A new Class for both BECMI and 5e
(As if anyone asked for this…)
Congratulations, you’ve chosen the most impractical, paradox-ridden class in the multiverse. Everyone else picks a Fighter, Rogue, or Wizard, sensible folk who stab things, nick things, or blow things up. But not you. No, you fancied breaking causality itself because waiting your turn in initiative order wasn’t complicated enough.
The Time Traveller is the sort who can’t decide whether to order a pint or a mead, so they simply pop into the future, ask their older self what they had, and then come back looking smug. They stride into the dungeon wearing armour that hasn’t been invented yet, wielding slang from the 1980s, and claiming to have met your grandchildren at a disco in 2074.
Of course, this raises questions.
Do you actually travel through time, or do you just lie convincingly?
If you step back a minute to avoid being stabbed, does that mean you’re now late for your own funeral?
And if you “accidentally” erase the villain’s great-great-grandmother from history, do we still get XP for that?
The answer to all these questions is a resounding: “Ask your DM, mate.”
In BECMI terms, you’re like a Magic-User with fewer fireballs and more headaches. In 5e, you’re the wizard’s eccentric cousin who insists the timeline is a “suggestion, not a rule.” Either way, you’ll be the one responsible for turning the campaign into a cosmic version of British Rail: full of delays, cancellations, and the occasional inexplicable dragon.
So grab your stopwatch, polish your paradoxes, and remember: when someone tells you “you’re ahead of your time”… that’s not a compliment.
Class Concept
You are the person who turns up to a medieval tavern with a wristwatch, a confused look, and a habit of saying, “Sorry, wrong century!” You meddle with causality, rewrite destiny, and probably cause half the paradoxes the DM now has to sort out. The villagers think you’re a wizard, but really you’re just fiddling with the buttons on your cosmic alarm clock.
Hit Dice
BECMI: 1d4 per level (because mucking about with time is exhausting and you’re not built for fisticuffs).
5e: 1d6 Hit Die. You’re sturdier than a Magic-User, but don’t expect to tank an orc with a clock spring.
Prime Requisite
BECMI: Intelligence (for remembering what century you left your shoes in).
5e: Intelligence or Wisdom, depending on whether you’re more Doctor Who or your Aunt Mildred shouting, “It’s half past!”
Armour & Weapons
BECMI: You may wield daggers, staves, and “anachronistic objects that confuse peasants.”
5e: Light armour, simple weapons, plus one “signature timepiece” (a pocket watch, sundial, or suspiciously glowing microwave oven).
Special Abilities
Here’s where the watch hands really spin.
BECMI Style:
Level 1 – Clockblocker: Once per day, stop time for 1 round. Everyone else freezes while you make funny faces, rearrange chairs, or pinch the duke’s hat.
Level 5 – Déjà Vu: Once per adventure, re-roll one failed check. You get to say, “Didn’t I already do this?” in a smug voice.
Level 9 – Time Tourist: You may accidentally arrive in a future or past adventure hook. DM rolls 1d6:
1–3: You help.
4–5: You hinder.
6: You accidentally invent disco.
5e Style:
Level 1 – Temporal Snark: Cast Guidance or Vicious Mockery, but you must make it a time-related pun. (“You’re history!” is acceptable. “You’re timeless!” is not.)
Level 3 – Minor Paradox: Once per short rest, declare that you already succeeded on a roll. You must then explain when you did it. The DM sighs.
Level 7 – Chrono-Dodge: Use your reaction to step 6 seconds into the past, avoiding one attack. Unfortunately, you appear with mussed hair.
Level 14 – Grandfather Paradox: Once per long rest, erase a single creature from the encounter by claiming they were never born. This may cause the DM to flip the table.
Level 20 – Time Lord’s Tea Break: You step outside the campaign for 1d4 hours of real-world time. When you return, you may rewrite one campaign event as though it never happened. Use this responsibly (you won’t).
Advancement
BECMI: Levels cap at 36, obviously. By then you’re less a traveller and more the manager of a cosmic bus schedule.
5e: Level progression as normal. At high levels, you’re basically running the multiverse like it’s your personal diary.
Saving Throws
BECMI: Use Magic-User chart, but add +2 vs. “Embarrassing Situations.”
5e: Proficient in Intelligence and Wisdom saves. Also immune to daylight savings time.
Paradox Points (5e only)
You gain a pool of “Paradox Points” equal to your proficiency bonus. Spend them to bend time, but each time you do, the DM rolls a d20:
On a 1, a random NPC vanishes from existence. (Yes, even Steve the Innkeeper. Especially Steve the Innkeeper.)
Flavour Text
Picture it:
A gang of burly Fighters is striding into the dungeon.
Behind them, the Time Traveller trips over his own pocket watch chain, muttering, “Blast! I set it to Celsius instead of Fahrenheit again!”
The Cleric sighs, the Thief steals his shoes, and the Dragon is already Googling “Paradox loopholes.”
That’s adventuring with a Time Traveller.
Do you need MORE CHAOS in your campaign setting? Are your players too smug for their faces? Is your DM out to get you personally? Try DUNGEON DUNCE The TTRPG Family Farce!
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