There's an RPGNet thread about whether elves are too annoying to be allowed in role-playing games. It's not an important thread, since this exact same topic arises every 4-6 months. What gets me is that some people -- not the thread creator, in this case -- actually get deep into this discussion, as if somehow they are going to be able to convince people never to play elves again and the entire world will be safe. Of course, there's something like this attitude in a lot of internet discussions, but it just seems particularly absurd when you're discussing which character races should be allowed in a fantasy game. Isn't it just a matter of taste?
Anyways, the crux of these arguments always rests on a mythical "elf-fanboy" who never plays anything except an elf and insists that elves are incapable of making errors or being less than perfect. Now, there are fanboys of every conceivable variety, and some inconceivable ones as well; there are also fanboys who refuse to play anything other than a character that fits their obsession. But it's the second part -- elves must be perfect -- that riles up the elf-haters, and it's that same part that I doubt. None of the rules systems I know of would back up a character who can't fail. Anyone who seriously bought into the idea of elves as perfect would throw a tantrum the first time the dice didn't roll in their favor. And who would regularly play with such a person?
In my experience, elves were the choice of anyone who wanted to mix magic and physical combat. There's some other attractions, based on whichever fantasy novel or film a person may have read, but the main point was to be the guy who could fight and cast spells. So, they get a restriction that they have to either get magic weapons and armor or strip and disarm themselves if they want to cast spells, and they have to split experience between both classes. Simple. No subtext about playing a "Mary Sue" character that I can see.
So where did the elf-hatred come from, really?
Thursday, August 27, 2009
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Intermission
I've just gotten back from a family event and have been wiped out, which is why I took a break yesterday. I'm prepping four more installments of my "Redesigning Psionics" series, so I've decided to post something light today. What better topic than my feelings about the length of rules?
I know what I've posted so far about redesigning psionics and some of the other houserules posts may have seem pretty wordy. This probably seems funny, considering how much I've said I want more of a rules light, summary instead of catalog approach to roleplaying. But then, these houserules posts are partly descriptions with examples of really simple rules, and partly me hashing out possibilities, thinking in public as it were. Those rules can be compressed and condensed. In fact, since I keep reusing the 2d6 risk mechanic, many of the houserules are just multiple examples of the same rule.
Still, they are awfully wordy, and I do plan on doing summary sheets -- call them "houserule modules" -- for several of the topics. I'm pretty sure I could compress the final version of the alternative psionics system into two pages, with maybe an extra couple pages of pre-made disciplines for those GMs that don't want to roll their own.
So rest assured, I will have something simpler soon.
I know what I've posted so far about redesigning psionics and some of the other houserules posts may have seem pretty wordy. This probably seems funny, considering how much I've said I want more of a rules light, summary instead of catalog approach to roleplaying. But then, these houserules posts are partly descriptions with examples of really simple rules, and partly me hashing out possibilities, thinking in public as it were. Those rules can be compressed and condensed. In fact, since I keep reusing the 2d6 risk mechanic, many of the houserules are just multiple examples of the same rule.
Still, they are awfully wordy, and I do plan on doing summary sheets -- call them "houserule modules" -- for several of the topics. I'm pretty sure I could compress the final version of the alternative psionics system into two pages, with maybe an extra couple pages of pre-made disciplines for those GMs that don't want to roll their own.
So rest assured, I will have something simpler soon.
Saturday, August 22, 2009
Quick & Dirty Monster Hit Points
I've previously mentioned tracking damage with tally marks on scratch paper instead of erasing and recalculating hit points after every wound. As helpful as that is for PCs, it's even better for the DM, especially with a couple extra tricks.
Instead of recording hit points in modules and DM notes beforehand, just note the hit dice, which you need for attack and save purposes anyways. For a single monster with just a few hit dice, roll the dice the first time the PCs score a hit. If the PC does enough damage on the first hit to kill the monster, you've just avoided some writing and erasing. Otherwise, remove one or more dice equal to the damage done and let the remaining dice sit to one side; as the PCs do more damage, remove more dice until the creature is dead. If the party leaves without killing the creature, write down the remaining hit points; use that if the party encounters the monster again that same day, or add 1d6 hit points per two days between encounters.
For more than one creature, roll extra damage for the first one or two hits per creature, to emulate variable hit points. For creatures of up to 8 HD, roll half their HD as extra damage on the first hit; for 9+ HD creatures, roll one-fourth their HD as extra damage on the first and second hits. Mark twelve tally marks per line on your scratch paper (or more, if using 8-sided HD or higher.) When you've filled up a line, you've "killed" 2 HD worth of creature.
Instead of recording hit points in modules and DM notes beforehand, just note the hit dice, which you need for attack and save purposes anyways. For a single monster with just a few hit dice, roll the dice the first time the PCs score a hit. If the PC does enough damage on the first hit to kill the monster, you've just avoided some writing and erasing. Otherwise, remove one or more dice equal to the damage done and let the remaining dice sit to one side; as the PCs do more damage, remove more dice until the creature is dead. If the party leaves without killing the creature, write down the remaining hit points; use that if the party encounters the monster again that same day, or add 1d6 hit points per two days between encounters.
For more than one creature, roll extra damage for the first one or two hits per creature, to emulate variable hit points. For creatures of up to 8 HD, roll half their HD as extra damage on the first hit; for 9+ HD creatures, roll one-fourth their HD as extra damage on the first and second hits. Mark twelve tally marks per line on your scratch paper (or more, if using 8-sided HD or higher.) When you've filled up a line, you've "killed" 2 HD worth of creature.
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Elf and Dwarf
Joseph at The Grognard's Lawn says some things about character races that I mostly agree with: there should be more variation within individual races, especially within humanity; the nonhuman races are too ridiculously attractive, compared to humans; and turning elves and dwarves from supernatural beings into mere humans with extra bonuses is a real disservice to the spirit of fantasy. But I have a couple comments to make on the topic of races.
First, although D&D elves and dwarves have certainly developed into strongly-Tolkienized fantasy races, the original LBB elves and dwarves had very little Tolkien influence. The Tolkien influence on dwarves is the strongest -- they have beards and axes and the v instead of f; everything else is arguably present in folklore. LBB elves borrow sharp senses from Tolkien. Although Joseph quite rightly points out that most sword & sorcery does not have nonhuman fantasy races, there are a few (Zelazny's Dilvish the Damned was part elvish, Elric is basically an evil elf, Corum is literally called an elf.) And let's not forget that there's a non-S&S fantasy tradition that draws heavily from fairy-tales, Arthurian romance, The Faerie Queen, and so on.
Second, I can't stand defining races as a bonus to an attribute or set of skills. It's flavorless. For human variants, I think the best bet is to create one or two variant talents that a member of that culture can start with, replacing one or two common talents. For example, an exotic desert-dwelling culture that can't start with knowledge of swimming (because of the rarity of large bodies of water,) but which has a "sand-swimming" talent as a replacement. A PC from this culture isn't forbidden from learning swimming, nor are other PCs forbidden from learning sand-swimming; they just start out from different baselines.
For nonhuman variants, give them some truly different abilities that are individually internally balanced, such as dark vision combined with either eerie glowing eyes (visible to enemies in dark, reaction penalty) or light sensitivity (more easily surprised in daylight, attack and skill penalty.) Plus, each nonhuman race could have at least one additional negative feature. Nonhuman races with limits are more interesting than superhumans.
First, although D&D elves and dwarves have certainly developed into strongly-Tolkienized fantasy races, the original LBB elves and dwarves had very little Tolkien influence. The Tolkien influence on dwarves is the strongest -- they have beards and axes and the v instead of f; everything else is arguably present in folklore. LBB elves borrow sharp senses from Tolkien. Although Joseph quite rightly points out that most sword & sorcery does not have nonhuman fantasy races, there are a few (Zelazny's Dilvish the Damned was part elvish, Elric is basically an evil elf, Corum is literally called an elf.) And let's not forget that there's a non-S&S fantasy tradition that draws heavily from fairy-tales, Arthurian romance, The Faerie Queen, and so on.
Second, I can't stand defining races as a bonus to an attribute or set of skills. It's flavorless. For human variants, I think the best bet is to create one or two variant talents that a member of that culture can start with, replacing one or two common talents. For example, an exotic desert-dwelling culture that can't start with knowledge of swimming (because of the rarity of large bodies of water,) but which has a "sand-swimming" talent as a replacement. A PC from this culture isn't forbidden from learning swimming, nor are other PCs forbidden from learning sand-swimming; they just start out from different baselines.
For nonhuman variants, give them some truly different abilities that are individually internally balanced, such as dark vision combined with either eerie glowing eyes (visible to enemies in dark, reaction penalty) or light sensitivity (more easily surprised in daylight, attack and skill penalty.) Plus, each nonhuman race could have at least one additional negative feature. Nonhuman races with limits are more interesting than superhumans.
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Stat Blocks
James Maliszewski of Grognardia has an interesting post (and follow-up discussion) today about the presentation of monsters in various editions of D&D. I'm with him on a number of points. Although I prefer the AD&D 1e format to later formats, I don't quite like it, either. The main problem is the stat block, as well as useless information in the descriptive text.
For the stat block, the LBB table is actually fairly ideal. A stat block in a "monster manually" really only needs a few stats (Hit Dice, AC, damage) and a few details that would get lost in descriptive text (# appearing, % in lair, treasure type, alignment, frequency.) Alignment, frequency, and maybe habitat and general monster type could all be combined into a label, to eliminate the uselessness of having separate stat lines. So, I'd prefer something like these adaptations of Labyrinth Lord monsters:
Other monster types that could be condensed are undead. Can't we assume that skeletal undead like the Eye of Fear and Flame and Coffer Corpse are basically like skeletons, but with a couple unique abilities? Animals are a big offender as well; aside from generic type (herd animals, pack predators, insectivores,) why do we need specific HD, AC and damage for each animal? The AD&D Monster Manual had a tendency to create specific hit dice and armor class for every monster conceivable simply because, once the space had been allocated for a specific monster entry, all the stats had to be filled.
The explains some of the anomalies in the way I presented the three monsters above. I prefer to leave out information that's considered the norm. Most creatures are neutral, so only indicate alignment for a Chaotic or Lawful creature; most creatures are common, so don't indicate a frequency of "common". This plays into the issue of movement rates as well. I left them out because I would probably rule movement rate based on general creature type instead of using individual movement entries. When the movement rate is distinct because it really matters to the feel of a creature, I would note it.
For the stat block, the LBB table is actually fairly ideal. A stat block in a "monster manually" really only needs a few stats (Hit Dice, AC, damage) and a few details that would get lost in descriptive text (# appearing, % in lair, treasure type, alignment, frequency.) Alignment, frequency, and maybe habitat and general monster type could all be combined into a label, to eliminate the uselessness of having separate stat lines. So, I'd prefer something like these adaptations of Labyrinth Lord monsters:
Scorpion, Giant (Uncommon Chaotic Desert Bug)There are some oddities there, which I'll explain in a moment. But I'm sure some people are wondering about the "useless text" I mentioned. For a new monster presentation, I have no problem with descriptive text that explains a monster's behavior, special abilities, or things like that. However, I believe that the key to keeping descriptions short and useful is to only mention that which is different from what you would expect. Some big offenders in the Monster Manual are the humanoids. Most of the details of the humanoids should be the same; there will be females as well as males, infants, higher HD leaders, some kind of religious structure. You don't need a detailed paragraph about their social structure, just a couple notes about how it differs from the norm; "polygamous x 3", for example, would indicate a 3-to-1 female-to-male ratio.
1d6 (1d6), HD 4, AC 2, 1d10/1d10/1d4 + poison, Treasure VII
Shrew, Giant (Uncommon Burrowing Beast)
1d4 (1d8), HD 1, AC 4, 1d6/1d6
Skeleton (Chaotic Undead)
3d4 (3d10), HD 1, AC 7, 1d6 or weapon
Other monster types that could be condensed are undead. Can't we assume that skeletal undead like the Eye of Fear and Flame and Coffer Corpse are basically like skeletons, but with a couple unique abilities? Animals are a big offender as well; aside from generic type (herd animals, pack predators, insectivores,) why do we need specific HD, AC and damage for each animal? The AD&D Monster Manual had a tendency to create specific hit dice and armor class for every monster conceivable simply because, once the space had been allocated for a specific monster entry, all the stats had to be filled.
The explains some of the anomalies in the way I presented the three monsters above. I prefer to leave out information that's considered the norm. Most creatures are neutral, so only indicate alignment for a Chaotic or Lawful creature; most creatures are common, so don't indicate a frequency of "common". This plays into the issue of movement rates as well. I left them out because I would probably rule movement rate based on general creature type instead of using individual movement entries. When the movement rate is distinct because it really matters to the feel of a creature, I would note it.
TFT Notes
For those interested in The Fantasy Trip (mentioned yesterday,) I wrote some rule mods for Microlite20 to make it play more like TFT.
I'm not sure how far I want to develop a TFT-like version of Microlite20, but at least this gives an idea of what I thought needed simplifying in TFT.
I'm not sure how far I want to develop a TFT-like version of Microlite20, but at least this gives an idea of what I thought needed simplifying in TFT.
Monday, August 17, 2009
The Fantasy Trip
People have been talking about The Fantasy Trip on a couple blogs, Beyond the Black Gate and Grognardia. Mainly, they've been talking about a letter from Metagaming boss Howard Thompon, in which he says:
My own thought is that "the market", for whatever reason, is dedicated gamers. Dedicated gamers like the more involved rules systems. Casual gamers form a much smaller market, so rules lite systems do poorly. There's more to it than that, but that's enough.
"I think the system is better than D&D, but not by a huge margin. All the material in Advanced Melee and Advanced Wizard didn't need to be added at all. More spells and weapons fine, more detail of combat, no."And in the next paragraph:
"My feeling is that in the extra two years of work TFT got longer instead of better."This, as well as his speculation about what the market wanted as far as complexity, has sparked some discussion about whether or not the market really wants simpler games. GURPS, the more complex descendant of TFT, sells better than TFT ever did. AD&D existed alongside BECM for a while, seems to have won out; D&D 3e is even more complex and did well, and despite the claims of being simpler than 3e, its combat system is definitely more involved than TFT: Advanced Melee.
My own thought is that "the market", for whatever reason, is dedicated gamers. Dedicated gamers like the more involved rules systems. Casual gamers form a much smaller market, so rules lite systems do poorly. There's more to it than that, but that's enough.
Sunday, August 16, 2009
Old v. New
I made a passing comment on RPGnet that, given the statement that D&D is about "killing monsters and taking their stuff," you could sum up the old school and new school perspectives as a split between focusing on killing monsters (new school) versus focusing on taking their stuff (old school). It's not entirely a joke, especially if you broaden the two terms into "action" vs. "acquisition".
It's been said that New School D&D is about character challenge, which is what I mean by "action". People who prefer new school prefer knowing what their characters can do and whether they stand a chance doing it. In other words, they look for lists of well-defined skills and powers, as well as balancing encounters against party strength. It's all about being heroes.
Old School D&D is about player challenge. You have something for your character to acquire, and it's up to you to dream up the best way to get it with the least risk. In old school, classes are meant to limit rather than enable.
This applies to a whole lot more than just D&D, but there's plenty to discuss in any case.
It's been said that New School D&D is about character challenge, which is what I mean by "action". People who prefer new school prefer knowing what their characters can do and whether they stand a chance doing it. In other words, they look for lists of well-defined skills and powers, as well as balancing encounters against party strength. It's all about being heroes.
Old School D&D is about player challenge. You have something for your character to acquire, and it's up to you to dream up the best way to get it with the least risk. In old school, classes are meant to limit rather than enable.
This applies to a whole lot more than just D&D, but there's plenty to discuss in any case.
Saturday, August 15, 2009
Quick & Dirty Coinage
I was reading an article in Footprints #15, the Dragonsfoot OD&D/AD&D e-zine, called “Historically Resonant” Coinage for Advanced Dungeons & Dragons by Joe Maccarrone. Even though I'm leaning more towards OD&D than towards AD&D, it did get me thinking about coinage. I don't have a solid plan on how to handle coinage in the Nine and Thirty Kingdoms yet, but I have some inklings.
I had thought about moving from a gold standard to a silver standard before, not just for historical realism, which isn't a hard-core concern for me, anyways. I want to encourage a medieval feel, but I don't care about extreme historical accuracy. No, my bigger concern was that copper should mean more, and gold should mean a lot more. But since I'm not concerned with accuracy, one option is just to say that in standard equipment tables, read 1 gp as 1 sp, and 1 sp as 1 cp. Keep prices listed in cps the same, but increase the quantity purchased for that amount. Keep the treasure listings in modules the same, but switch to the 1 sp = 1 xp standard; this gives the party far more incentive to concentrate on getting treasure than on fighting monsters.
But on the other hand, I like having to not look things up, too. A simple formula, like the one I whipped up for rolling your own melee weapons, would be nicer. My quick and dirty solution: guess the weight of the item and add 1 for every adjective or special property to get the base cost for a wooden item. Double this for iron, bronze, brass, or copper; multiply by 20 for silver items, by 200 for golden ones. If the item is restricted or the knowledge to make it is rare, double or triple it again. This is the price in silver pieces; change it to copper for small common items used by peasants.
This won't give accurate prices that match the D&D or retroclone books, but they'll be reasonable enough for quick play.
I had thought about moving from a gold standard to a silver standard before, not just for historical realism, which isn't a hard-core concern for me, anyways. I want to encourage a medieval feel, but I don't care about extreme historical accuracy. No, my bigger concern was that copper should mean more, and gold should mean a lot more. But since I'm not concerned with accuracy, one option is just to say that in standard equipment tables, read 1 gp as 1 sp, and 1 sp as 1 cp. Keep prices listed in cps the same, but increase the quantity purchased for that amount. Keep the treasure listings in modules the same, but switch to the 1 sp = 1 xp standard; this gives the party far more incentive to concentrate on getting treasure than on fighting monsters.
But on the other hand, I like having to not look things up, too. A simple formula, like the one I whipped up for rolling your own melee weapons, would be nicer. My quick and dirty solution: guess the weight of the item and add 1 for every adjective or special property to get the base cost for a wooden item. Double this for iron, bronze, brass, or copper; multiply by 20 for silver items, by 200 for golden ones. If the item is restricted or the knowledge to make it is rare, double or triple it again. This is the price in silver pieces; change it to copper for small common items used by peasants.
This won't give accurate prices that match the D&D or retroclone books, but they'll be reasonable enough for quick play.
Friday, August 14, 2009
Eerie Gaming IV, Continued: The Eerie Dungeon
My previous post on a fae-touched OD&D variant described the mundane world and how adventurers wind up in fairy-land. This post describes fairy-land and how to escape it.
Whether you enter fairy-land in the wilderness or through a fae-touched door, you are considered to be on Dungeon Level 1 of a mythic underworld, only moreso.
Even on the deepest levels of a fairy-land dungeon, it is possible to open a door and step into a sparkling forest or moonlit desert. Time and space have little meaning here. Failure to map travel means a 1 in 6 chance of being lost (I prefer using my 2d6 risk mechanic for this, but a single d6 is fine, too.)
Getting lost in fairy-land means that the landscape changes; you push your way through some bushes and find an ice-field, and the forest behind you has disappeared. The same effect occurs in an underground setting. The best way to handle either is to have some geomorphs handy; when the party gets lost, choose a geomorph randomly and select which direction the party enters from.
A lost party can attempt to find its way back to a familiar area. The players describe where they are trying to go and what they are doing to find their way back (for example, if they are in a desert and they are trying to get back to a cavern they were in earlier, they might say they are looking for a rocky outcropping.) Roll 2d6 and pick the higher die result, then triple it; if the Wisdom of the leader/guide is higher than the die result, the party is one stage closer to getting back to where they wish to be. The GM judges how many attempts are necessary to get back based on broad degrees of difference between where the party is now and where it needs to go.
Example 1: Party is in a desert looking for caves in general. Their guide looks for a rocky outcropping. First success means the outcropping is found; they can then search for a cave entrance and get back underground.
Example 2: Party is in a desert looking for a specific cave. First, they need to get back underground, as in Example 1. Then, they wander through the tunnels, making a second 2d6 roll to get to that specific cave.
Example 3: Party is in a desert looking for a specific clearing in a forest. The guide looks for an oasis; success finds the oasis. Pushing through some dense brush at the oasis allows another 2d6 roll to find woods; searching through the woods is worth a third roll to find the clearing.
A good plan to find their way back grants the guide a +1 to Wisdom.
The players can exploit this feature of fairy-land to get from one known area to an unconnected area: head into a maze or wilderness area without mapping to get lost, then search for the second.
Getting out of fairy-land counts as finding your way back after being lost. First, if you are technically on Dungeon Level Two or lower, you must get back to Level One, one level at a time. Then, you must find your way to an area of fairy-land that resembles the place you came in; once there, roll 2d6, pick the highest, and double it; if your character level is higher than the result, you escape fairy-land; otherwise, you must wander away and return to try again.
Time in fairy-land doesn't flow the way it does in the mundane world. When you return, take the deepest level you reached in fairy-land and roll that many d6s (up to 8 dice.) Find the highest result and multiply that number by the base time unit, determined by how many dice there are with that result:
Characters earn extra experience for traveling through fairy-land. Multiply the deepest dungeon level reached by a number based on the amount of time you experienced in fairy-land (as opposed to the real time rolled for above.)
Whether you enter fairy-land in the wilderness or through a fae-touched door, you are considered to be on Dungeon Level 1 of a mythic underworld, only moreso.
- Fantastic creatures (ignore logic or ecology;)
- Traps of all sorts, which magically reset themselves;
- Doors open for monsters by themselves;
- Stairs (and chutes or shafts) allow you to change levels, even if "Dungeon Level Two" turns out to be a mountain range or seacoast;
- Monsters, even humans, see in the dark;
- Adventurers, even charmed or befriended monsters, do not.
Even on the deepest levels of a fairy-land dungeon, it is possible to open a door and step into a sparkling forest or moonlit desert. Time and space have little meaning here. Failure to map travel means a 1 in 6 chance of being lost (I prefer using my 2d6 risk mechanic for this, but a single d6 is fine, too.)
Getting lost in fairy-land means that the landscape changes; you push your way through some bushes and find an ice-field, and the forest behind you has disappeared. The same effect occurs in an underground setting. The best way to handle either is to have some geomorphs handy; when the party gets lost, choose a geomorph randomly and select which direction the party enters from.
A lost party can attempt to find its way back to a familiar area. The players describe where they are trying to go and what they are doing to find their way back (for example, if they are in a desert and they are trying to get back to a cavern they were in earlier, they might say they are looking for a rocky outcropping.) Roll 2d6 and pick the higher die result, then triple it; if the Wisdom of the leader/guide is higher than the die result, the party is one stage closer to getting back to where they wish to be. The GM judges how many attempts are necessary to get back based on broad degrees of difference between where the party is now and where it needs to go.
Example 1: Party is in a desert looking for caves in general. Their guide looks for a rocky outcropping. First success means the outcropping is found; they can then search for a cave entrance and get back underground.
Example 2: Party is in a desert looking for a specific cave. First, they need to get back underground, as in Example 1. Then, they wander through the tunnels, making a second 2d6 roll to get to that specific cave.
Example 3: Party is in a desert looking for a specific clearing in a forest. The guide looks for an oasis; success finds the oasis. Pushing through some dense brush at the oasis allows another 2d6 roll to find woods; searching through the woods is worth a third roll to find the clearing.
A good plan to find their way back grants the guide a +1 to Wisdom.
The players can exploit this feature of fairy-land to get from one known area to an unconnected area: head into a maze or wilderness area without mapping to get lost, then search for the second.
Getting out of fairy-land counts as finding your way back after being lost. First, if you are technically on Dungeon Level Two or lower, you must get back to Level One, one level at a time. Then, you must find your way to an area of fairy-land that resembles the place you came in; once there, roll 2d6, pick the highest, and double it; if your character level is higher than the result, you escape fairy-land; otherwise, you must wander away and return to try again.
Time in fairy-land doesn't flow the way it does in the mundane world. When you return, take the deepest level you reached in fairy-land and roll that many d6s (up to 8 dice.) Find the highest result and multiply that number by the base time unit, determined by how many dice there are with that result:
- 1 die: minutes
- 2 dice: hours
- 3 dice: days
- 4 dice: weeks
- 5 dice: months
- 6 dice: years
- 7 dice: centuries
Characters earn extra experience for traveling through fairy-land. Multiply the deepest dungeon level reached by a number based on the amount of time you experienced in fairy-land (as opposed to the real time rolled for above.)
- Turns: x10
- hours: x100
- days: x1000
Thursday, August 13, 2009
Eerie Gaming IV: Dungeons & Eerieness
So far, I've posted a couple adaptations of JAGS Wonderland to InSpectres. Time for something completely different: OD&D.
Traditional fairy-stories and fairy-lore are a perfect fit for the surreal tale. There's a whole land out there, somewhere, that's not on any map, with invisible entrances in hills or at the bottom of lakes that are only open sometimes. Follow an enchanting melody or a spectacularly unusual beast into the deep woods and you are likely to be "fairy-led", stumbling into this unnatural realm.
In this D&D variant, all monsters other than ordinary animals and humans come from fairy-land. Elves, dwarves, and halflings do, too; despite the differences in appearance and ability, all three are considered one group, "Fae", and are considered the same species as humans, just fae-touched. Any half- or full-fae offspring, regardless of specific parentage, has a random chance of being one of the three. Player character fae are called "changelings" and grow up in human society, possibly with no memories of fairy-land.
Magic only works as described when in fairy-land. Otherwise, spells only take effect by coincidental events: roll 1d6 per spell level for the number of days the effect is delayed.
Example 1: Read Languages allows a character to decipher codes or inscriptions in a foreign language after 2d6 days of study.
Example 2: a Fireball spell will cause a victim to burn himself 3d6 days after the spell is cast.
The delay roll is interpreted as hours instead of days if the caster performs a mundane action that would produce a similar effect.
Example 3: Casting Read Languages and then studying books on a foreign culture would allow deciphering a text in a language from that culture after 2d6 hours.
Example 4: A Cure Light Wounds cast while preparing an herbal poultice and praying continually can restore hit points after 1d6 hours.
Clerical turning is an exception. The undead are considered part of the otherworld, and it is the task of priests to keep the otherworld at bay. In fact, a cleric can attempt to turn or dispel fae creatures and phenomenon as if it were undead of the same number of hit dice. Treat minor phenomena as skeletons.
Caves, ruins, and mundane dungeons are not treated as "Dungeon Level 1," but as wilderness, stocked with vermin, wild beasts, and outlaws. Unless occupied by humans, the only traps in such places are pits and deadfalls. However, sometimes people wander into fairy-land, or are taken. It's never certain: roll dice for PCs in the following situations:
There will be more in an upcoming post.
Traditional fairy-stories and fairy-lore are a perfect fit for the surreal tale. There's a whole land out there, somewhere, that's not on any map, with invisible entrances in hills or at the bottom of lakes that are only open sometimes. Follow an enchanting melody or a spectacularly unusual beast into the deep woods and you are likely to be "fairy-led", stumbling into this unnatural realm.
In this D&D variant, all monsters other than ordinary animals and humans come from fairy-land. Elves, dwarves, and halflings do, too; despite the differences in appearance and ability, all three are considered one group, "Fae", and are considered the same species as humans, just fae-touched. Any half- or full-fae offspring, regardless of specific parentage, has a random chance of being one of the three. Player character fae are called "changelings" and grow up in human society, possibly with no memories of fairy-land.
Magic only works as described when in fairy-land. Otherwise, spells only take effect by coincidental events: roll 1d6 per spell level for the number of days the effect is delayed.
Example 1: Read Languages allows a character to decipher codes or inscriptions in a foreign language after 2d6 days of study.
Example 2: a Fireball spell will cause a victim to burn himself 3d6 days after the spell is cast.
The delay roll is interpreted as hours instead of days if the caster performs a mundane action that would produce a similar effect.
Example 3: Casting Read Languages and then studying books on a foreign culture would allow deciphering a text in a language from that culture after 2d6 hours.
Example 4: A Cure Light Wounds cast while preparing an herbal poultice and praying continually can restore hit points after 1d6 hours.
Clerical turning is an exception. The undead are considered part of the otherworld, and it is the task of priests to keep the otherworld at bay. In fact, a cleric can attempt to turn or dispel fae creatures and phenomenon as if it were undead of the same number of hit dice. Treat minor phenomena as skeletons.
Caves, ruins, and mundane dungeons are not treated as "Dungeon Level 1," but as wilderness, stocked with vermin, wild beasts, and outlaws. Unless occupied by humans, the only traps in such places are pits and deadfalls. However, sometimes people wander into fairy-land, or are taken. It's never certain: roll dice for PCs in the following situations:
- reading a magical inscription or scroll: 1d6
- traveling by twilight: 1d6
- visiting a spot known as "fae-touched": 1d6
- seeing something "fae-touched" (aside from changelings): 2d6
- being "fairy-led" or following someone who is: 3d6
- seeing or using magic: 4d6
There will be more in an upcoming post.
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
Medieval Demographics
I read this article years ago: "Medieval Demographics Made Easy", by S. John Ross. Since I am concerned about the sizes of typical settlements right now, and since someone over at Dragonsfoot just asked about this as well, I tracked this down. I've had this impression for a while that a thorp was a fishing village and a hamlet was based around an orchard, and it looks like this is where I got the idea. A village, on the other hand, was originally a farming community based around a villa or manor.
In contrast, Wikipedia is claiming that the old distinctions between a city, a town, a village, and a hamlet was primarily one of what minimum service it offered:
In contrast, Wikipedia is claiming that the old distinctions between a city, a town, a village, and a hamlet was primarily one of what minimum service it offered:
- city: cathedral
- town: livestock market
- village: church
- hamlet: no church, encorporated into a nearby town's parish
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
System vs. Mechanics
Two bloggers today wrote about system: Clash Bowley at I Fly By Night wrote about the need to tailor system to a setting, and Jeff Rients at Jeff's Gameblog begs us all to stop arguing passionately over trivial D&D system differences and just pick a version, mod it to taste, and not make a big deal about it. What I want to address is something buried deep in both posts: neither one is really talking about system, but about mechanics.
I define "mechanics" as any physical or computational procedure used to get a result in the game. Roll this die, spend these points, compare these numbers, play rochambeau... these are all mechanics. Almost every RPG player thinks of system as being identical to mechanics, in particular the resolution roll, although there are other mechanical parts to D&D in any version: the chargen mechanic and the experience mechanic, for instance.
I've argued before, though, that the resolution mechanic is the least important part of and RPG. You can substitute one mechanic for another without much trouble. You can even add mechanics for specific situations -- houserules, or setting-specific subsystems -- and the game will still be recognizable as D&D or whatever system you started with.
What you can't change, without creating a different system, is the structure. Things like "create a character with six attributes and a class and race, then send him with other characters on an adventure to defeat monsters and retrieve treasure, which earn experience that raises your character's level." It's a specific set of activities, conditional statements, taboos, and requirements that define how you play the game.
Mechanics are not System. Structure is. The bulk of the D&D system -- the real system, the structure -- has actually stayed the same, so it's pointless to argue about mechanics, even though it matters to me personally which I use. This is Jeff's point. The slight differences in the actual system (structure) between versions are another matter. One tiny change in structure matters far more than replacing all the mechanics in the game.
Don't argue about mechanics, but do argue about structure. Accept that it's OK for people to want a different system, but the systems are still different, and this is where system matters.
I define "mechanics" as any physical or computational procedure used to get a result in the game. Roll this die, spend these points, compare these numbers, play rochambeau... these are all mechanics. Almost every RPG player thinks of system as being identical to mechanics, in particular the resolution roll, although there are other mechanical parts to D&D in any version: the chargen mechanic and the experience mechanic, for instance.
I've argued before, though, that the resolution mechanic is the least important part of and RPG. You can substitute one mechanic for another without much trouble. You can even add mechanics for specific situations -- houserules, or setting-specific subsystems -- and the game will still be recognizable as D&D or whatever system you started with.
What you can't change, without creating a different system, is the structure. Things like "create a character with six attributes and a class and race, then send him with other characters on an adventure to defeat monsters and retrieve treasure, which earn experience that raises your character's level." It's a specific set of activities, conditional statements, taboos, and requirements that define how you play the game.
Mechanics are not System. Structure is. The bulk of the D&D system -- the real system, the structure -- has actually stayed the same, so it's pointless to argue about mechanics, even though it matters to me personally which I use. This is Jeff's point. The slight differences in the actual system (structure) between versions are another matter. One tiny change in structure matters far more than replacing all the mechanics in the game.
Don't argue about mechanics, but do argue about structure. Accept that it's OK for people to want a different system, but the systems are still different, and this is where system matters.
Saturday, August 8, 2009
Millennium The RPG
Along the lines of "Lost the RPG", here's an adaptation of another TV series with Terry O'Quinn in a major role: Millennium, the series about a group that appears at first to merely be consulting on serial murder cases, but turns out to be an ancient conspiracy obsessed with a coming apocalypse. Again, use either JAGS Wonderland or port it to InSpectres (or some other system.) If you are using InSpectres, you should probably use the "multiple franchises" rule I described before. If using JAGS or another build-points game, you buy a relationship or other link to a group.
Characters start in a law enforcement franchise of some kind, with no dice/points invested in the Millennium Group. They can be either uninfected or have low Unsanity. However, they usually have some minor talent similar to magic: they can catch glimpses of things on lower chessboards, or get warnings from a "guardian angel". This is what interests Millennium in the characters and triggers contact.
Characters investigate mysteries -- crimes, usually, and often violent ones -- on Chessboard 0. At first, they use their gift (and, eventually, physical resources of Millennium) for insight into horrific but otherwise mundane Chessboard 0 events. Millennium seems like just an ordinary group with extraordinary resources and a belief that the world is really getting worse, so someone needs to stop things from getting worse.
Many of the mysteries being investigated are being influenced by reflections on Chessboard 0 of things from a far deeper level. After solving several mysteries, the characters will begin to encounter these beings directly, always mistaking them for ordinary serial killers or corrupt officials (The Judge, Lucy Butler, Mabius, and other instruments of the demon Legion.) These beings can perform limited breeches of natural law and thus will usually lead to infection or trigger episodes, sending characters down to Chessboard 1.
However, in addition to individual mysteries, there's a big meta-mystery, the Conspiracy. The real explanation of what Millennium is up to. This is tracked with a separate Conspiracy score that starts at 0 points (or dice, in InSpectres terms.) Although mundane mysteries and even mundane conspiracies can be solved on Chessboard 0, the big Conspiracy can only be solved by having episodes. Investigating Millennium on Chessboard 0 results in inexplicable discoveries; investigating on a lower chessboard earns points/dice to add to the Conspiracy score. When it reaches a GM-determined level (usually 10,) the Conspiracy is mostly solved.
Episodes are limited to Chessboard 1 until the Conspiracy rating rises. In general, characters can descend one chessboard deeper every time the Conspiracy rating doubles. The deeper the episode, the shorter it lasts; Millennium focuses mainly on the effects of the deeper levels on Chessboard 0.
Once Conspiracy reaches 1, characters will notice that fully-made Millennium members have more control over episodes than most infected. They all have at least Advanced levels of Mastery, up to full Master level for characters like The Old Man. They also have access to "magic" based on shadow control, generally expressed as prophetic knowledge, clairvoyance, or seeming control over coincidence and probability (witness the "accident" that kills Frank Black's friend from The Trust, or Lara Mean's obsession with rolling dice when she becomes a full member.)
As Conspiracy rises, characters will become aware of factions within Millennium (Owls versus Roosters, for example,) schisms (The Family,) and rivals (Odessa.) The game will change from simple criminal investigation to a war over the future of mankind.
Characters start in a law enforcement franchise of some kind, with no dice/points invested in the Millennium Group. They can be either uninfected or have low Unsanity. However, they usually have some minor talent similar to magic: they can catch glimpses of things on lower chessboards, or get warnings from a "guardian angel". This is what interests Millennium in the characters and triggers contact.
Characters investigate mysteries -- crimes, usually, and often violent ones -- on Chessboard 0. At first, they use their gift (and, eventually, physical resources of Millennium) for insight into horrific but otherwise mundane Chessboard 0 events. Millennium seems like just an ordinary group with extraordinary resources and a belief that the world is really getting worse, so someone needs to stop things from getting worse.
Many of the mysteries being investigated are being influenced by reflections on Chessboard 0 of things from a far deeper level. After solving several mysteries, the characters will begin to encounter these beings directly, always mistaking them for ordinary serial killers or corrupt officials (The Judge, Lucy Butler, Mabius, and other instruments of the demon Legion.) These beings can perform limited breeches of natural law and thus will usually lead to infection or trigger episodes, sending characters down to Chessboard 1.
However, in addition to individual mysteries, there's a big meta-mystery, the Conspiracy. The real explanation of what Millennium is up to. This is tracked with a separate Conspiracy score that starts at 0 points (or dice, in InSpectres terms.) Although mundane mysteries and even mundane conspiracies can be solved on Chessboard 0, the big Conspiracy can only be solved by having episodes. Investigating Millennium on Chessboard 0 results in inexplicable discoveries; investigating on a lower chessboard earns points/dice to add to the Conspiracy score. When it reaches a GM-determined level (usually 10,) the Conspiracy is mostly solved.
Episodes are limited to Chessboard 1 until the Conspiracy rating rises. In general, characters can descend one chessboard deeper every time the Conspiracy rating doubles. The deeper the episode, the shorter it lasts; Millennium focuses mainly on the effects of the deeper levels on Chessboard 0.
Once Conspiracy reaches 1, characters will notice that fully-made Millennium members have more control over episodes than most infected. They all have at least Advanced levels of Mastery, up to full Master level for characters like The Old Man. They also have access to "magic" based on shadow control, generally expressed as prophetic knowledge, clairvoyance, or seeming control over coincidence and probability (witness the "accident" that kills Frank Black's friend from The Trust, or Lara Mean's obsession with rolling dice when she becomes a full member.)
As Conspiracy rises, characters will become aware of factions within Millennium (Owls versus Roosters, for example,) schisms (The Family,) and rivals (Odessa.) The game will change from simple criminal investigation to a war over the future of mankind.
Friday, August 7, 2009
The Power of Shopping Lists
I'm sure everyone's noticed by now the sharp divide between gamers who want open-ended systems ("rulings, not rules") and those who want more detail, more balance, and more design built into the system. This argument has only been going on for, what, a couple decades? The first group like adaptability and complain about rules that straight-jacket the imagination. The second complains about the arbitrary nature of open-ended systems, the potential for abuse by GMs, and the lack of guidance for a new GM.
I'm not going to talk about which side is right, here.
Instead, I'm going to point out something. Something you can do with a stricter set of rules that has detailed lists of traits, feats, skills, classes, races, spells, and powers.
Players can plan.
If you have an open-ended system that players and game masters can improvise with, character can do practically anything. All it requires is a GM ruling, perhaps some group discussion. But by that same token, in between sessions, there's no way to determine what you can do. If you're a GM reading an open-ended rulebook, you can get an idea and say, "hmm, I think I'll do that this way." If you're a player and you get an idea for something that's not in the rulebook, you have to wait and ask the GM if you can do that, and how. Since things outside the rulebook aren't set in stone, you can't really plan ahead too far.
But the more complete a rule system attempts to be, the more you as a player can use the rules to "play between sessions". You can go shopping, either literally using equipment lists or figuratively using spell, power, and skill lists. You can try out various "character builds". Character creation becomes practically a game in itself. Sometimes, you can literally play between sessions; TFT had a job/income system back in 1980, and some games had random event systems that could be used during downtime.
I am a great lover of the open-ended approach and dislike the list approach. Still, I have to acknowledge that systems with strong character-building emphasis and detailed lists of available abilities tap into a powerful desire that lighter systems have trouble fulfilling.
I'm not going to talk about which side is right, here.
Instead, I'm going to point out something. Something you can do with a stricter set of rules that has detailed lists of traits, feats, skills, classes, races, spells, and powers.
Players can plan.
If you have an open-ended system that players and game masters can improvise with, character can do practically anything. All it requires is a GM ruling, perhaps some group discussion. But by that same token, in between sessions, there's no way to determine what you can do. If you're a GM reading an open-ended rulebook, you can get an idea and say, "hmm, I think I'll do that this way." If you're a player and you get an idea for something that's not in the rulebook, you have to wait and ask the GM if you can do that, and how. Since things outside the rulebook aren't set in stone, you can't really plan ahead too far.
But the more complete a rule system attempts to be, the more you as a player can use the rules to "play between sessions". You can go shopping, either literally using equipment lists or figuratively using spell, power, and skill lists. You can try out various "character builds". Character creation becomes practically a game in itself. Sometimes, you can literally play between sessions; TFT had a job/income system back in 1980, and some games had random event systems that could be used during downtime.
I am a great lover of the open-ended approach and dislike the list approach. Still, I have to acknowledge that systems with strong character-building emphasis and detailed lists of available abilities tap into a powerful desire that lighter systems have trouble fulfilling.
Lost: the RPG
I and a couple other people have said on several occasions that JAGS Wonderland can be used to recreate a number of novels,.movies, and television shows featuring a multilayered reality that causes the main characters to question their sanity or understanding. For example, the TV series Lost. Here's how you could run a Lost game using either JAGS Wonderland or InSpectres.
Whip up some characters involved in a plane crash. Each player details one character, but there are several other survivors who can be left faceless/nameless or given just a one-line description, to be expanded as needed or turned into replacements for retired or deceased PCs. None of the initial PCs is infected, but they may have had borderline experiences in their past.
Unlike the rest of the world, any stress on the island could cause infection, as long as it occurs when a character is isolated. Once infected, characters can have episodes even when in someone else's presence, and this can potentially infect others.
Forces or beings on a deep chessboard are present on the island. For the most part, their actions manifest as coincidences on chessboard 0. Thinking too hard about these coincidences can potentially lead to Unsanity.
Some regions of the island have even weirder manifestations of the actions of these deep forces and creatures. The Smoke Monster would be one example; it only rarely appears, and then only in the Dark Territory. Richard would be another deep-chessboard inhabitant, although his chessboard 0 appearance seems almost normal.
The island is also inhabited by infected people -- the Others. These people are aware of at least the first and second chessboard and exploit it to move unseen, speak a previously unknown language, find unexpected resources, or learn information about castaways. In game terms, they are "normal" people who have Mastery and one or two "magic" talents.
If using InSpectres, confessionals would be a great way to handle flashbacks and flashforwards.
It seems best to disregard most of the "facts" of Lost and instead, make up mysteries as needed, and improvise answers (that always lead to new mysteries.)
Whip up some characters involved in a plane crash. Each player details one character, but there are several other survivors who can be left faceless/nameless or given just a one-line description, to be expanded as needed or turned into replacements for retired or deceased PCs. None of the initial PCs is infected, but they may have had borderline experiences in their past.
Unlike the rest of the world, any stress on the island could cause infection, as long as it occurs when a character is isolated. Once infected, characters can have episodes even when in someone else's presence, and this can potentially infect others.
Forces or beings on a deep chessboard are present on the island. For the most part, their actions manifest as coincidences on chessboard 0. Thinking too hard about these coincidences can potentially lead to Unsanity.
Some regions of the island have even weirder manifestations of the actions of these deep forces and creatures. The Smoke Monster would be one example; it only rarely appears, and then only in the Dark Territory. Richard would be another deep-chessboard inhabitant, although his chessboard 0 appearance seems almost normal.
The island is also inhabited by infected people -- the Others. These people are aware of at least the first and second chessboard and exploit it to move unseen, speak a previously unknown language, find unexpected resources, or learn information about castaways. In game terms, they are "normal" people who have Mastery and one or two "magic" talents.
If using InSpectres, confessionals would be a great way to handle flashbacks and flashforwards.
It seems best to disregard most of the "facts" of Lost and instead, make up mysteries as needed, and improvise answers (that always lead to new mysteries.)
Thursday, August 6, 2009
New Abilities
In my post about blind-fighting, I hinted at an improvised house rules system to gain new abilities in OD&D, based around one or both of these techniques:
A few abilities would eliminate risks from a specific kind of action, like the blind-fighting example, or provide a bonus on a specific kind of roll, like a Stealth ability (hide in shadows or move silently) that adds 1 to the chance to surprise. None of the "bonus" abilities would stack; there wouldn't be levels of Stealth, for example.
I would work up a short list of likely abilities, but most could be improvised with these guidelines as needed. A player wants an ability to catch thrown weapons in flight? Fine, just figure out what the risk would be for an ordinary character to do that, then let the "spear-snatch" ability eliminate that risk. It's up to the PCs to find someone or some way to help them train, and up to the GM to decide how much it will cost, or if there are risks during training.
- GM sets a price in gold pieces for one week of training, player rolls a d20 or 3d6 Intelligence check; success means ability is gained, failure means the character is still studying;
- Player notes that a character is studying an ability; when the character gains enough experience to gain a level, the player can opt to add one studied ability instead, resetting experience points to the start of the current level.
A few abilities would eliminate risks from a specific kind of action, like the blind-fighting example, or provide a bonus on a specific kind of roll, like a Stealth ability (hide in shadows or move silently) that adds 1 to the chance to surprise. None of the "bonus" abilities would stack; there wouldn't be levels of Stealth, for example.
I would work up a short list of likely abilities, but most could be improvised with these guidelines as needed. A player wants an ability to catch thrown weapons in flight? Fine, just figure out what the risk would be for an ordinary character to do that, then let the "spear-snatch" ability eliminate that risk. It's up to the PCs to find someone or some way to help them train, and up to the GM to decide how much it will cost, or if there are risks during training.
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
Blog Carnival: Carnival of Souls The RPG
I decided to try joining the Blog Carnival for the first time. The topic is "festivals and carnivals". Since I've been writing about InSpectres recently, the only game I ever ran at a convention, and since I've also been writing about surrealism and "eerie gaming", I thought I'd combine the three ideas into "Carnival of Souls The RPG".
Carnival of Souls is a semi-obscure horror movie from the '60s. It looks and feels a lot like a Twilight Zone episode: the sole survivor of a fatal car crash tries to forget about it and get on with her life, but weird things begin to happen to her... This game starts with the same basic concept: the characters have all been involved in a catastrophic accident and escaped.
The base rules are the UnSpeakable variant of InSpectres. Disregard the "UnSpeakable Skills" (they're too Lovecraftian.) Keep Sanity. Each character has one talent, something they care deeply about, either their job ("church organist") or a hobby ("mystery novels") or activity ("chatting up strangers".)
Start with a Pit of 10-20 dice. In addition to the Pit, there's another pool of dice that starts out empty, called The Carnival. Every time a character loses Sanity, add one die to The Carnival. A high 1 roll for physically dangerous actions means death, but only if the character's Sanity is lower than the Carnival dice. Otherwise, the character nearly dies, but miraculously survives; the unsettling nature of their escape from death requires a Sanity roll against Dark Despair.
There is also a real abandoned carnival or amusement park at the outskirts of town. It, too, is unsettling, and requires Sanity rolls: 1 die for first daytime and nighttime encounters, half Sanity dice for actually entering the carnival, further rolls for unsettling events that occur there. Any time the character walks, runs, or drives anywhere, roll at least 1 Sanity die. If they lose a point of Sanity, they somehow wind up at the abandoned carnival.
Any time a character uses their talent (plays the organ, for the church organist,) they are in danger of entering an eerie trance. Roll a Sanity die; the character is entranced on a 1; they will behave oddly or even sinisterly while ignoring their surroundings. Any PC who witnesses an entranced character must also roll for Sanity.
If a player needs an extra die to roll for an action, they can use one Carnival die. However, any high 1 or 2 result when using a Carnival die means that The Man shows up. He is a mysterious, sinister-looking figure who cannot be seen except by the PCs. His appearance always requires a Sanity roll against Dark Despair, at the very least. He will not communicate or interact directly with the characters the first time he appears, just stare. He becomes more direct each time he appears; if he appears when there are at least 3 Carnival dice remaining, from now on he will pursue PCs when he appears. The first time he appears at the abandoned carnival, he will begin to openly communicate. A roll of 6 on any action will cause him to disappear.
When a character loses all Sanity, the Man appears again. From that point on, he can be temporarily evaded like any other pursuer, but he will mysteriously catch up any time a 1 or 2 is rolled on an action. Remember, rolling a 1 on a dangerous action at this point will mean death.
The PCs are supposed to be dead, of course, but something is keeping them in the world of the living unnaturally. For one, their dead bodies weren't recovered. There may also be something they need to finish. The exact task is left open, to be investigated like a mystery. Every roll of 6 while investigating the mystery earns one Mystery point. Once 10 points are earned, any characters who are still sane get a second chance on life, while those who have lost all Sanity vanish; their dead bodies are then found, and their spirits join The Carnival.
Carnival of Souls is a semi-obscure horror movie from the '60s. It looks and feels a lot like a Twilight Zone episode: the sole survivor of a fatal car crash tries to forget about it and get on with her life, but weird things begin to happen to her... This game starts with the same basic concept: the characters have all been involved in a catastrophic accident and escaped.
The base rules are the UnSpeakable variant of InSpectres. Disregard the "UnSpeakable Skills" (they're too Lovecraftian.) Keep Sanity. Each character has one talent, something they care deeply about, either their job ("church organist") or a hobby ("mystery novels") or activity ("chatting up strangers".)
Start with a Pit of 10-20 dice. In addition to the Pit, there's another pool of dice that starts out empty, called The Carnival. Every time a character loses Sanity, add one die to The Carnival. A high 1 roll for physically dangerous actions means death, but only if the character's Sanity is lower than the Carnival dice. Otherwise, the character nearly dies, but miraculously survives; the unsettling nature of their escape from death requires a Sanity roll against Dark Despair.
There is also a real abandoned carnival or amusement park at the outskirts of town. It, too, is unsettling, and requires Sanity rolls: 1 die for first daytime and nighttime encounters, half Sanity dice for actually entering the carnival, further rolls for unsettling events that occur there. Any time the character walks, runs, or drives anywhere, roll at least 1 Sanity die. If they lose a point of Sanity, they somehow wind up at the abandoned carnival.
Any time a character uses their talent (plays the organ, for the church organist,) they are in danger of entering an eerie trance. Roll a Sanity die; the character is entranced on a 1; they will behave oddly or even sinisterly while ignoring their surroundings. Any PC who witnesses an entranced character must also roll for Sanity.
If a player needs an extra die to roll for an action, they can use one Carnival die. However, any high 1 or 2 result when using a Carnival die means that The Man shows up. He is a mysterious, sinister-looking figure who cannot be seen except by the PCs. His appearance always requires a Sanity roll against Dark Despair, at the very least. He will not communicate or interact directly with the characters the first time he appears, just stare. He becomes more direct each time he appears; if he appears when there are at least 3 Carnival dice remaining, from now on he will pursue PCs when he appears. The first time he appears at the abandoned carnival, he will begin to openly communicate. A roll of 6 on any action will cause him to disappear.
When a character loses all Sanity, the Man appears again. From that point on, he can be temporarily evaded like any other pursuer, but he will mysteriously catch up any time a 1 or 2 is rolled on an action. Remember, rolling a 1 on a dangerous action at this point will mean death.
The PCs are supposed to be dead, of course, but something is keeping them in the world of the living unnaturally. For one, their dead bodies weren't recovered. There may also be something they need to finish. The exact task is left open, to be investigated like a mystery. Every roll of 6 while investigating the mystery earns one Mystery point. Once 10 points are earned, any characters who are still sane get a second chance on life, while those who have lost all Sanity vanish; their dead bodies are then found, and their spirits join The Carnival.
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
Easy Damage Tracking
As I've already hinted, I hate having to erase and recalculate repeatedly. It wears out character sheets, for example. Damage is a big offender here. My solution isn't exactly original; I'm sure others have done it, and I was inspired to do it when I read how Sorcerer tracks damage.
Write your total hit points on your character sheet as normal. Do not change this except when your character's level changes (or any other time your character's maximum hit points changes.)
Get a sheet of scratch paper at the beginning of the expedition. Label it "damage". When you take damage, mark tally marks on this sheet. Use the common practice of marking four tallies, then crossing these diagonally to make the fifth tally mark (it makes it easier to count.) Put two groups of five on each line. When total damage is greater than or equal to hit points, your character is dead (or unconscious, or whatever your specific system says.)
If you follow the "ten damage to a line" convention, you can pre-mark the scratch sheet to avoid counting tally-marks during play. Drop the last digit of your hit points; count down that many lines on the scratch sheet, then draw a horizontal line. When tally marks reach that line, the next few points of damage are your last.
Only erase tally marks when the character is healed. To completely avoid erasing, divide the sheet in two vertically and label the other side "Healing". Mark healed hit points the same way as damage. You can now eyeball your character's state of health. When the two sides are equal, your character is at full health. When there's more tally marks on the damage side, your character is wounded. Unfortunately, this means you can't pre-mark your near-death state as just described, but it's still pretty simple.
Write your total hit points on your character sheet as normal. Do not change this except when your character's level changes (or any other time your character's maximum hit points changes.)
Get a sheet of scratch paper at the beginning of the expedition. Label it "damage". When you take damage, mark tally marks on this sheet. Use the common practice of marking four tallies, then crossing these diagonally to make the fifth tally mark (it makes it easier to count.) Put two groups of five on each line. When total damage is greater than or equal to hit points, your character is dead (or unconscious, or whatever your specific system says.)
If you follow the "ten damage to a line" convention, you can pre-mark the scratch sheet to avoid counting tally-marks during play. Drop the last digit of your hit points; count down that many lines on the scratch sheet, then draw a horizontal line. When tally marks reach that line, the next few points of damage are your last.
Only erase tally marks when the character is healed. To completely avoid erasing, divide the sheet in two vertically and label the other side "Healing". Mark healed hit points the same way as damage. You can now eyeball your character's state of health. When the two sides are equal, your character is at full health. When there's more tally marks on the damage side, your character is wounded. Unfortunately, this means you can't pre-mark your near-death state as just described, but it's still pretty simple.
Monday, August 3, 2009
AD&D 2e
There's apparently some ruckus going on about AD&D 2e and whether or not it was a sign of the apocalypse, so I've decided to continue my previous post about game opinions and weigh in on 2e. I don't have much to say about it; I remember reading the build-up to 2e in Dragon magazine, where they ran a poll asking what the consumers wanted and announced that *anything* could change, if the poll showed people wanted change. There was a follow-up several issues later that mentioned a huge outpouring of hatred for Vancian magic, but TSR announced they would not in fact be changing that part at all.
Now, I like Vancian magic a bit, although I sometimes want it to be toned down. But a company asking their customers' opinions, then pointedly stating they didn't care about those opinions, strikes me as odd. I felt this was a bad sign.
Still, I bought the 2e Player's Handbook. I remember thinking a few tiny bits were interesting (I believe clerics were a little more flexible, and they had a magic specialization system,) but as far as I could tell, the only real changes were a different layout, purged "demonic" references, and enough tiny numeric changes to make people have to buy new books.
So, I gave up on 2e. I did see a ton of 2e books in the stores, but that struck me as a downside, not a benefit. Leafing through the various "player options" in particular wasn't encouraging.
Much later, I played in a D&D game that the GM announced was a 1e/2e hybrid. I don't think I noticed any changes, although I think he was using a 2e module.
So, my conclusions about 2e: I just don't see the point.
Now, I like Vancian magic a bit, although I sometimes want it to be toned down. But a company asking their customers' opinions, then pointedly stating they didn't care about those opinions, strikes me as odd. I felt this was a bad sign.
Still, I bought the 2e Player's Handbook. I remember thinking a few tiny bits were interesting (I believe clerics were a little more flexible, and they had a magic specialization system,) but as far as I could tell, the only real changes were a different layout, purged "demonic" references, and enough tiny numeric changes to make people have to buy new books.
So, I gave up on 2e. I did see a ton of 2e books in the stores, but that struck me as a downside, not a benefit. Leafing through the various "player options" in particular wasn't encouraging.
Much later, I played in a D&D game that the GM announced was a 1e/2e hybrid. I don't think I noticed any changes, although I think he was using a 2e module.
So, my conclusions about 2e: I just don't see the point.
Sunday, August 2, 2009
Eerie Gaming III: Unsanity
In the previous post on using InSpectres to play JAGS Wonderland, I described what happens when Stress is higher than Unsanity, but I didn't describe how Unsanity increases from its starting level (0 for ordinary people, 1 for those already infected.) That's because there are several options, each with a different feel.
The simplest is: Unsanity equals the highest Stress level the character has ever had. If a character gains 3 Stress, Unsanity becomes 3 as well. If the character heals the stress, then gains 2 Stress, Unsanity is still 3. If the character then gains 2 more Stress without being healed, Stress and Unsanity are now both 4. This is pretty simple, but very hard on characters. Pretty much everyone would wind up infected if the universe worked that way.
Option 2: if Stress increases while being exposed to unreal or fantastic elements or events, Unsanity goes up by 1 point (and Sanity therefore goes down by 1 point.) Once infected, any kind of stress can trigger an Episode, but only the five triggering events previously listed can cause an increase in Unsanity. With this option, only the mentally ill and hallucinogenic drug users are likely to become spontaneously infected, with occultists coming in second. Other people become infected when exposed to those already having Episodes.
Option 3: players choose when to become more infected by buying off high levels of Stress with Sanity, perhaps at a 5:1 ratio. This has the benefit of giving players more control, but risks having no one becoming infected unless the GM rides the characters hard, hitting them with high stress rolls. The GM can also lure characters to the dark side by having a lot of NPCs with Wonderland-inspired abilities; in order to defeat the NPCs, the players may have to give in to Unsanity.
The simplest is: Unsanity equals the highest Stress level the character has ever had. If a character gains 3 Stress, Unsanity becomes 3 as well. If the character heals the stress, then gains 2 Stress, Unsanity is still 3. If the character then gains 2 more Stress without being healed, Stress and Unsanity are now both 4. This is pretty simple, but very hard on characters. Pretty much everyone would wind up infected if the universe worked that way.
Option 2: if Stress increases while being exposed to unreal or fantastic elements or events, Unsanity goes up by 1 point (and Sanity therefore goes down by 1 point.) Once infected, any kind of stress can trigger an Episode, but only the five triggering events previously listed can cause an increase in Unsanity. With this option, only the mentally ill and hallucinogenic drug users are likely to become spontaneously infected, with occultists coming in second. Other people become infected when exposed to those already having Episodes.
Option 3: players choose when to become more infected by buying off high levels of Stress with Sanity, perhaps at a 5:1 ratio. This has the benefit of giving players more control, but risks having no one becoming infected unless the GM rides the characters hard, hitting them with high stress rolls. The GM can also lure characters to the dark side by having a lot of NPCs with Wonderland-inspired abilities; in order to defeat the NPCs, the players may have to give in to Unsanity.
Saturday, August 1, 2009
Eerie Gaming II: Using InSpectres
In my previous Eerie Gaming post, I talked about how great JAGS Wonderland is, but mentioned I wouldn't run it with JAGS. These days, I prefer games that I can make quick rulings on without consulting rulebooks. So what would I use? I have a couple ideas. Here's one I've suggested before: InSpectres. I originally posted my ideas for running Wonderland in InSpectres on Story Games, but I can't find a link to my post and I think you'd need to log in to read it, anyways; this post will cover the basics of how I'd do it.
Characters: either build 'em with 9 dice as in standard Inspectres or with just one skill as in the UnSpeakable variant for a grittier feel. There are two additional skills, Sanity and Unsanity. Split 10 points between them; if Sanity is 10, the character is uninfected. Cool is renamed to Mastery.
Franchises: standard rules, but keep the starting dice small; instead of representing the franchise's total resources, the dice represent how much the characters can get from that franchise without giving anything in return. Also, it's possible to have multiple franchises or join new franchises during play; these can be support groups, rebel networks, investigative groups, or government agencies.
Plot Points: you do not earn mission dice, you earn plot points; one point on a skill roll of 5, two points on a 6. You can spend plot points to renew Cool/Mastery, invest in a franchise, or make a Wonderland advantage permanent ("bring something back", get a beneficial mutation, etc.)
Stress: if you accrue more stress than your Sanity score, you have an Episode. If your stress drops below your Unsanity, the Episode "thins out" and will end soon, the next time you roll a 5 or 6 while performing an ordinary action. In addition to the common forms of stress, make stress rolls for triggering events as well:
Episodes: if Stress is more than Unsanity, a character can only end an Episode by spending Cool/Mastery to roll dice (5 or 6 ends the Episode, 4 reduces Stress by one level.) A character can also force an Episode by spending Mastery to roll dice.
Dissociation: your reflection is another character with no dice to roll. To affect dissociation, use the aiding/teamwork rules to lend a die result to your reflection. If you are only rolling 1 die, you can opt to describe what you are trying to do in Wonderland, roll the die, and then take the automatic 1 in Wonderland, using the die result instead to describe what your reflection does in the real world. If you have more than one die to roll, you can use one result for your Wonderland action and one for your reflection's action. The standard InSpectres die results correlate to the Wonderland Dissociation levels:
Characters: either build 'em with 9 dice as in standard Inspectres or with just one skill as in the UnSpeakable variant for a grittier feel. There are two additional skills, Sanity and Unsanity. Split 10 points between them; if Sanity is 10, the character is uninfected. Cool is renamed to Mastery.
Franchises: standard rules, but keep the starting dice small; instead of representing the franchise's total resources, the dice represent how much the characters can get from that franchise without giving anything in return. Also, it's possible to have multiple franchises or join new franchises during play; these can be support groups, rebel networks, investigative groups, or government agencies.
Plot Points: you do not earn mission dice, you earn plot points; one point on a skill roll of 5, two points on a 6. You can spend plot points to renew Cool/Mastery, invest in a franchise, or make a Wonderland advantage permanent ("bring something back", get a beneficial mutation, etc.)
Stress: if you accrue more stress than your Sanity score, you have an Episode. If your stress drops below your Unsanity, the Episode "thins out" and will end soon, the next time you roll a 5 or 6 while performing an ordinary action. In addition to the common forms of stress, make stress rolls for triggering events as well:
- watching or reading surreal or fantastic media, daydreaming: 1 die
- witnessing or interacting with someone having an Episode: 2 dice
- letting curiosity about the unexplained draw you in: 3 dice
- major mind-altering effects, like taking drugs: 4 dice
- witnessing the impossible: 5 dice
Episodes: if Stress is more than Unsanity, a character can only end an Episode by spending Cool/Mastery to roll dice (5 or 6 ends the Episode, 4 reduces Stress by one level.) A character can also force an Episode by spending Mastery to roll dice.
Dissociation: your reflection is another character with no dice to roll. To affect dissociation, use the aiding/teamwork rules to lend a die result to your reflection. If you are only rolling 1 die, you can opt to describe what you are trying to do in Wonderland, roll the die, and then take the automatic 1 in Wonderland, using the die result instead to describe what your reflection does in the real world. If you have more than one die to roll, you can use one result for your Wonderland action and one for your reflection's action. The standard InSpectres die results correlate to the Wonderland Dissociation levels:
- 1-2: Total GM control = Complete Dissociation. The GM describes what the reflection does.
- 3: Partial GM control = Major Dissociation. The GM describes what the reflection does, but the player can suggest a minor effect of the Wonderland events on the real world.
- 4: Partial player control = Moderate Dissociation. The player can describe a limited effect of Wonderland on the real world.
- 5: Player control = Minor Dissociation. The player's action succeeds in the real world, too, but without any impossible effects.
- 6: Total player control = Complete Association. The impossible happens.
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