A few days ago, the excellent Noisms posted an interesting challenge on his blog. Take 2d6 randomly-selected creatures from a bestiary of your choice (randomized with real randomy randomness), assume they're intelligent, and build a campaign world where they're the dominant races. Let's do just that.
I get 10 creatures. Whoo.
My chosen bestiary? The Penumbra Fantasy Bestiary, published in 2003 by Atlas Games. This is a solid and worthwhile choice for several reasons: it's got a robust array of inhabitants; it's one of only two bestiaries I own; most importantly, I wrote a little of it. (One of Noisms's commenters used Borges, which is an awesome idea.)
The lucky contestants:
Njuzu: "A particularly intelligent and territorial race of aquatic elemental creatures." Shapeshifters and critter-controllers.
Kr'awn: "A race of horrible beings resembling a patchwork of humanoid and salamander... all are twisted and deformed." Many have a mutation of dubious value; a few subraces w/powers exist.
Poukai: "An enormous man-eating bird resembling a toucan." Ten feet tall and possessed of a bloodcurdling screech.
Ice Lion: "Fearsome elemental predators... the embodiment of the killing cold of the winter tundra." Big mean kitty with cold powers.
Makara: "Both types of makara [crocodile and shark] have the ability to transform their upper bodies into illusions of other creatures, in hopes of luring victims into the water where they can attack." A water theme is shaping up here...
Dryad: Two new subraces, one for wicked earth dryads (itnala) and another for hardened warriors who outlived their trees (shethala)
.
Chupacabra: "The elusive 'goat suckers'... they resemble large, long-snouted dogs with big eyes, needle-like claws, and large bat wings." I could not be happier.
Hive Spider, Juvenile: "Once the hive spider has entered the body, it devours the brain matter and creates a nest. It then takes control of the body..." which later becomes a grotesque spider-headed monstrosity. Makes me think of Dax from DS9 gone horribly wrong (or horribly right?).
War Dragon: Moderately intelligent dragons used as servants or partners by warlike humans. My favorite part is the breath weapon -- a war dragon just vomits the rocky contents of its gizzard at you.
Celenian: "A race that looks much like a werewolf in its hybrid form... celenians often are to be found stalking and killing members of evil races." Kind of a blah creature to end on, although some of the moon mythology in the entry is interesting.
My only regret is that my race, the victim-flaying skin-wearing xipitotec, didn't get rolled up. Now to see if I can make some kind of a campaign out of this mess.
Saturday, March 24, 2012
Wednesday, March 21, 2012
Pretend, damn you!
In case you're interested, a couple folks have written short essays about RPGs and pretending. They're worth checking out.
This is what Monte Cook says about pretending. He's one of the Big Dudes in RPG design -- co-wrote 3e D&D, lead designer on 5e -- so his thoughts could shape the hobby for years to come. The takeaway quote:
"It's honestly one of the biggest barriers to more people playing the game, but it's something we seem to talk about only occasionally. We talk about making the rules simpler, the game more fun, or the books more accessible, but we probably don't spend a lot of time talking about how most people (again, over the age of about 12) don't know how to pretend."
This is what the AV Club says about pretending. The writer, Todd VanDerWerff, is apparently doing a series on exposing himself to "nerd culture," a label that fails to fill me with joy. Making a set of goofy hobbies into a shared culture/lifestyle has consequences... that's for another day. Here's the takeaway quote about his paladin Lenore considering giving up her alignment to receive her freedom from a lich:
"It’s possible, I realize, to put myself in two different places. Todd thinks it would be cool to see what happened if she turns evil. Lenore knows she’d never take that deal. And in that instant, I can see what this whole role-playing thing is about, why it holds so many in its expensive thrall: For an instant, you aren’t seeing with your eyes. You’re seeing with someone else’s eyes. And it’s intoxicating."
Both essays skew toward pretending-as-playing-a-character, which happens to be exactly what I like. But there are other common kinds of pretend: exploring imaginary environments, making stuff up and watching it instantly become narrative canon, etc. I've argued before that this is what sets RPGs apart from other pastimes. There, I called it "simulation" since I was using GNS theory as a reference point. A better term, perhaps, would be "emulation." Roleplaying excels at letting you Feel Like X for almost any value of X.
I've roleplayed with a handful of people who didn't like to pretend. Not just that they were uncomfortable or inexperienced; they honestly didn't enjoy doing it. They were, without exception, the dullest players I've ever known. Dunno why they even got into the hobby if they were just going to treat it as a boardgame.
Maybe that's the audience for the new Battleship movie.
This is what Monte Cook says about pretending. He's one of the Big Dudes in RPG design -- co-wrote 3e D&D, lead designer on 5e -- so his thoughts could shape the hobby for years to come. The takeaway quote:
"It's honestly one of the biggest barriers to more people playing the game, but it's something we seem to talk about only occasionally. We talk about making the rules simpler, the game more fun, or the books more accessible, but we probably don't spend a lot of time talking about how most people (again, over the age of about 12) don't know how to pretend."
This is what the AV Club says about pretending. The writer, Todd VanDerWerff, is apparently doing a series on exposing himself to "nerd culture," a label that fails to fill me with joy. Making a set of goofy hobbies into a shared culture/lifestyle has consequences... that's for another day. Here's the takeaway quote about his paladin Lenore considering giving up her alignment to receive her freedom from a lich:
"It’s possible, I realize, to put myself in two different places. Todd thinks it would be cool to see what happened if she turns evil. Lenore knows she’d never take that deal. And in that instant, I can see what this whole role-playing thing is about, why it holds so many in its expensive thrall: For an instant, you aren’t seeing with your eyes. You’re seeing with someone else’s eyes. And it’s intoxicating."
Both essays skew toward pretending-as-playing-a-character, which happens to be exactly what I like. But there are other common kinds of pretend: exploring imaginary environments, making stuff up and watching it instantly become narrative canon, etc. I've argued before that this is what sets RPGs apart from other pastimes. There, I called it "simulation" since I was using GNS theory as a reference point. A better term, perhaps, would be "emulation." Roleplaying excels at letting you Feel Like X for almost any value of X.
I've roleplayed with a handful of people who didn't like to pretend. Not just that they were uncomfortable or inexperienced; they honestly didn't enjoy doing it. They were, without exception, the dullest players I've ever known. Dunno why they even got into the hobby if they were just going to treat it as a boardgame.
Maybe that's the audience for the new Battleship movie.
Friday, March 9, 2012
Escape From White Plume Mountain
For absolutely no reason, I was thinking about White Plume Mountain this morning. Alert readers will recall that I'm not a fan of this D&D module. It scratches an itch that I don't have. Perhaps you love it. That's cool.
What I was thinking about this morning was one of the fundamental flaws in this type of adventure. It's something that doesn't seem to be discussed by The Great RPG Thinkers, but it's a crucial omission that's common to funhouse dungeons like White Plume Mountain. What do all these critters eat?
"But Matt," you may say, "a wizard did it! The place is sustained by magic! Please suspend your disbelief at the door as you descend into a labyrinth of subconscious terror and..." by now I'm already rapping on the table to interrupt you.
We can debate the relative merits of "a wizard did it" another day. That ain't the problem here. Ditto for the fatal blow that this kind of dungeon strikes against one's sense of verisimilitude. The problem is that if the monsters don't have a food source, I can't exploit it. By detaching White Plume Mountain's inhabitants from such day-to-day concerns as what they eat and where they sleep and how they spend their time when they aren't waiting for some moron to wander into the mountain, the module deprives me of several promising lines of attack.
Anyone who's played Cyberpunk or Shadowrun knows that, in order to get into The Secure Location, you dress as a delivery guy. Who's the delivery guy for White Plume Mountain? Beating him up and taking his place would be an awesome adventure. I'm sure a competent GM could work that out on the fly. But a competent module-writer could also have included a few sentences about it, saving us some trouble when our players have a brilliant idea like that, and also getting paid more on a per-word basis. Exploiting the real-world-ish behaviors of fantastic critters is a promising line of thought.
EDIT: I know some people who worked with White Plume Mountain's author, Lawrence Schick. He is, in fact, a very competent designer and writer. But I still think the module needs some background logistical stuff. Maybe 250 words of it; at 2 cents/word, that's another $5 for Lawrence right there.
What I was thinking about this morning was one of the fundamental flaws in this type of adventure. It's something that doesn't seem to be discussed by The Great RPG Thinkers, but it's a crucial omission that's common to funhouse dungeons like White Plume Mountain. What do all these critters eat?
"But Matt," you may say, "a wizard did it! The place is sustained by magic! Please suspend your disbelief at the door as you descend into a labyrinth of subconscious terror and..." by now I'm already rapping on the table to interrupt you.
We can debate the relative merits of "a wizard did it" another day. That ain't the problem here. Ditto for the fatal blow that this kind of dungeon strikes against one's sense of verisimilitude. The problem is that if the monsters don't have a food source, I can't exploit it. By detaching White Plume Mountain's inhabitants from such day-to-day concerns as what they eat and where they sleep and how they spend their time when they aren't waiting for some moron to wander into the mountain, the module deprives me of several promising lines of attack.
Anyone who's played Cyberpunk or Shadowrun knows that, in order to get into The Secure Location, you dress as a delivery guy. Who's the delivery guy for White Plume Mountain? Beating him up and taking his place would be an awesome adventure. I'm sure a competent GM could work that out on the fly. But a competent module-writer could also have included a few sentences about it, saving us some trouble when our players have a brilliant idea like that, and also getting paid more on a per-word basis. Exploiting the real-world-ish behaviors of fantastic critters is a promising line of thought.
EDIT: I know some people who worked with White Plume Mountain's author, Lawrence Schick. He is, in fact, a very competent designer and writer. But I still think the module needs some background logistical stuff. Maybe 250 words of it; at 2 cents/word, that's another $5 for Lawrence right there.
Tuesday, March 6, 2012
The Return of the DMG
We continue our quest to see what common ground, and what grounds for divorce, can be found between me and the esteemed Gary Gygax. I think we're up to...
P. 75 -- Out of nowhere, a herd of combat-matrix charts thunders across the middle of the book! In its midst are a couple that deal with psionics. I don't have a lot to say about the specifics of AD&D's take on psychic powers. I do say, when running a D&D game, that psychics aren't allowed. Unless you're my friend Kevin, who really likes psionic characters, and also happens to be my wife's brother, so I have a vested interest in Kevin's ongoing happiness. Yours? Not so much.
It's not that the system is bad per se, or that it lacks balance or anything like that.* The problem is that psionics feel wrong when stacked up against Vancian wizards and fightin' clerics. You can find some thematic and mechanical overlap with the latter two's spells-per-day, the need for rest, the idea of bargains with powerful inhuman entities... and then along comes this weird sci-fi-ish point-based system that, when next to those guys, is screaming "I'M AN OPTIONAL GAME MECHANIC! LOOK AT ME LOOK AT ME LOOKATME!"
What would be cool? A D&D game that only uses psionics for magic. No arcane, no divine. I think you'd get a bloodier version of the Deryni Chronicles. Someone should do that.
P. 80 -- Around 1979, there was enough debate about saving throws that Gary spent 7 paragraphs justifying and defending them. I wonder how much of this was necessary, and how much was an excuse to say "personae" a few times?
P. 81 -- Certain tubby lycanthropes have all the luck.You'll have to wonder how.
P. 82 -- Another extended defense of hit points. I grasp -- and even like -- the idea that characters have some resistance to damage beyond a small pool of points based on Constitution or its equivalent, whether it be luck or divine favor or the reflexes won by hard experience. This particular mechanic isn't how I'd do it, but people of goodwill can differ. What strikes me today is this sentence about an example 10th-level fighter: "It will require a long period of rest and recuperation to regain the physical and metaphysical peak of 95 hit points."
When's the last time you saw a high-level D&D character have a long period of rest and recuperation? You never have. That's not how the game has evolved. A pity. I think hit points, character mortality, healing magic, and several other things would work better and be more fun if we viewed hit points as a privilege rather than a right.
P. 83 -- I'm trying to skim for a sample every few pages, but this has been a rich vein. Now we've got a 20-item list of different insanities that can affect your character. It's almost devoid of game-specific mechanics and it's not using a current version of the DSM-IV -- so it's perfect for that Call of Cthulhu game you've been wanting to run.
P. 84 -- People who whined and moaned about how complicated CR was in 3e had clearly never read Unca Gary's advice on calculating XP.
P. 90 -- "The 'reality' AD&D seeks to create through role playing is that of the mythical heroes such as Conan, Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser, Kothar, Elric, and their ilk."
Kothar? I know most of the biggies. I collect many of these writers. Who the devil is Kothar?
Also, good luck trying to play Conan or the Mouser or Elric in old D&D.**
P. 92 -- "Another nadir of Dungeon Mastering is the 'killer-dungeon' concept. These campaigns are a travesty of the role-playing adventure game, for there is no development and identification with carefully nurtured player personae." Historically, I suspect this advice has been honored more in the breach than anywhere else. Also, if you're playing the Gygax-said-personae drinking game, do another shot now.
P. 94 -- A brief section on peasants, serfs, and slaves is followed immediately by a sample dungeon. The lack of transitions, whether text or layout, is like drifting onto a rumble strip. I'm awake now.
Sample map with 38 chambers, in the traditional D&D style that my wife describes as "drunken dwarvish architecture." Map key. Very detailed writeups of 3 chambers followed by an (Etc.). Quick rules on movement, detecting stuff, doors, concealed doors, secret doors -- there's a door fetish here -- and then we launch into an archetypal extended play example. I've seen this one elsewhere, I think; it's some kind of abandoned sunken monastery. In this version, the bulk of the dialogue is between the DM and a "Lead Character." Odd, to the modern reader, who is perhaps accustomed to allowing everyone to address the GM as desired.
It's a pretty good play example. Not my kind of gameplay, I can tell, but it lays out the writer's expectations very clearly. I've always hated it. The content and structure are fine, but then we have the bit on page 100. Our sample gnome is above everyone else when he discovers a secret opening. As it opens, he fails a surprise roll, gets bushwhacked by a quartet of ghouls, is paralyzed, and then by GM fiat, he's just eaten. End of the game, gnomey! Hope you weren't having fun!
This always takes me back to age 9 and my first roleplaying experience. It was some form of D&D, maybe even this one. What I remember most is how excited I was when I got home, rattling on and on to my bemused mother about how great my character was and all the things I was going to do and all the things I was going to make and all the wonderful plans I had now. Why kill that? Why take away the character? All our gnome did was have a clever idea about how to open a secret door. It seems kinda shameful to just throw a pack of ghouls at him and turn him into gnome-kebab because he failed one unexpected saving throw.
...well, I can see several pages of charts about NPC character traits coming up. Good time for a breather.
_________
* I haven't played/run with enough D&D psionicists to be sure, but my spider-sense tells me that this system is unbalanced in every version of the game I've encountered.
** On the one hand, yeah, you can house-rule that stuff in. On the other hand, if I have to house-rule the cool stuff, why buy someone else's game in the first place?
P. 75 -- Out of nowhere, a herd of combat-matrix charts thunders across the middle of the book! In its midst are a couple that deal with psionics. I don't have a lot to say about the specifics of AD&D's take on psychic powers. I do say, when running a D&D game, that psychics aren't allowed. Unless you're my friend Kevin, who really likes psionic characters, and also happens to be my wife's brother, so I have a vested interest in Kevin's ongoing happiness. Yours? Not so much.
It's not that the system is bad per se, or that it lacks balance or anything like that.* The problem is that psionics feel wrong when stacked up against Vancian wizards and fightin' clerics. You can find some thematic and mechanical overlap with the latter two's spells-per-day, the need for rest, the idea of bargains with powerful inhuman entities... and then along comes this weird sci-fi-ish point-based system that, when next to those guys, is screaming "I'M AN OPTIONAL GAME MECHANIC! LOOK AT ME LOOK AT ME LOOKATME!"
What would be cool? A D&D game that only uses psionics for magic. No arcane, no divine. I think you'd get a bloodier version of the Deryni Chronicles. Someone should do that.
P. 80 -- Around 1979, there was enough debate about saving throws that Gary spent 7 paragraphs justifying and defending them. I wonder how much of this was necessary, and how much was an excuse to say "personae" a few times?
P. 81 -- Certain tubby lycanthropes have all the luck.You'll have to wonder how.
P. 82 -- Another extended defense of hit points. I grasp -- and even like -- the idea that characters have some resistance to damage beyond a small pool of points based on Constitution or its equivalent, whether it be luck or divine favor or the reflexes won by hard experience. This particular mechanic isn't how I'd do it, but people of goodwill can differ. What strikes me today is this sentence about an example 10th-level fighter: "It will require a long period of rest and recuperation to regain the physical and metaphysical peak of 95 hit points."
When's the last time you saw a high-level D&D character have a long period of rest and recuperation? You never have. That's not how the game has evolved. A pity. I think hit points, character mortality, healing magic, and several other things would work better and be more fun if we viewed hit points as a privilege rather than a right.
P. 83 -- I'm trying to skim for a sample every few pages, but this has been a rich vein. Now we've got a 20-item list of different insanities that can affect your character. It's almost devoid of game-specific mechanics and it's not using a current version of the DSM-IV -- so it's perfect for that Call of Cthulhu game you've been wanting to run.
P. 84 -- People who whined and moaned about how complicated CR was in 3e had clearly never read Unca Gary's advice on calculating XP.
P. 90 -- "The 'reality' AD&D seeks to create through role playing is that of the mythical heroes such as Conan, Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser, Kothar, Elric, and their ilk."
Kothar? I know most of the biggies. I collect many of these writers. Who the devil is Kothar?
Also, good luck trying to play Conan or the Mouser or Elric in old D&D.**
P. 92 -- "Another nadir of Dungeon Mastering is the 'killer-dungeon' concept. These campaigns are a travesty of the role-playing adventure game, for there is no development and identification with carefully nurtured player personae." Historically, I suspect this advice has been honored more in the breach than anywhere else. Also, if you're playing the Gygax-said-personae drinking game, do another shot now.
P. 94 -- A brief section on peasants, serfs, and slaves is followed immediately by a sample dungeon. The lack of transitions, whether text or layout, is like drifting onto a rumble strip. I'm awake now.
Sample map with 38 chambers, in the traditional D&D style that my wife describes as "drunken dwarvish architecture." Map key. Very detailed writeups of 3 chambers followed by an (Etc.). Quick rules on movement, detecting stuff, doors, concealed doors, secret doors -- there's a door fetish here -- and then we launch into an archetypal extended play example. I've seen this one elsewhere, I think; it's some kind of abandoned sunken monastery. In this version, the bulk of the dialogue is between the DM and a "Lead Character." Odd, to the modern reader, who is perhaps accustomed to allowing everyone to address the GM as desired.
It's a pretty good play example. Not my kind of gameplay, I can tell, but it lays out the writer's expectations very clearly. I've always hated it. The content and structure are fine, but then we have the bit on page 100. Our sample gnome is above everyone else when he discovers a secret opening. As it opens, he fails a surprise roll, gets bushwhacked by a quartet of ghouls, is paralyzed, and then by GM fiat, he's just eaten. End of the game, gnomey! Hope you weren't having fun!
This always takes me back to age 9 and my first roleplaying experience. It was some form of D&D, maybe even this one. What I remember most is how excited I was when I got home, rattling on and on to my bemused mother about how great my character was and all the things I was going to do and all the things I was going to make and all the wonderful plans I had now. Why kill that? Why take away the character? All our gnome did was have a clever idea about how to open a secret door. It seems kinda shameful to just throw a pack of ghouls at him and turn him into gnome-kebab because he failed one unexpected saving throw.
...well, I can see several pages of charts about NPC character traits coming up. Good time for a breather.
_________
* I haven't played/run with enough D&D psionicists to be sure, but my spider-sense tells me that this system is unbalanced in every version of the game I've encountered.
** On the one hand, yeah, you can house-rule that stuff in. On the other hand, if I have to house-rule the cool stuff, why buy someone else's game in the first place?
Tuesday, February 28, 2012
The Ballad of Johnny Ace
Today I tell you the story of Johnny Ace. It's a cautionary tale going waaaay back to the early 1990s and the second-ever Cyberpunk 2020 game run by yours truly. Every new Cyberpunk player at my table hears this story their first session, so that they understand what kind of game they're playing.
In my first-ever game, the three PCs were an unstoppable wrecking crew. I wanted to challenge them. So the Viking-themed drugrunners they were fighting brought in an ace -- Johnny Ace. He was an NPC Solo (the game's best combat class) built with regular PC rules. And I rolled him up with the best Cyberpunk rolls I've ever made in my life. He was an Olympic athlete, a genius, a man whose core humanity was so deep that he could have ridiculous amounts of cyberware without any risk of cyberpsychosis. No cheating on my part; he was just that good. And during the climactic firefight (there was always a climactic firefight in those days) he was going to round a corner and teach the PCs the meaning of fear...
The firefight starts. Our PCs are pushing back the Viking gang. Some kind of signal is given, and around the corner comes the infamous hired gun Johnny Ace, bristling with weapons and moving at top speed to plow through the surprised PCs. Initiative is rolled. One PC beats Johnny. A gun is aimed, fired, the bullet hits Johnny in the head, plows through his top-quality armor, drops him dead on the spot. No way to escape it. The best Cyberpunk character I ever committed to paper, and he didn't survive long enough to take a single action.
"That," I tell my new Cyberpunk players, "is what can happen to you in this game. You have been warned."
Some sentences just show up, demanding to be written. Sentences like my first response to Untimately's question #2:
"2. How are death and dying handled? -- Rarely. If your character dies, either you wanted it or you're an idiot. Trust me; you'll have plenty of other losses along the way."
My second question #11 gets at the same thing. There are some contexts where the specter of sudden death is part of the fun, like Cyberpunk or Call Of Cthulhu. It creates certain expectations that player and GM alike can do neat stuff with. But I think it's a bad default for RPGs in general. My Mattifesto series got into this at some length. Apparently I also shoot from the hip on it. For most games, I think, instant unearned death is not-fun, that mysterious substance that reduces the amount of fun available. Other bad things are fine, but your PC is someone you presumably wanted to play. The GM, who controls all other things in the game world, should let you have that PC until you're tired of it.
Sadly for Johnny Ace, I don't extend that security blanket to Cyberpunk. And he was an NPC anyway. Rest in pieces, Johnny.
In my first-ever game, the three PCs were an unstoppable wrecking crew. I wanted to challenge them. So the Viking-themed drugrunners they were fighting brought in an ace -- Johnny Ace. He was an NPC Solo (the game's best combat class) built with regular PC rules. And I rolled him up with the best Cyberpunk rolls I've ever made in my life. He was an Olympic athlete, a genius, a man whose core humanity was so deep that he could have ridiculous amounts of cyberware without any risk of cyberpsychosis. No cheating on my part; he was just that good. And during the climactic firefight (there was always a climactic firefight in those days) he was going to round a corner and teach the PCs the meaning of fear...
The firefight starts. Our PCs are pushing back the Viking gang. Some kind of signal is given, and around the corner comes the infamous hired gun Johnny Ace, bristling with weapons and moving at top speed to plow through the surprised PCs. Initiative is rolled. One PC beats Johnny. A gun is aimed, fired, the bullet hits Johnny in the head, plows through his top-quality armor, drops him dead on the spot. No way to escape it. The best Cyberpunk character I ever committed to paper, and he didn't survive long enough to take a single action.
"That," I tell my new Cyberpunk players, "is what can happen to you in this game. You have been warned."
Some sentences just show up, demanding to be written. Sentences like my first response to Untimately's question #2:
"2. How are death and dying handled? -- Rarely. If your character dies, either you wanted it or you're an idiot. Trust me; you'll have plenty of other losses along the way."
My second question #11 gets at the same thing. There are some contexts where the specter of sudden death is part of the fun, like Cyberpunk or Call Of Cthulhu. It creates certain expectations that player and GM alike can do neat stuff with. But I think it's a bad default for RPGs in general. My Mattifesto series got into this at some length. Apparently I also shoot from the hip on it. For most games, I think, instant unearned death is not-fun, that mysterious substance that reduces the amount of fun available. Other bad things are fine, but your PC is someone you presumably wanted to play. The GM, who controls all other things in the game world, should let you have that PC until you're tired of it.
Sadly for Johnny Ace, I don't extend that security blanket to Cyberpunk. And he was an NPC anyway. Rest in pieces, Johnny.
Monday, February 27, 2012
Lists are fun
Courtesy of the oft-delightful Jeff's Gameblog, I found this list of 20 questions from Brendan at Untimately (proper name? place name? enigmatic blog name? I dunno). I'm still chiseling away at the shape of Mind Shrike and I'm not in the right frame of mind for another DMG trawl, so let's answer some questions.
You're even getting bonus answers. Now how much would you pay?
1. Ability scores generation method? -- 4d6, drop lowest, any order
2. How are death and dying handled? -- Rarely. If your character dies, either you wanted it or you're an idiot. Trust me; you'll have plenty of other losses along the way.
3. What about raising the dead? -- Nope. Dead is dead. To do otherwise cheapens it.
4. How are replacement PCs handled? -- Worked into the story or character backgrounds if possible.
5. Initiative: individual, group, or something else? -- Varies from day to day. Individual most of the time.
6. Are there critical hits and fumbles? How do they work? -- Double damage on a natural 20, or maybe double max damage. On a natural 1, I reserve the right to do anything I damn well please; the exercise of that right is capricious.
7. Do I get any benefits for wearing a helmet? -- Now you're stylish. Otherwise, no.
8. Can I hurt my friends if I fire into melee or do something similarly silly? -- Yep.
9. Will we need to run from some encounters, or will we be able to kill everything? -- I, like the God of an endless stream of needlepoints and puffy sweaters, will not burden you with more than you can handle. And I assume you can handle anything I can think of.
10. Level-draining monsters: yes or no? -- Yes, but rare for the same reason death is.
11. Are there going to be cases where a failed save results in PC death? -- Almost never.
12. How strictly are encumbrance & resources tracked? -- Not. Unless the point of a given session is resource management. It's not a sub-game that intrigues me very often. I will make an exception for arrows, as ranged fighters can dominate battlefields too easily.
13. What's required when my PC gains a level? Training? Do I get new spells automatically? Can it happen in the middle of an adventure, or do I have to wait for down time? -- End of the adventure. Happens automatically. Don't waste game time with leveling-up questions, but we can hang around afterward for as long as it takes to fine-tune your PC. I dig it when you dig your character.
14. What do I get experience for? -- Showing up. Amusing me. A proportional share of the approximate rulebook XP value of the obstacles you overcame; I'll count "bluffing the duke" and suchlike as obstacles.
15. How are traps located? Description, dice rolling, or some combination? -- Dice rolling. Traps = Ugh. Unless you're one of those players who ABSOLUTELY LOVES the fiddly bits of realistic trapfinding. Then I'll accommodate you once or twice every session or two.
16. Are retainers encouraged and how does morale work? -- Mildly encouraged. Morale's an arbitrary dice roll when I remember that they might get scared, or a reflection of the personality we've established for them, depending on what seems fun at that moment.
17. How do I identify magic items? -- With magic spells or bardic knowledge. Not by testing and fiddling around and all that crap from a roguelike computer game. Life's too short.
18. Can I buy magic items? Oh, come on: how about just potions? -- Yeah, you can buy generic ones and low-level doodads. From someone who makes them, and who you persuade to do business with you. There's not a Wal-Mart Of Magic handy. You're gonna have to roleplay this one, pardner.
19. Can I create magic items? When and how? -- You can. Find an NPC who knows how, and persuade them to tell you what they know.
20. What about splitting the party? -- Don't make a habit of it. You're boring everyone else.
Many of those questions presume a D&Dish experience, which is fine if that's all you play. My bookshelf, however, groans beneath the weight of other systems. So here are a few answers that apply to any system I'm running...
1. Ability scores generation method? -- Whatever it says in the rulebook. I'll err on the side of generosity up front; I can find plenty of ways to whittle your advantage away later on if I need to.
2. How are death and dying handled? -- Rarely, as above. Other losses abound, as above.
4. How are replacement PCs handled? -- Case by case. I encourage players to connect their PC to the Story So Far, but it's not required. If you like your new PC, we'll work it in within the next 20 minutes somehow.
6. Are there critical hits and fumbles? How do they work? -- Not unless the rules call for it. And that, now that I think about it, is a shame. I'll have to fix that..
9. Will we need to run from some encounters, or will we be able to kill everything? -- You're much more clever, collectively, than I can ever be. I won't put anything that's guaranteed lethal in your path, but even if I do, you'll probably beat it in 1d4 rounds.
11. Are there going to be cases where a failed save results in PC death? -- Nope. If we're gonna do that, why not just set our rulebooks on fire right now and go find a new pastime?
14. What do I get experience for? -- Being fun. Having fun. Making me laugh. Shocking me into silence with your cunning. I'll reward "we had a better time because of you" more than "you effectively used your numbered piece of paper to overcome my numbered pieces of paper.".
16. Are retainers encouraged and how does morale work? -- If you can put up with one or two GM NPCs hanging around, it'll make me happy. If not, they'll leave.
20. What about splitting the party? -- That's a terrible idea. Now everyone's texting or playing Magic or something while you're doing your own thing. If you want a solo adventure, we can set one up later.
You're even getting bonus answers. Now how much would you pay?
1. Ability scores generation method? -- 4d6, drop lowest, any order
2. How are death and dying handled? -- Rarely. If your character dies, either you wanted it or you're an idiot. Trust me; you'll have plenty of other losses along the way.
3. What about raising the dead? -- Nope. Dead is dead. To do otherwise cheapens it.
4. How are replacement PCs handled? -- Worked into the story or character backgrounds if possible.
5. Initiative: individual, group, or something else? -- Varies from day to day. Individual most of the time.
6. Are there critical hits and fumbles? How do they work? -- Double damage on a natural 20, or maybe double max damage. On a natural 1, I reserve the right to do anything I damn well please; the exercise of that right is capricious.
7. Do I get any benefits for wearing a helmet? -- Now you're stylish. Otherwise, no.
8. Can I hurt my friends if I fire into melee or do something similarly silly? -- Yep.
9. Will we need to run from some encounters, or will we be able to kill everything? -- I, like the God of an endless stream of needlepoints and puffy sweaters, will not burden you with more than you can handle. And I assume you can handle anything I can think of.
10. Level-draining monsters: yes or no? -- Yes, but rare for the same reason death is.
11. Are there going to be cases where a failed save results in PC death? -- Almost never.
12. How strictly are encumbrance & resources tracked? -- Not. Unless the point of a given session is resource management. It's not a sub-game that intrigues me very often. I will make an exception for arrows, as ranged fighters can dominate battlefields too easily.
13. What's required when my PC gains a level? Training? Do I get new spells automatically? Can it happen in the middle of an adventure, or do I have to wait for down time? -- End of the adventure. Happens automatically. Don't waste game time with leveling-up questions, but we can hang around afterward for as long as it takes to fine-tune your PC. I dig it when you dig your character.
14. What do I get experience for? -- Showing up. Amusing me. A proportional share of the approximate rulebook XP value of the obstacles you overcame; I'll count "bluffing the duke" and suchlike as obstacles.
15. How are traps located? Description, dice rolling, or some combination? -- Dice rolling. Traps = Ugh. Unless you're one of those players who ABSOLUTELY LOVES the fiddly bits of realistic trapfinding. Then I'll accommodate you once or twice every session or two.
16. Are retainers encouraged and how does morale work? -- Mildly encouraged. Morale's an arbitrary dice roll when I remember that they might get scared, or a reflection of the personality we've established for them, depending on what seems fun at that moment.
17. How do I identify magic items? -- With magic spells or bardic knowledge. Not by testing and fiddling around and all that crap from a roguelike computer game. Life's too short.
18. Can I buy magic items? Oh, come on: how about just potions? -- Yeah, you can buy generic ones and low-level doodads. From someone who makes them, and who you persuade to do business with you. There's not a Wal-Mart Of Magic handy. You're gonna have to roleplay this one, pardner.
19. Can I create magic items? When and how? -- You can. Find an NPC who knows how, and persuade them to tell you what they know.
20. What about splitting the party? -- Don't make a habit of it. You're boring everyone else.
Many of those questions presume a D&Dish experience, which is fine if that's all you play. My bookshelf, however, groans beneath the weight of other systems. So here are a few answers that apply to any system I'm running...
1. Ability scores generation method? -- Whatever it says in the rulebook. I'll err on the side of generosity up front; I can find plenty of ways to whittle your advantage away later on if I need to.
2. How are death and dying handled? -- Rarely, as above. Other losses abound, as above.
4. How are replacement PCs handled? -- Case by case. I encourage players to connect their PC to the Story So Far, but it's not required. If you like your new PC, we'll work it in within the next 20 minutes somehow.
6. Are there critical hits and fumbles? How do they work? -- Not unless the rules call for it. And that, now that I think about it, is a shame. I'll have to fix that..
9. Will we need to run from some encounters, or will we be able to kill everything? -- You're much more clever, collectively, than I can ever be. I won't put anything that's guaranteed lethal in your path, but even if I do, you'll probably beat it in 1d4 rounds.
11. Are there going to be cases where a failed save results in PC death? -- Nope. If we're gonna do that, why not just set our rulebooks on fire right now and go find a new pastime?
14. What do I get experience for? -- Being fun. Having fun. Making me laugh. Shocking me into silence with your cunning. I'll reward "we had a better time because of you" more than "you effectively used your numbered piece of paper to overcome my numbered pieces of paper.".
16. Are retainers encouraged and how does morale work? -- If you can put up with one or two GM NPCs hanging around, it'll make me happy. If not, they'll leave.
20. What about splitting the party? -- That's a terrible idea. Now everyone's texting or playing Magic or something while you're doing your own thing. If you want a solo adventure, we can set one up later.
Friday, February 24, 2012
Gentlemen -- BEHOLD!
Many years ago I collaborated with Keith "Eberron" Baker and Neal "He's good, but unfortunately you probably haven't heard of him" Gamache on a book called The Complete Guide to Beholders. This was before Eberron, when we just called him Keith "Daddy Smackdown The Hammer" Baker. Ask him sometime.
Anyway, I was thumbing through one of my comp copies last night. Keith wrote most of it and Neal wrote most of the rest; perhaps my longest single contribution was Chapter 7: Beholder Architecture.
I don't like maps and I don't much use battlemats and I don't like 4e D&D because of the emphasis on Specific Physical Locations. But I can write 9 straight pages of descriptive text about different kinds of beholder lairs -- how they're laid out, how they're used, what they mean. That says something about the kind of roleplayer I am. Dunno what, but something.
Luckily, someone who can do cartography made some nice maps based on my descriptions. I'l credit them by name next time I have the book handy.
Anyway, I was thumbing through one of my comp copies last night. Keith wrote most of it and Neal wrote most of the rest; perhaps my longest single contribution was Chapter 7: Beholder Architecture.
I don't like maps and I don't much use battlemats and I don't like 4e D&D because of the emphasis on Specific Physical Locations. But I can write 9 straight pages of descriptive text about different kinds of beholder lairs -- how they're laid out, how they're used, what they mean. That says something about the kind of roleplayer I am. Dunno what, but something.
Luckily, someone who can do cartography made some nice maps based on my descriptions. I'l credit them by name next time I have the book handy.
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