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PC Roles


Let me tell you about my character, Nils, and how he contributed a few grace notes to 4th Edition’s concepts of character class roles.

Nils isn’t a 4th Edition character; he’s my old 3.5 character from Mark Jessup’s “Nine Chords” campaign. There are nine deities in Mark’s homebrew world, one deity each for the nine alignment slots. Each of the gods is a great bard whose personal pleasure and cosmic power flows from ritual bragging in front of the other gods about the kickass accomplishments of their worshippers. (Perhaps this arrangement will seem even more fitting when I mention that Mark is the director of marketing here at Wizards of the Coast…)

In a world like this, someone in the party has got to play a bard. But when the character class draft went down, everyone stepped back toward fighter or cleric or wizard or rogue, and nobody was willing to jump on the lute grenade. Mark was disappointed with us. I hate to see a disappointed DM, so I vowed to detour into bard-land just as soon as I was comfortable with Nils as a fighter.

Four greatsword-swinging levels of fighter later, Nils entered the path of lute-n-flute. My roleplaying opportunities increased because I was now the spokesman and PR agent for the PC group. But in encounters that focused on combat instead of roleplaying, Nils was forced into a mold pro basketball analysts call a “tweener,” too wimpy to play power forward alongside the ranger and the barbarians, and not capable of long-range shots like the wizard.

The PC group appreciated the singing bonuses Nils provided, and they appreciated his eventual haste spell, but supplying those bonuses meant that I spent at least two rounds at the start of combat making everyone else better without doing much of anything myself, except maybe moving around. Once I entered the combat, I survived by making judicious use of the Combat Expertise feat.

By the time the campaign slowed down to once or twice a year sessions, I’d played Nils for seven bard-only levels and obtained a much clearer perspective on the problems faced by D&D characters who don’t feel a clear niche. Fighters, rogues, clerics, and wizards all occupy pivotal places in a D&D PC group’s ecology, while the bard is singing from offstage reminding everyone not to forget the +1 or +2 bonuses they’re providing to attacks and saves against fear.

When Andy (Collins), James (Wyatt), and I put together the basic structure of 4th Edition, we started with the conviction that we would make sure every character class filled a crucial role in the player character group. When the bard enters the 4th Edition stage, she’ll have class features and powers that help her fill what we call the Leader role. As a character whose songs help allies fight better and recover hit points, the bard is most likely to fit into a player character group that doesn’t have a cleric, the quintessential divine leader.

Unlike their 3e counterparts, every Leader class in the new edition is designed to provide their ally-benefits and healing powers without having to use so many of their own actions in the group-caretaker mode. A cleric who wants to spend all their actions selflessly will eventually be able to accomplish that, but a cleric who wants to mix it up in melee or fight from the back rank with holy words and holy symbol attacks won’t constantly be forced to put aside their damage-dealing intentions. A certain amount of healing flows from the Leader classes even when they opt to focus on slaying their enemies directly.

Does every group need a Leader class? Not necessarily. Is it worth having more than one Leader in a party? Maybe.

We settled on crucial roles rather than on necessary roles. 4th Edition has mechanics that allow groups that want to function without a Leader, or without a member of the other three roles, to persevere. Adventuring is usually easier if the group includes a Leader, a Defender, a Striker, and a Controller, but none of the four roles is absolutely essential. Groups that double or triple up on one role while leaving other roles empty are going to face different challenges. They’ll also have different strengths. That’s the type of experiment you’ll be running in eight months. Before then, we’ll have more to say about the other roles.

One last thing before I go, since I started this note off by talking about Nils. This time, let me say a few things to Nils directly: “Nils, it’s been fun playing you. But I’ll see you again in a future incarnation, and this time around when Al-Faregh the wizard and Jum the barbarian are chopping up beholders, you’re going to be fighting on the same playing field instead of handing out Gatorade cups and singing the national anthem.”

by Rob Heinsoo

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Points of Light

The Dungeons & Dragons game assumes many things about its setting: The world is populated by a variety of intelligent races, strange monsters lurk on other planes, ancient empires have left ruins across the face of the world, and so on. But one of the new key conceits about the D&D world is simply this: Civilized folk live in small, isolated points of light scattered across a big, dark, dangerous world.

Most of the world is monster-haunted wilderness. The centers of civilization are few and far between, and the world isn’t carved up between nation-states that jealously enforce their borders. A few difficult and dangerous roads tenuously link neighboring cities together, but if you stray from them you quickly find yourself immersed in goblin-infested forests, haunted barrowfields, desolate hills and marshes, and monster-hunted badlands. Anything could be waiting down that old overgrown dwarf-built road: a den of ogre marauders, a forgotten tower where a lamia awaits careless travelers, a troll’s cave, a lonely human village under the sway of a demonic cult, or a black wood where shadows and ghosts thirst for the blood of the living.

Given the perilous nature of the world around the small islands of civilization, many adventures revolve around venturing into the wild lands. For example:

Roads are often closed by bandits, marauders such as goblins or gnolls, or hungry monsters such as griffons or dragons. The simple mission of driving off whomever or whatever is preying on unfortunate travelers is how many young heroes begin their careers.

Since towns and villages do not stay in close contact, it’s easy for all sorts of evils to befall a settlement without anyone noticing for a long time. A village might be terrorized by a pack of werewolves or enslaved by an evil wizard, and no one else would know until adventurers stumbled into the situation.

Many small settlements and strongholds are founded, flourish for a time, and then fall into darkness. The wild lands are filled with forgotten towers, abandoned towns, haunted castles, and ruined temples. Even people living only a few miles away from such places might know them only by rumor and legend.
The common folk of the world look upon the wild lands with dread. Few people are widely traveled—even the most ambitious merchant is careful to stick to better-known roads. The lands between towns or homesteads are wide and empty. It might be safe enough within a day’s ride of a city or an hour’s walk of a village, but go beyond that and you are taking your life into your hands. People are scared of what might be waiting in the old forest or beyond the barren hills at the far end of the valley, because whatever is out there is most likely hungry and hostile. Striking off into untraveled lands is something only heroes and adventurers do.

Another implication of this basic conceit of the world is that there is very little in the way of authority to deal with raiders and marauders, outbreaks of demon worship, rampaging monsters, deadly hauntings, or similar local problems. Settlements afflicted by troubles can only hope for a band of heroes to arrive and set things right. If there is a kingdom beyond the town’s walls, it’s still largely covered by unexplored forest and desolate hills where evil folk gather. The king’s soldiers might do a passable job of keeping the lands within a few miles of his castle free of monsters and bandits, but most of the realm’s outlying towns and villages are on their own.

In such a world, adventurers are aberrant. Commoners view them as brave at best, and insane at worst. But such a world is rife with the possibility for adventure, and no true hero will ever lack for a villain to vanquish or a quest to pursue.

by Rich Baker

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Dungeon Design in 4E

The year 2000 was a heady time for D&D players. 3rd edition was finally released after a year of previews. A game that had almost fallen off the radar of gamers everywhere came back with a bang. There was a tangible sense of energy in the air at Gen Con that year. People were excited about the toys they read about in their shiny new Player’s Handbooks and, better yet, the toys were incredibly fun.

Thus, it was with some surprise that, when I returned home from Gen Con and set to work on my first adventure, I was a little unhappy. According to the rules, a 1st level party could face a single Challenge Rating 1 monster, or an Encounter Level 1 group of beasts. That seemed reasonable, until I started designing adventures. The rules presented the following possibilities:

One gnoll
One troglodyte
Two orcs
Two hobgoblins
Four goblins

None of these really excited me. Four goblins on the map might be fun, but a fighter with the Cleave feat put that thought to bed. I wanted Keep on the Borderlands and the moat house from Village of Hommlet. My dungeons felt boring because I couldn’t fit many monsters into each room.

Admittedly, 3rd Edition brought some sense and standardization to encounters that other editions glossed over, but that didn’t change a simple fact—I wanted lots of humanoids running around my dungeon rooms, and 3rd Edition said I could do that only if I wanted a TPK.

Over the years, my initial frustration with the game never faded. By the time the party was of a high enough level to handle a fight with six orcs, the poor orcs’ AC and attacks were too low to pose much of a threat. In the end, I just fudged my encounters to create the excitement and variety I was. Despite what the game told me, a low-level party could take on three or four orcs without a massacre (for the PCs, at least).

The 4E Way: Monsters, Monsters, Monsters!

In 4th Edition, your dungeons are going to be a lot more densely populated. The typical encounter has one monster per PC in the party, assuming that the monsters are about the same level as the PCs. An encounter’s total XP value determines its difficulty, allowing you a lot more freedom to mix tougher and weaker monsters. Even better, the difference between a level X monster and a level X + 1 monster is much smaller. You can create an encounter using monsters that are three or four levels above the party without much fear. Add in the rules for minions (which will be described in a future Design & Development article), and you could (in theory) match twenty goblins against a 1st-level party and have a fun, exciting, balanced fight.

This shift in encounter design means a lot for dungeons. With all those monsters running around, you need to give them a fair amount of space for a number of reasons:

The monsters need to bring their numbers to bear on the party. Wider corridors and rooms allow the monsters to attack as a group. A monster that’s standing around, waiting for the space it needs to make an attack, is wasting its time.

Multiple avenues of attack make things scary for the PCs and make it easier to get all the monsters into the action. The typical dungeon room where the PCs are on one side of the door and the monsters are on the other grows dull after a while. The PCs kick open the door, form a defensive formation in the doorway, and hack the monsters to pieces. There’s little tactical challenge there.

Reinforcements need a route to the battle. With more monsters in a fight, you can design dynamic encounters where the orcs in the room next door come barging into the fight to see what’s going on. An extra door or passage in the encounter area is a convenient route for the rest of the encounter’s monsters to show up on the scene. Just because the encounter calls for five orcs doesn’t mean that all five start the encounter in the party’s line of sight.

Example: Dungeon of the Fire Opal


As part of an early playtest, I dug up a map that 1st and 3rd Edition veterans might recognize. Here’s an example of an encounter I built using the basic philosophy outlined above.

Notice that the map marks these rooms as separate areas, three 20 foot-by-30 foot rooms. Measured in squares, that’s 4 by 6, small enough that even a dwarf could stomp from one end of the room to the next in one move action. That’s doesn’t make for a very interesting encounter. If I tried to squeeze four or five monsters into each of those rooms, there would be barely enough room for the party and their foes to fit. The fight would consist of the two sides lining up and trading attacks for 3–4 rounds. Few inherently interesting tactical options can even come into play.

Even worse, the map offers few strategic events. The monsters might flee out the secret door in area 9 or one of the doors in area 8, but with such small rooms it would be easy for the PCs to block the exits or move next to any of the monsters before they could run.

When I went back and used this map to design a 4th Edition adventure, I combined all three rooms into one encounter area. Area 9 was a torture chamber staffed by four goblin minions. Area 8 was a guard room manned by two hobgoblin warriors, while the bugbear torturer lounged in his private chamber, area 7. In play, the party walked south toward area 9, ignoring the door to area 7 for the moment. The rogue and ranger tried to sneak up on the hobgoblins in area 8, but the monsters spotted them and attacked. When the hobgoblins yelled for help, the goblins charged from area 9 and the bugbear emerged from his chamber to attack the party’s wizard from behind.

The fight was a tense affair in the T-intersection between areas 8 and 9. Caught between three groups of monsters, the party had to constantly move to protect the vulnerable wizard, heal PCs who fell to the combined attacks of the hobgoblins and bugbear, and spend precious actions hacking down the goblin minions.

I didn’t do anything fancy with the map or add any magical elements to the fight. It was simply a tough melee in close quarters with attackers coming in from three directions at once. The dungeon was a dynamic environment, with three groups of connected monsters responding to the PCs’ intrusion into their area.


So, that’s the first rule of 4th Edition dungeon design. Now that you have more monsters to throw at the party, you can create encounters that spill over greater areas. Opening a door in one area might cause monsters to come from other areas of the dungeon to investigate. With the emphasis switched from one party against one monster to one party against an equal number of foes, you can throw a lot more critters at the PCs.

Homework Assignment

4th Edition is still a ways off, but it’s never too early to start thinking of the dungeons you’re going to design. Here’s a little homework assignment for all of you: Pick two or three closely linked encounter areas on the sample dungeon map. While you obviously don’t have access to the new rules, you can still come up with ideas for encounters. Assuming that you can use four or five monsters, pick two or three encounter areas on the map and turn them into a single fight. Post your ideas in the 4th Edition forums and see what other gamers come up with.

by Mike Mearls / Art by Christopher Burdett

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What Can a Dragon Do in a Round?


4th Edition dragons are among the most dynamic, exciting monsters in the game—as they should be. They’re different from each other, across categories (the metallics aren’t like the chromatics), across colors (reds and whites don’t have all the same attacks), and across age categories (fear the ancient dragons). Here’s just a taste of what a fight against an ancient dragon might feel like:

On the dragon’s turn, the first thing it does is burst out in an inferno of flame, searing every PC within 25 feet—a free action. Then, with a standard action, it slashes out at the fighter and the cleric with its two front claws (even though they’re both 20 feet away). As another free action, it uses its tail to slap the rogue, who was trying to sneak up behind it, and pushes her back 10 feet. It’s getting angry at the wizard, so it uses a special ability to take another standard action: it spits a ball of fire at the wizard, setting him on fire. It has a move action left, which it uses to fly into a better position for its breath weapon. That ends the dragon’s turn.

It’s the fighter’s turn. He charges the dragon and manages to land a solid blow, dropping the dragon down below half its hit points. Oh—that gives the dragon the opportunity use its breath weapon as an immediate action. A huge cone of fire bursts from the dragon’s mouth, engulfing all four PCs. But at least the dragon is below 500 hit points!

Now the rogue moves around to flank with the fighter. Ordinarily, that would let the dragon use its tail slap again as an immediate action, but the dragon has used its immediate action already. That’s lucky for the rogue, who actually gets to make an attack this round! Unfortunately, she fails to hit the dragon’s AC of 49.

The wizard fails to put out the fire, so he takes more damage. Worse yet, the dragon’s breath scoured away the wizard’s fire resistance, so he takes the full amount. He blasts the dragon with a ray of freezing cold, but this isn’t 3rd Edition. The dragon takes normal damage, but it’s not enough to slow it down.

Finally, the cleric is up. Calling on the power of her god, she swings her halberd at the dragon—a critical hit! The damage isn’t bad, but even better, the wizard gets a nice surge of healing power.

He’s going to need it—it’s the dragon’s turn again.

by James Wyatt / Art by Lars Grant

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Martial Power Source


Power sources are an important part of 4th Edition. They answer the question, “How does your character do what he does?” Wizards tap into arcane magic. Paladins and clerics call on the power of the gods. For classes such as these, the answer is self-evident. Pose the same question to a fighter or rogue and the answer becomes more difficult. What separates the fighter who marches into the dragon’s lair from the local village militia? In a world of mighty gods and boundless magic, what marks the line between an average guy with a sword and a fighter?

In 4th Edition, the martial power source provides the answer. Some people, through intense training, dedication, or just plain old toughness, rise above the rest of the pack. The fighter might walk into the dragon’s lair out of a noble sense of duty or a selfish drive to prove himself mightier than a mere wyrm. He lacks the ability to control arcane magic or the dedication needed to gain power from the gods. Instead, he has his toughness, self-discipline, and supreme mastery of his fighting skills. Other characters seek to master energies from other planes or beings. The martial character seeks to master his potential—to convert it to a fully realized mastery of a fighting form.

A martial character is much like a world class athlete. An Olympic sprinter doesn’t have any special muscles or super abilities. Through a mix of inborn talent and supreme dedication, she pushes herself to achieve speeds that no other human can match. In the same manner, a fighter achieves skill with weapons and armor that soar beyond a typical person’s abilities. Like a skilled athlete, a fighter draws on his intense dedication, relentless training, and supreme focus. Potential isn’t enough, as the sports world is filled with talented people who fail to apply themselves, as well as physically limited individuals who use a combination of dedication and smarts to outplay their opponents. A martial character draws his strength from within.

In terms of flavor and description, the martial character/athlete analogy guided many decisions about the way martial characters push themselves beyond the limit. At low levels, martial characters have abilities that are impressive but don’t stretch the boundaries of what is or is not possible. Only at the highest levels do we see martial characters verging into the truly impossible acts of agility and strength attainable only in fiction.

Weapons and how fighters use them provided a blueprint for their design. A skilled halberdier can hack a foe with his weapon’s blade and spin around to smash a second foe with the haft. A fighter with a longsword disarms her foe with a flick of her wrist, while a battle hungry axeman cleaves through shields, armor, and bone. The design for fighter maneuvers came down to looking at weapons, figuring out how a fighter could use one, and deciding on special effects that felt cool for the weapon and proved useful for the class. Check out the Design & Development column on fighters and their weapons for more on this concept.

Rogues have a similar relationship with skills. A nimble rogue dives through the air to tumble past an ogre, while a charismatic one tricks an enemy into looking away just before she delivers a killing blow with her dagger. Just as fighters do more with weapons than any other character, rogues push skills beyond the limits that constrain other PCs.

The martial power source is about taking resources and abilities that have clear limits for other classes and demolishing those limits through focus, training, and skill.

by Mike Mearls / Art by David Griffith

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Why Race Matters


Set the wayback machine to May of 2004!

Even at that point, we knew 4th Edition was coming, though official work on it wouldn’t start for another year. At the time, the design team used to meet regularly in what we jokingly called the “Design Cabal.” And one day, in May ’04, we started kicking around the question of how many slices of pie a D&D character should consist of, and how big each piece should be.

In 3rd Edition, class and magic items were two big pieces of the PC pie. Race was important at 1st level, but by the time you hit 20th, there was rarely much to distinguish a dwarf fighter from a half-orc fighter. The difference between a +2 here and a +2 over there was drowned out by the huge bonuses from magic items and character level—it didn’t matter any more.

We wanted race to matter all the way up through a character’s career. We wanted there to be some difference between two characters of different races, all other things being equal. We had tried out mechanics like the racial paragons in Unearthed Arcana and the racial substitution levels in the Races of . . . series of books, and we liked the results.

In May of 2004, we started kicking around ideas like “the 20-level race.” In a 20-level race, at each level you gained, you’d get not only new class features, but also new racial qualities. Your race might predetermine which ability scores you increased at some levels, so a dwarf’s Constitution would always have an edge over characters of other races. It would grant you new special abilities as you advanced in level, always appropriate to your level, of course.

One key advantage we saw to this system was that it made it much easier to find room for new races without resorting to the kludgy and awkward mechanic of level adjustments. If we spread the tasty magical abilities of drow out through their levels, they could start at 1st level on a par with other character races. Races like the githyanki already anticipated some of that idea by granting new spell-like abilities at higher levels.

Well, over the next few years, things changed, as things are wont to do. We blew the game out to thirty levels, but put your most significant racial choices in the first ten. Above that, other choices started to crowd out room for special abilities coming from your race.

In the final version of 4th Edition, most of your racial traits come into play right out of the gate at 1st level—dwarven resilience, elven evasion, a half-elf’s inspiring presence, and so on. As you go up levels, you can take racial feats to make those abilities even more exciting and gain new capabilities tied to your race. You can also take race-specific powers built into your class, which accomplish a lot of what racial substitution levels used to do: a dwarf fighter with the friend of earth power can do something that other 10th-level fighters just can’t do.

The rules have changed a lot since that first idea of the 20-level race, but they still serve the same purpose: to make sure that your race stays not just relevant but actually important all the way up through thirty levels of adventure.

by James Wyatt / Art by William O'Connor

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Fighters: Choice of Weapons


Here’s a highly probable conversation lifted from the future, one year from today, as two players who’ve just met at a convention discuss their PC choices for their upcoming D&D game.

“I’m playing a 3rd-level human fighter named Graelar.”

“Cool. Is he weapon and shield or two-hander?”

“He’s sword and board, man.”

“Longsword?”

“Yeah. I thought about going high Con and using a hammer, but I wanted to start with the chance to make a couple of attacks, so I’m using rain of blows as my good weapon attack, and I went with high Wis so that I can switch to the better oppy powers later.”

“My elf fighter uses a spear. I like the speed and the option to go past AC. But you’ve got the fighter covered. I’ll play a halfling rogue.”

The names and destinations of the powers mentioned above might have changed by the time the game is in your hands. What won’t change is that fighters care about which weapons they use much more than other characters. Other character classes have specific weapons and weapon types that they tend to rely on while still maintaining access to a larger chunk of the weapon chart. The fighter is the only current 4th Edition class with capabilities that depend on the weapon they have chosen to train the most with. Even at 1st level, a fighter who uses an axe has a different power selection than a fighter who relies on a flail or a rapier or a pick. In the long run, fighters can diversify and master powers related to a few different weapons, but most will opt to focus on the weapon that suits their personal style, helps their interactions with the rest of the PCs in the group, and carries all the magical oomph they’ve managed to acquire.

Many fighters will opt for swords. Swords have the most flexible assortment of powers. In a fighter’s hands, the longsword is the queen of the battlefield and the greatsword is the queen’s executioner. But each of the other significant melee weapons offers the fighter unique advantages and opportunities. For the first time, you’ll be able to say “I’m an axe fighter” or “I’m a flail fighter” and that will mean something cool.

by Rob Heinsoo / Art by William O'Connor

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Monster Manual

The third of three core rulebooks for the 4th Edition Dungeons & Dragons Roleplaying Game.

The Dungeons & Dragons Roleplaying Game has defined the medieval fantasy genre and the tabletop RPG industry for more than 30 years. In the D&D game, players create characters that band together to explore dungeons, slay monsters, and find treasure. The 4th Edition D&D rules offer the best possible play experience by presenting exciting character options, an elegant and robust rules system, and handy storytelling tools for the Dungeon Master.

The Monster Manual presents more than 300 official Dungeons & Dragons Roleplaying Game monsters for all levels of play, from aboleth to zombie. Each monster is illustrated and comes with complete game statistics and tips for the Dungeon Master on how best to use the monster in D&D encounters.

Core Rulebook: The Monster Manual is the third of three core rulebooks required to play the Dungeons & Dragons Roleplaying Game.

Quick and easy play: The improved page layout and presentation enables novice and established players to learn and understand the new D&D rules quickly.

D&D Insider: The Monster Manual will receive enhanced online support at www.dndinsider.com.

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Dungeon Master’s Guide

The second of three core rulebooks for the 4th Edition Dungeons & Dragons Roleplaying Game.

The Dungeons & Dragons Roleplaying Game has defined the medieval fantasy genre and the tabletop RPG industry for more than 30 years. In the D&D game, players create characters that band together to explore dungeons, slay monsters, and find treasure. The 4th Edition D&D rules offer the best possible play experience by presenting exciting character options, an elegant and robust rules system, and handy storytelling tools for the Dungeon Master.

The Dungeon Master’s Guide gives the Dungeon Master helpful tools to build exciting encounters, adventures, and campaigns for the 4th Edition Dungeons & Dragons Roleplaying Game, as well as advice for running great game sessions, ready-to-use traps and non-player characters, and more. In addition, it presents a fully detailed town that can serve as a starting point for any D&D game.

Core Rulebook: The Dungeon Master’s Guide is the second of three core rulebooks required to play the Dungeons & Dragons Roleplaying Game.

Quick and easy play: The improved page layout and presentation enables novice and established players to learn and understand the new D&D rules quickly.

D&D Insider: The Dungeon Master’s Guide will receive enhanced online support at www.dndinsider.com.

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Player’s Handbook

The first of three core rulebooks for the 4th Edition Dungeons & Dragons Roleplaying Game.

The Dungeons & Dragons Roleplaying Game has defined the medieval fantasy genre and the tabletop RPG industry for more than 30 years. In the D&D game, players create characters that band together to explore dungeons, slay monsters, and find treasure. The 4th Edition D&D rules offer the best possible play experience by presenting exciting character options, an elegant and robust rules system, and handy storytelling tools for the Dungeon Master.

The Player’s Handbook presents the official Dungeons & Dragons Roleplaying Game rules as well as everything a player needs to create D&D characters worthy of song and legend: new character races, base classes, paragon paths, epic destinies, powers, magic items, weapons, armor, and much more.

Core Rulebook: The Player’s Handbook is the first of three core rulebooks required to play the 4th Edition Dungeons & Dragons Roleplaying Game.

Quick and easy play: The improved page layout and presentation enables new and established players to understand and learn the 4th Edition D&D rules quickly.

D&D Insider: The Player’s Handbook will receive enhanced online support at www.dndinsider.com.