Fast Darkness

Found this perusing my old Livejournal. If I remember correctly I threw this together in response to the Microlite craze. It’s a a neat game sketch; some of its ideas eventually found their way into the Mage Chroniclers Guide. Anyway, now that this is the place for game sketches I thought you’d like it!

Fast Darkness

This is a super-streamlined version of the World of Darkness rules.

Character Creation

Attributes: Start with 1 dot in each and divide 5 dots between:

  • Power: Strength, Aggressiveness, Force
  • Finesse: Discretion, Precision, Quickness
  • Resistance: Toughness, Counterbalance, Determination

5 is the maximum but it does not cost 2 of these dots.

Skills: Divide 7 dots between these Skills:

  • Mental: Education, Thinking, Reasoning
  • Physical: Athletics, Fitness, Martial Arts
  • Social: Interpersonal Talent, Diplomacy, Etiquette

Max 5 each-the 5th dot costs 2 dots.

Figured Traits:

  • Speed: Finesse + Physical + 5
  • Health: Resistance + 5
  • Willpower: Resistance + Mental
  • Morality: 7. Choose one Virtue and one Vice.

Merits: Choose 7 dots of Merits. each Merits tops out at 5 dots each, and the 5th dot costs 2 dots.

  • Give each Merit a specific Attribute/Skill combination and a descriptor.
  • When the Merit applies (by descriptor and Att/Skill field) to a die roll, you may re-roll one failed die per Merit dot.

Equipment: Choose 7 dots of Equipment. A 5 dot item is so awesome the 5th dot costs 2 dots, as usual.

  • Describe the items.
  • Equipment adds 1 die to your roll per dot on actions that make sense for them to boost, or add 1 to a Resistance value per two dots.

Supernatural Characters: Each of the following traits starts at 1 dot except for Talent — it starts at 0. Add 5 dots. You may not start with a 5th dot in any single trait.

  • Rank (Primal Urge, Blood Potency, etc.): This gives you an Essence pool of 10, + 1 per additional Rank.

  1. Subtract dice from incoming powers equal to the degree by which your Rank exceeds that of the supernatural dude zapping you.
  2. Each Rank dot also gives you a free dot to add to one of your Attributes. You can boost Attributes beyond 5 this way. You must assign bonus dots to all three Attributes within each 5 Rank dots.
  • Origin (Thyrsus, Ventrue, etc.): This adds to your Mental, Physical and Social Skills when you use the group’s special powers — stuff like clan Disciplines and Path Arcana.
  • Society (Summer Court, Silver Ladder, etc.): These act like additional Merit dots, linked to the group’s specialties.
  • Talent: This is a supernatural ability common among your kind but not part of your Society or Origin.

  1. This can be slightly broader than a by-the-book power — “Supernatural Athleticism,” not “Celerity.”

Task Resolution

Roll dice at the standard difficulty, but there are no opposed or extended rolls. All dice rolls are:

  • Attribute + Skill + Equipment – Resistance + Equipment
  • Teamwork works like multiple attacks. The best participants go first. Each additional participant reduces the Resistance by 1.
  • Spend an Essence to use a power. If the power is a buff, just add the dice/Resistance as indicated by character Origin. If the power is a extraordinary thing mundane humans can’t do, just roll your Origin + dice pool to do that thing.
  • Subtract Rank from dice pools belonging to powers targeting Superior Rank Guy.

There isn’t much more — it’s just a sketch, after all. I may have to juggle relative powers again — I could go a couple of ways with this (and did, fooling around).

Posted in RPG Sketches | Tagged , | 1 Comment

The Most Important Rules in My Game

These are my translations/simplifications of the DMG’s social systems — the ones I use in The Hundred Millionth Day game. I basically converted these to a d20 from d%, made a few implied things explicit and matched up tables that were already very similar, but made few (not none, but not many) changes that affect the actual output of the system or the in-game factors that influence it.

These rules determine what NPCs do in my game. I use them frequently. Using them has completely changed how AD&D feels. The game has an edgier quality and an understanding that enemies don’t just fight to the death, but for as long as they can stand the stress. Monsters don’t always attack. Allies matter.

I didn’t invent this system. I just adopted and tweaked it after ignoring it for over 20 years.

So:

Social Systems

The Social Check Table below governs NPC actions in situations where they are not determined by well-developed motives or story logic. The DM uses these as is, or uses them as one factor when it comes to deciding NPC actions. Checks occur at break points: occasions where a roll is warranted due to an important event or condition. Like other rolls, a natural 20 applies a +5 bonus and a natural 1 earns a -5 penalty.

Optionally, players may use these systems as well to help them decide how to react in a particular situation. They are never required to obey the results of these rolls.

To simplify things a bit, checks are generally designed so that rolls of under 20 can be considered “failures” (NPCs dislike PCs, flee battle or are disloyal) and rolls of 20 or higher are considered “successes” (NPCs make friends, stay in the fight or remain allies). You may use this to simplify rolls into Yes/No binaries.

Types of Checks

Reaction Check: A reaction check is used to determine the attitudes of one or more NPCs to a group of characters.

  • Roll 1d20 + 10 + Medium Charisma Bonus + Modifiers
  • Roll once per break point for the group
  • In an encounter, the party designates a leader. (This can change from one break point to the next – players’ choice if it makes sense.) The leader’s modifier is used to determine the disposition of the encountered group or individual. If there is more than one individual in the encountered group, other characters may prompt additional checks interacting with individuals.

Morale Check: Use morale checks to determine the disposition of enemy forces – whether they will fight, flee, or surrender.

  • Roll 1d20 + 10 + Modifiers
  • The DM rolls at each break point and adjusts results if they cannot be easily rationalized.

Loyalty Check: A loyalty check is used to determine the trustworthiness of henchmen, hirelings and allied NPCs.

  • Roll 1d20 + 10 + Small Charisma Bonus
  • The DM chooses whether he/she or the leader’s player rolls at each break point. The DM may keep the roll or some modifiers a secret.

Break Points

Break points trigger social rolls. A DM may call for a social roll at any time or ignore a break point, but unless he or she intentionally exercises that privilege he or she should make the appropriate check when its break point arises.

Reaction Break Points

  • Start of encounter
  • Non-leader PC engages individual for the first time
  • Each organized offer in parley/bargaining
  • Significant fact revealed (character possesses desirable magic item; NPC learns PC allies are nearby; servant of an important NPC reveals himself, etc.)
  • Dramatically appropriate occasions (as DM judges)
  • End of encounter

Morale Break Points (And Modifiers)

  • First enemy down (Note: “Down” indicates flight, surrender, incapacitation or death); +1
  • First ally down; -1
  • Enemy leader (as perceived by NPCs) down; +3
  • Own leader down; -3
  • Frightening combatant  revealed (monster, paladin, etc. – based on NPC standards); -2
  • Horrific event (devoured by monster, weird spell, etc.) claims ally; -4
  • Quarter of own force down; -2
  • Quarter of enemy force down; +2
  • Half of own force down; -4
  • Half of enemy force down; +4
  • Enemy force routed or broken; +6 (determines pursuit and surrender opportunities)
  • Enemy revealed as greatly superior (each round this holds true); -1
  • Dramatically appropriate occasions (as DM judges)

Loyalty Break Points

  • Offered a bribe
  • Coerced to act against leader or leader’s allies
  • Opportunity to steal
  • Leader breaks a promise
  • Leader or ally insults NPC
  • Horrific encounter
  • Ordered to help new ally
  • Argument with other ally
  • Ordered into danger
  • Put into danger without consent
  • In combat with superior foe
  • Offered surrender terms
  • Leader down
  • Forced to diminish personal resources
  • Dramatically appropriate occasions (as DM judges)

Check Modifiers

Reaction

  • Characters are invaders: -4
  • Language barrier: -2
  • Place of business; visitors expected: +3
  • Civilized region: +2
  • Characters threatening or insulting: -1 to -5
  • Characters polite or kind: +1 to +5
  • Characters appear tougher than encountered group: +1 to +5
  • Characters appear to be weak: -2
  • Misc. DM modifiers

Morale

  • See Morale break points
  • Charisma check to Intimidate: +2 on a success (1d20 + Cha, score 20+)
  • Misc. DM modifier

Loyalty

  • Misc. DM modifier
  • Casual ally: -2
  • Captured and coerced: -3
  • Slave: -6
  • Henchman: +1
  • Long term hireling: 0
  • Occasional help: -1
  • Association of less than a month: -1
  • Association one month to one year: 0
  • Association over a year to five years: +2
  • Association more than five years: +5
  • 0 level, not trained to fight: -4
  • 0 level: -2
  • 0 level, veteran: 0
  • 1st level: +1
  • 2nd or higher level: +4
  • No pay:  -4
  • Inconstant and low pay: -2
  • Partial share: 0
  • Equal share: +2
  • Gets performance bonuses: +2 (in addition to usual pay adj.)
  • Per step difference in alignment: -1
  • Leader good aligned: +2
  • Leader lawful aligned: +2
  • Leader or allies generally fair: +1 to +5
  • Leader or allies generally callous or unfair: -1 to -5
  • Leader/allies coerce through threats: apply adjustment of 2 to 6 based on threat. Add this to rolls of 20+ and subtract from rolls of less than 20. NPC will always attempt to escape harm through the most expedient means regardless.
  • Treatment of other NPCs: average best and worst morale modifiers among other NPCs and halve the result.
  • Other adjustments: See DMG(1st Edition) for guidelines

Social Check Table

Adjusted Roll Reaction Roll

  • Spokesperson PC Player rolls Reaction Check that applies to NPC group.
  • Other PCs roll Reaction Checks to affect individuals.
  • Opportunities as per Break Points
Morale Check

  • DM rolls 1d20 +10 + Adj.
  • For entire force or individual as called for at Break Points
Loyalty Check

  • DM or PC Leader rolls Loyalty Check at Break Points
11 or less Very Hostile

  • Immediate Morale Check at +2 to attack
Flee Recklessly

  • Runs with no concern for allies, may blunder into danger
Hateful

  • Despises leader
  • Will desert, betray or harm at earliest opportunity
  • Morale Check at +2 to attack leader or allies
12-15 Hostile

  • Will threaten or deceive
  • Morale Check to attack
Organized Retreat or Surrender

  • Organized fighting withdrawal
  • May surrender for few to no terms
Disloyal

  • Will betray if it brings advantage at minimal risk
  • Roll next Break Point at -4
16-19 Uncertain and Negative

  • Will take advantage of characters if there is little risk
  • Reroll when dramatically appropriate at -2
Fight Defensively

  • Will not press the attack
  • Reroll next round at -2
  • May surrender or parley for honourable terms
Fairweather

  • Will betray to avoid harm
  • Roll next Break Point at -2
20-21 Neutral

  • Reroll when dramatically appropriate
Fight for Now

  • Reroll next round
  • Open to parley
Typical

  • Will support leader and take moderate risks
  • Obeys orders but shows little initiative
22-25 Uncertain and Positive

  • Will provide trivial help
  • Reroll when dramatically appropriate at +2
Fight On

  • Will pursue if it is tactically sound
  • Might accept a surrender
  • No Morale Check until next Break Point
Loyal

  • Will take same risks as leader
  • Obeys orders with some enthusiasm
26-29 Friendly

  • May help for compensation or for little risk
Regroup

  • Will pursue
  • Will not accept an easy surrender
  • Ignore next Break Point
Very Loyal

  • Will take serious but not suicidal risks for leader
  • Obedient and thorough
  • Roll next Break Point at +2
30 or more Very Friendly

  • May help for no compensation and some risk
Ferocious

  • Will not accept surrender
  • No more Break Points
  • Fight to the Death!
Fanatical

  • Will take suicidal risks
  • Proactive and absolutely obedient.
  • Roll next Break Point at +4
Posted in Tabletop RPGs: Art Without Prestige | Tagged , | 2 Comments

System Sketch: Console Dice

I love The Force Unleashed series because I like Star Wars, superheroes, and video games that cater to people bad at playing video games. So I whipped up a quick game system based on a console controller layout:

  • d6es are camera dice, simulating your aim and facing. Roll a pool based on your skill level and pick the one you want. The number determines your facing hex side — matches improve your aim. Facing the wrong way? Too bad for you — you’re just as lousy at moving the thumbstick around as I am!
  • You also have X, Y, A and B dice. Assign a d4, d8, d12 and d20  to them however you’d like. X is your attack die. Y is your power die. A is your jump (or tumble) die and B is your defence die. Each task has a 3 step ranking system that unlocks greater range, more spells, etc.
  • The bigger your die, the better you do at its governing task. You want to roll high. Matches on your facing/camera roll provide a bonus equal to the number of matches.
  • You can also try for combos: matching numbers on two or more dice: X + Y, A + B, X + A + B, or even a button mash, quadruple combo! Combo effects are determined by looking at a table based on the combo and your skill ranks in each component.
  • In a combo, multiply the number of aim matches by the number of the match on your button dice. So if you faced hex side 2 after rolling 2 three times, and got a combo with 8 on two dice, your final number would be 24.
  • Triggers and bumpers? D-pad? Not sure about those yet.
  • Naturally, we’ll need a life bar system for energy and hit points.

That’s all for now. It’s just a sketch! If you’ve got ideas, I’d love to hear ‘em.

Posted in Electronic Games, RPG Sketches | Tagged , , | 3 Comments

Religion and Life, by Thadanain gri-Abbadona

In many countries, a passive lay public heeds a bureaucracy of professional spiritual masters. As a priest I can’t completely object to this system, but here in the mountains righteous beings heed the Great Peace; we keep shrines close, pray together and attune our spiritual lives not to the demands of a pontificate, but the ways of our professions. As a priest, my dharma supports others’ by bringing knowledge of the Gods (especially my Destroyer) so we can find solace even after exposure to Their fiercest aspects.

I ‘d go into the paths of soldiers, dungeon-spiders, weavers, even thieves, but that would be tedious, wouldn’t it?  It’s a fact that history and special training gives some life-ways a sharper spiritual focus than others.

Assassins: The so-called Society of Humility deserves mention because it was founded by the Gods. They gave its Grand Ancestors the secrets of Death: weaknesses of the body, moments of inattention that plague all Woman-born, and the powers of stealth and betrayal. They were dark warriors in the Titanomachy, but nowadays the average waghalter is barely religious. The Guild retains consistent rites only in the upper echelons, where the ritual hunt and and murder-bardos still guide the Grandfather and his inner circle.

Bards: Kin to druids, bards preceded them. Animist faith took root among old warriors and dungeoneers. It grew into the third stage in the heroic life-way. A true man or woman grew into a warrior-youth, then a lord and family head, and later still left the high seat and returned to his or her own spiritual journey: a literal wandering life. Music is their way, to tell tales learned over exceptional lives, and search for the primordial spirituality (a “true vibration”) that lies at the heart of animist longing. (I believe this is a fruitless search, but I can’t condemn a faith that found root in my own children.)

Clerics: We keep the temples, scriptures and the full Way of the Gods. We know the full secrets of theurgy. As a mark of the Peace we abandoned the sword, the bow and their cousin arms. What more needs to be said?

Now some legends say that as the Gods battle in myths so do their orders, but that’s not true; the high mysteries of each sect might be morally incompatible with each other, but each God rules a primal chord of the universe. In the cities, clergy of all Gods work together, teaching people through sermons, art and righteous works. I can’t comment on extremists, and some sub-orders have particular duties that might lead to increased conflict. That’s more prevalent in these parts, where dungeoneering unearths religious divides best left buried! In the end, all Gods intersect, shadows of a great Principle. This ultimate Truth, which the titans could not comprehend, is what makes the Gods more than the symbolic automatons they were created to be.

Druids: As I said, bards — heroes taking up the flute and wandering life to look for meaning — spearheaded the animist revival (animism being a perennial tendency among the common and self-educated). After a a dozen or so human lifespans young men and women decided to practice the faith from a young age, populating the woods in ascetic communes. Bards and druids have indeed unlocked their own strange theurgy, but remember that divine magic is not driven by faith alone, but by a technical knowledge of divine attributes, symbols and manifestations.

Illusionists: This ten thousand year old tradition is an offshoot of the sorcery life-way. They reasoned that the magical universe’s artificiality makes it an idealist construct built atop the Real: a product of mind over essential truth. From there, illusionist metaphysics questions categories of being, mind against body, and includes studies in psychology and perception in both the theoretical and practical realms. Illusionists are masters of sleight of hand and misdirection as well as their brand of quasi-true sorcery.

Magic Users: The Great Peace divided magic into theurgy to be governed by the Gods, and sorcery that could be learned through meditation and study without moral foci. The sorcerer’s dharma is the deep study of reality divorced from inherent purpose, save perhaps for that of some distant, ultimate Godhead. Many wizards learn antiquated crafts, sciences and languages. They’re smart, but poor moral guides; they court madness and the influence of malefic beings. The titans left some things in this cosmos undone. There are fearful gaps.

Monks: Unlike the assassins, monks have preserved their spiritual focus. They were originally the titans’ elite warriors, trained to fight with any weapon or none, and heir to certain secrets where an adept might align mind and body with the cosmos’ hidden codes. I’m happy to say that monks are no longer priest-slayers, but they still don’t come to worship, and won’t give Gods even token respect.

Paladins: The Palatine Order is ancient, founded by a Goddess to defend the Last Empire. They walked from world to world as soldier-beggars, righting wrongs in the failing frontier. The paladins still live simple lives as followers of Sec Menvra. They master the Alabaster Lady’s theurgy alongside their battle-craft. Popular operas portray them as intolerant fanatics, but that doesn’t match my experience at all. The paladin I met was compassionate, yet cautious to intervene. She knew that to end one life boldly changed ten thousand others — and I saw her exercise this boldness only when absolutely necessary. She gathered an army and overthrew the Three Tyrants of Ostrakopolis, but that was long before you were born.

Rangers: I think that if I’d never felt the Goddess’ call I would’ve wanted to become a ranger. They vow to protect anyone who travels the lawless reaches, charging only token fees to feed themselves and maintain their arms. The rangers rose from conscientious men and women who sensed the Last Empire would be short-lived. They study sorcery and theurgy together, and cultivate a broad respect for life. Rangers are pragmatists who believe an ultimate Truth will appear to men and women who comport themselves with honour. That Goodness will in the end provide a metaphysical revelation is a ranger’s core faith. I admire that even if I myself am not attuned to that alignment.

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The Hundred Millionth Day, Session 10

Last session saw the defeat of Sneer, half-orc bandit chief and assassin, sub-director of some sinister alliance between failed adventurers and powers deeper in the Rock. The party slaw Sneer and his sorcerer, but captured a priest of Xasu Nazarist, the tyrant god. (Note that they’ve tried capturing these clerics before.)

Arisha returned to turn the tide after near-mortal arrow wounds took Kaith and Eileen. She didn’t come alone. She hired Aethelred the ranger (played by returning long-time player Lea! Hot damn!). The human warden-scout stayed past his agreed period of service because he sensed danger — and in fact, because he wished to prove his worth to the singularly rude monk, who disobeyed the custom of paying a gratuity.

Rifling through the bodies (and prisoner) they found assorted gems and monies, a strange rod, an arcane brooch, enchanted mail and leather armour, a magic long sword and short compound bow, and a scroll tube, marked with rune-heraldry from the same apprenticeship line as Eileen and her master, Liam the Perspicacious! The scroll inside proved to be a well-executed example of the Fireball spell.

Aethelred chose a defensible camp site and they settled down,  Xasite cleric bound and gagged, but once they settled down to sleep she chewed through her gag, listened for a nearby orc patrol and screamed at them to save her and kill her captors!

The mailed orcs strode up in phalanx formation as the adventurers rolled out of bed. Seeing no other choice against massed spears, she used the Fireball scroll. Stellar plasma channelled through anthropic-elemental wavelengths obliterated them all, leaving a shower of char and molten metal.

“Holy shit,” observed Eileen.

And as they gathered their gear to find a new site, Quareth caught site of a man sneaking around the blast site. Aethelred tagged the man with an arrow, and they heard him meet his fellows below. They were survivors of the massacres that had so recently turned the bandits from a minor power into running curs. Adventurers loosed arrowed from their cliff-side camp, but their enemies were too far away, and sought cover.

Quareth and Aethelred heard them plot and guess that the burnt horror on the hillside was the product of a scroll, not native talent. The bandits recovered their confidence and readied an ambush — but the adventurers ambushed first. Kaith swung halfway down a rope to use his bow. Arisha leapt, tumbled (natural 20!) and sprung up behind an enemy. She missed with a ridgehand, however, and Kaith’s arrows only caused superficial wounds, but Aethelred rappelled, rolled and swung his two-handed sword, decapitating an enemy. Arisha killed another with her halberd, then one more. After that, they were content to let the last three flee.

The bodies had orc-forged gear, and a strange sigil combining Xasu’s cross with the mark of Colm Devilbinder, mad wizard of the depths — the one whose sign originally inspired Liam to hire them. Eileen noted these factions’ opposed ethical parameters — Law against Chaos — and wondered what would inspire an alliance.

They struck a new camp to sleep out the last watches. Just before dawn, Aethelred saw a silent, strangely-garbed woman with a slashed face, bearing scalpels and pantomiming. Aethelred stepped out of the shadows to show himself.

A shadow crossed the moon. The woman went from wandering some distance away to appearing right in front of him. Then she tore her face off.

Aethelred’s hair grew white streaks and he ran, screaming. This awoke his allies. Kaith and Arisha also ran away from a terror that robbed them of years. The rest stayed calm, but still ran; Quareth had the presence of mind to summon a mist that hid their passage. Each of them saw the worst thing in the world on that fleshless face.

Later, far from the camp, all but one of them regrouped. Only Kaith ran astray. He looked into the night, lost, and the others wondered where he was as dawn broke on October 11th, 250,000 years from now.

Notes: They levelled up from treasure this time — and from one high value item they haven’t yet identified. Tonight was all random encounters — three from the table I made for the vicinity of the dungeon (a double orc encounter and  the last bandits) and one wilderness encounter from the DMG: a ghost.

Mechanical imbalance was a big factor in making tonight fun. Eileen’s scroll was too powerful for her enemies. It obliterated them. The bandits started on bad footing because they were intimidated, and never managed to regroup even though they were actually 2 HD elites. The ghost was so overpowering as to make anything but clever flight suicide. Half the party aged 10 years! Good times.

I decided to change magic user spellcasting to remove normal rest times. Now spell slots have a study period of 1 hour + 1 hour per spell level, and a refresh/rest period of the same duration. High Intelligence magic users can eliminate one 1st level slot study or rest period per point of large Int bonus, 1 period per point of medium Int bonus for 2nd level spell slots, and 1 per point of small Int bonus for 3rd level spell slots.

What am I talking about with the bonuses? I now use a unified table for ability scores — but not unified just as they are in BECMI or D20. Check it out:

Ability Score Modifiers

Ability Score Large Mod. Medium Mod. Small Mod.
1 -7 -6 -5
2 -6 -5 -4
3 -5 -4 -3
4 -4 -3 -2
5 -3 -2 -1
6 -2 -1 0
7 -2 0 0
8 -1 0 0
9 -1 0 0
10 0 0 0
11 0 0 0
12 1 0 0
13 1 0 0
14 2 0 0
15 2 1 0
16 3 2 1
17 4 3 2
18 5 4 3
19 6 5 4
20 7 6 5
21 8 7 6
22 9 8 7
23 10 9 8
24 11 10 9
25 12 11 10
Posted in Tabletop RPGs: Art Without Prestige | Tagged , | 1 Comment

From AD&D to Alt D&D

My AD&D1e game has been a chance to designing a fantasy game in the organic, iterative fashion that formed the basis for the earliest game designs and is probably still the most common type of private game design. I’ve got to tell you that nothing quite matches the experience of starting with a familiar game and making change after change to deal with what you encounter in play. Sometimes I’ve ended up with the same solutions as D20 designers, such as increasing AC. Sometimes I’ve added a new system that’s really an old system with a spin. For example, instead of roll under ability score checks, I just ask players to roll and add – and they succeed on a 20 or higher.

I’ve really grown to love AD&D1e as a game of its own, however, and understand it now much better than I did when I was a child, playing Dragonlance or running my own game world hacked together out of Dragon Magazine articles, canned modules and seat-of-the-pants improvisation. AD&D1e is a grownup game, believe it or not: an RPG that requires a slow, deliberate exploration of your options, plenty of discussion and a willingness to look up fiddly bits. I used to think that this was an indictment of the game’s design, but I got turned around from a chat with Ed Greenwood where he talked about his encounters with wargamers and how “slow” they seemed, while the deliberated over the next moves on huge hex maps. This also explains why 1e’s text meanders so damn much; organization was just not as big deal when collectively touring the books is part of the ride.

Once you look closely, you come to understand that with all the bells and whistles intact, AD&D1e is a game of remarkable cohesion and subtlety. You can encounter some crazy things, but encounter reactions determine whether you’ll step right in to a fight. Charisma is an extraordinarily powerful ability score because it influences henchman and hireling numbers and loyalty. Weapon vs. AC adjustments justify the large weapon table. So do the special abilities of certain weapons. It’s not a perfect game, but it’s not just a bunch of crazy shit hacked together in the way even supporters claim. It sure seemed that way to me when I was a teenager, but I played it in an impatient, edited form. It looks to me that this half-game is the AD&D OSRIC emulates.

Most of the changes I’ve made have been ways to keep the behaviour of the system while appeasing my generation’s decreased patience. For example, even though I use increasing AC, I add -5/+5 modifiers at 1 and 20, respectively to emulate the old tables. I’ve shifted to a 20-sided die where possible. I use a universal ability score table, but it has three entries per score – between them, I can emulate most of the older mechanics.

Changes to the real output of the system are only just starting to establish themselves. I added critical hits (If a natural 20 is also a hit). The biggest change I’ve made is to eliminate the daily rest requirement for magic user spells. MUs now have a study time per spell slot equal to 1 + spell level hours, and a slot “recharge” time of the same duration. Spell slots represent the maximum number that can be memorized and ready to go at any given time.

Eventually, this will turn into its own game, and I might even publish it. For now, I’m enjoying designing a game the old fashioned way, how most of us do game design in the beginning, but unlike many people – including a younger me – I’m not fixing something broken. I’m learning the cut of the suit, appreciating the craftsmanship, and tailoring it with care.

Posted in RPG Theory, Tabletop RPGs: Art Without Prestige | Tagged , , , | 6 Comments

Toy Dogma 3

The first thing we need to do is stop lying.

Tabletop roleplaying game theory used to concentrate on finding ways to describe the hobby and find connections with other types of art and culture. For about a decade, this form of inquiry has largely been suppressed partly as a matter of deliberate intent and partly as a side effect of basic changes in how the Internet functions for people. Dead tree publications, Usenet and the static web were the primary vectors for serious (though only pseudo-academic – academic work on RPGs was and remains a disappointing pretence indulged by partisan hacks) discussion. The rise of simple forum interfaces and blogging essentially erased this legacy.

That’s why most of the people who will read this will probably not by familiar with any form of TRPG theory that existed before 2000, except where it was ripped off without clear acknowledgement (as it has been many times).

Modern TRPG theory is primarily designed to create false tautologies. These are the signs:

  • It relies on terminology that’s been invented whole cloth instead of evolved from cousin media.

(Engagement with other media theory and politically engaged discourse can reveal problems. Talking about a theory from within its invented language makes it difficult to find flaws.)

  • Its primary discourse is based on marketing, rather than the substance of the medium/pastime.

(Most TRPG theory groups closely align discussions with how games ought to be designed with how they ought to be sold. Theory discussions are preoccupied on how to make games appealing to perceived market segments, and spam is usually permitted and traded.)

  • Its communities value statements of faith, conversion and belonging.

(Typical narratives of belonging include dissatisfaction with play, and “Actual Play” stories about converting to a community’s favoured practices.)

  • It is especially attractive to people who have been unsuccessful roleplayers.

(There are many instances of more active participants in communities admitting that they don’t play TRPGs anymore. This is sometimes difficult to trace – for example, a few years ago former Forge poster Jack Spencer Jr. admitted that he had not played any RPG in a long, long time, then erased every trace of having made that statement. Beyond that, the basic story people tell about getting involved in theory is that they were part of some failed experience. Naturally, this experience is almost never reported to be that person’s fault.)

I’m not interested in inventing false tautologies to ease disappointments in my own gaming. I greatly enjoy my gaming and count myself a “naturally” successful gamer. I want to know where my enjoyment comes from – that’s the first question in this investigation.

To find the answer we’ll need to find ways of talking about TRPGs that connect to other fields. We’ll also need to find new ways of talking about fundamental concepts. Some popular language is superficially useful, but contains assumptions liable to take us the wrong way.

What needs to go?

Ideas Disconnected from Other Types of Culture: TRPG thinking avoids connections with other bodies of critical theory and practice. For example, Forge theory uses a simple concept called “stance” even though mainstream literary criticism from Frye onward provides examples of multi-levelled engagement with texts.

Ideas Validated Through Marketing: By “marketing” I’m not just talking about the kind of things gamers readily identify. Now that the majority of commercial TRPG activity rests within long-tail offerings, conversational marketing occurs at all levels. Most RPG theory work is explicitly connected to what theorists are selling you, and of course have linked communities. So in lieu of arguments and partial commitments (like the game, hate the theory) discussions are now enmeshed in circular, interlocking modes of persuasion (to be in the community you need to commit to the game, to commit to the game you need to believe in the theory, to believe in the theory you need to commit to the community

Ideas That Disguise Individuality: By “individuality” I mean the basic assumption that every player’s involvement is dynamic and unique. It’s incredibly destructive to our understanding of games to suppress this with contrived social contracts, hard-coded stances and other tools designed to delete the fact of individuality from the discussion.

Finding our way back will help us identify the patterns of success that arise naturally instead of through indoctrination. I feel that this is absolutely vital for innovation and artistic growth.

So it becomes time to talk about what TRPGs are all about. We have some rules to keep us honest now, so we have to get basic, say things like:

  • In TRPGs, participants communicate.

Then:

  • In TRPGs, participants communicate about fictional narratives.

. . . and we can even take it to:

  • In TRPGs, participants communicate to establish details about fictional narratives that are not yet defined.

Even “fictional” might be stretching it! I can see an RPG-like process being used to build a more coherent account of real events. I don’t think this has ever been done. See what insights you can get from returning to the source? Note that I also said “narratives.” We have rules now. We can’t just invent a shared story box into which we throw our ideas because we’re not allowed to disguise individuality. That includes individual accounts of the fiction. We accept these differences as a basic fact, not a problem to be suppressed.

Maybe we can say:

  • In TRPGs, participants communicate to establish details about related fictional narratives that are not yet defined.

And finally, let’s get really bold with:

  • In TRPGs, participants communicate using rules and customs to establish details about related fictional narratives that are not yet defined.

Now it’s time to cautiously build. We have a basic statement of what people to in TRPGs. This statement inspires questions that in turn inform the answer to the first question I posed at the beginning of the series: What do naturally successful gamers do?

I want to know:

  • What kind of communication takes place?
  • How do participants use rules and customs while communicating?
  • What relationship exists between participants’ narratives?

I’ll get to these next time.

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Descent, Part Four (Final)

Part Three is here. All sections here.

It’s a giant’s cupped hands, carved of red granite shot with white veins: lightning and blood. Aya steps aboard. The boat’s ten cubits long, but four old Bahn-Erl eunuchs shove it in as if it’s made of reeds and driftwood. They shake bone dust off their feet and retire to their posts: ritual arches along the most worn paths to the shoreline. They’ll die because one oath demands that they never abandon their stations, but the other punishes anyone who might eavesdrop on the Parley.

The boat moves by mental command. No oar disturbs the mirror-fluid surface of the Wound. Aya inspects her hand’s reflection, perfect but for the smallest travelling warp.

It’s an unusual venue for solitude. All Bahn-Erl have  been baptized by the Wound. Save for certain adaptations to the Great Below, they’re physically identical to Brightside Erlkon until their fathers thrust them into mirror-fluid. A man dips his babe in left-handed; the mother guards protects them from rivals and child-thieves.

The Queen’s ichor enters through the pores. When the baptism succeeds, that liquid organ powers innate sorcery and provides the tribe’s unique colour — without it they’re white as filtered salt. Her essence deforms or kills as often as it exalts. After withering their hands through repeated exposure, potent fathers amputate them. Silver caps inscribed with the crests of their offspring cover the stumps. When a child’s body ripples or breaks from exposure it’s left to drown. The bones wash ashore. There are millions.

The place is usually crowded, full of sobbing.

Aya, Archpriest of the King of the Gods, sings the song at the heart of her order’s twenty-first Mystery. It’s a brief, precise code screamed to a gatekeeper woven into the fabric of Time. The thought-form obeys its programming. Cosmic laws slacken.

The Queen’s face breaks the surface during the final syllable.

Beautiful, hairless and onyx-coloured, human-like, so large that the hands of the boat would be those of Her fresh-blooded newborn, She blinks, and droplets of the Wound roll down and red-shift bloody illumination, pulling light to the end of Time. Her mouth gasps and contorts like a drowning woman’s but no sound issues forth, not even a wind in the air that great lungs might produce. She carves her words on Aya’s psyche instead.

. . . voice so pretty. We made him beautiful to keep all the beauty of Woman-born coded into the Ladder of Creation. Where is my son? Why does he send you to call in his stead?

“The Parley, First-Fallen.”

Again, he abuses my love for you Speaking Peoples who created us, and who we created to live again forever. We remade All for your immortality, though our instruments grew rebellious, and you became their playthings.

Listen:

In the beginning there were no Gods but in your minds.They suggested the possibilities of self-evident virtue and indestructible consciousness: aspirations you chased with machines, wars and finally, diversification of mind and form. You confused your own genetic and memetic tongues, made yourself into Troll, Dero, Erl and more.  You transmitted whole minds to the farthest fires on invisible chords. You failed. No cure for death or inconstant beauty.

In fact, your investigations elaborated the problem. You discovered ageless flesh, but learned that Time itself was dying. You uncovered laws of form and love, but that they were spandrels of foraging and mating tactics, ever carnal and trivial.

So you mortal tribes gathered for a final attempt. You refined all the Arts of creating life and mind, perfecting it, and tuning its intentions. You made a final clade of creatures  with perfect love and supreme minds — and when you made us, we had always been, for we defeated Time, and made it a loop instead of a road to final Night.

We made dominions in the fabric of Creation and sapient patterns to be commanded by your will and intuition. We made the Gods to be your slaves.

“I know the Mystery, First-Fallen, though most do not. We give the Gods their due now do not make them devices for our wills. The war is ended that we may restore the deep order you cast aside with your immoderate love — but we remember that love still, and we come to bargain in the light of its goodwill.

“You know my Lord. His mercy will last until the Uttermost Extinguishment. He puts you to the question:

“What have you learned about the Woman-born?”

The Mother of God’s head rises fully from the deep, tendrils of the magic mirror for hair, for gorgon’s serpents twisting. She wears the thin-mouthed grimace of a woman holding back incredible anger — and on Her cheek, Aya sees her own face with the same expression. But the Queen’s eyes are matte coals.

We should have respected mortal nature. Beauty comes from the lives you build within mortality and compulsion. You glory within your cage.

“No, that’s not it. I’m sorry.”

WHY.

“The Parley is over. You’ll continue to permitted the Bahn clade as your honour guard and experiment.”

YOU ARE ROTFLESH STRETCHED OUT UPON A FALLEN LINE OF HISTORY. I’M A CIRCLE THAT CURVES ENDLESSLY, THROUGH AGES OF METAL AND MILLION-MANSION’D CITIES. I WILL OUTLIVE YOUR DOMINION.

“But you won’t command the little lines of our lives — our todays and tomorrows. This is a sad thing. The Gods say we made you to exceed us.”

Fractures appear on the Queen’s face as Aya says this. She fell into shards and dust, projection abandoned, by the time the archpriest’s boat lands ashore atop all the little skulls.

* * *

The little boy’s named Sesh. Aya puts the deepsilver circlet on his head.

“Close your eyes and see through its magic,” she says. “It’ll take time for you to adapt to the sun.”

She follows with a blindfold; even light through his eyelids is too intense to bear. The Bahn-Erl princeling still peeks, gasps at unknown colours before the agony takes him.

He’ll weep again eventually, just like he did when he approached Aya at the tunnel home. His family banished for bringing her in. He was stained with the ill omens of Brightside and the hated Gods. He was afraid then, but he didn’t hate his clan. Bahn-Erl do not begrudge cruelty.

This one will learn. The lesson will be more bitter than new sunlight, but Sesh will savour it, sense its complexities as Aya never can. She’ll point him to the knowledge like a true mother and despite the challenges of the old darkness, raise him to exceed her.

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The Hundred Millionth Day, Session Nine

They killed the riders sent to avenge their ambush on the bandit fortress. After that, they disposed of the bodies via dead fall and began a slow circle back to the enemy’s ancient citadel. After killing sixteen enemies they were determined to finish the job. Eileen’s retainer Lon was an able guide, newly loyal after his former employers proposed to use him as a scapegoat in parley.

(I also misunderstood and thought the characters were headed home, so they probably should have taken less time to get back. Fortunately they said they were concentrating on stealth and safety over speed, so I got to even things out based on a rough estimate of how quickly they would travel.)

The adventurers rightly predicted that the bandits would send another group. Lon told them that perhaps half of the original bandit camp remained. The leaders — half-orc assassin Sneer and his confidantes — would take up the case.  They saw signs of another party as they made their way to attack the fort on the night of the third day, and it was confirmed when Kaith, hunting for a stealthy scouting route, spotted the death-white half-orc taking aim from a perch in a tree. Kaith had time to take a defensive posture, but Sneer’s arrow still had a chance to bury itself in a lung, dropping him instantly.

(We use critical hits for double damage — real double damage, not “roll twice” — on a natural 20, provided it would have hit. The assassin inflicted 10 points, leaving Kaith at -2, but he was lucky! No surprise meant no Assassination Table, where the 4th level Sneer had a 65% chance of success, if I remember right.)

Battle was a desperate exchange of missiles. Lon loosed arrows from his bow — one wide, the other ripping through the enemy’s triceps and Eileen unleashed a Magic Missile to moderate effect. Quareth ran to heal his half-brother. They heard hooves from around the corner of the nearby cliff face.

Sneer gutted Eileen with an arrow next. She fell. (Dropped to negative HP as well. Ow.)

Lon was there to administer a potion, but it was still a frightening setback. The hooves — two horses — got louder, then . . . stranger?

Little did they know that they weren’t just tracked by enemies! Arisha the monk, long absent to pursue martial-meditative studies in Ostrakopolis, had returned to Heron’s Rock. She’d hired a ranger (whose odious do-gooding was grating, but at least ensured an honest job) to set her on the right path and from there, had shadowed the enemy as they prepared the ambush!

(The truth: I sent Arisha away because her player was busy with PhD studies in Toronto. Player K. knocked on the door at PM, surprising us all in a great way, and I rapidly improvised a way for her to get back in the thick of things.)

Arisha cut one horse’s leg and its rider lost control, falling off his mount. She let him lie and ran for the other.

The duel of targeteers continued. Kaith recovered with a handful of Goodberries and rolled behind cover. Quareth let loose with his sling.

Eileen got revenge, hurling a dart into Sneer’s cheek. (Another crit!) but he stayed in his perch (Natural 20 morale check!).  Sneer and Lon exchanged superficial arrow-wounds. Arisha caught up with the mounted cleric, vaulted on her horse, and knocked her out instantly, sending her crashing to the ground. The monk revealed her return as the horse ambled around the corner, confused at the sudden loss of its original rider. She paused only to wince at being struck with two Magic Missiles — the enemy magus! — turn her horse around, trample her foe with the horse, and decapitate him with her halberd.

That was enough to convince Sneer to flee. He jump from tree to cliff, but wounded and frightened, could not find handholds to make his way down (failed Climb roll!). Quareth entangled him, Eileen struck him with another dart, and Kaith shot an arrow into his neck, spraying the vine-covered cliff with blood.

The only living enemy was the cleric, who recovered consciousness just in time to be grappled, locked and put in a position to be offered instant death if she continued to resist.

(K, the player, succeeded in a grapple using the old AD&D rules, and then rolled 00 on the results table!)

That was it. The bandits leaders were dead or captured. Lon guessed that once word made it back to the fort, the survivors would be a broken force and flee. It was the evening of October 10th in the future.

Notes: This session featured another fun fight. The PCs improbably prevailed against a 4th level assassin and his two 3rd level buddies — a magic-user and cleric. Some fluke rolls definitely helped. The enemies were the bandits’ main NPC elites (well, in their level of the dungeon) so that’s basically it! Funny thing is that they haven’t even set foot in the main dungeon — the one I’ve had mapped since the first session!

Said it before and I’ll say it again: Missile attack priority for bows and darts (due to multiple “attack routines”) makes AD&D way different from the game you probably played when you chucked out half of the rules. Darts kick ass at 3 RoF — they go first and last in most situations.

I’m thinking of further simplifying “thief” abilities, though the automatically-better principle (you can sneak as a non-thief, but people can find you — thief-y sneakiness has almost no chance of detection) will still get used.

I’ve doubled monster/NPC XP values and I usually round up to the nearest easy number. I do want to speed things up, and this works well. Steve finally got Kaith to 2/2. I don’t notice any problems with the new system I use for multiclassing (add half Fighter advancement to the table of most expensive class, advance in both classes equally).

One last thing: Some of you might wonder how the game ties to the fiction I’ve been working on. Think of them as being like the old DC multiverse or like standard Marvel vs. Ultimate Marvel. They share concepts but are not beholden to each other. The stories are from a bit further back in time, and some events might have happened in the game. The Bahn-Erl from Descent will replace the drow, but I’ll call them “drow” in the game just to make things flow off the tongue naturally.

Posted in Tabletop RPGs: Art Without Prestige | Tagged , | 2 Comments

Descent, Part Three

Part One is here. Part Two is hereAll published sections here.

An hour past the charred wreckage of Aya’s revenge, her caryatid’s briefing proves its accuracy. Down here, humanity’s a slave clade. Eight Woman-born pull a jewel- studded cart by their collared necks. Wailing for light, they compete to bask in green, messy lines of light where the fungus glows. In the visible spectrum Aya sees battered fractions of men, shards of women: a wild eye her or there, or scabby fingers in hazy monochrome.

A Bahn-Erl child sits atop the cart. He’s three feet tall, knobby-kneed and swaying under the weight of oversized elf-mail. He giggles and looses a whip made of mirror-fluid. It flows from a V-shaped would in his wrist. A man cringes and pulls, stepping in his own shit. The chain gang fans out in contradictory directions. The cart only moves three feet but of course, that’s not  the point.

“Hail, princeling.” Aya addresses the boy in the High Mode, showing him the back of her hand. The custom says: I won’t be your slave, and you can’t make me one. “I’m an archpriest come from Brightside to see the Queen, as the storybooks and slave-sages told you. End your play and take me to your Marchioness.”

He slips the whip back into his skin and licks the flap of his wound with precious theatricality, making her wait with more High Mode posturing. Regardless, my will is paramount. Then he laughs and claps his hands like a human kid. “The primary argument in your favour, Dame, is that you’re not afraid of a dark elf and his retinue –”

“Only fools call you that, and these people are hardly an honour guard.”

“ — and you’ve some notion how to treat a lord of the Vault. But Dame, Pontifess, whatever you are, you could just be eloquent, crazy and lucky enough to stumble through the Wild Depths unmolested.”

Aya smiles like a mother. “I could skewer your will you on a geas, but that would choke my mission with diplomatic trivia. A well-mannered boy like you probably knows how he ought to be treated, even in the throes of kidnapping and forcible oathbinding.”

“Gentlemen know their sport, Dame.”

“Then I’ll take a crude tack.” She says the Name of the Death for Woman-Born. The boy’s slaves scream for half a heartbeat and fall. To the Deep Sight, they retain the basic charge of all matter but their life-flares are gone — the Gods took them.

“It’s mercy for them,” she says. “And it demonstrates my rank.”

“Yes, archpriest,” and the boy is a quick guide, once cowed. He sends feylight flickering; it summons riding salamanders for them both, though Aya must share hers with the Marquessate guard that arrives with them. The thin man’s armour is made of his mounts’ hide, wax-boiled with silver buckles. His face suggests he’d sneer if he spoke, but he only guides their mount with his wand-ankus, or uses it to summon ramps and gates from the stone. They heave out of the darkness, opening routes past the watch-beasts and undead automata.

They enter the Vault proper; Aya sees the Bloodstars shining purple in the rock of the great cavern ceiling and beyond, wandering lights in the Vault’s City Conflux. Their salamanders pick up the pace on familiar ground. The caraytid’s lecture manifests in a current of faces, shapes and scenarios as they run down the main avenue. A marriage-triad of Shrouded haggle by handsign for goblin-children. Ragged young mutants throw scrap bronze through the heads of impotent, silent ghosts, drinking wine and laughing. Vampires knife-fight on the duelling platform; concubine-trainers tilt man-high crystal decanters so that blood arcs into their mouths between rounds. The spigots look like patron devils. They stop to let a musical palanquin carried by lizard men pass. Bahn-Erl sing when they fuck, but at least these have hired a fifth saurian to walk alongside, playing the lute.

Eventually the last houses of Conflux recede. The Noble Zone’s carved crags and domes erupt from behind the next ridge, lining a crater in the Vault. It’s Queensfall. The Bloodstars are densest here, the light twilight-strong and flickering like the true sky. She left them as she fell, fragments of flesh as imperishable and poisonous as the Queen Herself.

Aya meets the expected diplomatic throng at a worn octagonal gate. She senses resentment at her unannounced visit, but her predecessors’ scrolls never said anything about calling ahead. Proxies for all six Machioness Majors trip over each others’ words. It’s been over a thousand years since the last Parley; the Bahn-Erl from that age have all killed themselves or gone mirror-mad; the thaumic fluid penetrates their brains. She’s challenged to a duel, offered a dalliance, drugged (this is easily countered by her blood-alchemy ring) and offered an elfblood elixir that would triple her lifespan but bar her from the afterlife. She ignores the faux pas; the Bahn-Erl know little of the Gods. Their Queen is all.

Beyond the basalt balustrade Aya sees Childskull Beach and the Lake of the Drowning Wound. “Take me there and follow the law your ancestors did. Don’t look or listen to the Parley.”

Then, in answer to a whisper: “Of course I’ll commit suicide if you try to torture the details out of me! I’m bound to secrecy by powers you can’t countermand. I’ll resist. If you come with catchpoles I’ll rely on my poor theurgy to issue a correction. Perhaps I’ll kill one of your sub-armies and in death, create an unwelcome rebalance of ambitions.

“As I said: Take me there. Fetch the old boat.”

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