When it comes time to roll the dice, figuring out which skill to use is an essential part of how a GM makes a ruling in most RPGs.

D&D 5^th Edition is no exception, even if its skill system is a little janky. When making these judgment calls, however, there’s one pair of skills that seems to cause more head scratching than any other: Athletics and Acrobatics. When a PC is trying to do X, should it be an Athletics check or an Acrobatics check? Or should you allow the player to roll whichever one they’re better at?

(Fill in whatever action you want for X.)

Sometimes and at some tables, it can feel like the overlap between the two skills is almost complete. As if they were really both the same skill and completely interchangeable with each other. And this only becomes more true if you use the variant rule where any skill can be paired with any ability scores. (Which you absolutely should, since it dramatically increases the flexibility and utility of the skill system.) At least Dexterity (Acrobatics) vs. Strength (Athletics) gives you some guidance based on the ability score, but what’s the difference between Strength (Acrobatics) and Strength (Athletics)?

But if they’re both basically the same thing, why do we even have these two different skills?

ORIGIN STORY

The distinction between Athletics and Acrobatics makes sense if you know that Climb, Jump, and Swim were separate skills in D&D 3^rd Edition and were then combined into the single Athletics skill in later editions. Athletics, and its antecedents, can therefore be coherently understood as, “Are you doing something movement-related that requires a skill check while moving in one of these movement modes?”

Acrobatics, on the other hand, is essentially just a slightly expanded version of D&D 3^rd Edition’s Balance skill and can be understood as, “Are you doing something movement-related that requires a skill check while moving, but NOT in these movement modes?”

And that’s the tip: If you simply and consistently apply this distinction – Athletics is climbing, jumping, and swimming; Acrobatics is everything else – then the overlap between the skills shrinks to almost nothing.

There will still be exceptions, particularly when it comes to complex actions involving multiple modes of movement – e.g., running along a banister and then leaping to grab a chandelier – but that’s all right. It’s okay to have some overlap between skills; it’s only a problem when the overlap becomes a total eclipse. In the now-rare circumstances when it does come up, it shouldn’t be too difficult to check your gut and figure out whether running along the banister or jumping for the chandelier is the most important part of the action. (Or, alternatively, just let the player roll whichever skill is better for them.)

Bonus Tip: Generally avoid forcing them to roll both skills in sequence to succeed. This drastically reduces the odds of success, which will sadly encourage your players to become much more drab and boring in their future action declarations.

The important thing is that you’ve established a clear distinction between the skills so that you can make consistent rulings and the users of both can flourish. (The general rubric here boils down to, “Is there a reason someone would want both skills?” If not, then you’ve probably got a problem. The other solution, of course, would be to house rule one of the skills out of existence.)

… AND THUS CONFUSION

If you find yourself in the position of needing to explain your rulings to a player who has very different preconceptions (and very strong opinions), you may also find it useful to understand why there’s so much confusion between Athletics and Acrobatics, particularly because this confusion is likely to only grow as a result of the 2024 Player’s Handbook reducing skill descriptions to a single sentence and further obfuscating the original reason for both skills existing.

In practice, I think there’s a couple key reasons.

First, people associate the word “acrobatics” with jumping. As a result, common usage – e.g., “You want to jump the chasm? Make a Dexterity (Acrobatics) check.” – immediately dissociates from the rules as written.

Second, DMs have a bias towards calling for skill checks instead of ability checks. (This is, at least in part, because “make a proficient Strength check” isn’t an established concept, so if you want characters to be benefit from their proficiency bonus you NEED to figure out a skill to call.) Therefore, when faced with a PC tackling the fairly common tasks of breaking down a door or lifting a heavy item, they start looking around for a skill and… hey, there’s Athletics!

This very common usage of Athletics isn’t wrong, per se, but further obscures the intended distinction between the skills – i.e., movement-related checks vs. movement-related checks when using a special movement mode. Once you’ve obscured (or never spotted) the intended distinction, you’re generally just left with the common dictionary definitions of the words, which gives you “physical feats featuring strength and coordination” vs. “physical acts which require strength, agility, or stamina.”

And I’m guessing, unless you happen to grab the same dictionary I just did, that you probably can’t tell which of those definitions belongs to which word.

Thus, the endless debate.

DISCUSSING
In the Shadow of the Spire – Session 41D: Back Amongst the Rats

They returned to the temple and found four watchmen standing guard before the outer door. The surrounding buildings had been evacuated.

When Tor went to speak with them he learned that a major operation involving watchmen from across the city had attempted to “root out those filthy rats”. But eight watchmen had been killed in attempting to explore the areas below the temple and now they were simply bricking up the basement to seal the problem away.

The watchmen weren’t supposed to let anyone through, but since it was Tor they didn’t think it would be a problem…

The PCs are called to adventure; they venture forth; they triumph over evil or claim the treasure or kiss the prince… and now it’s time to move on to the next adventure.

Something we don’t often think about, though, is the often-quite-literal wreckage that the PCs leave in their wake. In this session, for example, they return to the site of their previous adventure and discover that (a) the city watch has attempted to clean up the site; (b) failed rather badly; and (c) is now boarding the place up.

This establishes that the world is in motion — that stuff keeps happening even when the PCs aren’t there to see it. It also shows that the PCs’ actions have consequences. (Would those watchmen have been killed if you’d finished clearing out the rats?) Plus it’s an opportunity for exposition (as the PCs learn more about the watch and how they handle the dungeon access points within the city).

You don’t need the PCs to specifically “return to the scene of the crime” to make this work. For example, if they burn down a house while fighting gangsters in an urban campaign, you could add that to your list of landmarks (as described in So You Want to Be a Game Master) and have them notice it while traveling through that district in the future.

Such locations can develop over time: The house is rebuilt. A new family moves in. And so forth.

How things change over time will help set the theme and tone of the campaign. At the broadest level, are things getting better or getting worse? (Either in general, or in response to the PCs’ actions.)

MOVING IN

One of my favorite schticks along these lines is to look at a dungeon freshly emptied by the PCs and ask myself, “Who would move in here?”

In a previous session, we saw this happen with an ally when Sir Kabel moved into Pythoness House. We can also imagine infrastructure being claimed (or reclaimed) by local authorities: The town reopens the mine now that the skeletons have been cleared out; the tunnels discovered under the tavern are repurposed as a granary.

But it’s just as likely that the answer is a new villain! “Thanks for arresting all of Dr. Cairo’s minion,” says the Red Death. “A good secret lair is so hard to find these days!

The activities of such a villain, of course, will quickly vector back to the PCs, intersecting their path and creating new scenario hooks that will pull them back to the familiar location.

Done too often, of course, this can become repetitive and frustrating. (“We have to go back to the old lighthouse again?”) Used judiciously, however, or as part of an open table, this can be a delightful way of, once again, showing the players how their actions are affecting the game world. It’s also a fun experience because the players can take advantage of their existing knowledge of the location while also being surprised by how the new tenants have remodeled the joint.

(For similar techniques, also check out (Re-)Running the Megadungeon.)

Of course, sometimes the PCs will gun down all the cartel members at a mansion in Miami and then they’ll never see or think about the place again. (It was probably bought by some incredibly boring, but very rich, neurosurgeon.) If you want to evoke a living world, the loose threads are important, too. Not everything should play out as a closed loop.

Campaign Journal: Session 41E – Running the Campaign: Tactical Traps
In the Shadow of the Spire: Index

Review Originally Published January 3rd, 2001

What I think I like best about Forge: Out of Chaos is the fact that it manages – while avoiding the common pitfall of market ignorance in assuming that D&D is the only game which has ever existed – to unabashedly bask in the glory of “Old School” gaming. Dungeon crawls, monster bashing, ornate pantheons of gods – all the fun stuff that used to fill you with awe and pulled you into gaming in the first place.

And maybe its just nostalgia overcoming me at the grand ol’ age of twenty, but I love this stuff.

So when I opened this game up and found, immediately within its cover, a twelve-page retrospective on the gods and creation of the world of Juravia, my inner child did a little dance, scampered around for a bit, and then kicked up its heels for a really fun ride.

It’s just too bad that the next two hundred pages failed at every single level.

It’s just too bad that the designers, for reasons beyond the comprehension of man, decided to randomly generate attributes by rolling 2d6 + .1d10. (Yes, you read that right: You generate decimals.)

It’s just too bad that this skill-based system utterly fails to describe the rules for resolving any sort of non-combat action. (Yes, you read that right: If it doesn’t involve swinging a weapon or casting a spell, there aren’t any rules for it in Forge: Out of Chaos.)

It’s just too bad that, after those twelve pages of creation myth, not a single scrap of information about the world of Juravia is contained in this book.

It’s just too bad that the art in this book is not only consistently mediocre, but regularly ripped off from other sources. (I don’t care – adding wings to the giant serpent does not disguise the fact that you ripped off Michael Whelan‘s cover for Conan the Usurper.)

It’s just too bad that Basement Games, like so many other would-be game publishers, not only felt a need to reinvent the wheel – but make it in the shape of a square.

Forge: Out of Chaos tries to move beyond D&D and embrace the larger tool-set of game design tools available today, but somewhere along the way it all went horribly, horribly wrong.

Writers: Mike Kibbe, Paul Kibbe, Mark Kibbe, Jim Childs, Scott Hawkey, Blair Hughes, and Loraine Sivoy
Publisher: Basement Games Unlimited, LLC
Price: $19.95
Page Count: 202
ISBN: 1-892294-00-1
Product Code: BGU1001

As described in my review of Enchanted Worlds, during 2000 I was trying to diversify the markets for my RPG reviews. This included seeking paying gigs from outlets like Games Unplugged and Pyramid Magazine, but also from websites like the long-defunct and, as far as I can tell, almost completely forgotten Gaming Outpost. At the time, though, the Gaming Outpost actually a pretty big deal in the online RPG community, and publishers would send them review copies.

I was kind of a sucker for weird, obscure, and unusual games, so I think Graveyard Greg, who ran the site, would send me the stuff that nobody else was willing to take.

I was looking for diamonds in the rough. Unfortunately, I didn’t find one here.

DISCUSSING
In the Shadow of the Spire – Session 41C: I’ll Be Seeing You

They returned naturally to the question of their lodgings: Should they go? If so, where?

Jevicca suggested the Nibeck Street mansion. It was currently abandoned, it would give them a base of operations as close to the Banewarrens as they might care to have, and it would let them defend the entrance to the Banewarrens.

On the other hand, as Agnarr put it, “Living over the hellmouth? No thanks.”

After Arveth’s assassination attempt in the previous journal entry, the PCs were highly motivated to figure out what their permanent — and secure! — home base in Ptolus would be.

Wanting to establish a permanent residence wasn’t an entirely new thread in the campaign, however. As the GM, in fact, I was kind of surprised it hadn’t happened already.

When I was initially ginning up the In the Shadow of the Spire campaign, of course, I had anticipated that the Ghostly Minstrel would serve as their initial home base:

• It was a well-detailed location.
• There were cool, poster-sized maps of the inn to enhance play.
• I had positioned the inn as central to the mystery of the PCs’ missing time.

But then, during character creation, Tithenmamiwen unexpectedly ended up being from Ptolus. As described here, the initial pitch was that, although the campaign would be set in Ptolus, none of the PCs should be from the city, but this shifted as we developed Tee’s character background. This meant that Tee actually owned a house in Ptolus, and I assumed it was quite likely that the group would end up staying there:

But when the PCs went there, way back in Session 1, something unexpected happened:

Returning to her house, Tee found everything undisturbed – essentially as she had left it, except for a thick covering of dust. With a distracted, almost manic air, she immediately set to spring cleaning the place. Others in the group offered to help, but they had not gotten far into the work when Ranthir suddenly came to a stop: “If we’ve been back in this city for two weeks and you have not returned to this place… Perhaps there was a reason for that?”

Tee stopped what she was doing. It seemed to tear her up inside, but she was forced to admit that Ranthir was right. They left and she locked the door behind them.

And, with only a couple small exceptions, the PCs, in order to keep her friends and family safe, have not returned to Tee’s mothballed home.

When Tor’s player joined the campaign, they really wanted the group to get a house. It was something that they, as a player, had always wanted to do in a D&D game, but had never had the opportunity to actually make it happen.

I fully expected that this would happen, so I reached out and grabbed Rosegate House from the Ptolus sourcebook (pictured at the beginning of this post).

The PCs in Monte Cook’s original Ptolus campaign were gifted Rosegate House, and he set it up as a resource specifically for GMs like me who had players looking for a house in the city. (One of the great things about Ptolus as a setting is that, having been born from actual play, it’s chockablock with these kinds of practical tools and toys.)

But for whatever reason, despite often talking about it (both at the table and away from it), the PCs never did it. They never actually went looking for a house on sale. (I was surprised that even in this session, as they were actively exploring a bunch of different options, it didn’t actually come up.)

The other major candidate that had been floating around for awhile was Pythoness House, which had first appeared as an adventure location before being cleared out by the PCs. (As I’ve previously discussed, Pythoness House also has awesome graphical resources that were published for it.) I suspect that if the players hadn’t just ensconced Sir Kabel and the Order of the Dawn in Pythoness House a few sessions earlier, that this would, in fact, have been their solution. But since Pythoness House wasn’t currently available (and was also now tangled up in Church politics), it no longer seemed like a viable alternative.

For whatever reason, I had not expected them to approach Lord Zavere about the possibility of staying at Castle Shard. (If I recall correctly, that didn’t work out because they blew their Charisma check.)

PLAYER RENOVATIONS

At this point, therefore, I had actually expected the players to have long since left the Ghostly Minstrel. (Although I did hope that it would still be a place they’d visit as a social hub.)

Instead, with other options not quite panning out for a bunch of different reasons, the PCs ended up doubling down on the Ghostly Minstrel.

Which was great!

When the PCs settle into a long-term home base, I think it’s almost always a good idea to create a map of it. First, I think it makes it feel more like a real, concrete place to the players. Second, the odds that at some point they’ll get involved in a fight or some similar action scene there is approximately 110%.

In this case, as I mentioned above, there was already a great one for the Minstrel (and we’d been using it for a while):

Second Floor of the Ghostly Minstrel

Once the PCs have a home base, though, the moment will almost inevitably come when they want to remodel the joint.

So they decided to stay where they were. Instead of hiding, they would bunker down. They laid out a plan for remodeling an entire wing of the Ghostly Minstrel: A false room with a secret door would be used as a pass-thru to a real suite of other rooms connected by new, interior doors.

They spoke with Tellith, who agreed to the remodel if they paid for it and if they also paid at a year’s rent in advance for the rooms they would be converting. This done, they spent several thousand crowns and arranged for more than twenty contractors (including several master craftsmen) to install the secret door, punch thru the two new connecting doors, and to strengthen the security on the existing doors. They also hired an arcanist to ward the windows with permanent alarms. And then they spent even more money to speed a project that should rightfully take weeks until it would take only two days to complete. On top of all that, Tee set aside enough money to pay every single person working on the project a hefty bonus to forget that they had ever worked on it.

Nasira was somewhat taken aback by the sheer amount of money they were able to throw at the project (more than 5,000 crowns when all was said and done). And while the project surely tapped deeply into their resources, they all felt it was an investment worth making.

Which is also great! It’s how the PCs can truly take ownership over a space and make it definitively theirs.

Once the PCs start making major modifications, though, what do you do with your beautiful maps? Well, sometimes you’ll end up just making an all-new map. More often than not, though, I’ll us a map patch like this one:

These alter just the section of the map that has been changed. Sometimes I’ll apply the match digitally and simply print out a new copy of the full map. In this case, I just printed out a copy of the map patch itself. Several sessions later, when the renovations were complete, I was able to present the patch to the players and let them actually add it to the map themselves — a little metagame ceremony that let them share in their characters’ excitement at touring their new rooms.

You can find other map patches I’ve done for cities and wilderness maps here and here.

To create map patches like these, I simply load the map into a graphics editing program like Photoshop (scanning it first if necessary). Then a little judicious copy-and-pasting combined with the clone tool generally lets me use elements of the original map as a palette for the new one. For location maps like the Ghostly Minstrel, seek out:

• Clean sections of wall without surrounding décor. (You’ll likely need both straight walls and corners.)
• Empty floor tiles.
• Doors and windows.

Other elements can also be useful, obviously, but if you can get these basics in place, you can usually do almost anything.

You might also find it useful to seek out other maps by the same cartographer to source other useful elements while maintaining the same visual style.

It’s vitally important, of course, to keep the resolution of the patch synced to the original image so that applying the patch (whether digitally or physically) can be seamless and easy.

Campaign Journal: Session 41D – Running the Campaign: Aftermath of Adventure
In the Shadow of the Spire: Index