Checking Your Alignment

4.0 Edition brought a lot of changes to D&D. One of those changes was a simplification of the alignment system. Unfortunately, the new system is far too simple and the most popular alignments have been removed. As part of continuing efforts to improve the fourth edition system, here is my interpretation of the 3.5 edition alignments:

Lawful Good
"I don't care how evil he is, we are not going to murder the king in cold blood."
Done Right: The Lawful Good character is dedicated to something or someone. This could be a set of ideals, like a religion, a personal code, like chivalry or Bushido, or it could be a person. If your armored knight is dedicated to protecting the disguised princess he travels with, he could very well be Lawful Good (If your armored knight is dedicated to protecting the disguised prince she travels with, I might just love you). You don't condone the chaotic actions of other party members, and you may challenge them over more excessive acts, but you recognize that you need to be able to work with them in order to succeed.

Done Wrong: This is the Lawful Good you're most familiar with. A bad Lawful Good character follows every law to the letter and refuses to make compromises for other party members. A bad LG character is an RP killer. Everything must go their way or they will refuse to do anything. They interact with a chip on their shoulder and a stick in their ass.

Neutral Good
"Sure there are laws against that, but we can bend the rules just this once."
Done Right: In many ways, "Neutral" is the most difficult word in this alignment system. As a Neutral Good character, you are honest and trustworthy and all that heroic stuff, but you see the laws/rules as having a little flex to them. You do still believe in the legitimacy of the laws, though, so don't think you can pass every chaotic act off as an exception. The balance of law and chaos may be a constant struggle within you, or it may just be your way of getting by. Either way, your existence is a display of careful restraint.

Done Wrong: The wrong way to be Neutral Good is to be uncommitted. Your actions are good, but they tend to be whatever strikes your fancy at the moment. Rather than balancing the Law-Chaos axis, you ignore it entirely. This is not a terrible way to play a character and it certainly won't bring down an entire game, but it does hamstring your character as far as development is concerned. It will be very difficult to decide how the campaign's big decisions effect the character if they've been an alignment flake.

Chaotic Good
"It's not 'theft,' per say. It's 'reallocation of resources.'"
Done Right: Chaotic Good is an "ends justify the means" kind of alignment. You believe that any law or tradition that gets in the way of your 'good' actions should be ignored at best or dismantled at worse. Most adventuring parties tend to be Chaotic Good in their beliefs and actions, particular when they decide to kill a corrupt king or other public figure without any kind of trial. You tend to be impulsive, unwilling or able to create long term plans and generally failing to consider the subtle effects your decision may have weeks or months down the line. Do you struggle against your chaotic nature or do you embrace it? Has it gotten you in trouble before?

Done Wrong: Honestly? It's really hard to screw up Chaotic Good. You do have to remember the "Good" part of it, though. On its own, Chaotic is not an excuse to stab innocents and burn down villages. It may not even be an excuse to murder the aforementioned king. A bad Chaotic Good character is the same as any other bad Chaotic character- chaotic to the point where it upsets game play.

Lawful Neutral
"This is how we've always done it."
Done Right: You are a follower of rules and traditions, no mater how morally questionable they may be. This may be due to a commitment to your family or your society's sense of honor, or it may be because you are a knight in service to a morally questionable society. Most Neutral characters still find Good more appealing than Evil, it just isn't as important to them. You also recognize that your teammates do not follow the sames rules as you. This will certainly lead to conflicts, but it is important for you to know why you are sticking with this group. What keeps you from just leaving them?

Done Wrong: You refuse to do anything that contradicts your code. No exceptions, no compromises. Every adventure consists of you attempting to force your teammates into your belief system and restricting their actions. A player like this is arguably worse than the Lawful Good one. A Lawful Neutral character's code of conduct may include things that the party cannot afford to do, such as executing all criminals. If you've got a character who's trying to kill the rogue every time there's an important piece of information to steal, you've more than likely got a dead game.

True Neutral
"It is most important that we keep our options open."
Done Right: True Neutral (or, more hilariously, "Neutral Neutral") is the favored alignment of Druids and they actually provide an excellent way of explaining it. Your actions are motivated by something that transcends Good and Evil/Chaos and Law. Nature is a perfect example: wild yet structured and harsh but gentle. Your actions always serve this greater purpose, yet your actions seem complete erratic to anyone who only sees in terms of the two dimensional system. You may be the wrath of a storm one second and the warth of the sun the next. What's important is that you know why you're doing these things. No one else needs to know.

Done Wrong: In fourth edition, True Neutral is renamed "unaligned." That's an excellent way to describe the wrong way to play the alignment. Your character is a hollow thing with an all-consuming apathy to the ways of the universe. But alignment is about what you do as well as what you say, so a truly "Unaligned" character would have to never to anything that was too Good or too Evil. Honestly, they'd have to never really do anything at all. How boring is that

Chaotic Neutral
"Is that a button? I MUST PUSH IT!"
Done Right: In a True Neutral alignment, the character is devoted to a greater concept which determines their actions. In Chaotic Neutral, that greater power is yourself. You are a paragon of impulsiveness and your only concern is your personal wants and needs. You honor deals and contracts as long as you feel like it and you work with your team because it serves your purposes. Its important for you to know what your long-term goals are if you want to play this alignment. The sheer possibilities of a Chaotic Neutral character can make it easy to just dick around with no real reason for existing.

Done Wrong: You do whatever you want with no regard for anything, especially your fellow adventurers. You execute important prisoners and let villains escape simply because "it's what my character would do." Other players may find you amusing at first, but they'll soon grow sick of you screwing up everything they try to plan.

Lawful Evil
"All citizens will report to the palace for the mandatory 'listen to me rant' seminar."
Done Right: A villain who rules with an iron fist is the most obvious example of Lawful Evil. People and societies of this alignment use their power to oppress those below themselves. Control is one of the most important aspects of Lawful Evil; it represents a person or system which is highly regimented according to traditions, personal code, or the whims of a tyrant. Oppression is often a result of this, but it is not a defining characteristic. The Kobolds live in Lawful Evil societies that have strict hierarchies, but are not necessarily oppressive to to even the lowest on the social ladder.

Done Wrong: As with most Evil characters, the worst thing you can do with a Lawful Evil villain is fail to explain why he's doing whatever he's doing. If the Evil king is a tyrant just because he feels like it, its hard to imagine why his people haven't overthrown him yet. A bad Lawful Evil character or society has no traditions or personal codes defining their lives and seems to be oppressive simply because the quest calls for it.

Neutral Evil
"Some days are 'Oppress the Innocent' days. Today's more of a 'Blow Stuff Up' day."
Done Right: A villain of this alignment is an average kind of Evil. They aren't the head of a sinister organization and they don't have a maddening desire to crust everything that opposes them. In some ways, they are the most dangerous villains; not personal code to exploit and still level-headed enough to operate behind the scenes and keep numerous allies. Because a Neutral Evil character has no distinct leanings towards Chaos or Law, they are able to ally with a wider array of other people and races.

Done Wrong: Bad neutral Evil characters are like Goombas: They come at you in endless, indistinct waves and killing enough of them in a row nets you a "1UP." Each Neutral Evil character, race, or society is exactly the same; drudging through life in their Evil ways and existing only as quest fodder.

Chaotic Evil
"BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!"
Done Right: Chaotic Evil villains can be terrifying if they get enough power. Something or someone has convinced them that the only way to fix/control/get revenge on the world is to destroy it in its current form. These villains eat, sleep, and breathe destruction (The latter being literal in the case of Dragons). Players will probably be left with no choice but to put them down... unless they can figure out what set them off and cure/right the wrongs. Its important to know why your character is Chaotic Evil: What do they want, why do they want it, and how do they plan to get it?

Done Wrong: If you don't know why a villain is Chaotic Evil, he's just destroying stuff because he can. This actually isn't a terrible thing, it just limits the player's role-playing options. But maybe that's something you're doing on purpose- maybe the villain is too far gone and the party must deal with the idea that the only way to stop them is to kill them. Just don't pull that every time.

Taking Death Like a Hero

A lot of really awesome things are possible in a game of DnD. Unfortunately, a lot of not so awesome things are also possible. Among those not so awesome things is the always looming threat of character death. It is a lot more difficult to be outright killed in fourth edition (and it becomes progressively less of a threat as you level), it can still happen. Its happened to me twice, in fact. If you want to be a good player, you need to be prepared to lose a character and not throw a fit over it.

Puck Quickblade (Revenant Gnome Rogue)
Puck was an undead Gnome with an unhealthy love of stabbing enemies repeatedly. I suppose he technically died twice, but the first time was planned. A teammate discovered Puck had been hired to kill him and reacted by pushing him off the flying ship the party was using to travel. Puck returned in the next town, now significantly more undead than before.

Puck's real death came at the end of the encounter. We were fighting an Eladrin mage (who was actually a re-skinned beholder, but details) and Puck had taken a few hits. This meant he was bloodied when he took a death ray to the face. No big deal though, three chances to throw off the effect before you die. First turn came and went and Puck failed his throw. The mage attempted to run, but Puck unleased another deadly attack on his second turn before failing another save. On the third turn, the mage had flown to an adjacent platform. Puck, unphased, made a flying leap at her, critically hit (granting him a barrage of attacks) and then failed his last saving throw and died.

Kriv Medresh (Dragonborn Cleric)

More recently, I was playing a foul-mouthed dragonborn named Kriv Medresh. Living in a world completely overrun by undead, Kriv's focus on radiant damage had the potential to be absolutely disgusting. He hated undead and made to attempt to spare any of them (including a Revenant party member who had the misfortune of constantly being in his Turn Undead).

Kriv's demise came as a shock to all of us (including the DM). We were in what we thought was an easy encounter (eliminating a pair of vampires who had been chasing us), when the DM discovered that one of them was able to force its enemies to attack their allies at will. Suddenly, everyone was turning on the source of radiant damage and heals. Kriv went down, but rolled a 20 on his saving throw the next turn, allowing him to spend a healing surge. He might have survived if not for the fact that we had a barbarian in the party. A barbarian who crit. The resulting attacks liberated Kriv of his hit points and his head.

And so they died...
Once your character has joined the ranks of the dearly departed, what is there for you as a player to do? Here are a few handy tips:

Keep it in Perspective: Remember, you lost a fictional character to a fictional death. Sure, it sucks that all that work is in the crapper, but its not like you lost a friend, family member, or even pet. An hour or so in the character builder will get you right back into the game.

You Only Have to Change what You Want: If you really liked your character, there's nothing stopping an identical character (with the same name, even) from showing up the next time the group gets a breather. It could be a random new guy or it could be a family member (Edward Coolguy the 37th).

Look on the Bright Side: Now that your character is dead, its a great time to try something new. You can build a character that is a class or race that you've never used before. You can test out a concept that you thought of/stole.

Roleplay the Hell Out of it: Your new character can also have a connection to your old one. Beyond being just a friend or family member to the original, they can also swear an oath to avenge their death. Or maybe they really hated the late bastard and are determined to get them back... even if it means chasing their departed soul into the underworld.

What's in a Number?

In my discussions of the various player classes I have frequently brought up the differences between the old 3.5 edition and the new 4.0 edition. I know this debate has pretty much sunk to to "squabbling unbernerd" level, but I wanted to share my opinions on the matter. The short answer:

"3.5 has much more space for creativity; the sheer number of options available to players and DMs alike ensure that whatever you want to do is possible. 4.0, on the other hand, is actually playable for anyone who hasn't memorized the Player's Handbook and the Dungeon Master's Guide."

The long answer:

Alright, I have a simple analogy to demonstrate the two editions: 3.5 is a PC and 4.0 is a Mac. Like a PC, 3.5 edition operated with most of its code laid bare. It had numerous supplements, all of which were easily compatible with the main system and allowed users an awe-inspiring level of customization. However, if you were not someone who understood the workings of the system, it was just lines and lines of text with no real meaning. Like a Mac, 4.0 is centered around user-friendliness. Instead of chunks of text, you have these app-like blocks for powers and monster stats. Although you are given a wide variety of tools to tweak your game, creating elements from scratch is all but impossible. To further illustrate my point, here are four examples of how these two systems differ:

Example One: Character Creation
3.5: Building a character in 3.5 edition was a very involved process. Picking skills alone could take upwards of fifteen minutes (more on that later). The standard method of determining you statistics was to roll four d6s and pull out the lowest die. This, of course, meant that some characters could be absolute monsters while others struggled to do much of anything. This system obviously had the potential to be rather unfair but you missed that somehow when your fighter was sitting on two eighteens, a seventeen, and three fifteens. Picking your class was relatively easy, though. As long as your party had a Wizard and someone with access to healing, you were all set.

4.0: Building a character in 4.0 edition is a little like playing with Legos. Skills are an afterthought at best (again, later). The standard method of stat creation is a point buy, but the handbook provides you with every possible spread. Picking your stats is just a matter of selection the scores you want and plugging them into place. Every character is determined by this system and so every character has an equal level of power (at least, in their scores). Party building is more of chore now, however. Now its not just healing and game-breaking you have to worry about; there are four roles that should be filled. No matter how awesome you character is, you may have to scrap it to make sure someone's actually healing in your party.

Example Two: Skills
3.5: By my count, there are forty seven unique skills in the Player's Handbook for 3.5 edition and I know that there were a few books that added even more. The skills were really a separate system from your weapons and spells. Sure, they all used the same basic rolls, but there was something very different about missing with a sword vs not seeing the key on the far wall.
The skill selection was vast and varied and included the classic "find loot set:" Spot, Listen, and Search, as well as the endless train of Knowledge skills, and the oddballs like Use Rope. Anything your character wanted to do could be linked to a skill, making success or failure an essential part of 3.5 adventuring.

4.0: There are only seventeen skills in the Player's Handbook and none of the books in this edition add any more. This stunned collection hinders skill checks from being any more involved than an occasional lackluster roll. It still feels different to be rolling your attacks vs rolling your skill check; the attacks feel like they actually matter whereas the skill are more something fun, but largely inconsequential. Your pallet of skill options has been boiled down to its absolute minimum. "Perception" has replaced "spot," "search," and "listen." "Thievery" has not only replaced "steal" but also "open lock." "Use rope" has been left completely in the cold along with "craft" and "preform." In fact, it seems like every skill that could not be directly used in combat was erased.

Example Three: Combat
3.5: Combat was a true struggle for survival in 3.5 edition. Your health was low and your enemies' damage output was high. Monsters could stun lock you round after round or hand you one of the infamous "save or die" effects. Doing epic things was possible, but you would pay if it failed. In 3.5 edition, the deck was stacked against players in combat. The hardest part about being a DM was a mix of keeping track of all the monsters' abilities, keeping the encounter a fun challenge, and not killing your party.

4.0: Combat is a whole lot of showing off in 4.0. Don't get me wrong, a skilled DM can still challenge a party, its just that the whole system is centered around pulling ridiculous and improbable stunts. Just take a look at some of the power names I pulled out in my awesome classes posts and imagine what using them must look like. Furthermore, the monsters have all been tamed quite a bit. There are now much stricter guidelines for assembling balanced encounters and any party with a decent idea of what they are doing (or even one or two members that do) can coast through these encounters. Also, there are no more "save or die" effects."

Example Four: Noncombat
3.5: Thanks to the complex skill system mentioned earlier, 3.5 edition remains fun and engaging even when there's nothing to stab. Chatting to a shifty character is a roll vs roll smack down as your Insight checks go up against their Bluff. Or maybe its the other way around; maybe you're trying to convince the town guard that your are not, in fact, the travelers they are looking for. Either way, you can never be sure how the dice will turn. On the more dangerous side of noncombat, the Rogue was one of the only classes to even have the option to disable a trap. If your party was missing the essential stabby element, good luck.

4.0: N/A

Alright, that's an exaggeration. A small exaggeration, but an exaggeration nonetheless. 4.0 does have a noncombat element to it, it just looks exactly like combat. When attempting to bluff or avoid being bluffed, the receiving party is more than likely using their passive insight. The passive score is more like a glorified second will defense than anything else, making a bluff check more like a bluff attack vs insight. You can still disable traps and participate in the king's war council; now those event are handled in a "skill challenge." A skill challenge is set up exactly like combat, with play proceeding in rounds and each player choose one skill attack on their turn. This isn't to say that its a bad system, only that it can be very unsatisfying for anyone who isn't a hack-and-slasher.

Striking Awesome(ly)

(Oh boy, Strikers. This list is going to be hard. No matter where I place these eight classes, someone is going to be offended. Use the comment box to argue why I'm wrong.)

The Striker is, in my experience, the most popular role for players to fill and its easy to see why; Controllers have to deal with clusters of enemies, Defenders have to protect squishies, and Leaders have to make sure no one dies. But the Striker only has to worry about picking an enemy and making its HP total zero. Its an easy job, but also very important. After all, a dead monster is the second best kind of monster (The best kind is, of course, a pet monster). What makes the Striker awesome? It's not just the damage, it's how you dish it out. Each Striker has its own unique way of bringing down their foes, be it the artful dexterity of the Rogue or the raw smashy-smash of the Barbarian. All Strikers are awesome, some just happen to be a little more awesomer than others.

Number Eight: The Sorcerer

"Cantrips? I'm sorry, I'm more of a 'blow stuff up' kind of mage."

The Sorcerer is an old favorite of mine from 3.5 edition. Back then, they were universally reviled because of their notoriously unstable connection to magic. People were excited to see the local Wizard, but a trip to the local Sorcerer usually ended in head-on-fire. In 4.0, the Sorcerer is judged much more on his or her individual merits rather than some blanket understanding of them or their powers. The Sorcerer's source of power is extremely customizable as well. Your powers can come from a dragon, a storm, the stars, or the power of RAW CHAOS.

But it gets better: When the Seeker made its infamous decision to become not fully Controller, yet not fully Striker, it shared its notes with the Sorcerer. Unlike that primal archer, however, the Sorcerer is able to stride that line with confidence. Your extra damage comes in the form of your secondary ability modifier which is added to all of your arcane damage rolls. In addition, the Sorcerer is surprisingly good at Controller-esc blasts and bursts. If its clustered in a room, you can probably make it dead. If you choose Chaos Magic, you can do so while cackling manically about TRUE POWER!

Awesome Powers: Chaos Bolt, Lightning Cuts, Winds of Change, Overpowering Lightning, Cosmic Vengeance

Number Seven: The Warlock

"CRAAAAAWLING IN MY SKIIIIIIN, I CAN NOT REGAIN THESE HIT POINTS!"

The Warlock is probably the most misunderstood of the Strikers. Sure, they made a deal with a powerful Nature Spirit/Demon/Lovecraftian Horror but that doesn't make them evil. So what if all their powers call upon the power of slumbering monstrosities bent upon bringing down the natural order. That doesn't mean they can't work in a team, or fight for truth, or hang out sometime... guys? Flavor wise, the Warlock is pretty damn sweet. Its just a shame that their powers are a little... lacking in the umph department.

But it gets better: The Warlock's curse is one of the cooler damage mechanics in 4.0. Not only do you get a bonus to damage that lasts until the end of the encounter, you also get a neat little bonus each time a cursed enemy bites the big one. After a few rounds of cursing, you can put out a lot of damage to everyone in the room. It does raise the question as to why, upon seeing you standing on top of a pile of your broken enemies praising Cthulhu, your party doesn't slip out the back door.

Awesome Powers: Eldritch Blast, Your Delicious Weakness, Thief of Five Fates, Banish to the Void, Caiphon's Abominable Melody

Number Six: The Assassin

"Now you see me, now you're dead."

The Assassin has been significantly changed since its days as an Evil-only prestige class in the 3.5 edition Dungeon Master's Guide. For one thing, you can no longer watch someone for three rounds and then turboshank them dead. Now, the Assassin traffics in shadows, a fact that would prompt more emo-kid jokes if I hadn't used them all on the Warlock. The Assassin's power comes from The Raven Queen, patron deity of brooding antiheroes, and oh man does this guy everyone's least favorite fan character. The Assassin can not only create weapons from shadow, but can also jump inside and/or steal another creature's shadow.

But it gets better: The Assassin's Shroud is one of the more interesting extra damage abilities. Normally, you use a free action to put one shroud on one creature (some powers/paths/destinies let you do more) to a maximum of four shrouds on a single target. When you attack, you decide if you will invoke your shrouds on the target. If you hit, you roll the damage for your shrouds. If you miss, however, you roll the damage for all but one of your shrouds. That's right, even when you miss you can still deal damage. It makes sense though, any ruthless killer worth his salt isn't going to let a silly thing like a bad swing keep him from fulfilling his contract.

Awesome Powers: Inescapable Blade, Nightshade's Kiss, Black Garrote, Ambush from Thin Air, Intent to Murder

Number Five: The Monk

"Weapons? What sort of namby-pamby nonsense is that?"

The Monk has always kicked ass. In 3.5, your flurry of blows was a pummeling maelstrom of hurt (followed by a few inevitable misses). In new version 4.0, the Monk is the most amazingly mobile Striker ever. All of your powers are split into two parts: how you hit them and how you get there. The Monk is the only Striker who can spot an enemy on the other side of the room, run Prince of Persia style across a wall, and then land on their head without a series of skill checks and some hasty bargaining with the DM.

But it gets better: Flurry of Blows is back and it's more reliable than ever. No more rolling thirty thousand attacks, now people around you just take damage from your thrashing limbs of fury. Flurry of blows is a free action whenever you hit an enemy and it just does damage, no questions asked. As you level, you can take powers, feats, and equipment that make that damage rather sizable. Nothing says "Monk" quite as well as doing a back-flip to kick someone in the face and then knocking out the two guys next to him.

Awesome Powers: Crane's Wings, Springing Drake Assault, Finishing Move, Storms Fall without Warning, Titan's Mighty Grasp

Number Four: The Avenger

"Foolish monster, now I will show you my true power! OATH OF THE FINAL DUEL!"

The Avenger is the last in the lineup of awesome divine classes (and the Runepriest), and oh boy is it a good one. Imagine a cross between the Paladin and the Barbarian in robes with access to a wide variety of stabbies and smashies. You are a holy crusader who has become somewhat estranged from the rest of their deity's church. The estrangement apparently turns you into some kind of anime warrior from Hell. You excel at moving across the battlefield and singling out foes, unless you're a Pursuing Avenger. In that case, your ability to traverse combat has long surpassed the limitations of the term "excel" as well as the limitations of most interpretations of land speed.

But it gets better: Avengers get extra damage in a unique way. Unlike other Strikers, the Avenger does not have extra damage built into their powers or through some almighty class feature, they get by being more accurate with weapons (through an almighty class feature). Oath of Enmity lets you single out a foe and roll two d20s instead of the usual boring one. As a result, the Avenger hits twice as often and crits twice as often. When the Avenger makes an oath against you, two things are certain: you will die and it will hurt. Also, the Avenger has a level one daily called, "Oath of the Final Duel." That's so anime it isn't funny.

Awesome Powers: Overwhelming Strike, Oath of the Final Duel, Dismiss the Unworthy, Scatter to the Astral Winds, Cataclysmic Duel

Number Three: The Barbarian

“Me smash you like me smash silly pronoun rules!”

The Barbarian has come a long way since 3.5 edition, and I don’t mean that in the best way. His iconic rages are no long the massive stat boosters they once were, and that also means the hilarious period of exhaustion following each combat is gone. In 4.0, the rages have become attacks that have a persistent effect that lasts for the rest of the encounter. While this does completely reflavor the Barbarian’s bread and butter, it does also make him the one class that can (and should) blow daily powers before the inevitable “final boss” of the day. The Barbarian isn’t exactly the rampaging juggernaut he once was, but he’s still a force to be reckoned with.

But it gets better: The Barbarian is too busy beating the snot out of enemies to deal with some sort of extra damage mechanic, so Wizards wisely built all of his extra damage into his attacks. This makes him a little extra dependant on actually connecting with his attacks, sure, but he’s the freaking Barbarian. You can’t possibly expect finesse from the guy whose axe is the same size as the thing he’s hitting with it. Oh, and there’s Rampage. This nifty little feature congratulates you for scoring a critical hit and suggests you take another swing while you’re at it. Nothing says “Barbarian” quite like never stopping hitting ever.

Awesome Powers: Devastating Strike, Reckless Rampage, Rage of the Death Spirit, Rampaging Dragon Strike, Rage of the Thundering Rhino

Number Two: The Rogue

“Knock knock. SNEAK ATTACK! Oh wait; I was supposed to wait for your answer, wasn’t I?”

The Rogue is the iconic Striker. In every RPG since the dawn of time, there has always been that class that focuses around hiding in the corner until your enemy is distracted before cart wheeling in and dealing of so much damage to the poor slobs. No matter how much D&D changes, the Rogue remains relatively unchanged: she has a dagger and, oh hey! Would you like to see a magic trick? The Rogue can’t traverse the battlefield quite like the Avenger, and no one jumps like the Monk, but she’s still a slippery one. If you ever lose sight of the Rogue in combat, it’s safe to assume that she’s behind you and that you’re about to get hit with a whole lot of…

But it gets better: Sneak attack. Yes, Clerics gotta heal, Barbarians gotta rage, and Rogues gotta stab you in the back. A sneak attack in 4.0 is similar to being stuck in the back by a semi-truck. For the low, low price of one feat, you too can deal 2d8 extra damage every time you hit with combat advantage. Keep in mind that you are a Rogue, so anytime you attack without combat advantage, you and your party have failed. Also, thanks to Rogue Weapon Talent, a Rogue with a dagger basically never misses. Stack on that the “Daggermaster” paragon path and your mere presence will make that nasty mage (Beholder?) start writing her will.

Awesome Power: Sly Flourish, Flamboyant Strike, Not Worth My Time, Perfect Sniper, Assassin’s Point

Number One: The Ranger

“Feel that? It’s the eyes of the ranger. They’re upon you.”

It is a well established fact that anyone with the occupation “Ranger” is a certified badass. Don’t believe me? Well, let’s think of a few Rangers… There’s the Power Rangers, they were cool (if racist and sexist)… There’s that Aragon dude from Lord of the Rings, he did some cool stuff… And there’s that guy, what’s his name? Isn’t it something like CHUCK MOTHER-FREAKING NORRIS? Now you, too can share in the glorious heritage of Ranger baddassery. The best thing about the Ranger is the wide variety of weapons you can use. You can shoot arrows forever, you can duel wield your favorite one-handed weapon, or you can has bear. In 3.5 edition, you could do all of these things at the same time, but 4.0 decided to try and balance the Ranger a little. It failed.

But it gets better: Well, not better than Chuck Norris. I kinda started with my strongest argument. Hunter’s Quarry used to involve picking which specific monster types you were good at killing and gaining some pretty impressive bonuses against them. Now you just pick the closest thing to you and relieving it of its hit points in an endless stream of attacks. The Ranger hands out damage like its candy and, for some reason, the monsters all stand there expecting sweets while completely ignoring the massive amount of blood loss they suffer. Did I mention they can pall around with a bear? Or that said bear deals as much damage as a Waraxe? Seriously, the Ranger is one awesomely cool dude.

Awesome Powers: Twin Strike, Beast Latch, Dire Bear Maul, Death Rend, Ultimate Confrontation