I don’t remember quite how I came across the kickstarter for these dice, but so far my on-a-whim of extra cash to buy something for $14 plus a few for shipping, turned a pretty standard D&D 5e combat encounter into one of the most interesting combat encounters I have had in my twenty plus years.
So what do these dice do?
Well they are a pretty simple set of three ten sided dice, a six sided die and a card to clarify any questions about what comes up on the dice. The first ten sided die has green lettering, this is the critical hit die. whenever you roll that beautiful nat 20 (or within the critical range for other games or say you have a champion fighter with that 19-20 crit range) you get to roll this die and see what you get. Examples of some of the bonus is 3x damage, or Blind opponent and +2d6 damage, or the 1 in 10 chance of instant kill. There is one side that is “Sever limb +3d6 dam.” in which the next die comes into play, the hit zone die. Pretty simple, extra damage or removal of that limb marked clearly in red. Now every time you get to roll the crit hit die, you get to roll die number 3, the yellow six sided die. This is the moral die and affects either your side favorably, or the enemy unfavorably.
Last but not least, the last ten sided die, the critical fumble. This is the one you roll when the dread natural 1 shows its terrifying single eye of judgement. With less damaging fumbles such as dropping your weapon to dangerous hit ally or deadly crit self.
So, not too complicated, but let me tell you the story of a simple encounter turned into a storm of epic plays and crashing waves of chaos.
Picture this if you will,
It was just past dawn as the heroes disembarked in Waterdeep after an expedition to the Sea of Moving Ice. Weary of the waves and down a member taken by the claws of a white dragon, they moved north towards the home of their Gnome wizard, Fiona. The eight foot tall Minotaur arcane trickster, Ganth, was the first to notice the blue scaled half-dragon bumble into the street before the party. The Cerulean scaled brute barely had time to utter his zealous dragon cult threats as the party spotted the ten cultists surrounding them before being set upon by the already spurned heroes. Fiona, in her early morning grogginess and momentary lapse of common dragon knowledge, let loose a Storm Sphere to minimal avail, slowing the mass of cultists but doing little damage. A moment later her inattention cost her as a young blue dragon came around a corner and let loose its breath attack, scuffing the armor of the party’s fighter, Lars, making a cultist momentarily question his allegiance as he took a face full of friendly fire, and Fiona was left taking an uncomfortable nap in the street as the smell of burnt hair filled the air.
Belangar, the Orc warlock took it upon himself to inspire the fear of death into the hearts of those that chose to interrupt their morning stroll. A volley of a dozen Scorching Rays came from him like a gunfighter fanning a peacemaker, one ray for all but those hiding down alley ways, and the first critical hit of the fight. a roll and one of the cultists was blinded for a round, learning why you don’t look directly at a laser pointer, specifically one made of fire.
His screams of pain and blind panic, coupled with the fact that the robed orc had with one hand dealt fiery pain to nearly all of them, a wave of fear gripped all but the most zealous… or stupid. Meanwhile the static fluffed Tabaxi monk, Star, who had narrowly escaped the dragon’s lightning breath, took a lucky hit from one of the two half-dragons in the group of assailants, but that would be the only hit as she launched into a barrage of strikes against his scaly hide.
The Fighter, Lars, brandished his heavy crossbow, his Mandalorianesque armor gleaming in the morning sun as he let loose bolt after bolt, hitting one exceptionally hard with a critical hit, gaining a moral bonus for the party of +1 to attack for the next round. Ganth, finally done laughing at the woefully clumsy Half-Dragon that had stumbled into their way before their ambush was ready to strike, took a pot shot at an advancing cultist, placing a hand crossbow bolt through the aggressor’s hand with another crit, making him drop his weapon and once more the prowess of their quarry made the cultists question their faith.
The half-dragon that had flanked the party now dueled with the lithe Feline monk, his quick and vicious attacks with his shield failed against the trained agile skill of monk, resulting in time after time of losing sight of her from his shield attack only to have her pop up from the other side to give a flurry of blows to him in a manner similar to her smaller domestic kin.
The fear began to settle deep in their souls as the cultists began to see the folly of their ways, Belangar manifested his hex blade from the darkness of his soul and let its blood lust loose upon a cultist that had moved next to him. a quick succession of cuts and an observant attack of opportunity from the monk left the lone swordsman injured and trying to stand after being knocked prone. Lars and Ganth let loose their bolts upon the enemy in front, watching as they fell in succession. The dragon watched as we now realize the two half-dragons were his, now disowned, sons struggled to land even a single blow. the one fighting the monk could not hit her while the one that had entered melee with the fighter and rogue found himself taking a swift pommel of Lars’s sword to the jaw in a surprise critical off hand attack, barely doing a scratch of damage but a glass jaw is a glass jaw, and he went down for the count.
A single cultist that had been straggling behind the dragon chose, with the sight of how his fellow cultists were fairing, to realize that his mother was right, this was just a phase and he was ready to come back and work the farm. With a moment to see if anyone cared, he turned and left without a word, dropping his sword and robes in a nearby pile of refuse before moving on with his life.
Disheartened by his incompetent sons, the young blue dragon chose pride over family and made a disappointed escape into the winding alleys and streets.
Lars took a brief moment to turn and feed Fiona a potion of healing, returning her from the grasp of death.
having had the worst morning of her life, let alone the past weeks, Fiona rose to her feet, glared at the remaining four cultists that continued to sling arrows at the group from what they assumed was a safe distance, and with a series of memorized motions and words that echoed as her eyes and the air came to life with flickers of flame, before turning old lady Ellis’s prized window box of flowers to ash, along with a good amount of laundry that hung outside of the windows and clothes lines that lined the long street for the next 40 feet with an inferno of hate filled reckless abuse of magic power, The Gnome let loose a fireball upon them not just because they had nearly killed her, but because frankly it was way too early and they couldn’t even wait until she had had her coffee.
It was at this moment, watching as his father turned his back upon him, his brother lay face down in the street while an orc fired more scorching rays at the only still slightly alive ally that had not already been burnt to a crisp or run away, and really was not doing so well from the rapid series of some 20 or more blows to the head from the monk, In a moment of overwhelming failure fueled depression, realized that the only thing he could still do right, since the monk was frankly taking a considerable amount of time, was to take his own life. (honestly it was three rounds of failed attacks against the monk and a natural 1, crit self came up on the crit fumble die).
The party stood among the carnage, blood and ash coated the cobble street and scorch marks stripped the walls. One Half-dragon lay unconscious, ready to be taken prisoner. There was a distinct need for coffee, or mead… or both and stronger.
(I may have forgotten exactly how it all went, but to put it simply, these dice added that little bit of something more with just a few extra, exciting rolls. Even just the whole effect of causing the enemy to make a fear check because of the warlock crit on one of his scorching rays, which if you think about how it looked, really should have been one of those moments that causes the enemy to hesitate because, he just hit almost everyone in one round like some kind of action hero.)
Want your own set? check them out here New Comet Games ( https://www.newcometgames.com/shop )





