&D, that grittier referees may balk at, is the ubiquity of magic items. A 7th level character in AD&D is likely to be tricked out in at least +2 everything, or a couple of wands and many lesser items if a spellcaster. One answer to this, of course, is the low-magic campaign where items are rare. The answer I prefer is "keep Fantasia weird" and filled with magic, but balance strong magic - most +2 and definitely all +3 and above - with the cosmic revenge of the universe on tools that so defiantly flout its laws - with the karmic debt paid for owning a sword that cleaves bronze like butter - with, quite simply, the human energy cost of a stick that shoots death. Something's got to pay somewhere.

(In effect - a shallower and broader implementation of the 1st edition AD&D "random drawback" approach to artifact-level magic.)

30 Random Drawbacks for Magic Weapons and Armor (d20, -5 at +2, +5 for each plus above +2)
"Armor" here includes shields.

0 or less: No drawback
1: -3 to a random saving throw.
2: -1 to all saving throws.
3: Accentuates your worst personality traits. -2 Charisma
4: Constant whispering sound makes it hard to concentrate. -2 Intelligence
5: Estranges you from God and nature. -2 Wisdom
6: Exhausting to wield. -1 Strength if an armor, -1 Constitution if a weapon.
7: Makes unexpected, clumsy, confining moves. -1 Dexterity.
8: Take 1 hp damage when you equip it.
9: Take 1 hp damage when you un-equip it.
10: If you die while wielding/wearing it, you rise immediately as an undead creature of hit dice appropriate to your level, and attack the party immediately.
11: Has minuses instead of pluses when fighting one creature type (reptiles, undead, humans, etc.)
12: Animals are unfriendly to you while carrying it.
13: +1 of its enchantment vanishes for the day when you hit (weapon) or are hit (armor) on a natural 13.
14: You need to eat five times as much on any day you use it in combat.
15: While wielding or wearing it, unintelligent enemies attack you by choice.
16: When you are aware of an enemy, you have +3 move to go towards them, and -3 to go away.
17: To enjoy its magical benefit, requires you to forswear your religion and follow an obscure, nearly-dead god, wearing its symbol and following its strange customs.
18: Can't heal HP while you're carrying/wearing it.
19: Glows visibly when enemies are near, within 60'... but only if you already know they're near.
20: Jealous ... drops from your grasp if you're carrying another weapon (weapon), falls off your body if you're carrying any other magic item (armor).
21: Each time you do (weapon) or take (armor) 8 or more HP of damage in one blow, you lose 1 HP.
22: Fogs your vision, you can only see 30' in dim light.
23: Makes an audible screaming sound when it hits (weapon) or when you are hit (armor).
24: Only has its magical powers each day if exposed to the rays of the dawn.
25: You must rest and not attack one round out of five while wielding or wearing the item.
26: You lose the ability to speak while wielding/wearing it.
27: Gives -1 to hit (if armor) or 1 worse armor class (if weapon).
28: You hit your nearby friends (weapon) or your nearby friends hit you (armor) on a natural to hit roll of 3.
29: Any NPC's who see it and are able to wield/wear it must save (Will/WIS/spell) or become covetous and scheme to take it from you.
30: Powerful wizard/demon/undead creature thinks the item is theirs and begins pursuing you d4 weeks after you acquire the item.

High Numbers Should Mean Something

From the halcyon days of 2008, and the workshop of 4th Edition, comes this testimonial to the Ever-Rising Statistical Treadmill as design principle:

For example, we strongly disliked the inability of 3rd Edition D&D’s negative-hit-point model to deal with combat at higher levels—once the monsters are reliably dealing 15 or 20 points of damage with each attack, the chance of a character going straight from “alive and kicking” to “time to go through his pockets for loose change” was exceedingly high; effectively, the -1 to -9 “dying” range was meaningless. 

Okay. You've already survived two or three blows that would have pasted a lesser character. You are still on your feet and alive. And you are irked that the next blow certainly would kill you dead. You feel entitled to more, somehow, as a hero.

Think of it this way instead:

• When, as a low level fighter, you are one wimpy blow away from permanent death - you are at -5 hit points or something, unable to move or do anything else.

• When, as a high level fighter, you are one mighty blow away from permanent death - you are on your feet, able to flee, distract, negotiate.

yawn

This is known as a qualitative difference between low and high level play. It's what makes a giant's tree-limb club truly scary, rather than being just a force-multiplied kobold shillelagh.  Or to be (urk) simulationist about it - if negative hit points represent the wracking of your body instead of the wearing away of your heroism, how the hell does your twelfth-level body attain the durability of titanium, as in 4th Edition with its negative hit point threshold based on half the positive total?

Let's take another failure of imagination:

Ask any high-level fighter whether he’d prefer the second-to-last attack from a monster to leave him at 1 hp or -1 hp; I’d put odds on unconsciousness, and how lame is that?

Hold on. This preference has to be based on monsters who you know will rationally leave alone the fallen heroes to go after the living. In the world of Wizards D&D, are no creatures sadistic, hungry, bent on kidnapping, or mindlessly corrosive? Shouldn't you be just as worried about ending up on the floor in a dungeon fight as in a bar fight?  Don't some monsters save their second-to-last attack to see what your head looks like when it pops like a coconut?

What's more, we are also imagining heroes who at 1 hp, or even 10 hp when fighting an average 20 damage dealer, irrationally fight on, instead of realizing they are near death and they need to go home NOW. If being unconscious is so great? Then fall down and fake it after the blow that turns you into a 1 hp fighter. The monster will go on to the next guy automatically and you probably won't even have to make a Bluff check.
Whatever system you're in, as I've mentioned before, approaching combat like a Rock'em Sock'em Robots toe-to-toe battle game is to blame for these absurdities. Fighting should be deadly, cruel, guileful - and it should not feel the same when you're battling orcs at level 1 as when you're battling giants at level 8.

Boring Combat 4: How Boring Are High Levels?

And now to the alleged problem that started all these musings. Do high-level combats really degenerate into boring slog-fests, wading through morasses of hit dice to get to the kill?

Well, let's start out dividing high-level monsters into those who got there by virtue of their enormous size, and those who are a more reasonable size but super specially tough and magic.

Those latter creatures - vampires, beholders, liches, dragons, demons and so on - have loads of spells, powers, and attacks to justify their challenge. Fighting them should be harrowing, not boring. If it's boring, what are you still doing playing the same characters? Are the so tricked out that they make every saving throw, dodge every attack? After the beholder should there come the uber-beholder, in an ever-swelling progression of N+5 hit dice? Maybe in a computer game, or an RPG that needs to sell more and more game books to the power-mad adolescent mentality. But anyway, that's a different topic.

Now, you get the big, big monsters at risk for being boring in the mathematical sense, with lots of hit dice and not a lot of special gimmickry. Not sentient, so they don't come with cool stuff like allies or siege engines or tactical setups. Big lumpy things like ... er ... dinosaurs. And mammoths. Elephants, too. Whales?

Not the only way to add interest value.

You see the problem here - at high levels, you don't run into those creatures a lot. And when you do, it's likely to be outdoors. So running the combat, you'll realize that there's actually a lot going on when a thirty-foot long dinosaur rampages through a jungle forest or a rocky outcropping. It crashes into branches and trunks, sending them flying. It sends boulders rolling. It bites you at the front, stomps you if you get underfoot (and best believe it will be rolling into close combat range to do just that), and if you come around at the back there's a thrashing tail that sends you flying. They don't need fiery breath or magic spells - sheer size and momentum will do the trick.

Those aren't in the rules as written? So what! You're playing old school and it's your game. Later editions sure as hell try to build this kind of special excitement into every monster, calling them special attacks or feats or daily powers or whatever. You, too, at every level of challenge, should be thinking what makes this creature's fight different. A guy with a sword, even the most magical sword, shouldn't be able to bring a dinosaur down even after hacking at its left toe for ten minutes. Make them do something dramatic for the kill, use the climbing-on rules, run and jump into its open mouth. Treat the combat as a living riddle, not an exercise in subtraction, and your players will feel they're working for the kill - not just adding escalation factors.

Okay. My campaign begins again on Saturday (and then immediately goes on hiatus for three weeks as I gallivant about stateside.) I doubt any dinosaurs will come up, but you never know.

High-level D&D Combat: General Escalation

From the comments and my own thinking it seems that the new solutions to the grind of high-level combat break into two categories: escalation of the numbers involved, and giving higher-level characters additional abilities and feats that help make combat faster and more interesting.

In both these classes, a solution should have the following features:

1. If optional, should give some self-evident advantage to the players using it, without mathy thinky gamey time. This rules out things like "you may optionally double your damage if you accept double damage against you," because using that optimally will require you to think in terms of who is likely to do how much damage and have how many hit points.

2. Should balance out the excitement between early and later rounds - either by shortening the number of "early" rounds to get to the crucial rounds (early-combat escalation) or by escalating the later rounds so they get more crucial (late-combat escalation).

3. Should deliver a different feel to the long-lasting high level combats, as compared to the short and deadly low level ones.

Let's consider escalation rules. This was actually on my mind because of the recent discussion of fatigue on A Paladin in Citadel. While most fatigue rules make people less competent as they get tired, that is realistic, boring, and drags out combat even longer rather than speeding and spicing it up.

Here, I'm leaning toward late-combat escalation, because it's a rule you can apply at all levels of play. If that fight against orcs grinds on,  then I guess things get more deadly too ... but it's rare to see that level of combat last for more than six real rounds of action.

Introducing ... the escalation die.

It comes out when the first Escalation Event occurs, set to 1, and goes up by one for each subsequent Escalation Event. What is that, you ask? Just something that happens when one of two numbers is rolled on a d20 in skirmish combat for whatever reason - hit roll, saving throw, ability check.

If you don't have critical hits or fumbles, those two numbers can be 1 or 20. Otherwise, may I suggest lucky 7 and unlucky 13.

The effect is quite simple: the number currently showing on the die is added to all "to hit" rolls and damage rolls while combat is ongoing. The maximum value of the die is the level of the highest level PC in the fight.

For each round of break in the combat with no attempts to hit on either side, reduce the die by one.

Obviously, this shouldn't be used in mass missile fire, so only the PCs and their immediate foes are affected (that is, those fighting them).

Although I've yet to test this system on high-level characters, the good thing about it is that it lets the players get some fair idea of the capabilities of their foes, then tells them exactly how dangerous combat is getting as it goes along.

Next up ... feats.

High-level D&D Combat: Existing Solutions

How to make D&D combat between hit point juggernauts different from combat between glass-jaw first-levels, but fun at the same time?

One option for reaching a Conanesque height of excitement in every fight is just, you know, don't play D&D. Play an abstract system like Tunnels & Trolls where any level of combat is over quickly. But the trouble with T&T, as we discussed, is that the fights are not detailed enough to give a sense of evolution over time.



Immortal level: was this any fun?

 OK, so play a fixed-hits system like Runequest where every fight could be a character's last if the dice roll badly. But the trouble with fixed-hits systems is that players actually want to protect their high-level characters with the Kevlar of massive hit points. Now, this goal can be achieved by having something like "fate points" that are spent only in the most mortal bind. Indeed, realistic-combat-plus-safety-net is a design solution that most systems converge toward once they leave hit points behind. It's easily enough implemented in a D&D framework, but it also takes the game away from one of the defining characteristics of D&D.

I know they're much reviled among the Old School, but the Wizards editions of D&D were developed with an eye toward player experience at all levels, and their solution was to give higher-level characters more feats and options in combat. In 3rd and 4th editions, you're too busy using your great variety of combat moves to realize that this fight has taken 20 rounds as you go to town on a 200 hit point colossal dire wombatborn ear seeker. Dismiss it as you may, I think I'd rather play that way at high levels than just step up, roll d20 and swing for 20 rounds.

But why should the combat take 20 rounds? The E6 approach to 3rd edition aims at making big monsters a bigger challenge by capping hit point advancement at level 6, while allowing the addition of feats and skills to give the sense of some kind of advancement, as well as the aforementioned qualitative increase in combat options. If you're facing something really terrible - like going up solo against a stegosaurus - you're still going to want to grab at all the dirty tricks you can. Hell, I'm not sure the actual Conan stories are set in anything more than an E3 world.

Of course, loading up on feats has disadvantages for those who want a quick and easily improvised game, where you can just drop a 6th level fighter into the mix without worrying what exactly his epic smorgasbord of moves looks like. Can we get a feat list that's shorter, not longer, than a wizard's spell list? Are there any other ways to speed and spice up high-level combat without leaving the assumptions of D&D?

More on that next.

By the Way, Conan Never Leveled Up

Trying to come up with answers to the challenge of how to make high-level combat more than a grind, I asked myself: "What did the great writers of adventure and fantasy do?" But in classic fantasy fiction there is no such thing as D&D's high-level combat between biological ironclads possessed of three-digit hit point totals. And who can blame those writers? In the pulp market, descriptions of combat needed to be pointed, tense and thrilling; though things have changed in these days of the interminable epic page-churner.

He actually takes one swing, then runs.

Take the Robert E. Howard story Red Nails. Its first combat pits Conan and Valeria versus an old-school, tail-dragging stegosaurus. By all chronologies the action in this story comes late-ish in Conan's career (Fighter 16/Thief 12? Really, Gary?) Valeria by all accounts is no knockover as a fighter. In D&D these two high level characters would come at the "dragon," swords swinging; maybe go a few rounds and take a few big blows before realizing that the monster is too hard-skinned and too strong for them. Instead, Conan sizes up the peril right away and immediately runs up a rock to hide. When he does prevail, it's not in a toe-to-toe slugfest, but through a ruse worthy of a desperate first-level D&D character.

Conan gains experience over time. But his experience is what we would now call player skill: a knowledge of the ways of the world. In battle he keeps rather than discards the sense and cunning to run, hide and fight dirty that kept him alive from the start. He is stronger, faster, more aware than most other men - but these are qualities he had at the start of his career. They have helped him survive, but they do not guarantee his survival. In the end, Conan reaches his kingdom without a battleship's load of hit points and an ability to hit AC0 more often than not. Maybe he's just the lucky one; the unlucky ones, as confident and skilled as they were, Slith and Alderic and Thangobrind, show up in Lord Dunsany's stories.

The point of tension in a D&D combat comes when hit points are low, when critical moves are contemplated, when the decision to cut and run is made. High-level combat takes a long time to reach that point. Unless they're infected with the D&D view of the world - a sad backwash indeed! - fantasy writers need to get there immediately. But how to get there in the D&D game without the deus ex machina of super saiyan sorcery?

As promised, more on that next time.

Does Combat Feel Different Across Levels? And Is That Good?

A parody of adventure game design - almost like the old Dungeon! game, or the present-day Munchkin game - would base combat and skill outcomes on a die roll, factoring in the character's level, the challenge's level, and different outcomes for different end numbers.

Well, I say parody, but such a super-abstracted combat actually shows up in other games that emphasize exploration and interaction over the minutiae of combat, starting with Chainmail, proceeding through Tunnels and Trolls, and following through in a myriad narrative-oriented games that keep a long arm's length from wargaming.

And this is how 3rd edition D&D handles skills. As a result, using skills at high levels feels just like using them at low levels. At level 10 you are picking the super-titanium-elder-dwarven-riddle-lock with exactly the same odds and procedure that you used to pick the rusty old peasant lock at level 1.

But in all versions of D&D, combat at high levels works qualitatively differently than combat at low levels. Skipping over the math and simulation aspect, the executive summary is that low level combat is short and deadly, high level combat is long and grindy, and it relies heavily on magic to keep it from being even more long and grindy. This is because:

• Monster chances "to hit" pretty much keep up with frontline PC armor class, assuming steady acquisition of magic shields and armor
• Monster damage rises more slowly than PC hit points (example, a 1st level fighter vs an orc compared to an 8th level fighter vs. a hill giant; the giant does twice as much damage but the fighter has 8 times as many hit points)
• PC chances "to hit" rise more quickly than monster AC, especially factoring in magic weapons, as shown here.
• PC combat damage rises much more slowly than monster hit points (example, from 1st to 8th level a fighter might get at best +3 on his or her average-5.5-damage sword from magic, so damage increases 55% while monster HP increase by a factor of 800% or so.)
• As shown here, the only thing keeping pace with monster HP is damage from spells. Additionally, spells like sleep, hold, charm, polymorph other and so forth have a chance to speed up combat by taking opponents entirely out of the combat. 

Two things are clear from this.

First, without a wizard-type, high-level combats risk being lengthy grinds. This is doubly true of the situation where higher-level characters face a horde of low-level monsters. I remember in my first year of playing AD&D how the party - by then third level and equipped with magical gear - faced a conga line of about 50 kobolds coming through a 5' doorway. Needing a 20 to hit our frontline fighter, the kobolds provided possibly the least fun ever seen in a D&D combat, even applying the multiple fighter attacks rule (which presumably had been put into AD&D precisely to speed up this kind of situation).

Second, while the PC chances to hit rising are more or less balanced by monster damage rising, the leeway available before character death leads to another source of qualitative differences. Low-level combats are deadly because a lucky monster damage roll can knock characters down to zero HP easily. In high-level fights, standard damage is more easily dealt with over the course of many rounds, and deadliness comes from save-or-die effects and the occasional massive damage source like dragon breath.

Both of these qualitative differences, I think, work to the detriment of higher-level combat, taking the basic workings of the system from quick, deadly and exciting to long, slow and predictable. Combat needs to be goosed up with blast 'em spells or deadly monster powers, and this means that when you don't have those elements it turns into a slog.

Next: solutions for high-level combat, old and new.

Level Titles as Money Sink

Level titles are cool. They give the same sense of achievement and specialness as the level titles of real-world secret societies: the Mithraic cult, the Freemasons, the Golden Dawn.

Advancement training costs suck. Why do you gain experience points from adventuring but then need some poncey sword instructor to validate your hit points? And wouldn't you rather come by 50 gold pieces while keep them, than 5000 gold pieces while knowing that in your GM's warped economy, most of that is going towards training costs?

But what if you paid money, not to level up your character, but to give him or her the cool level title?

Granted by a secret or not so secret hierarchical organization, level titles represent your social advancement by dint of your donation of loot to their worthy cause. As an adventuring member, not tied to any place but useful to the society, you can only have a level title equal to or less than your actual level.

Benefits from societies vary. One way to model this simply: having henchmen requires membership of one society or another. Other ideas: they can be approached for interest-free loans proportionate to the title, are a source of equipment and adventure opportunities, provide "death insurance" in the form of raise dead spells, are necessary to the ultimate endgame by giving land or political capital for the characters' stronghold.

At this point there are two ways to go:

1. Separate society choices for different character types and classes. One character rises in the Thieves' Guild, another in the Wizards' Academy, yet another in an order of knighthood.

2. The same society for all, an adventurers' freemasonry - perhaps with different titles for different professions, but without the party-dividing drawback.

I think the first option is more "realistic" but the second option has more game advantages. It binds the party together, removes the worry that one guild or cabal might be more advantageous than the other.

If I get enough response I'll whip up a sample adventurers' society that gives out level titles - the Order of St. Hermas.

Cleanup on One Page Spells

I guess I should also summarize my commenters' opinions on the higher spell levels, even though they're not going to get the one-page treatment (maybe Advanced One Page Rules will handle them):

Level 4: Polymorph is a big hit, with the suggestion that Self and Other applications be combined into one super-versatile spell. Charm Monster and Dimension Door were the other ones that got multiple votes.

Level 5: Teleport was unanimously chosen, and Animate Dead got multiple votes. I'm not super big on any of the alternatives - Conjure Elemental seems to outclass Animate Dead, although it might be a good substitution if I give necromancy exclusively to evil clerics. Cloudkill, Contact Other Plane, and Transmute Rock to Mud ... The spells get less iconic as the levels rise.

Level 6: As I've said before, this is the last level I'll seriously consider. Stone to Flesh and its reversal were unanimously chosen. Geas was also popular (even if I consider it more of an NPC spell). The rest were singletons, showing the fraying of consensus at these high levels that characters rarely reach.

Oh, and here are the 6 more low level spells I mentioned last time. Lots of spells at level 1 is a good idea, but after that, my brotha, you have to find your own...

Brown Magic : Levels 4-6

We grow near the end of our long chromatic journey. I thank you for your patience. Up here is where stuff gets ... Biblical.

So let it be written ... so let it be done!

Reincarnation - one of the most simultaneously fun and annoying spells out there. "Dude ... you're a badger." Sylvan Being Table (and guidelines for playing them!) coming with the complete spell descriptions, most likely in a pdf-tipware format.

Animal Growth is meant to combo with one of the low level animal control or summoning spells.

I could not resist the tribute to Metallica. But did resist the tribute to Vangelis.

LEVEL 4

1	Animal Growth	Brown	90’	1 day	None
Create giant from normal animals, or double hit dice of animals without giant kind, with final HD up to caster’s level
2	Mastery of Plants	Brown	90’	1 hour	None
Control up to 16 HD of plant creatures, animate a tree as treant, or animate up to 30’ square of foliage
3	Mastery of Weather	Brown	0’	1 day	None
Control weather within 1 mile (or 10 miles if weather is normal for season), change within 1 minute to storm, snow, or gale  winds
4	Reincarnation	Brown	0’	None	None
Reincarnate known dead person as a random sylvan being within 7 days of death

LEVEL 5

1	Mastery of Animals	Brown	90’	1 hour	None
Call (in 1d20 rounds) and/or control up to 16 HD of animals
2	Mastery of Earth	Brown	90’	None	None
Turns one kind – earth, mud/quicksand, stone – into another, up to 30’ square and 5’ deep; or moves a like amount of earth.
3	Mastery of Water	Brown	90’	3 hours	None
Creates a passage, wave, or pillar in water, up to 5 10’ cubes per caster level

LEVEL 6

1	Creeping Death	Brown	30’	1 day	Body (Con)
Creates 30’ wide, 90 HP front of crawling insects that marches at 9” rate up to 100’ long, doing 10 damage/round and lethal poison
2	Chariot of Eli	Brown	30’	1 day	None
Creates burning flying chariot with 24” move; 4d6 damage within 10’ radius, except for caster and up to 5 passengers
3	Earthquake	Brown	90’	None	Speed (Dex)
Makes chasms in floor (4d6 falling damage, save) and collapses walls and ceiling (8d6 damage, save for half) in up to 60’ radius

Sacred Magic: Level 5 & 6 Spell List

The upper two levels of sacred magic, before we get on to the Great Mysteries.

Some of these spells are controversial ... O Death (and her little sister Level Drain), where is thy sting? James Raggi left raise and restoration effects out of his Lamentations rules entirely, to make the scary stuff scarier. The level drain argument has been hashed over many times - in a world running rife with wights, wraiths, vampires, spectres and so on, is it really fair to let drained levels stick? I figure it is easier to include the appropriate spell and let DMs exclude it, than the other way around.

Divine Intervention, if it was just Word of Recall, would properly be Silver magic. I've added more creative ways for the Divine to get you out of trouble, closing the lions' mouths, building a cage of fire around you ... of course, the god/DM is the one who chooses.

LEVEL 5

#	Name	Color	Range	Duration	Save

1	Restoration	Gold	0’	None	None
Returns one drained level
2	Drain Life	Black	30’	None	Body (Con)
Drains one level from target
3	Life Protection	White	0’	1 day	None
Protects from black magic and level drain
4	Raise Dead	Gold	0’	None	None
Returns to life a body dead for up to 1 day/2 caster levels, with 1 hp; takes 1 hour to cast; may only cast once/caster level
5	Slay Living	Black	5’	None	Body (Con)
Kills a living being
6	Consecrate/Desecrate	White/Black	0’	Perm.	None
Renders a 30’ square area permanently holy with bless effect for holy beings and reverse bless for unholy; Desecrate is vice versa

LEVEL 6

1	Heal	Gold	90’	None	None
Restores all hit points to living being, removing all diseases and poisons
2	Harm	Black	30’	None	Body (Con)
Removes all hit points except one from living being
3	Holy Word/Unholy Word	White/Black	90’	Special	None
Kills (2HD or less), blinds for 3 turns (6HD or less) or stuns for 3 rounds (7HD+) all hearers in range not of caster’s religion/alignment
4	Symbol	White/Black	30’	1 round	Will (Wis)
Causes incapacitating pain, sleep or charm for 2d10 turns to all who see the symbol within 90’ and do not save
5	Regeneration	Gold	0’	None	None
Regrow missing limbs/organs for living person, or restore full dead body from bones or parts
6	Divine Intervention	White	30’	None/  1 day	None
For caster and up to 5 others, either teleports to known sacred location in 30 miles, or creates other peaceful solution to danger for 1 day