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dailyadventureprompts · 4 years

Note

Could you impart advice on creating memorable adventures and campaigns?

Ok so my thoughts on this ended up becoming a bit long for a single post, so I decided to split it up and throw in a few example prompts along with it, you’ll be able to find them all in my “Drafting an Adventure” tag below over the next couple days.

Drafting an Adventure, Step 1: Making them Care

First and foremost, figure out an emotional appeal, and be sure to start with it: D&D as a game is only so fun, but the actual STORIES you end up creating and sharing with your friends are the real draw, they’re what you’re going to remember YEARS down the line and they’re predicated on getting your audience to care about the tale you’re creating with them.

I can’t tell you how many d&d adventures I’ve seen fall flat because their hook is based purely on in game rewards, or because they sold themselves on emulating a genre without ever understanding the FEELING that genre was built around. So many DMs spend all their time working on the lore of their world, but fail to provide the smallest accommodations to make players feel welcome and involved in the story being told.

Say the Dm wants to introduce a lich villain the party is going to face off with somewhere down the line, so they have undead rising from a local tomb and offer the players a reward for exterminating them. This is going to send them into a dungeon, have them face off against successive waves of creepier and creepier skeletons, until they get to the boss skeleton, and get some insight into the lich’s existence. BORING, no one cares, there’s no stakes, there’s absolutely no emotional bond between the players, the lich, the town, or even the enemies themselves, all there is the obligation to go on the adventure because its there, and the vague promise of more fun later in the form of gold and XP

Here’s a better version:

The party is in town for a festival (reason to be in this particular spot at this time, the promise of fun) celebrating the end of a war some decades ago ( history, useful later, not important, but you can use it for hooks) . They meet some amusing npcs at the festival/get to see their allies having fun ( emotional hook with the world) and goof of a bit with festive games and antics ( lightweight challenges that let your players express what’s fun about their character).

Suddenly, a throng of skeletons in rusting armor attack the festival, people scream, everything is chaos, and our drunken heroes must rise to the occasion! ( a unique combat encounter with the party intoxicated, caught of guard, and disorganized, set against an intriguing background and imperiling both their own enjoyment AND the NPCS we’ve grown to like).

After the battling bones are dispatched, the party is left with the challenge of figuring out where they came from, and why, ( mechanical variation, going from hijinx to combat to investigation), which eventually leads them to a nearby ruined fortress that played an important role in the war ( backstory hook paying off, also time for a dungeon). Exploring the ruins leads the party to encounter more undead soldiers, and the necromancer who raises them by calling upon their rage at being slaughtered and defeated ( likely setting up a campaign theme of lost causes, and the human costs that are forgotten after victory is achieved). The villain warns them that these soldiers are intended as a gift for the necromancer’s unseen master ( hey look, another plothook, possibly including OTHER apprentice badguys looking to pay tribute to our eventual arch-villain) and that disturbing the process will make the party enemies of a force far greater than them ( now a legit choice, do the heroes kick the hornet's nest?) . They slay the necromancer or accept his bribe, and then return back to town with a lot more questions than they started with.

See how much more rich that is, how many more opportunities the players have to become invested, regardless of what aspect of the D&D experience brings them to the table? If you ran this adventure the “traditional” way, it’d be a quick stop in at the local tavern or a notice-board bounty, then a session or two of slogging through a dank ruin fighting same-y enemies that the players and their characters don’t honestly care about. This way, you’ve given the party a whole host of things to care about:

A chance to bond with each other and with NPCS at the festival

An interest in the setting, and how the war relates to the wider campaign lore

Their reputation as vanquishers of the undead and saviors of the town, which you can leverage into future adventures.

The threat of an enemy gathering power somewhere out in the world.

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loquaciousquark · 5 years

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Talks Machina Highlights - Critical Role C2E91 (Jan. 21, 2020)

Good evening, everyone! Sorry about missing last week; @eponymous-rose was out of town and I had some other commitments. Regardless, here we are! Brian is looking handsome and cold, as are Sam & Travis on the couch. Everyone is wearing coats. Is the heat broken?

That said, tonight’s guests are Travis Willingham & Sam Riegel.

Brian starts us off asking Sam if he’s remaking the Wire in Beverly Hills. Sam basically embodies that hello fellow kids meme tonight in a hand-knitted beanie from his wife, a bomber jacket, a yellow tee, and skinny jeans. They quickly photoshop in smoke trailing out of his mouth. We’re just a few minutes in and this is off the rails already.

Announcements: The next issue (#5) of Vox Machina comics comes out Wednesday, Feb. 19! It’s also available online at Dark Horse Digital and Comixology. And that’s it! Huh.

Episode 91: Stone to Clay

Brian tells us this is the first time ever to have Sam & Travis alone on Talks. I’m stunned and so are they. Sam says, “between me, Brian, Dani, and Travis right now, there’s four tens on this show right now.”

We’re already into questions less than ten minutes into the show. Truly this is a remarkable night.

63 in game days and 21 episodes passed between Caduceus’s first mention of Stone (episode 71) and Fjord connecting the dots. Travis blames the internet connection and his really bad ADHD night, as that was the night he and Laura remoted in from the hotel.

Brian tells us that when Ashley used to skype in, she could only see Matt & couldn’t see or really hear anyone else.

Travis says there was a huge delay for him between mouths moving and the audio coming through, and then that audio was pretty distorted. Laura could handle it okay, but Travis just heard a jumble and couldn’t parse it.

Sam took a CBD bath the other day and found it exactly as relaxing as a normal bath. Sam & Travis commiserate about taking baths only to have their knees pop out of the water. Tall people problems smh

Caleb & Nott completed the spell in less than a week, including dealing with the Angel of Irons & brokering peace treaties. Travis though the laughter was going to be Helas.

Travis says he definitely didn’t hear the name the first time (he remembered dust but not stone from the lava pits). “Look! Yes! No, I was not listening before! Thursday nights are my times to enjoy my friends and food! Marisha is an amazing note-taker; why would I ever take my own? This is how I got through college!”

Sam says he keeps a mission checklist in his head and has for ages. He has a page in his notebook labeled “To Do” that includes things like visiting Kiri or Shakaste, in case they have downtime and need ideas.

Travis asks if he continues writing in his (apparently) very small handwriting, and Sam says he has to leave room for Laura to draw all her dicks. They all marvel that she is actually a very good artist.

Travis honestly still thinks the Stone name is a huge coincidence, especially since Taliesin didn’t have access to Fjord’s last name when he created Caduceus’s last name and backstory. Sam challenges Travis that even if that were true, doesn’t he think Matt will find a way to tie it together?

Travis says Fjord doesn’t want anything to do with the last name and it’s not even his real name. He’s not convinced this isn’t a coincidence.

Travis did a lot of research into orphanage naming conventions when coming up with Stone. He does have a backstory as to how the orphanage manager picked Stone as his name.

Travis thinks Matt would have emphasized the Stone name more sooner if it had been a true connection and not coincidence.

Brian: “He does like to take credit for coincidences, doesn’t he?”

Nott didn’t think there was a catch in the ritual; Sam was more surprised they were allowed to achieve the milestone at all. He was shocked it happened so soon in the story and that the spell is relatively easy to cast.

He didn’t know it would fail, but there was a moment when he wasn’t sure if he wanted to go through with it. Travis agrees everyone was shocked when it didn’t work.

Fjord’s current stance on faith and destiny hasn’t changed since the last time he discussed it. Faith is a slow thing for Fjord and he really does think the name is a coincidence.

Sam as a player is excited to see what comes next for Nott; “if she had been transformed into Veth at that moment, I would have been excited to see what comes next. The fact that it’s still Nott makes me excited too. I’m excited to see more of Nott since she’s the best character in the M9.” He also confesses he was a bit relieved, in part because it’s delayed the inevitable. At some point she must decide if she is going to stay or go with the M9.

Cosplay of the Week: @kajicosplays on instagram of a lovely lady Percy. Brian: “Isn’t it fun when Taliesin’s characters live?”

Deep down, Nott knows she will do the transformation at some point, but at that last moment where she had to make a decision she had to check in with herself to make sure she was ready. Sam Riegel as a D&D player also knows that you have to trust your DM and make choices.

Brian misreads the word “ribbing.” Sam teaches Travis what rimming is. We all learn a lot about each other.

Sam thinks Fjord can realize when the time comes to set jokes aside. He thinks Fjord was very respectful. Travis has honestly forgotten that the conversation took place.

Travis has Dani answer from Fjord’s perspective. It’s actually pretty insightful, talking about how Fjord recognized someone hesitant to give up these newfound powers that have become intrinsically tied to self-worth.

Fjord has always been loyal, and Travis sees his protectiveness of the M9 as a logical extension of this.

Right now, he has found some agency & self-direction and is hopeful to share that sense with everyone else (he especially mentions Yasha).

Sam & Travis start quoting from Half-Baked. This is chaos.

Nott does want to stay with the M9, but she also wants to go home for sure, both of those things. The kiss with Caleb wasn’t necessarily a goodbye; it felt like the closing of a chapter. It felt like something to mark the end of the experience.

Now they’re quoting Beverly Hills Cop. Oh, boy.

“You look like you wrote Pitch Perfect.” When did this turn into a roast?

Fjord has no memories earlier than the orphanage (The Driftwood Asylum). There were a couple dozen kids there aside from him; Travis thinks some of them might have been named Stone. It also operated as a small child-labor workshop for carpentry & woodshop stuff. “It was a terrible place all around.” He has no images of parents or being dropped off.

Sam thought the Nott transformation would be more endgame, though he feels it makes sense that it’s not. “While Nott transforming into Veth was my original goal, what’s great about these long games is that your goals can change two or three times before the end. Now I can explore all these other things: does she want to go back and be a housewife? How does she rectify her obligations to her husband and child to the life that she’s made with the M9? It’s so exciting and interesting.”

Brian asks a hypothetical: if she could transform back but lose all Nott’s memories, would she do it? Sam: “Oh, that’s tough. I don’t know.”

Fanart of the Week: a lovely piece by @pen_draws with everyone in the hot tub.

Travis is very trepidatious about returning to the open ocean after rejecting Uk’otoa. He wants to make sure the third temple is sealed. It feels like it would be too easy for someone not to come and try to collect the job he left half-finished. He also wants to go back to Darktow.

Sam doesn’t know if Nott is still in love with Yeza, although she definitely still loves him. He’s playing with the idea of a high school sweetheart being exposed to the world and then going back home. But Yeza’s amazing, a great guy, perfect. “I guess we’ll find out when/if she turns back into Veth.” Sam feels guilty talking about him. “He’s a fictional character and I feel guilty that he might be watching the show.”

Neither Nott nor Fjord trust Essek. Travis: “He just went from being cold and aloof to being really warm. I know there’s been time and he’s lived an isolated life, but...time will show if he’s being genuine. All of our haunches were up. All of us were on level five alert.” He’s being so helpful that Travis doesn’t trust Mercer with him.

Fjord never ever considered becoming a paladin of the Traveler. “No. Fuck no!” The Wildmother reached out and directly intervened to save him. Travis gets super creepy bad vibes from the Traveler’s relationship with Jester (Sam agrees).

Nott feels more pressure when her own problems become the focus. It’s hard for her to open up and talk about her feelings. She’d rather pick up on other people’s problems. Sam also acknowledges it’s more pressure on him (and anyone) as a player when the whole table is looking at you.

And that’s that! Is it Thursday yet?

#critical role #critical role spoilers #talks machina #talks machina spoilers #long post for ts

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rekkingcrew · 4 years

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Campaign Debrief

So for nearly 2 years I ran an Edge of the Empire campaign with 3-4 players, mostly weekly. These last couple of months we’ve been using discord, which has gone great. I want to get down some of my thoughts about what worked and what didn’t.

This is gonna be a big wall of text and all but two bits are gonna be under the cut: system and play style.

Fantasy Flight Star Wars game system is legit my favorite system EVER. (Not to dick wave or anything, but that’s including D&Ds 2-5, Gurps, White Wolf, Blades in the Dark, Dungeon World, Deadlands, and a few miscellaneous other short form ones). The system of advantages and disadvantages, and especially triumphs and despairs rather than just straight successes and failures really opens up complex narrative opportunities and gives a chance for wild story beats that just would not have happened otherwise. The fights go fast but feel meaty and there’s a lot of room to pitch advantages to your friends so you’re not just waiting your turn. Character creation is granular enough that your choices always feel meaningful, and points can be spent anywhere, so you can really specialize and shape your character.

We played very collaboratively and it made things AMAZING. Part of this is that we were all good friends and have played together for a while now. Our taste in what kind of story we want is similar- nuggets of drama scattered throughout, but mostly cutting up. A lot of the best NPCs and story suggestions came from my players rather than from me- our season one boss villain, Imperial spymaster “Uncle” Karston Severax, a pantoran ex-special forces black operative whose current public face was a Mr. Rogers-esque children’s TV presenter, for example, was someone my players started out and all of us collective “yes and” added to around the table, and he was JUST THE BEST. These kind of exchanges also gave us moments like the time our tech tried to blackmail the head of a security corporation with the fact that he was having an affair and he’d written just LOADS of incredibly cringey fanfiction; but the roll was such that the attempt ended with him finally getting the push he needed to quit a job he hated, get out of a marriage that just wasn’t working, and follow his dream of self-publishing. He even dedicated his first book to our slicer. Because it wasn’t a DM vs Players atmosphere, because we were all on the same page, I could ask my players “hey, what do you want for your triumph?” and “all right, so who is the NPC you know?” as well as just “that’s enough to finish this guy, what does this look like?” This campaign was 1000% better for sharing that world building load, and the players were all, I think, more invested.

more below the cut.

What Worked

One of the most useful things I ever did was start giving players morality pet NPCs that were their special hench people, and I’m embarrassed that I waited so long to assign one to our droid.

The zero session was absolutely invaluable in setting the tone of the game and the relationship between characters, and I will bang this drum until I’m fucking blue in the face. Don’t meet in the first session. Sit the players down and say “how do you know each other, why do you stay together, what are some of your past adventures?” It’s just so much better.

Cameos and ties to our other games, in what we’ve been calling “The Drax Kreiger Expanded Universe” have continued to be welcome pretty much every time. People were delighted to have a moment or two to slip back into old characters.

I was able to identify what each player wanted and give them that. Brick’s player wanted quiet scenes with big character emotion, like his one on one pit fight the character didn’t want to have, or the letter from his mother telling him how proud she was of him, or the time in training where he tapped into how angry he really was and it spooked the character and everyone on the ship. Nyla’s player wanted a big epic, but also difficult space journey of good vs. evil, and so Nyla got a padawan whose parents she had possibly killed when she fought for the empire, she dug up the grave of her clone teacher’s order 66′d jedi for the crystal for her lightsaber, she got to cleanse a temple that was trapped in a fruitless struggle between light and dark, and a climactic lightsaber battle that was about possibly sacrificing herself for the good of others. TK’s player was deep into star wars trivia and space stuff, so he practically squealed when Verpine shatter weapons showed up, and he seemed to get a kick out of the Evocii, and also that time they put on wing suits and dove the atmosphere of a gas giant. It’s worth noting nobody was actually all that interested in the thing that turns my gears: complex mysteries with a lot of clues and investigation, and once I let that shit drop, things ran a lot smoother.

Some of our best stuff was non-combat challenges, like climbing the cliffs of Naboo or navigating the deep undercity of Nar Shadaa. The guys reliably failed anything social, but environmental challenges were always appreciated.

I always tried to make sure there was more than one way to do things. For any given mission, especially early on, I’d try to brainstorm at least three ways something could be accomplished.

My party split up a LOT, but we found a sort of cinematic cutting back and forth to be really useful. When there was a big crit, or a goal accomplished, or something like that, we’d jump to the other party even if the fight wasn’t over. Sometimes that was only just, like, Brick and the guys doing drunk karaoke and saying to no one in particular “MAN, I hope Nyla’s having as fun a time as we are!” but it kept everyone involved and it wasn’t just people waiting their turn for 20 minutes at a time. Also people chimed in with fun advantages and disadvantages.

I had everybody write backstories and whenever I could, I incorporated in things from what they’d written. Our second season was basically TK tracking down the guy who’d made him, a Thackwash alien with the same sort of shifting personalities he had. TK’s player hadn’t written much about the guy except that he’d been a salvage mechanic who constructed TK for protection when he got in trouble with the local mafia. Giving that guy complementary personalities for each of TK’s really helped stick the landing on that one, and the player really enjoyed having actually completed his character’s goal.

It’s worth saying, we took some time at several points during the campaign, either individually or as a group, to talk about what we liked and didn’t, what we wanted more of, where we wanted things to go, possible directions for characters, mechanical issues, how to have a better game, group dynamics, all sorts of stuff. In a way it’s like sex: people have this fucked up expectation that you’ll just be good at it without communicating, and man, fuck that. Talking to my players was ALWAYS worthwhile.

I was always adamant, because it was a thing that bugged me when I was a player, that if a character had spent the points to be good at something, they got to be good at it. That made some things difficult, but I think it was the right decision. It took me a while to tailor fights right, and honestly a lot of times, splitting up the party was the best way to balance fights, but I never said to anyone hey that thing you spent all those points on, could you please not do that?

My players were excellent about encouraging each other to have serious dramatic moments. TK was completely ready to die in a fight, and when he lost a significant chunk of his programming, the way he chose to play it was really heartbreaking. Everyone came inside and had tea with Brick’s mom. No one stepped on anyone else’s fun when it was time to be serious, and everybody was great about cheering each other on, whether they were being funny or being dead serious.

I FUCKING FINISHED A CAMPAIGN. IT HAD AN END. So much stuff petered out over the years, I was adamant I wasn’t going to do that.

What Didn’t Work

Boy, my players had pretty much all the trouble trying to remember to use “they/them” pronouns for NPCs with neutral or alien genders.

No one is interested in falling damage. Sigh.

I did not keep good track of money or ship fuel or anything. The campaign didn’t end up relying on it too heavily (I was honestly expecting a much more Cowboy Bebop setup than where we drifted), but that was an area I kind of fell down.

We never really got obligation working correctly and in the end we just ended up abandoning it. We kept doing the force morality because the lone force player was very into it and it was a huge part of that character’s journey, but for the rest having people show up to collect on obligation was sometimes not possible in the story- or if it was possible it was pretty cumbersome. Campaign did obligation by arc, and I think that’s a pretty useful way to do it- roll at the end of the arc for what’s coming next.

Early on, I made way too many assumptions about what was an adventure hook for my players and what was an annoyance. Honestly, bits of this lasted pretty late. At one point I gave my players a spy for the larger rebellion they could totally talk to- he was even working with their resident bothan spy- but they looked at the senatorial assassination he was doing and literally said at the table “I think it’s best if we just walk away from all this.” And so they did. Which was frustrating, but, you know, it is what it is. They also never much cared about the hutt gang war.

I let a lot of things drop that I would have liked to bring back before the end, but in all honesty, I think we were all running a bit out of steam. I would have liked to put in Brick’s old mentor, or follow up with the imperial governor that was a falleen in a human skin suit, or see more of the bounty hunter’s guild, or have a nice end thing with our bothan spy, or any of that. But I do think it was time to end it. And we followed the threads people liked.

I had way too many NPCS.

What sort of worked

I had like 200 npcs and they were not all bangers. In particular, I let the party design their own ship, which I wish had played a bigger role (though it did really set the tone), and I let them design 2 npc crew who would fill in any party roles they didn’t want to play and guard the ship so they could go on adventures without worrying about it. The devaronian scoundrel was with the party to the end though I never really got him to be more than a joke, but the bothan spy kind of fell off, and while she made some appearances, she didn’t really have as big an impact as I would have hoped. She kind of got replaced by Nyla’s padawan, a hench mon calamari called Nezrene, who was a better fit with the party. But, you know, players will do what they like.

Factions. In the first bit of the campaign, my factions were a fucking life saver, because I could design scenarios with a sort of “what is each faction doing/ which faction hurts from this, which benefits?” By the second season we’d kind of abandoned them to go to the core, and by the third my group was solidly rebel, so the hutts and bounty hunters fell a lot by the wayside. I still think having a couple of broad poles of power, and having the players know them and their leaders, is a good call. But they do seem to kind of organically pare down on their own, and it’s easy to get caught up too much in them. Useful sorta?

There was definitely a point where my players just were not challenged by conventional challenges. We ended up doing most of the later fights that involved a lot of minions in montage. I’d have them roll their fight skills unopposed, just to see if they got any interesting advantage/triumph set ups. I still had boss fights that were mostly challenging, but there just was no point in throwing storm troopers or low level gangsters at them. Not when they have soak 8 and autofire, and that one talent that lets you kill every minion in a combat. Designings fight got a bit tricky, and in those big high level combats, despairs and triumphs come up a lot more and really sway the fight, which I like, but also it’s very hard to plan for.

Mass combat was tricky. I did a lot of it toward the end because my players were generals in a rebellion. I always had them do the rolls and some of the narration, but that wasn’t always enough to make them feel like things weren’t very arbitrary.

I personally love the rule that if you roll a despair shooting into an engaged combat you shoot your friend. Nyla, who got shot twice this way, does not.

We started the game with a tech character who dropped out. Toward the end, we picked up another tech character whose player couldn’t do their regular stuff because of covid lock down. Neither of these characters could fight at all, and both were very differently oriented than the rest of the party, and that was tricky to manage. Additionally, the dude coming in at the end had like a year and a half of in jokes he did not get and there were 200 goddamn npcs. I tried to give him the lowdown on what he might have heard about the party, but it was a combination of too much information and not that much player interest. He did get to break a star destroyer though, and I think he liked that.

I offered players XP to write backstory stuff, and later goodbye notes others could find if they kicked it. Not all of them did. In the end it made a negligible difference, and I still think offering the bounties on this is basically a good idea.

What I would do different next time.

Three ring binder that opens and closes so I could move fucking NPC stats around. I filled two goddamn school notebooks with notes for this campaign and there were so many goddamn times I was like “I KNOW I wrote this down, but where?!”

Players felt a bit aimless when they didn’t have a specific villain. I’d planted a few in, but they took finding, or they were too easy to avoid. Next time I would have a few more people who were actively on my player’s tails.

I would keep better campaign notes and/or ask one of the players to do so. I used to do recaps for the games when I played Rek. There’s stuff I KNOW I’ve forgotten, and more I’ll forget as time goes on, which is a shame. It’s a weird, ephemeral medium, but possibly I’m just spoiled by living in an age of easy reproduction and enormous storage where data is concerned.

Better book keeping in general, really.

When I did a mystery short, I wrote up a list of all the clues people could find but not where specifically they were, so that I could just jam them anywhere they seemed like they’d make sense whenever a roll called for a player to find something. I think I’d try to do that with player’s personal stories so they could be woven in a little better. I did a lot of flying by the seat of my pants.

All in all, I’m pretty happy with how it went, and I’m ready to get back to playing for a bit. I loved DMing, and I more or less DMed the game I would have liked to play, but man, doing this all the time, or being the only person who does it? After a while, that’d be a lot, and I’m looking forward to the break.

#star wars edge of the empire #Edge of the Empire #tabletop rp #i dmed

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o-hybridity · 6 years

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how would you make a tabletop system like D&D that's crunchy for players, but not a huge pain in the ass for the DM to make monsters?

This is the Eternal Question, and it cuts pretty close to the core of my basic principles of design philosophy! I don’t know if I have a definitive answer but I can springboard into a meandering explanation of the things I’ve done to wrangle with this exact problem. Here goes:

for a while I thought there was a game that answered that question perfectly, and it was called Dungeon Crawl Classics. I don’t hold that belief now (Zocchi dice…), but we can loot an important principle from its couple of good design decisions:

1. Every player gets one really good toy. DCC’s chief virtue is that it found a way to make Fighters a fun choice, not just the choice that’s less mentally taxing than being a spellcaster, and the way they make that work is by giving the role an inherently textured core mechanic called Mighty Deeds of Arms. Instead of giving them a flat ascending to-hit bonus that’s just numerically better than the other classes get, Fighters in DCC roll a separate Deed die that scales with level alongside the attack roll and add the Deed die to the to-hit roll and damage, and if the Deed die comes up 3 or higher they also pull off a maneuver that improves their immediate tactical situation.

Swashbuckling chandelier swings, disarms, feints, coating your foe in lamp oil, and basically anything Jackie Chan has ever done besides just hit guys count as Deeds, and the only things you need to make them happen are your own imagination, GM fiat, and the will of the dice—just so long as the effect isn’t “do more damage.”

Altogether, the method requires even less bookkeeping than your standard D&D fighter, while being way more versatile and giving the player something to actively play with and find new implementations for every time their class role is relevant.

Spellcasters in DCC similarly put some wrinkles in the Vancian procedures by getting rid of conventional spell levels, turning each spell into a range of effects keyed to the results of a casting check, and letting casters burn their physical stats temporarily to pump up a single casting attempt—and that’s before we get into mutations and faustian pacts. The role falls into some of the same pitfalls it always has: spellcaster players have to juggle a lot more functions than fighters or thieves and at the top of their game they’re still going to make wilder shit happen than the other classes, though it balances out a bit by making casting itself a higher-risk affair.

The trouble with DCC’s classes is it tries to spread about 2.75 really good player toys across five classes, and when it comes to thief stuff it can’t really come up with anything all that good.

So Digression 1: What makes a really good player toy? How do we fill out those empty spaces in the party roster with cool stuff for players to use that isn’t a headache to keep track of?

In my humble onion, a good player toy needs to be flexible, haptically engaging, low-bookkeeping, and freely usable but not strictly predictable. To be flexible, a player needs to be able to apply the toy in a range of play situations—getting too attached to pre-defined mechanical effects is toxic to flexibility. A haptically engaging toy prompts the player to engage with something physically at the table to use it; die rolls are the most obvious but there’s lots of options ranging from the nifty to the balls-out bizarre.

There’s also some mechanics that I think are inherently more satisfying because the things they make you do with numbers has kind of an inherent pleasure that feels kinesthetic—I get warm, kind of stimmy feelings thinking about roll-high-but-not-too-high dice pool systems.

Low-bookkeeping toys are pretty self-explanatory; if it requires resource management or tracking multiple modifiers across different locations on the character sheet, those elements need to be doing extra work to make themselves memorable. The Goblin Laws of Gaming’s spellcasting system introduces a bookkeeping element in that you have to track your caster’s accumulated Dooms, but any caster only ever gets 3, the last one is pretty final, and they all translate into memorable moments of play.

When I say that a good toy is freely usable but unpredictable, I mean that the mechanic should tempt the player to use it often—because it’s powerful, because the results are exciting or cool—and temper that eagerness to toy with it less with anxiety over whether they’re going to blow one of their limited uses on a whiff or a no-sell when they could need it later and more with the question of whether it might blow up in their faces this time. Spellcasters in DCC or GLOG are way more equipped to cast all day long compared to their D&D brethren, and that leaves caster players in a position to have more fun with their role, but there’s always the lingering possibility a spell might pop off wrong and now you’ve got a lobster hand. Even when a PC gimmick doesn’t work in the player’s favor, it should make the next moment more exciting. Non-events are poison to gameplay.

Something to keep in mind in reference to player toys: nothing obligates you to make these toys all fit into a single coherent reference frame or “preserve game balance.” What you’re looking to do here is create what game devs over on the digital side of things call Incomparables—play elements that you can’t meaningfully “balance” because you can’t meaningfully convert one into the terms of another.

All of this is building up to point 2. Monsters are self-contained toys for the GM to play with. Like how you’re not obligated to have player toys all fit together neatly into a balanced and 100% shared language of play, monsters can and should operate on their own distinct mechanical plane, and not every monster will be able to fit within the same framework of rules matter.

By that token, I strongly encourage anyone looking to break out of the framework of play you’ll find in a WotC book to ditch as much of the content in your statblock that carries over into the character sheet as you can. Give ‘em hit dice and hp totals, sure, give ‘em an AC rating and I won’t complain, to-hit bonuses even if you’re feeling nasty, but skip the ability scores and saving throws and proficiencies, and remember that there’s a special circle in hell for designers who give monsters big piles of feats that you have to dig back and forth through the damn book to find and make spot play decisions around (admittedly that’s not the problem it used to be back when 3e was what everyone was doing, but damned if I’m going to let anyone forget that it was a thing).

That sounds like heresy, but here’s the wild thing: there’s a whole armature of play to D&D that nobody uses and it would make the whole affair so, so much simpler if we did, because D&D is built to be a player-facing system, despite appearances. The original mechanic’s been buried under ability score modifiers, saving throws, attack rolls, and skill DCs, but it’s still there, baked into the dice and the stat spread. Roll a d20 and compare the result against the relevant ability score; if it’s equal to or lower than the stat in question, you done did the thing. High rolls within the margin of success are better than low ones; use this to determine who comes out on top in a contested action when there’s a tie.

Bam, you’re done. That’s your core task resolution mechanic. The great thing about this is that it takes a huge amount of pressure off the GM to pin down extraneous numbers. Your monster doesn’t need an AC score, just a penalty it applies to a player’s attack check. Same with to-hit bonuses, just applied to the roll the player’s making to avoid or resist the attacks it has. Same with exceptional (or exceptionally shitty) base abilities like strength, speed, and intelligence. You don’t need to so much as think the phrase “Passive Perception.” All of that lets you pare down a monster’s statblock to a pretty spare couple of lines that you can fit on a notecard, leaving you room and time to come up with mechanical texture that’s actually fun.

Additionally, using stats this way leaves plenty of room to come up with fun implementations on the players’ end. Stat damage rules begin to make a lot more sense when you strip away all the derived values and re-center your players’ attention on those 5% probability increments. Rolling high but shooting for less than a target number is one of those mechanics that’s really satisfying to then carry over into some kind of direct numeric result. Just narrowing things down to a smattering of possibilities for martial characters, n this framework you can set up mechanics for defensive fighters to convert a failing attack roll into a substitute AC score for the next round, while a more buckwild berserker type who plays more for risk/reward sets their hp total to whatever the die result is—that 1 hits, but now your timetable for the fight’s shifted drastically, but if you hit high, you can pull in a killer second wind. In short, you have an infinite canvas for crunch if that’s what your players are into.

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theunwrittenman · 7 years

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The Great Big “How to build a dungeon” post, Part 5.2

Accelerating the pace

Art is Ruins with ancient tree by Sviatoslav Gerasimchuk

When I was younger I used to run sprawling games with endless encounters and meandering threads of story which could go on forever. We played until one of us dropped from exhaustion, and thanks to youthful metabolisms and energy drinks, we often ran up against the wrong side of dawn. Since hitting the later years of university however, I’ve come to realize that time is a precious and finite commodity when it comes to running games, as well as a canny editing tool.

In this part of the HTBADP we’ll be discussing ways to make the best use of your time both in and out of the dungeon, as well as ways to conceptualize your content in the most punchy and efficient way possible.

Visualizing the dungeon:

To start this off I’d like to share a bit of a revelation that came to me a few days ago: that the mental conception of the dungeon for both players and games masters is fundamentally different, and as such has us thinking about different ways. For a DM, our first conception of a dungeon is as a top down grid listing everything in a room and whatever might be hidden within. We are taught to think of the rooms like they were being built in a videogame, pre-rendered and factually restrictive.

Players however first experience the dungeon as a verbal interaction. A paragraph to be listened to and mentally skimmed over. Primarily, they experience the dungeon ( and the rest of the game) as a bit of theater. Objects and features don’t exist until their existence is stated outright, and as such, we need to abandon the practice of keeping important details a secret until the players search for them. Anything that’s important to the scene needs to be a part of the scene.

For practice, try saying aloud how you’d describe the scene like it was at your table. If you can’t describe what’s cool about a section of your dungeon out loud in a sentence or two, you won’t be able to foster that feeling in your players while you’re at the table. Likewise, you should be using these sorts of statements to communicate with your players, rather than waiting for your players to ask questions about what’s in the room like you were the narrator in some kind of text adventure.

Since the goal is to provide people with as much fun in as short a time as possible, I’ve tried to rid myself of the “ text adventure” sort of narration that I’d grown used to. Video Games have trained me in such a way that the narrator expects input from the players, then returns their query with information like a game of verbal tennis. But as a dungeon master you are not a videogame system, you are a storyteller, and a story is a living and wild thing that your players should strive to stay atop of. Spending time on things that won’t delight your players is equivalent to visiting a gallery and staring at the space BETWEEN the paintings.

Death to the Corridor:

As part of combatting the “text adventure” sort of narration, I’ve also stopped describing hallways for in the most part. I’ve realized that by and large much of my time narrating as a dungeon master I was doing extra work because I assumed that my players demanded an extra level of immersion, and my players never questioned it because they assumed that everything I said had purpose.

Instead I give a general example of the area they’re moving through, what the atmosphere is like as they move deeper into the dungeon,maybe how long it feels like they spent traveling through it. If there’s a persistent hazard that comes from spending a lot of time in the dungeon ( getting sick in the sewers, getting cold in the mountains), this is where I do it. This allows me to save the time, effort, and details for the points of interest the players should actually put their attention on.

For example, rather than describing each and every deserted room in a section of a haunted manor, I can say something along the lines of “ The rooms in the east wing are long neglected, given over to cobwebs and the dust of neglect.” then if there’s points of interest within any of the rooms, I present them to the players, assuming that their characters gave the area a cursory search. In this regard I zero in on the actual content of the dungeon while maintaining the illusion that the characters are in an expansive building.

No one’s going to fault you for not filling out every square inch of your dungeon, the players care about having fun, not how much effort you’ve put into rooms they’re only going to visit once.

Art is desert cave ruins by wwsketch

Off the railroad and Into the amusement park:

You’ll likely hear a lot about the DM’s cardinal sin, Railroading. I’ve ranted against it more than once in this series, but more often than not you’ll seldom hear people give you a good example of what you should do instead. Railroading is after all an apprentice narrator’s tool, and here I am to give you a better one.

Rather than a static series of events, an adventure can be a bit like an amusement park, offering a number of equal options for players to chose one based on the group’s preferences at the time. Presenting multiple options up front lets players decide what exactly they’re up for that night, rather than enduring something they dislike to get to the part they’ll really enjoy. A person in an amusement park has a good idea whether they want to go to the rollercoaster, the haunted house, or the waterpark next, just like your players can agree on whether they want to fight, sneak or explore for their next challenge.

Since we already set the larger scene and identified our points of interest, we can skip right to the decision making process.

DM:“ Alright ranger, you’ve spent a good hour scouting the hills, keeping low to the scrub in order to avoid detection. Perhaps closest to your party’s camp there’s an old crumbling tower, covered with blue ivy. South along the river there’s a half flooded cave marked with orcish graffiti, and beyond the river you found the tracks of some great, three clawed beast. “

Saves a lot of time and sounds a lot more interesting than

DM: “ You have arrived in the hills, make me a perception check everyone”

Players: “ I got a 15”

DM: “You see a tower, covered in blue ivy, do you choose to go in? “

Players: “ uh, sure, what else are we supposed to do?”

Dm: secretly broods that they’re going to spend all session fretting over the tower and completely ignore the other encounters

Remember what I said about dungeon entrances way back when? Well, I used to keep any beyond the first entrance secret from my players, but I noticed they

“ from what you can currently perceive, there are two easy ways in…” is a simple way to give the party options while subtly hinting that there are more ways.

I don’t expect my players to remember every option they didn’t take. If they seem lost, or hit a dead end, it gives me an opportunity to casually list some of the other roads they could have taken, likewise, it lets me draw attention to some options they might have missed or neglected the first time.

Art is Risen Lissandra concept by Thomas Randby

Budgeting time:

If I know I’ve only got three or five hours before the game ends I can start budgeting the time spent. Hour and a half for big fights, half an hour for the small ones. Shopping or leveling can take up to forty five minutes and an hour is a good time to budget for getting everyone fed/ a break in the middle.

This of course applies to dungeons. If you know you how long you have, you can budget your energy accordingly. Navigation chews up a lot of time it doesn't need to and bossfights can be tiring, so better to get them over when people are still fresh, or to have them kick up next time the group gets together to play.

If your players aren't actively conversing on which route forward to take or what would progress the situation, you should feel obliged to move them along. All players want to have fun but they’re not always comfortable taking the reigns. If someone’s thinking about the options presented to them though, I encourage you to rewind back and let them perform their bit, otherwise the show must go on.

Boil down bickering:

I let my players go back and forth too much, and people have a tendency to overplan. Strategizing between rounds of battle which slows the pace to a crawl, arguing how to get over a shallow pit. To combat this, I usually give them a time limit, ( about 5-10 minutes) with the understanding that if they go over this time limit some unfortunate thing is going to happen as their characters have been bickering for just as long and have likely attracted some kind of unfortunate attention. Once the players realize that there’s consequences to being overly particular about things I’ve found that they’ll move from over elaborate schemes to trying the direct approach more often than not.

Now, If the players can’t come up with something in that time don’t hit a buzzer or inform them that they have to act, just start to make things a little more difficult for them. Their lamp oil is running out, there’s sound from back down the corridor that means the body they left has been discovered by one of the patrols.

Art is Book of Aules children by Lucas Durham

I think that’ll do us for now. I hope you’ve been enjoying it as much as I have. As always, share this around and leave your own thoughts. If you have suggestions about what I should write about next.

Till then,

Happy Delving~

#htbad #TGBHTBADP #Dungeons and Dragons #DM advice #DMing Tips #dungeon #dungeon design #dungeons

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loquaciousquark · 6 years

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Talks Machina Highlights - Critical Role C2E45 (Dec. 18, 2018)

Evening, all! @eponymous-rose is off tonight with such silly things like family and events and real life obligations, so I’m here to make bad jokes and have opinions instead.

For those who hadn’t heard, Brian & Ashley are engaged as of this week! Brian is taking both her last and first name to be ultra-progressive. Tonight’s guests: Sam Riegel & Matt Mercer. Matt is here willingly. Sam is not. We’re discussing Episode 45: The Stowaway, sponsored by LootCrate. Brian asks Sam for an impromptu song ad; he rhymes moot and loot and jigs and everyone is a little closer to death than they were a few moments prior.

Tonight’s announcements: Pub Draw & Name Drop are two new shows on the Critical Role channel--check out critrole.com for more details.

This Thursday’s episode is the last of 2018; Critical Role then returns on January 10.

Liam’s oneshot, The Night Before Critmas, airs at 7pm Pacific this Friday night. He’s been planning it for two years, and the VOD will be available December 23.

Talks Machina is also breaking for the holidays and will return on January 8, where they’ll have a cast-wide discussion on the state of the campaign so far. The questions open on Reddit, Twitter, and email on January 4th.

CR Stats: Nott has the most kills of the group with 37. The 45th HDYWTDT occurred in episode 45 as well. Twiggy’s dragon kill was the fifth guest kill of the campaign, and the 2nd guest HDYWTDT. In campaign one, guests got 22 kills and four HDYWTDTs. This was the longest episode of campaign two and the fourth longest of the series.

Matt and Deborah had met extensively to discuss backstory and mechanics, but hadn’t discussed much personality. The only person who wanted to check voice/accent was Khary (with Shakaste).

Deborah was one of the first guests they reached out to when they started streaming all that time ago, but she initially said no because D&D was such a personal thing for her and she didn’t want to share it with the internet. Everyone agrees she was worth the wait.

Everyone’s furious about Daredevil’s cancellation. :(

Sam thought it was fun to play alongside another Arcane Trickster because... “she was very good at it, all that great stuff that I forget to do.” Nott was jealous that many of the things that made her unique were present in Twiggy. However, the jealousy was later reversed because of how excellent Twiggy was in the fight.

The Happy Fun Ball was a narrative device Matt had been planning for a long time--he liked the idea of a pocket dungeon with lore attached. When they realized Deborah’s schedule would put her on a boat in the middle of nowhere, he found a perfect opportunity to bring it in.

Sam asks if Matt intended the device to be a one-use single episode thing, or something recurring, something for the party to further explore at their will. Matt explains very circuitously (and hilariously) that certain DMs may have in the planning of the introduction of the Happy Fun Ball originally intended for such Happy Fun Balls to leave with the guest, and were very surprised when said Happy Fun Ball (and all its hundreds of extraplanar rooms to explore) was left behind with the party instead. He then basically dares Sam to press a button and see what happens.

Nott doesn’t resent Fjord for touching the window or setting a time limit on the library exploration. While it was cool in the library, there were too many things attacking them.

Matt doesn’t necessarily intend his traps for Travis, but he likes having good buttons and bad buttons. “I just want shit to happen. Surprise me!” He admires the player that occasionally gets bold, rather than the one who always sends their minions out to touch all the tiles and trigger all the traps before they ever set foot in the dungeon. He also enjoys the meticulousness of Liam being at the same table as Travis’s impulsiveness.

Sam does not want the fans to send him larger flasks. His current flask holds 128 oz, which is exactly a gallon.

GIF of the Week: @criticalschluck with a hilarious movie-trailer-style GIF of Travis explaining he’s got an intelligence of 6 (Grog), then an intelligence of 14 (Fjord), then pushing buttons and experiencing... consequences.

Nott approves of Caleb’s choice to abandon the books to go back to the party. While she wants as much knowledge in his head as possible, it’s because “a smarter Caleb is a more powerful Caleb, and hopefully a Caleb that can stay alive a little longer.” Matt likes watching characters be put in situations where they have to choose between long-reaching character goals and the people they have chosen as their family. He was fascinated to see the struggle as he was ticking down the time on his sheet. He’s very excited to see what’s going to happen this Thursday.

Brian and Matt both fanboy over Sam’s 1hp decision.

Sam reflects on Jester’s being left behind--”not in a malicious way, you know, but sometimes in a big family someone gets left behind at a mall!”

Matt circuitously explains that the stained-glass window could be used to access other places. This man’s being slipperier than soap suds on wet tile tonight.

Nott was aware that the hit she took for Jester could have been a killing blow, but she was ready--”it was what goes through her head around Caleb a lot: ‘I’ve got to protect my friends.’” She’s very protective and very maternal, and Sam would have been okay if that had been the last of Nott.

Both Sam and Liam (and others) have begun to experience the in- and out-of-game changes that come with finally beginning to really know these characters. They certainly wouldn’t have died for each other at the beginning of the game, even knowing how hard their friends worked on these characters. It was originally a “system shock” (as Matt puts it) which required check-ins after certain blow-ups at the beginning of the campaign to make sure they (the players) were all okay. Now, though, they’re closer and closer to being willing to die for each other for both in-game and meta reasons.

Sam reflects on how both Caleb and Nott hate themselves, but manifest that very differently in how they treat other people. Caleb withdraws and puts up thick walls; Nott is quick to trust and care about everyone.

Nott is least close to Yasha at the moment. She’s still a li’l scared of her.

Matt had a few battle options planned out regarding which parts of which chamber were futzed with. The black tapestry was the one curtain they didn’t mess with that would have led to a “very rough encounter.” Matt had six maps built off-stage, just in case.

Sam’s backup character is a handsome actor named Sam Seagull.

Brian is annoyed that every encounter starts with the chat screaming “TPK.” Matt: “I hope not. That’d be my fault if that happened.”

While the dragon was very powerful, Matt had expectations that the party would understand very quickly that the fight didn’t necessarily have to end with the dragon’s death--he wanted them to understand the challenge was the exit, not the dragon. However, they came in in a different order than he’d anticipated, including party staggering, and that was when he started to get nervous.

Whatever magic had first triggered the first crystal would have been the same magic required to open the second door. It was proximity-based.

Fanart of the Week: @tehsasquatch, with this super-cool portrait of Nott.

On whether Nott feels as if she’s earned her comma: sometimes, especially in encounters like these, Nott feels just for a moment that she can be brave, she can be useful, she can be heroic--and then the moment it’s over the world comes crashing back down. When she’s out of those moments, she feels that she’s still just a goblin.

Is Sam ready for Nott to get the spotlight Fjord’s currently in?

Sam: No. Matt: [very intense face]. There’s a lot of backstory elements that he and Matt know that no one else is aware of, and he’s nervous about those coming to light.

The Traveler’s appearance was complete improv. Matt was reading the situation and the emotions and looking for ways to facilitate a heroic story, and when the dice worked in her favor, he felt it would be a wonderful, dramatic story beat to suddenly include--especially since the Traveler hadn’t responded much recently. Matt: “Yeah, that was really cool.”

The Traveler/Jester relationship has evolved in ways Matt both did and did not expect. He wasn’t sure how seriously Jester was going to take it. It’s the difference between believing in something and allowing that thing to define you as a person. He loves it. Sam: “The Traveler...is Taryon, right?”

Nott doesn’t see Caleb as abandoning her at all. “He’s a weak, puny man who needs to get himself out of danger.” It would have actually been harder if Caleb had been there, because if Nott had had to make a choice as to who to protect, Jester would be dead.

After Beau’s emergence from the orb, she probably for a few minutes would have thought that they were all dead behind her. It wasn’t that hours or days had passed--just a few minutes. Matt found Beau’s and Caduceus’s conversation at the end very fascinating and compelling, especially as a way to end the episode.

Nott agrees that Jester is not as happy and fine as she appears to be, especially after their talk about boys, but doesn’t feel it’s as severe as Caleb’s issues. “Jester’s a functional person.” However, Sam’s excited they’re getting past the “flitty person from the first half of the campaign” to the “core of sadness” as the story progresses.

Matt’s sure Yasha was not happy at all that her friends all disappeared without warning. “She spent six days thinking her friends were never going to come back. She doesn’t cry in a corner; she’s familiar with grief and loss. She hardens herself and moves on.” He’s hoping they’ll get to see some of that this week.

Critmas Spotlight: The Blind Weaver, a really, really cool 3D painting by a lady named Elaine Ryan, which has layers upon layers of polyurethane stained to make an amazing effect. See @elaineryanart on twitter and tumblr for more!

Talks Machina: After Dog

They decide where guests sit at the time of the episode. Matt likes to avoid the edges so they don’t feel like the outlier. Sam requests no attractive guests be placed immediately adjacent to him so that it does not detract from his glory. “That’s why I sit next to doggo Laura Bailey.” Brave man. Brave, foolish man.

Sam likes oatmeal raisin cookies. I am DELIGHTED, WHAT AN OLD MAN WHO SHARES MY TASTE. He also likes Werther’s, which is bringing back so many memories of my grandmother’s house. Matt likes ginger snaps, which are my favorite Christmas cookies also. I would kill for ginger snaps right now. Matt and Sam both are excited about pumpkin pie.

Essential D&D gifts, per Matt: dice, PHB, HeroForge custom minis if you really want to get them excited. He finds that getting in there and making a character can really help hook someone on the visual aspect & get invested in their character. Everything else is fluff. Sam suggests a music playlist for the first game; when he ran his first game with his kids, he liked having gridded paper to draw the maps on.

Matt does not feel that the crew of the ship has been mistreated, but they have been “neglected and dragged through places they didn’t expect.” He does think they’ll talk about everything they’ve done to all their friends and family when they get home in a very “you won’t believe this!” kind of way.

Sam always wears the same tie when he’s voice directing and on the first day of a new show. He’s wearing it tonight and can’t discuss the new show.

Favorite holiday movies! Brian: “Love, Actually” and “Die Hard,” as well as “Miracle on 34th Street.” Matt loves “A Christmas Story” (my favorite also, bless this man). Sam likes “Prancer” and “Scrooged,” but realizes mid-sentence that this is Brian’s first Talks as an engaged man.

Brian on proposing: ”It’s...the best.” They’d been together for over six years & met during the first Last of Us game. Brian describes himself as a former “piece of shit” and a very different person back then. Ashley had no expectations that he was going to propose & was totally surprised. Gah, this is too romantic.

Brian: “I always imagined for years what that moment would be like, and this topped all of my expectations... What more can you really hope for in this life than to feel that feeling with another person? It’s to me the pinnacle of our human experiences to be able to say ‘I’ve been through hell and yet found someone that I can definitely say I want to spend all the days of my life on this earth with,’ and the fact that it happened is fucking cool. It’s like heroin with none of the bad side effects.”

It was extremely stressful--but only the logistics. Apparently Matt’s proposal was extremely logistically intensive; Brian sympathizes.

And on that lovely, quiet note, we’re done for the night. Happy holidays, everyone. <3

#talks machina #talks machina spoilers #long post for ts #critical role #critical role spoilers

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