Wednesday, 2 April 2014

Monitors: you win, Dan, you win

So after not inconsiderable thought (as John Major might have said, if he designed RPGs) I have decided to move Monitors over to a dicepool system.

Initial thoughts for the system are as follows:

  • D6-based.
  • Each point of Attribute lets you roll one die.
  • Traits may grant additional dice.
  • Lingering effects may grant or remove dice.
  • Penalty dice remain in use. They are rolled at the beginning of the turn as previously. If the die hits or exceeds the target number, it negates one success on all relevant tasks this turn; on a roll of 1 the effect dissipates and the penalty is removed. Die size varies, so a 1d4 penalty is mild, but a 1d12 penalty is likely to hit hard and often.
  • If you have an appropriate Skill, you gain one automatic success.
  • More difficult tasks require more successes.

Because Skill grants an automatic success, a skilled character will automatically succeed at simple tasks. They will also be much more likely to succeed at more challenging tasks, since they need to roll fewer successes. This system seems preferable to allowing rerolls or changing target numbers, either of which would increase the chance of success but still allows a chance of abject failure - with this system there's only so badly an expert can do. It's also simple, which is a big factor.

Opposed rolls work in the same way - roll Attribute plus relevant traits, highest score wins. On a tie, a skilled character wins. If there's no skill discrepancy, break the tie however you like unless a tie seems appropriate.

The question is, what target number do we use, and how big an Attribute pool? I did some calculations.

I get the feeling that the sweet spot for this system might be target 3+, 3 dice and 2 successes as the default "moderate skill, average difficulty" challenge. This would give a 75% chance of success - not what I'd pick for a crunchy game, but it seems appropriate in a cheery adventure game of highly competent professionals. A better attribute or having training offers a very high chance of overall success, while even someone with a low attribute has a 45% chance of success on normal challenges. Meanwhile, simple challenges are only an issue for the least competent (67% with a single Attribute and no training). The low target number means difficult scales fairly sharply (which multiple successes always does) but maintains at least a bit of a curve; compared to even the 4+ probabilities there's far less of a gulf.

In this case, we could reasonably assume that Attributes go from 1-5, but Monitors (due to exacting recruitment rules) can't have any lower than 2. This immediately offers the possibility of NPCs just being bad at things and getting shown up. There might be the odd Monitor PC with an Attribute of 2, but in most cases they'll be at least a little higher. On the other hand, training continues to be relevant whatever your Attributes are; on an average task an Attribute 5 PC will fail one time in twenty, while a trained Attribute 5 PC will fail less than one time in two hundred. I would expect dicepools to generally cap out at 8 (Attribute 5 + 2 traits + assistance).

Difficulties will go up several steps but down only one. Most die rolls should require 2 successes or more, but the Easy 1 success roll is there for when failure might be interesting and/or diepools are very small. Anything particularly easy just works. Harder tasks are much more interesting, because they let you highlight the competence and heroism of your arcane cyber-lizard by doing things that are really freakin' hard.

Tuesday, 1 April 2014

FATE Core reading review

After my earlier encounter with FATE Accelerated Edition at Arthur's behest, I retained enough enthusiasm for the system to buy the FATE Core book. So here's a bit of a review.

Overview

FATE Core is exactly that, a set of mechanics and advice for running FATE games. What it isn’t is a game in itself; there is no default setting, pregen characters or list of NPCs. That’s not a criticism, just an observation. As a book of primarily mechanics, it can feel quite dense for its size, even though the mechanics being described are relatively simple and don’t bog down into lists and numbers that need memorising.

FATE works differently enough from other RPGs I’ve tried that I had to read quite a long way through the book before I felt like I had a reasonable grip on the core of the game, which are the interaction between Aspects, actions and the flow of the game, and the FATE Point economy that sees players selling trouble and complication for bonuses to call in later. I still need to reread it to get a better handle on things, but for now I’m reasonably happy.

Something this book does well is examples. This is a stark contrast to the FAE, which does provide examples but not in a very coherent way. With FAE, I felt like each example was disconnected both from every other example and from the actual mechanics they were illustrating. To quote myself:

I’m sure that it would have been much easier to get my head around character generation if they had, y’know, actually generated a character: start with a High Concept, add Aspects and Stunts, and carry them through to a finished playable character who could be used in rule examples.

And that's what FATE Core does. Here, the examples are a strong thread that runs throughout the book from start to finish, with three characters being first created (alongside designing their campaign world), then brought up repeatedly whenever a point needs illustrating. This allows you to not only see what a character might look like, but the in-play implications of those decisions. They have also wrapped these in a game context, so that the thought process of both players and GM is explained, helping you understand why particular decisions are made, and therefore get a better grasp on the rule system. Moreover, there's as much attention paid to the narrative side of the characters as their mechanics, which makes it easy to see how character concepts and roleplaying decisions would tie in with the crunch.

All of our rules examples in this book refer to the same example game and setting. The name is Hearts of Steel, a tongue-in-cheek fantasy romp about a group of troubleshooters for hire. They traipse about the countryside and get into trouble at the behest of the various petty kings and fief lords who hire them ... Check out Game creation to see how this game came about. We’ve included character sheets for the example PCs at the end of the book.

Aspects are central to FATE, and this book does a much better job than the FAE at explaining them, in particular in highlighting how to build a good aspect, and showing that through examples throughout the book. There are specific examples of bad or weak aspects, and why they're bad. Let's compare and contrast FAE and FATE Core for a minute.

FAE

This is a single phrase or sentence that neatly sums up your character, saying who you are, what you do, what your “deal” is.

Suggested High Concepts

  • Feline Captain of Cirrus Skimmer
  • Suncaller of the Andral Desert
  • Chief Field Agent of IGEMA

FATE Core

Your high concept is a phrase that sums up what your character is about—who he is and what he does. It’s an aspect, one of the first and most important ones for your character. Think of this aspect like your job, your role in life, or your calling—it’s what you’re good at, but it’s also a duty you have to deal with, and it’s constantly filled with problems of its own. That is to say, it comes with some good and some bad.

Suggested High Concepts

  • Despicable Regent of Riverton, Reluctant Lead Detective, Ambitious Low-level Thug.
  • Wizard Private Eye, Singing Knight of the Round Table, Monster-slaying Accountant.
  • Black Sheep of the Thompson Family, Low-level Thug for the Syndicate, Scar Triad’s Patsy in Riverton.

Two things really stand out for me here. The first is that the FAE High Concepts, as I noted at the time, do a pretty poor job of summing up your character and what you do. You need to already know what the descriptions mean before they mean anything to you.

The second is that the FAE suggestions offer very little in the way of opportunities to invoke the Aspect either for good or bad, but least of all for bad. This is a problem because you need to get your aspects invoked by the GM to earn you FATE points. An Aspect that won't get invoked is dead weight.

Here's a quick selection of FATE Core's specific discussion on Aspects.

Troubles also shouldn’t be directly related to your high concept—if you have Lead Detective, saying your trouble is The Criminal Underworld Hates Me is a dull trouble, because we already assume that with your high concept.

Lenny’s The Manners of a Goat could be used to the group’s benefit. Maybe he turns that up intentionally, to draw attention away from Lily’s character sneaking around.

Let’s look at an aspect like Computer Genius. The benefits of having this aspect are pretty obvious—any time you’re hacking or working with technology, you could justify invoking it. But it doesn’t seem like there’s a lot of room for that aspect to work against you. So, let’s think of a way we can spice that up a bit. What if we change that aspect to Nerdy McNerdson? That still carries the connotations that would allow you to take advantage of it while working with computers, but it adds a downside—you’re awkward around people. This might mean that you could accept compels to mangle a social situation, or someone might invoke your aspect when a fascinating piece of equipment distracts you.

Let’s look at a simple aspect that a soldier might have: I Must Prove Myself... That’ll work for a bit, but eventually this aspect will run out of steam. It says just one thing about the character. Either you’re trying to prove yourself, or this aspect isn’t going to come up. Now tie that aspect in with a relationship to an organization: The Legion Demands I Prove Myself. Your options open up a great deal.

Let’s look at Memories, Wishes, and Regrets. There’s something evocative about the phrase. It suggests a kind of melancholy about the past. But as an aspect, I don’t really know what it’s supposed to do.

You don’t want all your aspects to describe the same kind of thing. Five relationships means that you can’t use your aspects unless one of them is in play, but five personality traits means that you have no connection to the game world.

Aspects which don’t help you tell a good story (by giving you success when you need it and by drawing you into danger and action when the story needs it) aren’t doing their job. The aspects which push you into conflict—and help you excel once you’re there—will be among your best and most-used.

Aspects need to be both useful and dangerous—allowing you to help shape the story and generating lots of FATE points—and they should never be boring. The best aspect suggests both ways to use it and ways it can complicate your situation. Aspects that cannot be used for either of those are likely to be dull indeed.

All of this information seems really helpful in guiding you to set up Aspects that are meaningful and mechanically helpful. Because Aspects are the core of the system, and because they are entirely player-generated (rather than pregenerated like PC features in many games) it's very important that players and GMs understand how to make them work well.

Character Generation

FATE Core begins with world creation, rather than chargen. This seems like a sensible step given how the game works, since without a solid game to play in, it'll be hard to create appropriate Aspects and Skills to use. You set up a genre, setting, world and some important places and characters. These help inspire the players and GM alike. The book talks a lot about the importance of character generation, and I was pleased with it. They explain that chargen is really part of the actual game, emphasise the idea that chargen should itself set up the next arc of the story, and take a firmly collaborative view of chargen.

As with game creation, character creation is best done as a group activity. Doing all of this together builds a strong foundation of communication between the players and GM, and this process has a number of ways to establish connections between the characters and the setting.

There's also some solid advice for making usable characters that can contribute to a collaborative game.

You must figure out why your character is going to keep getting involved in these more dangerous things. If you don’t, the GM is under no obligation to go out of her way to make the game work for you—she’ll be too busy with other players who made characters that have a reason to participate.

The FATE system does seem to lend itself to quite logical character generation through the straightforward Aspects system, but the FATE Core breakdown into non-mechanical types is a big help. Essentially, you're recommended to create a High Concept (who your character is), then a Trouble (something that complicates your life), then one or more Aspects based on backstory you invent with the other players. These leave you with Aspects that are likely to be quite disparate, meaning they're likely to be relevant in different situations. It's also quite a decent narrative basis for a character. Skills are fairly intuitive once those elements are in place, and Stunts arise easily from the combination of those two. I feel like this is really a pretty slick process, once you understand how the game works. However, an understanding of Aspects is absolutely crucial to it, in terms of getting a mechanically effective character, but also simply in order to understand what you're doing.

Stunts were another source of confusion in FAE. I feel like the FATE Core system is once again better. A lot of this can be put down to the substantial pagetime given to it in the whole rulebook (and again, I didn't actually read the detail sections in FAE), but even the chargen summary makes more sense. I think the main difference here is in the wording.

FAE:

Because I [describe some way that you are exceptional, have a cool bit of gear, or are otherwise awesome], I get a +2 when I [pick one: Carefully, Cleverly, Flashily, Forcefully, Quickly, Sneakily] [pick one: attack defend, create advantages, overcome] when [describe a circumstance].

FATE Core refers you to the main Stunts chapter, but includes a passing example:

Lily decides to take the Warmaster stunt as one of her freebies: +2 to Fight rolls made to create an advantage against an opponent, provided the opponent has a fighting style or weakness she can exploit.

I don't know about you, or indeed a non-gamer, but for me, that's far easier to parse. It's a familiar mechanic, and the explicit use of a skill feels clearer than the pseudo-skills referenced in FAE.

Layout

Sidebars are frequent but not overwhelming. Sidebars all seem to be mainly friendly tips or overviews, rather than alternate rules. I'm pleased about that, because having a book where houserules are scattered throughout can be confusing, as well as giving a sense of inconsistency, or lack of confidence. While there are some rulebars, these typically just state that the rules given are not writ in stone, and encourage experimenation. This helps maintain the sense of a friendly, forgiving ruleset, without overwhelming the would-be GM with choices about optional rules. Some of the bars explain points that might confuse players of earlier versions, like removal of jargon (I approve) or tweaks to mechanics; there's also a quick Veterans Guide in the back listing the main changes, which seems like a good approach.

Visually, there are very strong distinctions between the main rules, the sidebars and the play examples. Headings are stark and obvious, and the text is very clear, with crisp font unmuddled by backgrounds or fiddliness. There are frequent, characterful illustrations that don't interfere with the text. This is all good stuff.

Each page features obvious page numbers, a chapter number and a margin bar that indicates its contents ("Character Creation" and so on). Between these, the obvious headers and the solid-seeming contents list and index, navigation is pretty simple. I suspect the index could probably usefully be a bit longer, but that's nearly always true.

A Cheat Sheet covers the main rules quickly and efficiently. There are page numbers for further explanation.

Something I particularly appreciate is the vast number of cross-references. These are sprayed liberally through the book, usually several to a page. Generally I think it's very hard to overdo these, because rules checking can be such a drag on the game that anything to speed it up is a boon. It's also handy if the order of the rulebook happens not to quite suit you when you start reading, as you can easily flick forward to get more detail.

Nice Touches

The game does a good job of explaining their philosophy, and what games FATE is suited to, in a few simple paragraphs. They outline three points, and then explain what each of these means in terms of "this is" and "this isn't"s. A couple of extracts:

The very best FATE games, however, have certain ideas in common with one another, which we think best showcase what the game is designed to do. Whether you’re talking about fantasy, science fiction, superheroes, or gritty cop shows, FATE works best when you use it to tell stories about people who are proactive, competent, and dramatic.

[from the Drama section] Any FATE game that you play should provide the potential and opportunity for drama among and between the characters, and give you a chance to relate to them as people. A game about adventurers mindlessly punching increasing numbers of bigger, badder bad guys is not FATE. A game about adventurers struggling to lead normal lives despite being destined to fight ultimate evil is.

There's no "what is roleplaying" section as such, but the game offers a very brief introduction to what you're doing that I find pretty solid. Like any game, it has its own take. FATE Core's summary is very collaborative and sounds a lot like improv theatre. This is very slightly misleading, since in practice the GM-player structure is still in there and will restrict players' narrative control somewhat, but for such a short summary, and given the way FATE works, I think it's fine.

If you’ve never played a roleplaying game before, here’s the basic idea: you and a bunch of friends get together to tell an interactive story about a group of characters you make up. You get to say what challenges and obstacles those characters face, how they respond, what they say and do, and what happens to them. It’s not all just conversation, though—sometimes you’ll use dice and the rules in this book to bring uncertainty into the story and make things more exciting.

For GMs

An extensive section on GMing includes sensible discussion of what your responsibilities are, and how they relate to the mechanics. There's some further philosophy here - FATE clearly prioritises narrative over realism, which makes sense for the mechanics they have. There are useful pointers to minimise the burden of GMing, which is a perpetual issue; here they recommend shifting it to players, getting them to make decisions about things related to their aspects, or creating their own detail when they create advantages. There's also a broad sense that information doesn't have to be concealed from players unless there's a reason - NPC secrets are concealed in the book's examples, but players have a reasonable idea of what's going on in the campaign world. I appreciate the section entitled "You're The Chairman, Not God".

The frequent examples throughout the book also weave in antagonists and NPCs, with examples of the kinds of Aspects and Skills they might have. Appropriate power levels relative to the PCs are discussed thoroughly, which I find important because even seasoned GMs may struggle to gauge that in a new game. There is thoughtful discussion of how, as longer-term games progress, the relationship between PCs and specific NPCs should change, and the distinction between static NPCs, who don't advance but show how the PCs have grown over time, and dynamic NPCs, who advance alongside them and remain relevant. An adversary who was once formidable but now presents no threat, or a mentor you have surpassed, are strong narrative devices. They also cover how to model developments in the gameworld, with PCs' Aspects changing to reflect their experiences, but also changing the Aspects of the world, organisations and NPCs around them.

Have the PCs resolved an issue in a location? Get rid of the aspect, or maybe change it to represent how the issue was resolved (In the Shadow of the Necromancer becomes Memories of Tyranny, for example).

The usual discussions of setting up scenarios, arcs and entire campaigns are there. Due to the nature of the game, there's a lot of emphasis on trying to design scenarios that tie in strongly to the PCs' Aspects, and on trying to maintain pace and drama.

Finally, there's a section on Extras - adding new features to the game using the same Aspects model that works for everything.

Personally, I can't help thinking of FATE as being basically like Python the RPG, but this may not be universally helpful.

Extras suggest ways to add in magic, superpowers, cybernetics, powerful organisations or detailed weapon rules with accompanying mechanics. The main example shows how adding a Magic extra could create new uses for skills and new ways of doing things, but there are also discussions of adding Wealth and Media extras that let you engage in financial combat for a highly political game, or adding vessels as an Extra with their own Aspects. I particularly appreciated the latter, because it stretches the range of the game and suggests options for doing things outside the action-adventure genre it favours. It's worth bearing in mind, though, that you don't necessarily need to add Extras in order to include things - you could decide to handle magic with the normal action rules, simply flavouring your actions with magic rather than might.

Drawbacks

For what it contains, the FATE Core ruleset can seem pretty bulky. A lot of this can be put down to the illustrations, examples and sidebars that appear on virtually every page. The text is also large and clear, easy to read but taking up a bit more space than average. The examples are great, the sidebars helpful and the illustrations pretty and full of character that I'd be reluctant to lose. That being said, it would be possible to make a version half the size without much loss of content. Would it get bought? I suspect not, since prettiness is one reason to choose a hard copy over a PDF. However, a shorter version of the PDF could well be well-received, as it would make using it at the table easier. Presumably the size and illustrations also contributed significantly to the £30 cost of the books, but that's the way it is.

Another point worth bearing in mind is that, as mentioned earlier, the book contains absolutely no default setting. There are no locations, no goings-on, a handful of NPCs tied into the example game, and no monsters. This does leave things completely open for the group, but also means that unless you really want to be doing everything from scratch, you're going to be looking out for other materials. Even if you want the fun of creating your own world and setting, being able to drop in workable critters or characters that someone else has written up can be a great asset to speed up play, or simply as a source of inspiration.

Personally speaking, I've already bought a couple of PDF supplements (Worlds on Fire and Worlds in Shadow) just to try and get a better handle on the grain of the system, and what can be done with it. I'm a bit sorry that there don't seem to be any very basic FATE settings freely available to play around with - even a couple of pages would be handy for trying things out.

On the whole, though, I am very happy with the book and excited about trying it out.

Sunday, 30 March 2014

Utilities: Tyler's Timetracker weather and travel tool

After my earlier post about weather, reader Tyler Durden mentioned having created a tool that generates climate-appropriate weather for campaign worlds, including their effects on travel times. He was kind enough to offer to share it (and also translate it from Italian for the Anglophone readership) and you can find the link here.

There's a readme file with the tool, which covers how to use it; you really want to play around with it a bit to make sense of it, though. I do a fair bit of work in Excel myself, so I have some idea of the enormous effort that's gone into making this.

Okay, who's this good for? Primarily I'd say it's useful if you're doing games based on a fairly concrete map (either traditional hex-based, or just with a good sense of how places relate and their terrain type), and would like to include weather that doesn't depend on the GM's imagination and grasp of meteorology. This tool is neutral and systematic, but should produce consistent and believable weather. If your group doesn't want to be dependent on GMs making decisions, it should be an asset. It's not just about the weather; a map-based campaign typically involves a lot of travelling, and knowing how weather conditions will affect travel and hazards is a big help. Sandboxy old-school campaigns ought to like this.

More broadly, it should also be helpful to any game that wants to include weather for a touch of realism, helping to give a sense of place; this will be particularly the case if your game skips around between mountain, forest and seaside. Even if you'd prefer not to model travel in detail, you could use the tool's calculations to inform descriptions and narration. It might also throw in unexpected twists that inspire new opportunities - seeking shelter from a rainstorm, say, or needing extra water during an unseasonal heatwave.

Actually, this would also be a great asset to budding fantasy authors who want to feature the classic travelogue segments. No more worrying about plot holes and inconsistencies, just use the obligatory front-inside-cover map with this tool to calculate all your journeys!

I've only really had time to tinker with it a bit so far, but hope it will be useful to others who might read the blog and appreciate Tyler's hard work.

Wednesday, 26 March 2014

Monitors: re-examining aims of the system

Time to re-examine the ruleset in a slightly different angle. What is it I’m trying to achieve?

  • A fairly lightweight game
  • Mechanics to reinforce the sense of being a reptile
  • Different species feel different
  • More broadly, reinforce the feeling of being a cyborg reptile space wizard secret agent
  • Designed to support a variety of secret agent activities, not just for combat
  • Quick, fairly pulpy combat
  • Competent PCs who excel in particular areas

At the moment, what have we got?

I’m fairly happy with the Heat Points model. Ambient temperature is important, characters have to consider gear and activities in terms of temperature, and it highlights some differences between herps and pretty much all RPG characters ever. It also lets you turn this consideration into an advantage, not just another thing to micro-manage.

I think at the moment species are perhaps too specifically defined. Instead, I might just suggest you pick one major and one minor lineage trait that are particularly important to your character, and these grant you benefits. Other traits aren’t necessarily absent, they just aren’t game-mechanically relevant. I do want to try and ensure that these traits feel significant.

For supporting different activities, I feel like there are three main approaches. One is to have extremely basic mechanics, so that everything is done on a small pool of abilities, or indeed without any stats at all. The second is to have relatively detailed mechanics for all the desired activities, so that all of them can be modelled interestingly without getting repetitive, and none of them are handwaved with a single die roll. The third, my current approach, is to mix-and-match sets of abilities, so that within any activity there will be a range of different abilities coming into play depending what you actually do. I’m hopeful this will prevent the tendency to veer towards either combat, as the most mechanically interesting, or freeform gaming that relies on player ability rather than PC.

Pulpy combat... well, characters can’t die from game mechanics and recover rapidly. Weapons are assumed to be powerful, so it’s just about hits and armour at the moment – and I’m seriously considering paring this back even further, perhaps just having two or three classes of armour (Light, Heavy and maybe Medium), which would make it lighter. Competence plus powerful weapons should equal fast combat. This should help prevent it dominating play.

Magic has its own system that will (hopefully) make magic feel like a Thing. I'm hoping to evoke cyborghood through pervasion rather than lots of mechanics, and aim to model upgrades as reliable slick effects, to contrast with esoteric magic (magic may need to get even more esoteric, but we'll see). There's only so much evoking you can do with mechanics; the setting and the playstyle will need to handle a lot of that.

Core mechanics

As ever, I’m drawn back to the issue of core mechanics. This is mostly because I am phenomenally indecisive, but also because any system is going to have benefits and drawbacks.

Single die rolls are simple, but are best for modelling highly random events where the outcome isn’t a bell curve, like where many factors complicate the outcome. They work well with modifiers, and providing degree of success isn’t important, this combination can readily represent competence that provides a baseline skill.

Dicepools are good for modelling things that it’s satisfactory to model as a bell curve. This is good for ensuring characters are consistently competent (or incompetent) at things. It's more difficult to intuit your odds of success with a dicepool, due to the increased complexity, but a basic roll-and-pick system is simpler to actually do than roll-and-add single die. Designing dicepools is (to my eyes) complicated because of that same complexity, which makes running calculations in Excel a pain. While the chance of improbable failure/success is reduced by that tendency to the mean, it's not prevented, so extreme rolls are still possible. Variance also tends to increase with skill, which can be unwelcome, though some models avoid this.

The current system is still d20 blackjack with modifiers. Difficulty, special skills and any other relevant factor are represented by modifiers. These may make success assured (attribute reaches 20) or impossible (attribute reaches 0). As modifiers are 2 or 5, the maths is relatively simple. The penalty die system means any roll that's less than the penalty die score is a failure if that impairment would hamper that task.

A second possibility is a dicepool. There are many dicepool models: variable/fixed target number, any/multiple successes, fixed/variable die size, count/sum, and so on. Far more than I can easily begin to evaluate, to be honest.

My inclination with dicepools would be to have fixed target numbers (keeping maths simple) and track difficulty by number of successes needed. Training could be represented by granting an automatic success, so professionals would succeed at even non-trivial tasks without rolling - only quite tricky ones would call for a roll. Other factors could be represented by granting additional dice. Penalty dice... I dunno. With small penalty dice you could discount successes equal to the number rolled, but that gets brutal fast.

I'm also a little bit cautious of how easily dicepools seem to render targets impossible. A modifier-free system doesn't easily handle auto-success, but if you don't have enough dice, you can't reach a target. This can happen in most systems, it's just something I want to keep an eye on. On a related note, I'd want to adjust the scope of attributes, since rolling 10 dice is both highly variable and a bit faffy - we'd probably want them to top out at about 5.

Tuesday, 25 March 2014

Why no FATE Actual Play?

Following on from my look at the Accelerated Edition, I've bought and (eventually) read through FATE Core. It's surprisingly dense, at least in terms of what I expected. I suppose being roughly A5-sized I mentally pegged it as a small book, whereas it's actually got about as much content in it as the average D&D rulebook. On top of that, this one is entirely 100% mechanics, which increases its relative density. There's no monsters, settings or spell lists in here that can be skimmed, only a great deal of system, all of which is important in trying to get your head round how this stuff works.

Lest that sound critical, I should say that although it wasn't a light read, I found it very interesting and rather well-presented. I might do a better overview of the book some other time, as it's now after 11pm and I should get to bed. Anyway, it was enticing enough that I'm considering trying to run it, which is about all a game can hope for.

Okay, strictly speaking a game could hope to fill me with wild and uncontrollable enthusiasm, but since I already have a large list of Games To Run, a gaming circle with highly incompatible timetables and too many hobbies, you'd have to be something pretty damn special.

And so I turn to my automatic port of call for wanting to run a game: Actual Play podcasts. Short of playing one, there's nothing like sitting in on someone else's game session to get a feel for at least one way a game might work. Ideally, several perspectives are nice. There's a huge difference between having read the rules for invoking mana burns, and feeling comfortable making on-the-fly rulings when your PCs decide to stick their hand in a dimensional vortex.

Could I find any? Like hell. Same as last time I tried. For all the attention it gets, there is an incomprehensible dearth of podcastery. I think I saw two Youtube channels referred to; now, with respect, while I am entirely on board with the notion of listening to a bunch of nerds I never met pretend to be talking mouse paladins when I am doing the dishes or running in the middle of nowhere during a blizzard through lack of basic common sense, few things are less compelling than the prospect of watching people play RPGs. And this is to say nothing of the fact that videos tie you to a screen, wasting valuable time rather than occupying my mind during boring activities. This is the exact opposite of what podcasts are for. The same thought confronts me whenever I encounter, say, review channels where someone talks into a camera for half an hour. Just... why?

Ahem.

ANYWAY. There were also references to a couple of FATE-based Dresden Files games, where "Actual Play" was understood to mean "talking about a game what we played previously, with observations", a genre I would generally summarise as "not Actual Play". This is the equivalent of offering World Cup Matches Live! and then screening Steven Gerrard reminiscing about the game for twenty minutes. The word "review" would seem eminently appropriate.

So, abject failure one again. It's looking increasingly like I need to run some FATE just so I can make my own podcast and stick it online for everyone else to listen to. Bizarre.

Sunday, 23 March 2014

Call of Cthulhu actual play: On Silent Wings

A few days ago, a few of us got together to play some games, and K was suddenly seized with inspiration for an occult scenario. So we ended up playing an impromptu Call of Cthulhu-system (but non-Mythos) game on the back of about five minutes of prep. And of course, I recorded it. This is admittedly not really traditional Call of Cthulhu fare, but something quiet and investigatey is fun sometimes.

This recording is in only two parts, the start and the end.

The rest of this post is all spoilers, so listen first if you care about that. There's some good unexpected stuff in the plot.

Cathedral and avenue Winchester England

Chargen is one of the things that I really like about Call of Cthulhu, both in its erraticness, and how quickly you can do it if you're familiar with the system. Dan expressed some concern about how long chargen would take, and I assured him you could do it in five minutes. Okay, that's a slight exaggeration, but in fact it took us about ten despite the fact we didn't have any character sheets and only brought in a single rulebook between us, several minutes into the process. Remembering and allocating skills, and settling on character concepts, was the bulk of the time.

This was a really fun session, and I'm really impressed with how K came up with something so fun in such a short time. It was nicely different from the usual Cthulhoid fare, pleasingly weird to investigate, and yet fundamentally quite simple.

It's maybe worth noting that (as far as I know) none of us had come up with the explanation until we uncovered that vital clue in the library. I thought the Cobalt Satyr was some kind of supernatural butterfly that he had, in fact, eventually obtained, but had then possessed him. It was controlling him and carrying out some strange machinations that involved killing people.

Arthur, in contrast, suggested it was a human skin suit walking around filled with butterflies. They weren't trying to kill people, they wanted to take over their bodies. The two victims were actually those who had successfully resisted invasion; who knows how many butterfly-people were walking around in human skins? "Invasion of the Buttersnatchers" anyone?

The fact that we had two such disparate explanations, both of which sound like they would have been just as much fun as the actual solution, reinforces my sense that this was a solid adventure.

K had a solid idea for how to start the adventure and what kind of investigators we are, but we negotiated the details. We also collaboratively create an agency. None of us take much in the way of the classic Cthulhu skills, which turns out to be fine. There's lots of feedback between Keeper and players as we set things up, which helps her by making sure we know what we're in for, and by giving her an idea what sort of people we're interested in being. It helps us by making sure we're not making square pegs for her mystery. You'll notice that I spend a while asking a few questions about the setting premise (just how supernatural life is, the social standing of our agency), which can be really helpful in getting on the same page.

My solution to the issue was a bit brutal, and maybe I jumped the gun a bit in terms of pacing, but at the time it kind of felt like the point where actually doing something was necessary. K was a bit surprised by how much we thought about the morality aspects and how sorry we felt for the doctor, but to me that showed what a good job she'd done of portraying him. There still isn't really any solution I can think of that doesn't have some serious downsides, unless we assume the bishop has a fairly short half-life and the power would go away. Such is the way with wizards and their ilk.

Oh, and good old Peter de Roche is all real mythology.

Peterdesrochestombwinchestercathedral

Thursday, 20 March 2014

Monitors: a tangent on traits and difficulties

On the current working model for Monitors, characters use a combination of generic attributes and specific traits.

My original idea for traits was that each would provide a flat modifier to relevant attribute rolls. Dan mentioned a few concerns about this when last we met, which I will try to recall here. This post naturally presents my point of view, which I actually remember and can develop here, far more favourably than the stuff Dan said that I can't really remember.

  • It can be difficult to make modifiers reasonable. With a large modifier, traits will be all-important and nobody without a trait is likely to succeed. With smaller modifiers, someone with a trait will only succeed slightly more often than someone without it. I'm not yet sure how far I agree with these, but worth noting.
  • He also noted that with (say) a +5 training trait, there's no mechanical difference between Wits 5 + Mad Scientist (+5), and Wits 10. This is true enough, and he argued that the psychological difference is important.
  • The combination of difficulty levels and training gets tricky (is solving a differential equation easy, which a mathematician might say, or impossible, which someone without maths would say?). I was originally aiming for an objective difficulty system, but that may be problematic. In fairness, I think all difficulty systems are problematic, so it's a question of finding the least annoying one.
  • He also stated a preference for avoiding maths, which is reasonable enough but I'm less concerned about that. Doing arithmetic is a common enough aspect of games that I don't feel including it is a major drawback.
  • He thinks training should mean auto-success on routine tasks. I also think this, and attempted to design the system to ensure it, so no issue there.

Handling Light, first draft

Following a discussion on Shannon’s blog, here’s a quick stab at a chart for handling lighting modifiers.

After some brief playing around, I think there's four light properties that are probably relevant:

  1. how much light there is
  2. shadows - basically, whether it's ambient light/high light that leaves few shadows, or directional light that casts lots of deep shadows
  3. steadiness of light
  4. width of spectrum - lack of some colours reduces our ability to see properly

Lighting Modifiers

Concealment indicates the chance of a character or object going unnoticed, even without making any effort to avoid detection. Where a / is used, the first figure indicates the concealment of stationary objects, and the second that of moving objects. Very energetic or prominent motion should reduce the effect of concealment further.

Misidentify indicates the chance of a character not being recognised at a distance. This might include passing for authorised personnel in restricted sections, or being mistaken for another character expected to be present. The alert status of the watcher, the distance between them, the degree of resemblance, and whether the character’s behaviour follows expected patterns, may all modify this chance.

Light Prominence indicates whether light sources (such as LEDs, cantrips, glow-in-the-dark watches, torches, lanterns, screens, fires or sparks) are likely to attract attention.

Visual Tasks indicates the difficulty modifier applied to actions that rely heavily on vision. Some characters may be proficient at specific tasks by touch, such as typing, field-stripping weapons or picking locks.

I’m basically applying broad modifiers based on the lighting and the amount of shadow, then another fixed 10% for light sources that are particularly skewed towards one colour, and another 10% for particularly unsteady of lighting.

Concealment = Lighting + Shadow + Spectrum + Unsteady

Visual Tasks = Lighting + Spectrum + Unsteady

Misidentify = Lighting + Spectrum + Unsteady

Total Darkness

  • Concealment 100%
  • Visual Tasks -90%, or automatic failure if vision essential (reading, surgery)
  • Misidentify - characters will anticipate this and behave accordingly
  • Any Light Prominent

Deep Forest

  • Concealment 80%
  • Visual Tasks -80%, or automatic failure if vision essential (reading, surgery)
  • Misidentify - 80%
  • Any Light Prominent

Starlight

  • Concealment 70%/35%
  • Visual Tasks -50%
  • Misidentify 50%
  • Low Light Prominent, Flickering Light Prominent

Candlelight

  • Concealment 70%/35%
  • Visual Tasks -60%
  • Misidentify 60%
  • Low Light Prominent, Steady Light Prominent
  • Short range

Firelight

  • Concealment 55%/25%
  • Visual Tasks -45%
  • Misidentify 45%
  • Moderate Light Prominent, Steady Light Prominent
  • Short range

Stereotypical Tavern

  • Concealment 50%/25%
  • Visual Tasks -40%
  • Misidentify 40%
  • Low Light Prominent, Steady Light Prominent

Twilight

  • Concealment 35%/20%
  • Visual Tasks -35%
  • Misidentify 35%
  • Moderate Light Prominent, Flickering Light Prominent

Full Moon

  • Concealment 40%/20%
  • Visual Tasks -20%
  • Misidentify 20%
  • Bright Light Prominent, Flickering Light Prominent

Daylight, Modern Office Lighting

  • Very Bright Light Prominent

Dark
(50%)
Dim
(40%)
Low
(25%)
Moderate
(10%)
Bright
Minimal shadow Cloudy night Specialist lab
Museum special collections
Atmosphere restaurant
Shabby hotel
Cloudy winter
Indie hotel
High noon
Modern office
Gallery
Fast food joint
Chain hotel
Occasional shadows
(10%)
? Cloudy moon
Tavern
Twilight
Well-lit street
Victorian office
Chain pub
Cathedral
Small industry
Cheap dorm
Winter sun
Factory
Crowded Lab
Frequent shadows
(30%)
Deep forest
Haunted house
Candlelight
Starlight
Theatre
Firelight
Underpass
Mediaeval house
Moonlight
Sunrise/set
Georgian house
Full moon
Summer evening

Reflection

This is probably too detailed to be usable as an in-game chart, but hopefully is interesting as an idea.

Friday, 14 March 2014

On Whether the weather can be weathered

So Shannon has posted an article about weather in games, focusing particularly on serious disaster-type weather. It's interesting, but it's prodded my brain in a different direction, which is mundane weather. There's definitely more you could do with weather than most games seem to.

Winter campaigning mud march

A pretty big one is mood. The weather makes a huge difference to how you feel. Warm, sunny day with a faint breeze? Puts a smile on most people's faces. A cool day with a stiff wind is usually a bit unwelcome, but for a lot of adventuring situations it'll be welcome, cooling you down as you lug your own bodyweight in weaponry through the forest.

I'm inclined to think it might be interesting to apply morale modifiers for weather. Use this when considering distance travelled, social interactions, performances and other non-dangerous activities. You could use it for dangerous ones too, but players might find that a bit too much. This idea would probably work best in games that already use morale, so that weather isn't the only thing that affects it.

For example, let's take the rain.

Rain

Rain can be annoying, cold and rain is miserable, wind and cold and rain is really grim - and all those thing have a practical effect. The ground underfoot is muddy or slippery, so travelling is harder and often louder. Damp clothes cling uncomfortably and make movement awkward, and wet hair gets in your eyes. Wet ropes are nasty to handle (try undoing a tight knot on a boat rope). Cold fingers fumble, cold wet items are a pain to handle. Rest is less refreshing if you're huddling under a tree while water drips down your neck, eating cold food for want of firewood, unable to read. Loud rain and wind makes talking difficult, on top of your glumness, so journeys and activities become taciturn and lonely as you plod on.

The rain splashes surface mud back at you, and your boots (or your horse's hooves) pick up and spray mud, spattering your clothes and skin. Unexpectedly soft ground makes you stumble and slip, or leaves you six inches deep in mud. Even in town, surfaces can be damaged, water pools unexpectedly, or dodgy flagstones drench you unexpectedly. Passing cars or carts can spray you even if you were being careful, and umbrellas don't help. A galloping horse or wild animal passing nearby can spatter you with mud from head to foot.

Rain and wind can directly affect your perception, reducing visibility and blotting out sounds, but they also change your behaviour. People huddle in, keeping heads down so rain or flying debris don't get into their eyes, and focusing mostly on themselves.

Hot wet days can be just as bad. Sometimes the rain is a cooling blessing, but often it merely turns things humid. With moisture in the air, it's impossible to cool off properly. Hot damp air encourages mould. Doing anything strenuous, you rapidly get sweaty, breathless and deeply uncomfortable. Sitting still isn't as relaxing as you'd think either, and sleeping is difficult.

Changing clothes or gear tends to take longer, too. Between slippery fingers, fabrics whose friction increases as they absorb moisture, and the sheer unpleasantness of putting on wet gear, it's much more of a hassle. Maintaining weapons and armour is difficult in the wet. Reading spellbooks and preparing components is pretty challenging.

If you're staying inside, other people will have the same inclinations. Town taverns and cafes may be fuller, and those catering to travellers may have people staying longer than usual in the hope of a change. Workers may knock off early if business seems poor. Markets and other outdoor activities may be cancelled. This can be a good opportunity to make some friends or gather information. However, farmers and a few others may have extra work to do, looking after livestock or trying to plant while the ground's soft. Note that some places, such as those aimed at short-distance travellers or leisured folks, may be very empty if nobody wants to venture out. Tourist cafes fill up quickly in the rain, but parks and burger stands alike will be quiet. In less touristy places, it may only be confirmed regulars who venture into the pub or gym, and they're the best people to gossip with. People are more likely to be at home, and there'll be fewer witnesses to goings on; on the other hand, hanging around may be more suspicious. Street collectors, touts and beggars will look for shelter.

On the plus side, many insects and animals will lurk somewhere during rain. Your changes of getting bitten are much lower, even in marshland. Note, however, that very small biting insects can thrive during rain. Something for GMs to play with, perhaps.

Suggestions

  • Consider changing random encounters and environmental hazards. Fewer mosquitos and stirges, but more flooded roads, overturned cars, stuck wagons and so on.
  • Donning or doffing armour takes longer. So does making camp.
  • Any work involving ropes, fabrics or slick materials becomes more difficult.
  • Remember the cosmetic effects of rain and mud. Highlighting the dampness and dirtiness of everything will help add atmosphere, and can affect NPC interactions too. Some will be extra sympathetic and eager to help the bedraggled travellers into their warm halls; others may be put off.
  • Consider the type of location and how its inhabitants are likely to react to rain.
  • Consider whether behaviour seems appropriate for rain; if not, NPCs may take notice.
  • Impose penalties to eavesdropping, spotting skulkers, and generally noticing stuff.
  • Remember that ordinary activities, often handwaved, will be affected. Preparing spells or praying to deities is more difficult in miserable conditions, so ask for Concentration rolls to see whether casters get fewer spells. Hey, they're overpowered anyway, right?
  • If it's hot and wet, make strenuous work more difficult. It doesn't need to be more dangerous - hot and wet is probably less of an issue than cold, or hot and dry - but you get exhausted quickly.
  • Wet bowstrings, anyone? What precautions did everyone take?
  • Drying out takes time. Don't forget about the rain as soon as it stops. Even when PCs are dry, it might take days for land to dry out. In some cases, it may take weeks.

Okay, that's enough for now. Might try another weather later.

Thursday, 13 March 2014

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.

Wednesday, 12 March 2014

On variable skill resolution

So, I was doing some very tenuous rambling about skills.

For reference, "skill" here means anything that behaves roughly like a "skill" as in various major RPGs. "Attempt" means either an attempt in the traditional sense, the consumption of one arbitrary amount of resources, or an arbitrary amount of time and effort. "Roll" means whatever mechanic is used for determining the effectiveness of a skill. "Resources" include time, and this is probably the most common resource.

So last time I rambled a lot about the different kinds of situations skill use represents, and some awkwardness that results if you treat these situations as mechanically equivalent.

So, what kind of distinctions might it be useful to draw, if we're looking for skill use to roughly reflect likely outcomes in real life?

Friday, 7 March 2014

On why not all skills are created equal

I spend probably more time thinking about skills than is good for me, but this is something I touched on previously and would like to discuss a bit.

Essentially, I've been thinking that (for understandable reasons) games tend to take a one-size-fits-all approach to "skills", and that this can end with some unsatisfying results. Call of Cthulhu is my core example here, but it's not unique to that game. The same mechanics that adjudicate whether a single bullet fired from your handgun hits a crazed cultist also determine whether your attempt to eavesdrop on an hour-long conversation between two Russian spies results in a) absolute and flawless understanding of every nuance of the conversation, or b) a glazed expression and a slight headache.

There are some differences between these two situations that aren't reflected in the single d100 roll you'd typically make. One is that using a universal resolution system ironically results in widely different ways of resolving outcomes, because of the way the challenge is modelled.

Monitors: back to traits

While mulling over various things, I’ve gone back to a previous model for Monitors that I want to investigate again.

One of the niggling concerns I’ve had has been that the skill distribution doesn’t necessarily support the kind of game I want to make. While combat and direct conflict is supposed to be a significant aspect of the game, I also want there to be some depth to non-violent conflicts that troubleshooters might be sent to handle. Examples of these would be investigating serious fraud and corruption, intervening in political issues, tracking down interstellar criminals, assisting with scientific investigations, or looking into occult problems that aren’t just about demon-smashing. This is not intended to be Deathwatch for lizards. However, while I’ve got skills that help in dealing with all those situations, there’s only a couple that you’re likely to use for each given kind of situation. Investigating a complex fraud is likely to mean a lot of Bureaucracy rolls and maybe the odd bit of Parlay or Perception – unless, of course, you avoid using the actual skills that people apply to these cases, in favour of over-loading a handful of general Investigation skills.

(Not, of course, that I have any idea how to write a fraud-based scenario if I wanted to. But I’d like it to be an option that didn’t rapidly turn into a mere plot hook for another gun-based adventure)

Friday, 28 February 2014

It's the Skill of the Fight, part one

I'm supposed to be working on Monitors, but my next logical step seems to be playing with NPCs to work out a very rough way to gauge effectiveness at opposing PCs, and I don't have the energy for that. Also, particularly after some analyses of other games, I'm having second thoughts about whether the list of skills will actually promote the kind of game I'm after. So, procrastination!

For quite a while - following the post I always quote, Dan's one about Parkour Murder Simulator, and Shannon's follow-on - I've been knocking around the idea of a game where the outcome of entire combats is determined by rolling a Fight check, in just the same way that games typically resolve being sneaky, influencing NPCs or translating multi-volume works from ancient Arabic.

At the moment I'm fairly worn out and irritable, not hugely inspired by the Monitors stuff I need to do, and not feeling intellectual enough for the complicated diatribe on skills I started writing last week (pending). This feels like something a bit more logical that I should be able to work through.

Wednesday, 26 February 2014

Nassan: running Stick in the Mud

As mentioned a few months back, I've tentatively restarted our 4E campaign, which for various reasons (mostly wildly divergent schedules) has consisted of one one-shot in several months. This is precisely why I decideded to run one-shots.

A summary of the game can be found in three parts:

  1. The beginning
  2. The middle
  3. The end

Since I'm hoping to finally manage another session shortly, I wanted to have a bit of a think about the GMing side of things. Also I wanted to briefly talk about the changes I made to the scenario.

Behind the Screen

So, the game in general. On the whole I felt this went pretty well.

Our session (Stick in the Mud, from Dungeon #171) in about five hours all told, with some tea breaks and chatter, but not that much. Unfortunately, writeup not withstanding, we didn't quite have time to finish it as at least one player had to rush off, and it seemed better to narrate a wrap-up than tail off. Considering that none of us had played (or GMed) 4E for a couple of years, most hadn't gamed at all for months, and one player was new, I still think it was a respectable time given the drawn-out combats of 4E.

The players did reasonably well at remembering how things worked and the details of their characters. There was a fair amount of looking stuff up and explaining play, but that's what the GM's for in these circumstances. I was also reasonably happy with how well I remembered most things, although a few rules would bear looking up beforehand. I should really make sure to dig out (and update!) the GM screen before next session. Because of the aforesaid rustiness, and because we're a fairly casual group anyway, I was extra helpful in giving hints and advising on tactical issues. There's quite a lot to remember in tactical play, and I don't see the point in punishing players for not remembering all the details of opportunity attacks, or letting them waste dailies on a minion, especially when we're all out of practice. I'd much rather try and help them learn to play more effectively so we can all enjoy the fight, and of course the better they get, the tricksier I can get.

In the event, we were short one player. We were actually missing our ranger, who's a big damage-dealer and has the best equipment for various reasons, as well as being very analytical. However, I'd deliberately picked a low-level adventure to allow for rustiness (and because I liked it, admittedly), so on the whole the balance seemed quite decent, leaving the party badly battered and scared, but not actually in serious danger.

One player had forgotten her character sheet, which caused a bit of administrative trouble. We were able to scribble down most of the information, but it wasted some time at the start of the session and necessitated a bit of extra looking-up.

Somewhat to my surprise, the players who took part seemed quite happy to have skipped the questgiving. I think the missing player is keener on with-NPC roleplaying so I'll try to make sure there are some opportunities next time. But I feel like I judged that reasonably, which is nice.

Magic item balance

As I mentioned in the initial post, I wasn't sure where people stood with magic items. As it turned out, they were wildly unbalanced. Our previous adventure was an incomplete attempt at Keep on the Shadowfell, during which they acquired a number of magic items. As it turns out, the most powerful items they'd discovered (Bloodcut Hide Armour, an Aecris Longsword and a Vicious Short Sword) all happened to suit the same character, our ranger Varis, and the party allocated them all to him. Other characters had picked up only some plot artefacts and low-powered items. Having never finished the adventure, we never got the whole range of magical items, which might have led to a redistribution between characters, and the players were perhaps unaware of D&D's expectations about how items would be distributed (which is to say, fairly evenly). The end result was that Varis had a Level 4, a Level 5 and a Level 2 magic item, while everyone else had about 2 levels in total. I believe the expectation was that each character might have one level 4-5 item and one 2-3.

It seemed rather unfair to strip Varis of his items, and what I ended up doing was giving the others slightly more stuff than they ought to have, while not quite bringing them up to Varis' level. This was particularly true for Raylin (imported from Pathfinder) and Adrik (entirely new character). Partly as a consequence, I avoided giving out much magical loot in Stick in the Mud - they're at level 3 but actually have about as much loot as they should gain for the next level or two. So it will be stingy DMing for a while. While I did include some useful items, I carefully chose ones that aren't combat-related, which should be handy for exploring and such without unbalancing things too much.

Future notes

I think for the next session I might try and have a quick tactical recap beforehand. They were a bit hazy on their use of powers, particularly Encounters and Dailies, and somewhat reluctant to use them. I might discuss how these can be used early in a fight to get an early advantage and provide ongoing benefits, rather than kept to finish the fight once it proves to be difficult. It can be much more efficient, especially if some enemies can be eliminated early on, because fewer rounds means fewer hits.

Similarly I might have a mention of concentrating fire to take down a small number of targets, rather than spreading attacks around, because D&D just doesn't really model the suppression, intimidation or debilitation that might make it worthwhile in reality.

Finally, it might be worth talking about roles (which 4E explicitly encourages) and the idea of playing to the strengths of your role.

While the players were mildly entertained by the magic loot I'd come up with, they weren't especially interested in any of it, and decided to just flog everything off next time they were in town. That was quite a letdown, and I don't think I'll be spending much effort on that in future. It's quite fun coming up with the stuff, but if it's only ever going to get a second or two of game time, rather than anything looking for ways to use it, there's really no point. I'd spent quite a while coming up with fun stuff that was mildly useful but not Magic Item useful, and it's not really a good use of time in the circs.

The scenario

Most of the changes I made to Stick in the Mud were to adapt the scenario to my new premise.

Original premise: A long-ruined building contains the buried workshop of a powerful wizard. Bullywugs have moved into the area and begun messing with a powerful staff, opening a rift to the Elemental Chaos. Adventurers are, coincidentally, sent there on some mission or other at about the same time.

My premise: An elemental staff has been stolen from a scholarly archive. The adventurers are sent to retrieve it. The thief turns out to have meddled with it and opened a rift to the Elemental Chaos, attracting bullywugs to the area.

The changes mostly consisted of altering explanations for things. In some cases I added additional "boxed text" to better fit the situation as I pictured it. In particular, I wanted to emphasise the weird effects of proximity to a planar rift. In other cases I shifted things so that there was an explanation players could get at all, since one of my reservations about the written scenario was that most of the background wasn't realistically learnable by PCs.

A couple of examples:

The ritual chamber

The large chamber was once a ritual chamber where the temple's inhabitants would invoke the aid of their gods or summon servitors. It survived the meteor strike better than the rest of the complex, being deep and strongly-built, and its condition led Tildis to use it as a vault for her stolen treasures. A strange synergy between the malfunctioning staff and the chamber have opened a rift to the Elemental Chaos. The staff has been spewing mud from the Elemental Chaos for weeks now, and the area around the staff is a swirling mire of churning mud. Within it lurks the growing form of a mud writher, a mass of tendrils and maws whose malleable body was able to squeeze through the rift. The writher lurks within the mud around the staff, and is, for all intents and purposes, invisible to the PCs until they attack (barring lengthy observation).

This stone vault is lined with shelves holding many strange devices. Some of them even appear to be intact and might be valuable. However, your most pressing concern lies at the southern end of the room, in a small alcove, where a thick, stone staff juts out from a churning vortex of mud. The earth all around heaves and cracks, and the stone walls have sprouted into fantastical organic shapes.

Note that while I call it "boxed text", this is basically aides-memoire for me. I just tend to write in that style even when it's notes for my own use.

Treasure

Since I went to the trouble of creating them, I might as well share the treasures I invented for this scenario. Someone else might like them.

  • A large Glittergold coin, whose designs constantly shift to display myths of the gnomish deity. A Religion check (DC 10) can reveal that such coins are quite prized by the priesthood and used by initiates to memorise and teach their precepts.
  • A pack of gambler's cards, impossible to mark or crease, which will reshuffle themselves when gathed and tossed into the air, or sort themselves and return to their pack at a command. They bear the four elemental suits.
  • A reel of green seeking thread, which will fasten itself to a needle when tapped with it, and will not come untied.
  • A vanity comb, which leaves hair clean and glossy without water or soap. Once per day, it can be used to create an elegant hairstyle in mere moments, although its ideas are quite old-fashioned.
  • Flasks containing tiny amounts of highly pure elemental earth, water, fire and air. These can be used as components in any rituals, each flask providing 50gp of components.
  • Eleven small lodestones
  • A geomantic dowsing rod, which a trained practitioner can use to assess the geology and ley lines of an area.

More notable items include a belt of vigour, eternal chalk, Aldron's firebox and a floating lantern. There are several dozen mundane books recently arranged on the bookshelves, some bearing marks of ownership from various Peragian institutions. Most relate to geomancy, elementals or the natural world.

The Guildhall will also offer their support and good word. The gift of silver signet ring apiece indicates their status as friends of the Guild. The Guildhall's favour ring is lightly enchanted, providing a single use of an arcane at-will power of the owner's choice, as well as its social benefits.

Monsters

Because I wasn't very keen on the coincidence-based premise, it didn't really make sense for bullywugs to be the main problem at the site. I also felt that the fights were looking very repetitive; aside from some environmental changes (which are a very reasonably way to vary fights) they consisted of three fights in three consecutive rooms with three very similar groups of bullywugs. If, say, one had been a mass of minions and another a few very tough critters, it might have made more difference.

What I ended up doing was basically reskinning some of the bullywugs. Having emphasised the geomancy and Elemental Chaos side of things in the setup, I thought it would be nice to have more elementals in the scenario. Also, they're good for guilt-free slaughter!

Not wanting to totally replan the combats by picking entirely different creatures, I changed various keywords and descriptions while keeping many essential features the same. I was particularly pleased with the quartz strider and its light-refracting powers, which allows it to replace a spellcaster.

Originally, the scenario builds up to an encounter with four very minor elementals next to the rift. Having already introduced elementals a little earlier on, this felt a bit anticlimactic, so I instead reskinned those to be individual tendrils of a much larger elemental that had occupied the entire room and melded into the earthy floor. Unfortunately, I never got to use it as the game ended early. Alas!

I present these monsters here for any other DMs who may find them useful. All are made with Monster Maker, but I completely redid the CSS for aesthetic reasons, as described in an earlier post.

Rumbleshard Level 3 Minion
Medium Elemental Magical Beast (air, earth) XP 37
Initiative +3 Senses Perception +0
Haze (earth) aura 1; creatures within the aura gain partial concealment against ranged attacks.
HP 1; a missed attack never damages a minion.
AC 14; Fortitude 12, Reflex 14, Will 12
Resist 5 thunder
Speed 4, fly 6
M Rending Shards (Standard; at-will)
+6 vs. AC; 7 damage.
c Shatter (Standard; at-will)
Close blast 2; +4 vs. Reflex; 4 damage.
Alignment Unaligned Languages Primordial
Skills Acrobatics +6
Str 10 (+1) Dex 14 (+3) Wis 10 (+1)
Con 14 (+3) Int 6 (-1) Cha 5 (-2)

Rumbleshard Lore

A character knows the following information with a successful Arcana check.

DC 15: A rumbleshard is an elemental mass of rocky shards and air.

DC 20: A rumbleshard's whirling shards can explode into clouds of shrapnel.

DC 25: Rumbleshards' airy nature makes them resistant to thunder damage.

Mire Gulper Level 3 Controller
Medium Elemental Beast (earth, water) XP 150
Initiative +5 Senses Perception +6
HP 44; Bloodied 22
AC 18; Fortitude 15, Reflex 16, Will 13
Speed 4
M Bite (Standard; at-will)
+8 vs. AC; 1d6 + 3 damage, and a Medium or smaller target is swallowed. A swallowed target is stunned, takes ongoing 5 damage, and can't be targeted by any effect (save ends all effects). A mire gulper can have only one target swallowed at a time and cannot make bite attacks as long as the swallowed target is alive.
c Mighty Inhalation (Minor; at-will)
Ranged 3; +7 vs. Reflex; the target is pulled 2 squares.
Earthenmeld (Move; at-will)
The mire gulper shifts 4 squares by melting into the ground. It can shift through enemy squares as long as it ends its movement in an unoccupied space.
Alignment Unaligned Languages -
Skills Athletics +8, Stealth +9
Str 14 (+3) Dex 17 (+4) Wis 11 (+1)
Con 12 (+2) Int 2 (-3) Cha 6 (-1)

Mire Gulper Lore

A character knows the following information with a successful Arcana check.

DC 15: This is a mire gulper, a voracious earth and water elemental.

DC 20: The mire gulper engulfs victims to digest later, and can produce a powerful draft to drag creatures towards it.

Quartz Strider Level 3 Artillery (Leader)
Medium Elemental Beast (earth) XP 150
Initiative +2 Senses Perception +9
HP 39; Bloodied 19
AC 16; Fortitude 14, Reflex 14, Will 16
Speed 6
M Stone Claw (Standard; at-will)
+8 vs. AC; 1d8 +1 damage
c Incandescent Refraction (Standard; recharge 6) ♦ Fire, Radiant
Close blast 3; +6 vs. Reflex; 2d6 + 4 fire and radiant damage, and the target is dazed until the end of the quartz strider's next turn. Miss: Half damage
a Electric Discharge (Standard; at-will) ♦ Lightning, Thunder
Area burst 1 within 20; +6 vs. Reflex; 1d10 + 4 lightning and thunder damage.
Alignment Unaligned Languages Primordial
Str 12 (+2) Dex 14 (+3) Wis 16 (+4)
Con 15 (+3) Int 11 (+1) Cha 10 (+1)

Quartz Strider Lore

A character knows the following information with a successful Arcana check.

DC 15: This is a quartz strider, a crystalline elemental (earth)

DC 20: The quartz strider can use its body to channel energy into violent bursts.

Mud Writher Tendril Level 2 Brute
Small Elemental Magical Beast (earth, water) XP 125
Initiative +2 Senses Perception +7
HP 43; Bloodied 21
AC 14; Fortitude 15, Reflex 13, Will 13
Immune disease, poison
Speed 5
M Slam (Standard; at-will)
+5 vs. AC; 1d10 + 3 damage.
r Mud Ball (Standard; at-will)
Ranged 10; +3 vs. Reflex; the target is slowed (save ends). If the target is already slowed, it is instead immobilized (save ends).
Realignment (Immediate Reaction; encounter)
When hit by a melee attack, the tendril shifts 3 squares.
Sense Weakness
The mud writher tendril gains a +2 bonus to attack rolls against slowed or immobilized creatures.
Alignment Unaligned Languages -
Skills Stealth +7
Str 16 (+4) Dex 13 (+2) Wis 13 (+2)
Con 13 (+2) Int 6 (-1) Cha 8 (+0)

Mud Writher Lore

A character knows the following information with a successful Arcana check.

DC 15: This is a mud writher, an amorphous mass of tentacles and sucking mouths that melds into the ground (earth, water)

DC 20: The mud writher can reform itself rapidly to escape danger. It can expel clinging mud from its mouths to hamper opponents, making them more vulnerable to its attacks.

Tuesday, 25 February 2014

Nassan: what of earth?

A very, very late conclusion to this adventure! Sorry about that...

Before moving on, the party search the disintegrating remains of the study. There is little to find here but long-rotted paper and broken furnishings. However, Varis unearths a sealed brass scroll-case whose contents seem to still be intact, protected by the airtight wax from centuries of decay. A crumbling shelf yields two rune-inscribed pottery sticks that Raylin identifies as "very primitive" healing charms.

Passing carefully through another door, they find themselves in a large room with stone furnishings, where crystalline shards set into the walls cast a faint pinkish glow. At a glance, it looks like an antechamber. Bisclavret suggests it may be a preparation room, where devotees of the temple donned ritual garments (or disrobed, of course) or performed preliminary rites. The remnants of alchemical or ritual apparatus still linger on the shelves and tables. Braziers stand unlit in the corners, suggesting no bullywugs have ventured this far; however, the earthen floor is almost swamplike. That the light spells still linger is a testament to the temple's builders, but Myraneth decides the spells themselves are of little interest. A large, imposing stone door is the only route remaining; the mud appears to be gently flowing in from underneath it. The source of the planar disturbance must lie this way.

As Myraneth strides towards the door, hulking shapes stir within the thick mud deeper into the room. The shapes approach rapidly to investigate, flowing through the mud in a disquieting way. As they burst to the surface, the adventurers realise they are not simply muddy beasts, but elementals of living mire. Clearly Tildis has been meddling with the staff, and unleashed some kind of elemental magic. The creatures seem aggressive, probably protecting their territory, and conflict is unavoidable.

Facing off against two of the creatures, poor Myraneth is sucked directly into the elemental's maw, where she flails helplessly and begins to suffocate. It dives back into the swamp and retreats to finish consuming this thrashing prey in peace. Her friends rush in to try and save her, while fending off the other creature.

Meanwhile, further shapes stir into life. Whirling clouds of debris emerge to batter at Raylin as she lingers at the rear, exploding into slicing fragments before reforming. As Bisclavret and Adrik rush after Myraneth's captor, they realise a spindly thing of crystal stilts has been standing unseen like a stick insect. Faint light glows within its body, before refracting sharply into beams of searing brightness. An invocation from Raylin hammers at its alien mind, disrupting the crystals and causing it to realign into a jumbled pile, perfect for a ferocious attack from the raging dwarf.

The party manage to free Myraneth, only for Bisclavret to be seized and carried off by the remaining mire gulper. The crystalline quartz strider regains its footing, never actually moving, merely altering the alignment of its crystals to create a new form. Its energy bursts wreak havoc on the belligerent mortals, nearly killing the weakened Myraneth, as well as annihilating some of the weaker elementals. The battle is long and vicious, and when the adventurers emerge victorious, all but hardy Adrik are badly wounded. They pause to recover their breath before advancing.

Cautiously forcing open the heavy door, they find the ritual chamber, as expected. It is very dark, but an odd flickering light from the far end casts long shadows. Diases and lighting alcoves around the room are obvious signs of formal use, at least to trained eyes. Massive stone pillars hold up the roof, which was once painted brightly. Strangely, stony growths protrude from walls and pillars alike, growing stranger further in. The floor is completely covered by thick, swampy mud that heaves and cracks constantly. Myraneth and Raylin realise that a minor planar rift has been opened to the Elemental Chaos, letting elemental influences and entities alike creep through, while the arcane energies most likely attracted the bullywugs. Even without their guidance, it's obvious to all that the flickering glow is the source of their problems. The further into the room they venture, the more extreme the effects of the planar bleed on the native earth around them.

Advancing carefully towards the rift, the party are alarmed but not entirely surprised when the mire around them erupts dramatically. Writhing rocky tentacles lash out at them and slimy maws gape in the floor. To their dismay, the whole chamber seems to be occupied by a single large and angry elemental: a mud writher. Despite a barrage of cloying mud that weighs them down, the party gradually batter the creature into submission, and it retains the intelligence to ooze its way back through the portal rather than stay to be destroyed.

The party are eager to close the portal as soon as possible, before more creatures can emerge. This far into the chamber, the walls and pillars have sprouted and warped into fantastical organic shapes under the arcane radiation from the rift. They might almost be deep under the sea, or in a vast and ancient cavern. Digging through their packs for useful components, the group combine their efforts to seal the portal. With much eldritch muttering and prayerful chant, and not a little falling over in the never-ceasing flow of mud, they eventually see the wrinkle in reality fold together and vanish. The mud ceases to flow, and arcane senses no longer feel the roar of the Elemental Chaos. In its place, a large staff of solid stone clatters to the floor.

Now lit only by lanterns, the ritual chamber is in surprisingly good shape. It shows signs of recent occupation, not only by elementals, but something more familiar. The highest shelves around the walls house a number of boxes and books that are clearly not as ancient as the other items they have found. The walls themselves are almost totally covered in red chalk writing, except where decorative plaques are set into the wall. The writing is in modern Elvish, and after a few minutes of painful study, Myraneth realises they are erratic notes on a magical theory. Their author was clearly both mentally unstable and entirely wrong.

The books are a mixture of academic works and folklore, mostly touching on geomancy and the natural world. Most of them are marked with the names of various respected libraries, from where they've presumably been stolen. The boxes turn out to contain an array of magical trinkets and paraphernalia, carefully packed away to preserve them. Many are simply gaudy or pseudomagical, but some bear minor enchantments. One of these items is the stick of magical chalk used to etch Tildis' theory. Speaking of which...

Searching the room carefully, and even using some of Myraneth's lesser magics to clean away the mud, they discover a strange coccoon in one corner. Breaching it, they find the comatose and half-starved body of the wayward scholar, clutching a now-depleted protective charm. After a cursory health check and some slightly begrudging treatment, she is bound and gagged to prevent any misbehaviour. Gathering up staff, magical trinkets, Tildis and anything else that looks interesting, the party slowly make their way back to the surface, to rest up before the long journey back.

Epilogue

On returning Tildis and the staff to the Guildhalls, the group are greeting with warm thanks and reminders of the need for discretion. The staff is restored to the hands of the Archivist, who this time makes immediate arrangements for its proper storage and protection. Tildis is quickly taken away for proper treatment, and likely to endure a very long stay in one of the nearby shrines; there is some hope her sanity can be restored. The Archwizards hold a private but luxurious feast to honour their agents, and after much fine dining and speechifying, they are each presented with a silver seal ring, marking them out as honoured friends of the Guildhalls. A trace of arcane power lingers within the ring, a small measure of protection in case of trouble.