[House Rules] Leveling-up

I've been reading up on leveling-up and requirement for training etc. and it seems that both the rules and general opinion have changed since 1st edition days. People even run campaigns now where you can level-up mid-combat (which is a bit crazy if you ask me). Anyway, I thought it sensible to make clear our house rules on this and invite critisism formally.

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General Interpretation : Leveling up is a gradual process that occurs all the time PCs face challenging conditions. They train and practice all the time, but what makes them better is experience - that is what the XP system is about. Otherwise anyone could just train 24 hours a day for 2 years and become a 10th level fighter.

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Rule #1 : PCs can level up in one of their existing classes at any time, it does not require weeks of training with a mentor. However, it does require down time to think and reflect - it cannot be done in mid-combat or in a perilous situation.

Rule #2 : Practically, leveling-up should be left to between game sessions as it can be distracting and time consuming. This means that adventures can be large and split over a number of sessions with leveling up between sessions. There would be no requirement for PCs to go back to town, level-up and then come back for more.
[EDIT] This does not stop us from allowing mid-game level-up where necessary. (e.g. previous session a PC gains not quite enough XP to level-up, he should prepare his leveled up character anyway between sessions and level-up when appropriate. So long as the DM is willing to count XP mid-game)

Rule #3 : Training costs. There are no GP costs associated with leveling up (except for conditions below).

Rule #4 : If a PC wants to multi-class, then gaining the 1st level in a new class does require 1-2 weeks training, and should have a cost of 1000gp. If the PC wants to gain a Prestige Class, then they will require to find a mentor and cover training and costs (2x that of an ordinary class).

Issue: a problem with all this is that the training costs were a general drain on the PCs gold reserves meaning that they did not get crazily rich. However there are other ways of handling this, e.g. paying to identify magical items (instead of the DM just telling them).

So, I welcome your comments:
Assif

Diary of Eolar

Watching the others leave, I was looking forward to spend a few days in the wilderness again. I'd have to make sure that the remains of the fake lighthouse are removed and the old lighthouse resumes its activity. I already spoke to some of the lizard folk and they seem to be friendly. I think I'm staying in the lighthouse, there should be a lizardmen settlement close by. It seems that they don't follow a higher god, so they might be open to the teachings of St.Cuthbert.

2 days passed since the last entry. I'm sitting in the lighthouse looking out to the calm sea. It's a wonderful, quiet place to recover and meditate. The lighthouse is working and judging by the ships passing by, the route to Seawell is open again. The lizard men come to the lighthouse frequently to bring food and goods and they've already agreed to keep the lighthouse running till a new keeper arrives. They are reclusive creatures and I have only met a handful so far. They also don't seem to be interested in their spiritual health, but some at least showed interest in divine matters.

The carts arrived from Seawell today. I already had a look through the goods the pirates had piled up the last days. It wasn't a big treasure but enough for the 4 of us. You have to be grateful for what St.Cuthbert sends you! While the stuff got loaded up, I said farewell to the lizard men whose hospitality I enjoyed the last days. Although I haven't met many, I have the suspicion there are hundreds in the swamps if not more. But their tribes are hard to find if they don't want you to. I'm fully recovered and ready again to guide my fellow adventurers in their search for a good spiritual life. I'm following the carts back to Seawell. Let's see what St.Cuthbert prepared for us!

The coming of Gajarpan

Bodush retired early to his lodgings after the hanging, the cries of the mob as the wrecker captain was strung up, reminding him too much of the orcs' savage laughter and hooting. He had watched too many helpless captives being murdered at the hands of a merciless orc mob, to ever enjoy the spectacle of execution. No matter how many times he told himself that she had been a ruthless murder, or reminded himself of all the grief and suffering she had left in her wake, it still left a bitter taste in his mouth, and he refused all invitations to the celebrations that followed Erqua's death. Instead he locked himself up in his bedchamber with the ingredients he had purchased earlier, an assortment of herbs and other ingredients, a small cauldron and a cage containing a tiny viper.

Staying up all night, chanting and slowly boiling the contents of the cauldron, he slowly attuned himself to the small animal. Getting dizzy from the noxious fumes and lack of sleep, he cut his finger and let a few drops of his lifeblood fall into the cauldron, where it mixed with the poison he milked from the viper.

As dusk approached again, he opened the small cage, and carefully took out the small snake. He slowly dipped into the cooling liquid of the cauldron, feeling it wriggle in fear as it was held under for a few seconds. Lifting the snake, and still holding it, he knelt and drank from the cauldron.

His mind reeled for a few seconds as the memories and emotions of the snake overwhelmed him, the joy of a hot rock in spring, fear as two legged giants approached, the taste of a small mouse being swallowed, and the drowsy cold of autumn. He could feel the snake coil itself around his wrist, tightening its grip. He stared into the snake's eyes, and for a second, he could not tell if he was a man holding a snake, or a snake coiled around a man. Slowly the sensation passed and the snake let go, falling to the ground, coiling up in front of the heat of the fireplace.

As he knelt and gingerly reached out to stroke its scaly head, he felt waves of well-being radiate from his familiar, mirroring his own sense of relaxation and completion.

Looking down at his familiar, he knew that he never would have to be alone again.

"I think I will call you Gajarpan", he said to the snake, knowing that it did not understand.

The orcish word for snake, comprised of the words for silent and fear, seemed strangely appropriate.

A hanging

The people of Seawell cheer as Mendez, Bodush and Wer pass through the streets with the wrecker captain Erqua Ashilim bound and humiliated. They push her in front of them forcing her to keep moving, enjoying the grateful cheers of a relieved people.

When back in the mayors house with Erqua behind bars, they start to tell of what they found. Of course their tales are given an extra breath or two to inflate them (A pack of Worgs, A Zombie Army!!), but when the come to the evil deeds of Erqua and her band of Wreckers, no such exaggeration is needed. They know that when the townspeople hear of the heartless muder of the lighthouse keeper and his young family, there can only be one result.

The guard are less troubled by lizard-folk attacks since the heroes return. (Clearly the wreckers had been paying at least one tribe of the lizard-folk to launch these raids in the first place.) So, the mayor dispatches the lieutenant of the guard with 8 men and carts and mules to relieve the brave and righteous Eolar of his charge and bring back the lost goods.

Fittingly, the heroes are given a weeks lodging and all the help they need in recovering from their ordeals. When Eolar returns, all the adventurers split their proceeds¹ and resume their training in their arts of combat and magic use with renewed vigor, bringing their recently fought experience² to good use.

As for Erqua, well, that one is very strange. She was hanged after all, but before she went she made clear to everyone where she knew the mayor from before. Their days as pirates on the high seas became public knowledge. The mayor now sits on the same bench as Erqua once occupied, awaiting his trial.

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Notes:
1. Treasure: You found 12 casks of salted meat, 18 casks of wine/spirits, 28 bales of cloth, 1500 copper ingots, 19 casks of oil and 15 casks of herbs and spices. (The total value 1478gp). Plus 600gp and 2 gems (100gp each).
Magic: (in addition to the potions I already told you about from the boy Frok and the pirate patrol): On the pirates and in their hoard:: 3 potions of cure light wounds, 1 potion of Mage Armour, 1 potion of endure elements, 1 potion of invisibility, 1 scroll identify (arcane), 1 scroll chill touch (arcane), 1 scroll summon monster 1 (divine). 1 magical ring (unidentified). 1 magical pair of bracers.
Weapons: On Erqa and her crew at the camp: 4 masterwork Cutlasses, 2 Masterwork Light Crossbows, 1 Masterwork dagger. (Re-sale value 160gp each)
Reward for Erqua alive: 400gp (plus the 50gp each you were promised)

2. Experience Points. You are awarded the following XP: Mendez (1070XP), Wer (1095XP), Bodush (1045XP) and Eolar (1090XP). Congratulations you all progress!! You will need to *pay* for your training though!

The journey back

Walking at a slow trudge, Mendez, Wer and Bodush make their way back through the open deltas towards town.
Turning to Bodush, Mendez whispers; “This shirt’s ruined! Do you realise how much it cost? This little escapade had better be worth my while.”
They keep a tight watch on the bound and gagged female pirate.
“There'd better be a reward for her as well.”
Despite his complaints about the trivial, Mendez is genuinely worried about Eolar. Left behind to guard the recaptured cargo.
He is also deeply concerned by the numerous deaths he’d seen. More so, he’s disturbed that one of those deaths could have been his own!
Perhaps choosing to be a Ranger had been a mistake?

New assignation in Seawell

It was a small and dirty pub at the harbour. He was sitting in a far corner, watching the people. Prosperous harbour towns like Seawell always attract all types of visitors: Adventurers and tradesmen as well as thieves and other outlaws. He didn't like crowds of any kind and normally tried to avoid settlements of any race. Memories came to his mind that reminded him why. ...

His father, a respected but solitary living elf who never considered the problems of elves or other races his own, died in a far away battle shortly after his birth. Treated by her own blood like an outlaw, his human mother was expelled for mingling with elves and so
they lived alone in his fathers hide-out in Nan Elmroth trying to avoid humans and were avoided by elves who regarded them inferior.
On his 10th birthday, the hide-out was attacked and his mother killed by marauding orks.
He managed to flee, but had to learn that being a half-breed doesn't make life easier.
Trying to find help in a human settlement, all he found was abuse, racism and expulsion and he had to fight his way out of towns more than just once.
Also his half-elvish parentage proved to be no remedy as elves regarded him impure and refused to welcome him. So for many years, he went back into the woods where he tried to survive alone.

Eolars attention got attracted by a ranger entering the pub. He heard his name in a whispered conversation close to him - Mendez. The stranger looked around as he was searching for someone and then went to a darker area of the bar, also watching the travellers coming in.
His style and the way he moved made him look as he didn't belonged into this kind of pub. While watching the ranger, more memories floated up in his mind....

He saw the face of the monk - Geolathon, a half-elf like him - in front of him. The monk found him near a ruin of an old cathedral in Nan-Elmroth and took him in. Eolar knew how to survive and how to fight his way through live, but Geolathon gave him a home and taught
him how to read and write. From him he learned patience, eloquence and further up the road, how to read old scriptures, use ancient knowledge and spellcraft. Slowly along the way he got introduced into the teachings of St.Cuthbert. Over the course of many years, the savaged boy grew into a confident, eloquent cleric with a cemented faith.
He learned to control his inflammableness towards injustice and racism and how to use the power he can draw from his god in order to defend himself and help others.
Geolathon, who came from the same background, gave up fighting against chaos long ago as he was convinced it was a forlorn fight. Eolar in contrast developed a growing desire to actively fight it and spread the lawful words of St.Cuthbert - in case of need with force. Short-tempered as he still was, it often was the latter....

Two more travellers now joined Mendez on the other side of the pub. The first one - a human as it seemed - looked like a sorcerer. He turned his head and Eolar saw a strange glint in his eye he wasn't sure about - a strange aura surrounded the stranger. The second arrival was as strange as the first, but for a totally different reason. She just tried to reach up for the counter to grab the beer she ordered. Beeing just about 3 feet, this was a undertaking worth watching. While he saw the small person jumping up and down, he remembered why he was here!

On the deathbed, Geolathon broke it to him, that he was send by St.Cuthbert through visions to teach him. Also Eolar had these from time to time and the last thing the monk taught him before leaving this world was that these divine visions should guide his life. The last one brought him to Seawell and made him look for a challenge....

Looking at the group at the bar, these adventurers were definitely in need of spiritual guidance. The sorcerer still made Eolar feel uncomfortable, but he couln't pin-point what it was. If this was the challenge St.Cuthbert set up for him, he was ready to take it! He downed the last drops of his beer and after putting the jug down, walked over to his new assignation.....

Seawell

Seawell, hot, sweaty and often violent. Its bustling sea port brings in the trade and with it prosperity. Ships come from far off lands bringing tales of adventure and treasure and this attracts so many people just like you who leave their little villages looking for fame and fortune. People of all kinds can be found here along with folk who many would hardly call people at all, they are so strange looking.
You can get what you want, within reason, but take care; there is always a dark alley with a thug waiting to steal you purse in exchange for a cut-throat. You could try to call on the local militia, but you wouldn't get far unless there was something in it for them. In any case, at the moment they are more preoccupied with the increasing raids from the Siarsk lizard-folk clan who are based at the southern end of the peninsula that is to the east of town.

So, dear adventurer, call upon whatever god or minion you favour, take your sword in your hand and go seek your destiny ...

fare-well

Timarik scribe to Captain Boscorm, Mayor of Seawell