Are you a roguish knave, crouched in a tavern corner with dice palmed and a purse already half-emptied of its coin? Or an assassin in the night, dagger ready, poison gleaming on the blade as you wait for your mark to pass beneath the window?
The Trickster can be either - Assassin or Knave - and many things besides. A tomb-robber, a troubleshooter, an explorer, a thief, a gambler, even a hero when necessity demands. Where the Warrior trusts in armour and warhorse, and the Enchanter in spellbook and wand, the Trickster accomplishes his deeds by guile.
Assassins are feared and despised for their cowardly ways. Stealth, trickery, and poison are their trade. They slip into guilds and secret brotherhoods, learning to strike where the foe is weakest. To knights they are dishonourable, yet to princes and guildmasters they are a necessary evil. Few adventurers follow this path - barely one in a hundred by some reckonings - but those who do seldom die of boredom.
Knaves are cut from different cloth. Vagabonds and scoundrels, they talk their way past guards, cheat at dice, and swindle their companions as readily as their enemies. Their sharp tongues open doors that locks cannot bar, and their wit wins fights without a blade drawn. Yet when pressed, they are no fools with weapons either. Knaves are the surest shots in Legend, loosing arrows with uncanny skill - a bow in their hands can settle matters long before blades cross.
Together, Assassin and Knave form the two faces of the Trickster profession. Some adventurers fight with brute strength, others with arcane might. Tricksters live by their wits. If they can win by shooting an arrow from cover or slipping a dagger between ribs, they will. They can wield a sword if pressed, but their true weapon is cunning.
In the books, the Trickster was always the rogue’s role: the liar, the cheat, the dagger in the dark. In the CRPG adaptation, I’ve taken that foundation and woven it into a full skill tree. You are not the strongest fighter nor the most potent spellcaster, but you are the one who bends the odds.
Let's take a look:
Trickster’s Touch lets you pick pockets, cheat at games, and manipulate locks and objects.
Cunning grants up to +3 Awareness as you invest more and more points, sharpening your senses for traps, ambushes, and ranged precision.
Acrobatics unlocks story choices where agility is key: climbing, leaping, dodging hazards, or slipping bonds.
Eloquence turns charm into a weapon, opening dialogue paths others cannot.
Dodging Technique makes you infuriatingly hard to pin down. At early ranks enemies add +1 to the roll to hit you; at mastery they need three dice just to land a blow, or four if you commit to defending.
When you take the offensive, the Trickster’s arsenal is cruel and inventive:
Armour Piercing lets daggers, shortswords, and throwing weapons ignore armor (to some extent).
Toxic Rain poisons a target for several turns, dealing damage over time that grows stronger as you invest further.
Throwing Spikes scatter in a small radius, striking every foe nearby for 1d6 damage, with later ranks adding Bleeding.
Smoke Jar blinds and confuses enemies in a thick haze, lowering Awareness and even Fighting Prowess while shutting down ranged attacks.
Merciless Strikes add raw damage to every successful attack, scaling from +1 to +2.
Deathvow lets you mark a single target. Each turn your first strike against them has a two-in-three chance of hitting twice. Once sworn, such vows are rarely broken.
The Warrior holds the line. The Enchanter bends the arcane. The Sage unveils hidden truths. The Trickster thrives where no one else dares - in shadows, in whispers, in the thin places between honour and survival. Assassin, Knave, a Hunter, or something in between, the Trickster proves that guile can be sharper than steel.
📜 Add Blood Sword to your wishlist and decide whether your Trickster will slip into the guilds of Ferromaine, stalk the haunted forests of Mercania, or simply grin as the world underestimates them.