How it’s Done, Done, Done…
This is the third in a series of behind the scenes looks into the TTRPG game design and development process, specifically the creation of a brand new character class for an established game.
If you’re just joining the blog and missed part 1 or part 2, you can head back there now. For everyone else, let’s dig in.
With all the prep work done, it’s time to make inroads into the class itself. At last! (Although if you’ve been following along, you know I’ve already done some work in this regard so it’s less “At last I’m gonna get started!” more like “At last I’m back where I started! … Except maybe in a slightly better place to continue!”
Four steps here in the outline:
3.1 Find the Gap
3.2 Core of Power
3.3 Features and Variants
3.4 Balancing Act
And 2-3 weeks allotted for it all. Which in my compressed schedule translates to about 4-5 days. Luckily I’m already two days in on that work so only 2-3 days left, right?
Sure, I can be optimistic (suspend my disbelief?) if you can. Let’s follow the steps and see where that takes us.
3.1 What does “find the gap” even mean? (And why does this course have to be so cryptic all the time? Maybe it’s the instructor…) For the purposes of this article, I’ll share an excerpt from the course which helps form a working definition:
“A good class is unique enough to have a solid identity of its own, but not so narrow in scope that it could be managed as a subclass of another class. After all, it will need 2-4 subclasses of its own!”
Well we already covered this, at least in part, when I shared the elevator pitch of the class: “A half caster, but for bard.”
But defining a mechanical uniqueness isn’t the same as defining the unique space (or “gap”) the class inhabits narratively in relation to the other classes.
As discussed in an earlier article and seen in my mindmap, I settled on a working name for the class. The intent behind the name “Spiritualist” is to bring to mind images of people who have a deep connection with the spirit world: shamans and psychics, mediums and exorcists, ghost chasers and avatars. And yes, as most (if not all) of you have guessed by now, demon hunters (more specifically of the kpop variety).
As a semi-related aside, I read online somewhere (and you know it must be true since the internet never lies!) that there was a potential for the bard to actually be a half caster in 5e, but with its core identity of “jack of all trades” the class was considered too weak without a strong anchor to pull its weight in combat. So I actually considered naming the class Spirit Warrior in order to evoke a sense of combative hardness to it. But I ended up deciding that would narrow the scope of the class too much. But now I have a similar problem to the never-to-be half caster bard. Without full spells or a solid martial component like rangers and paladins, how can the spiritualist compete with other classes in power output per level?
For a Huntr/x styled demon hunter subclass, it might be relatively simple to give them some cool psychic weapons some bonus combat maneuvers and some sort of singing related super power. But what about the other subclasses? If I put all the combat power into one subclass leaving the base class is weak, then wouldn’t it dictate that all subclasses would need that kind of power as well? While that’s doable, it puts a lot of strain on the subclasses and future subclass designs would be burdened by that as well.
So this is a good example of one lesson bleeding over into the next. While we’re still refining the class’ narrative identity from lesson 3.1 we’re bumping into the core of power in lesson 3.2. So while the course is necessarily laid out in a linear and sequential manner, it stands to reason that in reality various steps will naturally overlap.
Core of Power is a concept that deals directly with class balance and how it scales over the course of its 20 levels. The assignment for this lesson: Design your class’s Core of Power. Outline how it scales up over level increases and how it interacts with other aspects of the class and pillars of play.
As a spiritualist it seems only logical for the class to have access to spirit energy. How might that be reflected in mechanical terms? In A5E, all martial characters have combat maneuvers which are powered by a pool of exertion points, and most martial classes have a number of exertion points equal to twice their proficiency bonus. We could do something similar here for the Spiritualist. Their points could still power maneuvers for the more martial subclasses, but would also power a variety of spiritual core class abilities and features as well. That would help free up design space in the subclasses for less martial types of spiritualists.
In theory this should work, but the devil is in the details, and I’ve got some work ahead of me. I anticipate needing about 15–20 or so spiritual powers that can be leveraged across the 3 pillars of play (combat, social interaction, exploration), some of which will require spending exertion, others that will be more passive. In addition, the ones directly related to combat (attack, defense, healing, and support) will either need to scale in power or be tiered such that the more powerful ones are gated behind level gains.
Which leads us to lesson 3.3: Features and Variants. This step speaks not just to giving players meaningful options to choose from when they gain levels, but also to the variety of subclasses available to choose from. For this exercise I would ideally construct two subclasses in addition to the demon hunters for a grand total of three to be released along with the class. If I were being really ambitious I’d also spec out a fourth just to prove to myself the class was extensible the way I’d hoped.
Once the core class and at least two archetypes are drafted, I’ll have enough information to move into lesson 3.4 and do a cursory balance pass. Once it feels I have that right, I can add any other subclasses I want and align them power-wise with the established models.
At this point, this article is only halfway done, but so is my class, so I need to switch gears and wade back into the thick of things here shortly. But before I do, I want to touch on Lesson 4: Motivation.
I alluded to it at the outset of these series of articles, but let’s revisit one of the reasons I felt the need to start documenting this whole process in the first place. Although I had been making quick work of the class outline and feature sets, and even finished a decent draft of one subclass, there were still some pretty big holes in the base class, including details around its Core of Power, and I could feel my motivation waning. I was about to delve into the toughest section of the dungeon and I was out of spell slots. It was time for a short or long rest. It was time to reset and recharge. And that is what the lesson on motivation is all about:
4.1 Remember Your Why
4.2 Forget Your Ex
Remember my design goal about feature names with silly puns? I guess it applies to naming lessons as well. But for this mathematical allusion, you can actually blame Star Trek: Strange New Worlds. And if you don’t know what I’m talking about, I highly recommend the show.
But also, the titles actually do make sense in the context of motivation as well. In fact, “remember your why” is probably something you’ve heard before in relation to remaining committed to a goal. And this whole series of articles was my way of doing just that. Sure I have the K-pop demon hunters movie and soundtrack bopping around my brain 24-7 like a kid on a sugar high. But that’s only one aspect of my inspiration for writing the spiritualist class. The why goes deeper than merely emulating an insta-classic animated film with super catchy music. I’m inspired by my mentorship experience and the joy of seeing a talented writer spread his game design wings. I’m inspired by the design process itself and the work that goes into bringing a new idea to life. I’m inspired by the thought of people having a blast playing a spiritualist character at the table in a D&D game. There’s plenty of why’s to go around, and the thought is invigorating. I mean, blasting out 3 blog articles (about 6,000 words) in 2 days is a testament to that.
So yeah, remember your why. But also “forget your ex.” It’s ok to let go of things you were previously quite attached to. Healthy even in some circumstances. In design, that might mean a specific idea that on its own might be a really great idea but just doesn’t fit in with the current project. Or it could be a hangup about something totally unrelated to the project that’s weighing you down. Let it go. Especially if it’s something that’s already in the past and there isn’t any more you can do about it. Forget your ex. In my case it was an old, unfinished, failed project, just hanging around collecting dust. I kept wanting to return to it, kept meaning to, and every now and then I would take it out, brush it off and try tackling it again. But to make space for a new project, I had to forget about it, at least for a while, shelve it in long term storage and leave it there til I remember my why about it again. It’s ok. And it’s ok to be ok about it. It takes trusting that if it’s meant to be it will be, in its time.
So I take inspiration where and when I can get it, but seek out and generate motivation as a habit. It keeps me moving forward and in a positive direction.
Speaking of, it’s time to move forward, and though I’m still a hundred or so words short of 2k this article, I’ll make it up in the work I put into the class. We’ll pick up where we left off after a few days focused on the base class plus two archetypes and hopefully after a pass or two on balancing. When I come back, it should be just about time to head into Lesson 5: Iteration, and then we’re over the halfway hump!
