Continuing today with my custom classes for The Lazaro Heresies, my house ruled version of The Black Hack. Here will we be looking at the more “martial” classes and paths — Warriors and Specialists.
The following classes are for The Lazaro Heresies, my house-ruled version of The Black Hack. Feel free to pilfer for your own use.
So, despite my initial criticisms of it being a cheap fad in the indie OSR scene, The Black Hack has pretty much infected me with how I love to run my games. This past week I’ve been compiling together my own playbook for all the ideas, house rules, and add-ons I want to use as my “core” system.
It’s become a 24-page booklet that I’ve already handed out to my players (including two kids I’ve run 5e for in the past.) I’d share it with you folks, but I totally ripped off a lot D&D line art — both official and fan stuff — because I wanted it to be awesome for my crew and not just a tech manual to study.
So instead, I present to you a blog post hitting my big changes. I’ll do my best to cite who I ripped off as best as I can.
The Mutant class in The Rad Hack is pretty flexible — you can easily be a mutant animal, plant, or some other strange humanoid. Still, I’ve had friends, followers, and even my spouse talk about how they wished the “Mutant Plant” was a class on its own. I decided to homebrew my own variant Plant class by re-skinning powers that already existed in the game. Enjoy!
This post is some raw ideas transcribed from some very loose notes from a one-shot adventure I put together for Swords & Wizardry. I present them here as a loose framework for anyone to use however they wish in their own games.
The immediate area surrounding the town of Silverbrooke has long been protected by the “witch” of the Citrine Tower. Though human, she’s been around as long as a lot of elves can remember. Her tower pulses with a fresh, yellowish glow that casts a serene light by nightfall (and is even noticeable by day.) She only leaves her estate two days a month to acquire goods from the local markets. It’s unknown where her wealth comes from — many speculate she’s a master alchemist, but her coins always have the imperial stamps of the time.
In the past year, however, her absence has been felt across the whole of the countryside. The fresh yellow of her Citrine tower is now a shade akin to a gingivitis grin. The crops around Silverbrooke have been suffering from a blight, and vines of thorns tendril out of the woods as if to suffocate the farmlands.