Into Ploughshares

So I've been thinking about Into Ploughshares again. This is partly because it just sort of got inside my head and niggles at me. Another reason is that I'm doing a lot of fiddling with games at the moment, and have managed to play a good few since I got back from abroad. The writing and reviewing parts, in particular, emphasised to me just how much time RPGs devote to fighting, or investigating grizzly deaths, and I started to feel rather down about it. I also had some interesting conversations with Dan about other types of genre and gameplay, which helped revive my interest.

What about characters?

The (silly) conceit of Into Ploughshares is an attempt to more-or-less directly map a combat-free pastoral narrative onto stereotypical traditional dungeon crawl mechanics. And that means character classes with distinct roles. I actually think this might work fairly well.

The idea that's come to mind is that, just as seasons (and their challenges) will map onto dungeons (and their rooms), individual challenges will map onto combats. Some will be unavoidable - winter descends on you inevitably, just as the minotaur hunts you down in its labyrinth. Others are optional challenges that can bring some benefit - destroying the undead guards in the vault will get you loot, forging a road through the forest will open up trade routes and speed communications.

Obviously, "fighting" a challenge means a damage system is needed, and the idea that comes to mind is Work Points.

Any given Challenge has, amongst other things, a pool of Work Points. This is a crude representation of how much effort will be needed to overcome the Challenge. Digging a privy requires relatively little effort and has few Work Points. Building an irrigation system for enough farmland to feed a village requires a lot more effort.

The first class we need, then, is naturally the fighter-analogue. Um... possibly. In our case, we have the Labourer. A Labourer is a pretty simple class with minimal special abilities. Where they shine is in plodding away at hard work. A Labourer has a high average Work output and is pretty reliable. They take on the lion's share of labour, freeing up other party members to handle fiddly stuff. In contrast, the other classes have more specialised roles that depend on application to be effective.

What about PCs, though? Most challenges aren't exactly damaging them, but PC Work Points would make no sense at all.

Dungeon crawls feature enemies that injure you, but often you're the one making decisions about pacing. I feel like season challenges need to work a bit different. Essentially, the challenge of pastoralism lies in whether you can overcome a challenge with the resources you have in the time available. This means a lot of challenges will tend to be on a schedule, with PCs only having a certain amount of time to deal with them.

In this case, I'm inclined to say that the obvious option is Fatigue. A PC's "attacks" indicate how much they manage to accomplish, but a challenge's "attacks" indicate how much the character's reserves are depleted by their efforts. This isn't the only option, though. A storm might damage infrastructure, so the challenge is to cope with it as quickly as possible to minimise the harm it does (PC "attacks" here will indicate taking precautions, minimising damage, repairing and so on).

The classic rogue/thief mechanics create a character who's good at sneaking around to find out the lay of the land and predict challenges. They can also deal with unexpected hazards (disarm traps), acquire unexpected benefits (theft) and position themselves to dish out heavy Hit Point damage, providing they can make the right setup rolls. How would we parallel that?

Clearly, we're looking at a Scholar.

The Scholar relies on some kind of theoretical roll to metaphorically 'navigate' the season, interpreting and predicting challenges and opportunities. They can find and deal with unexpected hazards (test of ingenuity or knowledge), acquire unexpected benefits (inspiration), and position themselves to deal heavy Work damage by application of theory to do a lot with a little.

Into Ploughshares: Seasons as Dungeons

I think the most logical way to handle things in Into Ploughshares – bearing in mind that I’m deliberately trying to map pastoralism onto traditional adventuring – is to have a season correspond to a dungeon adventure as the most basic model.

A dungeon adventure is typically broken up into both phases and sections:

1. Learning about the dungeon (rumours, research, clues). Perhaps better if we swap “dungeon” for “problem, situation or opportunity”.
2. Preparation (shopping, gathering, crafting, planning, training)
3. Travelling to the dungeon (navigation, survival, random encounters)
4. Investigating the dungeon before entering (surveillance, tracking, divination, evaluation)
5. Dungeoneering
6. Returning from the dungeon with news, loot or captives (navigation, survival, random encounters)
7. Aftermath (celebrating, shopping, punishment, turning in quests, healing and repair, planning)

The dungeoneering phase is typically the meat of the adventure, and within this section adventurers will explore numerous individual rooms or sections, with activities like:

1. Searching
2. Fighting (multiple rounds of combat)
3. Dealing with traps
4. Looting
5. Negotiating with NPCs
6. Healing and recovery

Following this model, a season adventure might work something like this:

1. Learning – a bit tricky, but we can recast “dungeon” as “situation” and this makes sense. If we have wandering pastoralists in the wandering adventurer mould, this can work. They learn about a settlement that has problems (rumours, research, clues).
2. Preparation (shopping, gathering, crafting, planning, training)
3. Travelling
4. Investigating
5. Pastoralising (most of what you do)
6. Returning
7. Aftermath (celebrating, shopping, turning in quests, recovery and repair, planning)

The pastoralising phase, the bulk of the adventure, splits up into numerous “rooms”. Rather than physical rooms, these are discrete-but-related situations that can be dealt with. It’s important to note that in most cases, a season adventure should not be built around an escalating challenge that must be overcome sequentially – this is not how most dungeons work. Instead, there are numerous self-contained situations that offer challenge and opportunity.

Let’s think about dungeons again. In some cases the main quest may be to kill everything in a dungeon and defeat its overlord. In other cases, there’s one objective to meet, but many obstacles to overcome (in whatever way you choose) along the way. Still other times, there is no particular objective other than to explore and see what’s interesting. The objectives of the characters may not match the quest given to them, either – PCs have their own motivations and opinions. Sometimes defeating one enemy, or disabling a substantial trap, will make another combat easier; in other cases your decisions may determine how other dungeon residents react to you (do you side with the goblins or the gnomes, or neither?).

Mirroring this, in a season adventure, the main quest might be to deal with a whole series of problems of escalating severity. However, this shoud not be a series of hardships that happen to the characters and must be survived. A dungeon adventure doesn’t consist of a stream of monsters of increasing Challenge Rating advancing on the PCs. Rather, we should present a number of problems that the PCs are asked (or recommended, or able) to address, some of which may depend on resolving other problems first. Some problems may interrelate, so that solving one makes it easier to solve another, or alters the range of options. In other cases, valuable resources need to be focused on one problem or another, so difficult choices may be needed. PCs might decide to leave some problems or opportunities untackled, deciding they’re not worth the effort.

Into Ploughshares

"True heroism is remarkably sober, very undramatic. It is not the urge to surpass all others at whatever cost, but the urge to serve others at whatever cost." - Arthur Ashe

The Setting

The vast and ancient Haverlakes are a realm of strife. Bandits and murderers stalk the land, preying on travellers. Monstrous beings scuttle forth from abyssal caves to stalk the land. Foul sorcerers enslave whole counties to build monuments to their glory. Ancient ruins hold treasure and menace alike.

The folk of the Haverlakes are stout and fierce, skilled in the arts of blade and spell. Hardy bands roam the lands, battling goblins and demons, putting down the undead, or searching the vast and crumbling ruins that mysteriously dot the land. There is not one amongst them who is not a warrior of renown. They do not know peace.

For aeons, the Haverlakes have been sustained by the blessing of Fraig, spirit of plenty. Bushes and trees burst with fruit ripe for the plucking, and fish hurled themselves onto every hook casually offered. A heroine forging her path through the Toothed Woods could barely cast a spear without hitting a fatted rabbit, unless a bear, manticore, wood elemental, chitter-demon or bandit interposed itself. Huge and riotous taverns were built upon springs where wine and ale poured forth from the very ground. Firewood sprouted abundantly wherever it might be needed. Rich robes, fine swords and golden chalices were carried triumphantly forth from underground cities, or torn from the bodies of fallen foes. Life was not one of toil, but one of adventure.

And now, the power of Fraig is fading from the land. The simple warriors and wizards of the land are helpless in the face of threats they never anticipated: starvation, cold, pestilence. Only a few gifted folk have the power to save them. The Haverlakes must know... work.

The Spiel

How many novels have you read where, in a world of humble farmers, a simple lad is called upon to set aside the plough, learn the way of the sword and battle evils given physical form, that the rest of the world might be safe?

In a world of battling heroes and villains, a small band is called upon to abandon their warlike ways and take up the only skills that can save their people: pastoralism.

Learn unique and amazing skills like Sowing, Harvesting and Preservation In Salt! Master the lost and secret arts of Animal Husbandry! Build imposing shelters that will protect your people from storms, cold and pestilent vermin too small for any warrior to fight!

Do you have what it takes to be a hero?