Context in Leveling

Nirrum is a Max-level bard with some permanent magic enhancements.

I, on the other hand have a few networking certificates.

This installment is a context and perspective blog on the value of a level, again focusing mostly on Fifth Edition, and lacks any mechanical input. 

When a person of exceptional calibur decides to set out from their village and undertake the life of a protagonist, it is well known that they stand head and shoulders above their peers. They are on a New level. Level ONE.  It's an achievement. Roughly double the toughness, roughly 5% better at everything depending on what universe they live in, They might even have..... class features. Incredible isn't it? In 5e specifically, some of these people can kill people with their bare hands in as little as one strike. I once saw a man kill two others with a single punch each. Bear in mind the average peasant has 10ac and 3.5hp. Stepping on three caltrops, Getting beat with a baseball bat, getting stabbed with a knife are all more than enough to put the average person out of a fight, if not kill them. Four "I actually need to care about this" punches should be enough to drop someone, a crit might knock them out if someone has a extra point in their strength mod. But level one? Even the Wizard at level one requires a bit more to take them down, though, not by much. So what is a level?

Everything can kill you: Don't die.

We once played a campaign for a full year at 1st level. This setting even had guns, specifically those that could have been potentially available in England during the year 1868. I will dispel myths now that you need to level to have fun. Once we got over out Level-up withdrawals, we made abundant use of every single feature we had. We had no magic, we had only guns, wits, and character. And when A Sharpes' 45-70 government rimfire does 2d10+dex mod damage and you only have 10 or 12 health, you keep your head down. Nearly everyone you meet has the power to end you in a single shot. It was Dramatic, every fight had to be well-timed, every character interaction was measured and valuable. Every political interaction was held with the knowledge that we weren't capable of getting out of their alive unless we were fantastically lucky. Every description of every room became critical (and one DM flub came about with almost a TPK and several unsatisfying deaths from not describing the room well enough. I've never quite recovered from losing that character). At this level, a short sword was a dangerous proposition, and a greatsword? A greatsword is intent to kill. Firebolt does 1d10 damage at this level, Think about that. That's an average of 5.5 damage. Against 3.5 health. or a not infreqent 9 on an adventurer. The commoner is screwed, the adventurer, threatened.

The power that we had was that of being Slightly more powerful than the average chump. The most standout features were The barbarian's Rage, which would take dear Roscoe from 14hp to a whopping functional 28 hp, meaning he could tank a shotgun blast and come back swinging with enough damage to kill the average man nearly four times over; or the crossb-I mean... Pistol expert feat, allowing a character to effectively double their ranged output. This went on for a year and we were continually floored with challenges that were seemingly impossible.

 And then we hit level two. By definition, we were twice the people we had been, and damn, it showed. 

All of a sudden we felt like titans. Fisher, a rogue by definition, had picked up a level in bard. It took him two weeks to do it but he found (and commissioned the construction of) the ingredients he needed to get a familiar. Emma, my character, got action surge, making her capable of firing three shots from her starrs revolvers in one turn, and with the arch- I MEAN... marksman fighting style, She became an absolute terror of a gunslinger. When she got her powder wet, she was useless, and felt insignificant still, until fisher cast a spell to dry the powder, Prestadigitation. You have never felt awe and amazement in an rpg until someone pulls a miracle with a trick like that

The Sheer consequence of  a second level was lost on no one in the party. Suddenly we could take two, maybe even three bullets before going down. While no one managed to pick up healing, we were still terrifying forces of nature compared to the common folk. We were... On a whole 'nother level.  

And this is what it means to go even further beyond.

We never hit Level 3 in that campaign, but in others, we've gone as far as 14. In an earlier blog, I mentioned King Lazarus Honore Dorian Tibeaux-Avisen. He ended his journey at 14, as he was now not only a king, an admiral, a husband, and untouchable by nearly all physical and most forms of political attack. Comparing Tibeaux and his immediate crew with the heroes of the other campaign, the sheer dissonance in ability is staggering. The entire party from the one campaign would struggle to defeat any one from the other. Each level is a massive philosophical enhancement. Every step is the equivalent of gaining the power of an extra person. Albiet, with the action economy of one, depending on your feats and features. In 5th edition, the breakdown sounds like this

• A level 1 Adventurer is a trained and powerful person, not the sort you want to get into a bar fight with, but you might stand a chance.
• A second Level adventurer is the sort of person who exceeds the expectations you'd place on a normal person, capable of staying up long after they should have been defeated
• Third level is where we find Actual professionals. People who can access what some might consider mystical tiers of power.
• The fourth level carries an ability score increase, a measurable boost in the skill with which your character can lord over other people. Sometimes people will have trained up for a feat, and it is hard to quantify how much more powerful they are, But be aware. They are.
• Fifth level. This is where you find your wandering champion swordsman, your kingdom-class wizards, extreme masters of their arts. Their attacks always seem to hit, their spells are extremely powerful, their abilities and skill are the news.
• Historical figures with at least one volume on their deeds might be found around Sixth level. Does their strength and vitality know no bounds? Sneaking up on the mindbogglingly potent fighter at this level and trying to attack them with a dagger would need about ten well-made attacks to exhaust them to the point that they can be slain. They're too used to those tactics, their reflexes too honed, their gods paying too close attention, their very presence too potent for you to reliably think you could kill one.
• Seventh Level? These people are fairy tales. They are myths, they are legends. They never existed... did they?
• No no, 8th level can't possibly exist
• Past 8th, things aren't really comparable in terms of what a commoner sees. A few legends and myths or even historical figures might go up to 11, but their potency blends together. Anything above this walking toward a commoner that knows what it is, is the sort of thing that you tell your great grandkids... if  you survive. 

Two 9th level fighters can take on an ancient red dragon if they're  really lucky.

In other game systems a second level might not mean anything, and that cheapens the experience to me. In some systems you don't get levels, but you only get the things that you worked for. What I want to stress to those Curators that are reading this is that you should always keep in mind the context that comes with a level. Know what the commoner, the average person has going for them, and after you have that You'll get a feeling for what makes your party exceptional

Mishlia kwatsi'u kwatsi oosha.

-Nirrum