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The Pattern Of Raindrops: A chessboard plotting technique


I’ve been trying to wrap my head around a practical way of engineering the process of writing a different kind of adventure for several years, and think I’m finally starting to get my head around it. There may be a technical term for this type of adventure, but if there is, I don’t know it.

I’m not even sure that I can explain it clearly, let alone offer an example. So you might need to bear with me as I plunge headlong into this exploration of the evolution of patterns in random events.

Random Events

Life is full of stuff that just happens. I’ve written about that in the past (Directed Plots, Undirected Narrative, and Stuff That Just Happens), but for a long time I’ve been thinking about extending the concept but putting some structure into the structureless.

The idea is that you have a series of unrelated events that occur in a completely unstructured way that nevertheless combine to form a broader narrative in a somewhat more structured fashion. Which is like saying “blue is a color” – it doesn’t actually tell you anything useful.

So let me try again: One random event follows another, but no event happens in isolation; the first provides a context for the second, and the second provides a context for a third, and so on.

The Evolution Of Patterns

This seems like an example of the phenomenon where people impose patterns to events not because there is an actual pattern but because humans are psychologically predisposed to see patterns even when none exist. But I want to be able to impose a non-obvious pattern onto these events that only crystallizes into clarity as the final piece of the puzzle falls into place. So there is a pattern there, after all. But how to achieve that without railroading the players? Because it all sounds very contrived.

That’s the dilemma that’s been percolating away at the back of my mind ever since the aforementioned article: how to link these apparently-random events together in a structured and deliberate way that remains opaque to the players until the right time without contrivance, while maintaining player independence.

Snippets In Parallel

The solution began to present itself by thinking about the game of chess. There are a very limited range of choices for any individual move, and the compounding of past moves places a context on those choices that eliminates many of them in practical terms of achieving the goal. Nevertheless, the number of possible configurations of the game explodes into the uncounted billions or more as it progresses while at the same time funneling down into a very few outcomes in an entirely natural manner – a game can be a draw, a victory for white, or a victory for black.

Using all that as an analogy for progress within an adventure began to give me an insight into the correct way of selecting and structuring the “random” events to confer the structure upon the adventure.

For a start, the “random” events would not be random at all; they would be dictated by the overall structure, like pieces in a jigsaw. Each piece in isolation would seem to be nothing more than a random splash of color, but put them together and they form a picture, placing each of those splashes into context. Each event would be a snippet of a series of partial stories existing in parallel with each other, threads in a tapestry, corresponding to the restricted repertoire of individual moves available to the pieces on the chess board at that point in the overall game.


The Circumstances Lend Significance

The next piece of the puzzle came from contemplation of how these snippets would interact. Each would have to be designed to achieve a certain mental, emotional, or interpretive response; what the actual event was that produced the response was irrelevant to this new style of adventure narrative. So long as each “move” achieved one of a limited set of predictable outcomes in terms of the overall plotline, the events themselves could be completely random, or could even form a separate and distinct pattern of their own.

Further insight came from pattern recognition itself, when I realized that a huge amount of an image can be thrown away and because of our ability as humans to recognize patterns, we could still identify the subject of the overall image. To illustrate how powerful this ability is – and how susceptible we are to be misled by it, as a result – take a look at the series of images to the right.

  • The first image is 100% complete.
  • In the second, I’ve thrown away half of the visual information – and the human mind barely notices.
  • For the third image, I’ve thrown away half of what was left – for every stripe of pixels with visual information, there are three black stripes of the same size. With only 1/4 of the original information, we definitely notice – but equally, we have no trouble recognizing the image despite the incompleteness of the information.
  • With the fourth image, I started getting serious – blocking out 1 in four horizontal rows as well as the vertical stripes. There is less than 19% of the original left – but the lake, trees, sky, and mountains are all still readily recognizable.
  • The final image really goes almost all the way. Only 6.25% of the original information is left – for every pixel of information, there are three columns and three lines in both directions that have been blacked out. Thunderbolt: The image content can still be seen!

An interesting aside: notice that color information is lost a lot more quickly than pattern recognition. The last two images are effectively black-and-white to the eye.

The Order Gives Meaning

In part, this is a result of looking at something very recognizable. If the image was very abstract, or something we don’t know very well, we would have rather more difficulty. In part, it’s conditioning – having already seen the image in more complete form, we recognize the elements that we can see and mentally stitch together these fragments to form a more cohesive whole. But mostly, it is because we see all these separate pieces at the same time.

If these isolated pixels were presented to us in random order, we would not be able to make rational sense of what we were seeing. Even randomly ordering the vertical stripes of information from ANY of these images (including the one that is “all there” completely destroys the meaning. We rely on the relationships between the discrete elements that we perceive and fill in the gaps with ‘something in between’ to produce a synthetic composite in our heads of the information that is there and that which is not, then interpret that as a whole image.

Finding Coherence

So there are two relationships that matter between these discrete elements: the relationship with the packets around it, and the order in which they are presented. Both need to be present, and to make sense, in order to have a narrative consisting of discrete scenes form a coherent whole.

If either are missing or obscured, the overall story will make no sense until the missing/obscured elements are supplied. Once that is done, the story begins to make sense as a whole.

States Of Ignorance

How to tell a structured story with none of the elements that connect one piece to another? One way is obviously the move-and-countermove of the chess game, with one side blind to what the other was doing. Picture a situation in which white only knows the position of those black pieces that are in immediate contact with one of his own, while Black can see the whole board.

In a way, that’s an analogy for every adventure, and one of the key pieces of advice that has been offered over the years is not to confuse the omniscience of the GM with the perceptions of the enemy characters. If white were PCs, then both sides should be blind to anything they cannot directly perceive.

But in this case, White is the players, and Black is the GM, wearing his story-teller’s hat. And that’s a horse of a completely different color.

It’s entirely normal for the GM to make clear the relationship between cause and effect, linking one scene in an adventure to the scenes that come before and after, so that the overall plotline is an emerging picture in the minds of the players. Under this structure of adventure, I don’t want that to be the case; I want the events to seem random and disconnected until the whole comes together.

Another way of looking at it is the three blind men trying to describe an elephant – one finds the body, another the ears, and the third the trunk, and all get very different impressions. The goal is to be able to put the PCs into the position of the blind men and the plotline in the place of the elephant. In fact, we want to use a simulated elephant so that the three (or more) pieces don’t even seem to connect, because there are in-between parts missing.

Dismembered pieces of plot

Trying to plan something like this without a preordained outcome from each of the scenes is a total nightmare. It’s hard enough doing so when everything connects seamlessly with cause following effect in a more traditional story structure. Solving this problem was the hardest part of the whole project.

If the PCs only get half the story until the penultimate stage of the adventure, when we want it all to come together, the easiest method is to have the outcome – whatever it may be – of each step in the plot to determine not just which piece of the overall plot they are going to get to see next, but which parts they aren’t going to see.

At the same time, these plot elements are not going to be predefined. The players and GM are to free to let the plot grow organically, so that the player’s awareness of events and their responses to it appear to form a pattern that is sensible to them. Only at the penultimate stage of the adventure will the missing pieces be supplied, so that the players can discover the real story.

The solution to the problem is to define scene Templates, not scenes; then fit the choices of the PCs into those templates to produce the next step in the story as experienced by the PCs. These templates define the pieces of the puzzle – the ones that are present, and the ones that are missing. They permit players to chase after red herrings or instigate direct action aimed at solving the mysteries with which they are confronted. Nested beginning-middle-ending “loops” as Johnn used to call them, or subplot arcs, to use my preferred terminology, define a template and make each scene a complete mini-plotline unto itself.

Defining these templates in fairly generic terms based on a generalization of the disassembled “elephant” permits them to be strung together completely independently of each other. What is then needed is a scaffolding to put the real structure in place.

A structured scaffolding

It was figuring out how to construct the structured scaffolding that was the key to solving the problem, and was the item that has caused the greatest delay. Finally, though, I think I’ve come up with a way of doing so. And it was a solution that was staring me in the face the whole time.

I started out by thinking of the situation using a chess analogy, and that is where the solution lies. Picture this: Turn a chessboard to a 45-degree angle, so that one of the black squares becomes a diamond at the top. This is the initial subplot that launches the whole adventure. From this initial position, you can move to any of the adjacent “squares”, or to any “square” on the same row, defining the plot template for the next part of the adventure. If they stick to the black squares, the white squares would represent the pieces of the plotline that the PCs don’t get to discover.

Alternatively, the PCs can make a different choice and move from a black square onto one of the white squares. That means that they then start discovering the white-squares part of the plot while missing out on the black squares. Changing colors is effectively the same as a plot twist.

In terms of narrative, it’s all move-and-countermove. The opposition or overall problem makes the first move; the PCs respond, dictating which course of action they will be following when the next piece of the plotline happens, and placing the template of the situation into context. The enemy then makes a countermove – this can either be obvious to the PCs (an event on the same color as the square they currently occupy) or can be hidden from them (an event on a square of the opposite color). A player can even have a flash of insight or make a correct assumption and reposition themselves on the board on an entirely different row, from which events then develop. For a while, the number of ways the plot can shape itself grow exponentially. But, as you proceed down the board toward the far corner, your range of options narrows until the PCs are either on one of the two bottom-most black squares and need a plot twist to get them into the final white square, or there has already been a plot twist, and they will be on one of the three white squares that lead to the ultimate conclusion of the plot.


A three-square-sided illustration

This illustration should make what I’m talking about a little clearer. The possible outcomes from the starting encounter are b, c, or e. From b, the characters can advance directly to encounters d, e, or g, or indirectly to c or f. Note that boards with an odd number of squares do not require the plot twist that changing colors are specified to entail, but if there is a plot twist with an odd number of squares, there has to be a second plot twist to get to the final solution, i.

With that clarified, I can get back to explaining the structure that I had in mind. If characters move to the right as shown (from a to c, for example), it represents a Red Herring (1 space), a diversion or mistake (2-3 spaces), or a false trail (3+ spaces). (From the direction of movement, this signifies something from “out of left field”). The most direct line, a to e to i, will not normally be allowed, because going directly to e means that the characters won’t have the necessary information to enable them to get to i.

So, let’s list the valid solutions:

  • a – b (plot twist) – d – g (2nd plot twist, red herring) – i (3rd plot twist)
  • a – b (plot twist) – d – g (2nd plot twist, red herring) – h – i (3rd plot twist)
  • a – b (plot twist) – d – e (red herring) – g (2nd plot twist) – i (3rd plot twist)
  • a – b (plot twist) – d – e (red herring) – h (2nd plot twist, red herring) – i (3rd plot twist)
  • a – b (plot twist) – d – f (diversion/mistake) – h (2nd plot twist) – i (3rd plot twist)
  • a – b (plot twist) – e – g (2nd plot twist) – i (3rd plot twist)
  • a – b (plot twist) – e – h (2nd plot twist, red herring) – i (3rd plot twist)
  • a – b (plot twist) – c (red herring) – e – i (2nd plot twist)
  • a – b (plot twist) – c (red herring) – h – i (2nd plot twist)
  • a – e – g (plot twist) – i (2nd plot twist)
  • a – e – h (plot twist, red herring) – i (2nd plot twist)
  • a – c (plot twist, red herring) – e – g (2nd plot twist) – i (3rd plot twist)
  • a – c (plot twist, red herring) – e – h (red herring, 2nd plot twist) – i (3rd plot twist)
  • a – c (plot twist, red herring) – e – i (2nd plot twist)
  • a – c (plot twist, red herring) – f – g (2nd plot twist) – i (3rd plot twist)
  • a – c (plot twist, red herring) – f – h (2nd plot twist) – i (3rd plot twist)

There are undoubtedly others as well. These don’t cover the innumerable “flash of insight” options discussed a moment ago, for example.

Every 2nd step, it should also be remembered, represents a countermove or response by the villain or opponent. a-b, a-c, or a-e are all moves by the players in response to the initial move from a.

The Initial Encounter

The next step would be to describe the initial encounter, in basic terms. Because I’m thinking of this in terms of use for my superhero campaign, where each of the PCs has (or is developing) a private life outside the team, I’m deliberately going to use a fantasy-game approach for all examples within this article.

“Thief & known pickpocket bumps into PC Alpha while running from the watch” sounds like a fun opening encounter. So we would have the ‘where are you’ establishing narrative, the collision, and an encounter with the watch. The thief may get away, he may not. The watch will tell the PC who the NPC is, and probably advise him to check that he still has all his valuables about his person. He may do, he may be missing something. That’s the sum total of our opening sequence, space ‘a’ on the board.

Thunderclouds on the Horizon: The initial situation

Having decided the first encounter, with some details still to be decided, we can now establish what the overall plotline is going to be about. The only restriction is that it seem to have absolutely nothing to do with the initial encounter.

“Necromancer/Villain steals magic item to use to twist the spirits of Elysium/Heaven to the cause of Evil.” Not bad. “Businessman attempting to unseat the head of the tradesman’s guild, PCs get caught in the crossfire” probably works better at our example 9-squares scale, though. The first idea would have required too much discovery to fit within the 9-boxes constraint – even though it’s the idea that was lurking in the back of my mind as an example throughout this article!

Little plot threads, all in a row

Next, we count the number of rows of diamonds, both black and white, ignoring box a. There’s the b-c row; there’s the d-e-f line; the g-h row; and finally, of course, the i square. That’s four. (I’d need to check more examples, but I immediately find myself wondering if this count is always one more than the number of squares being used as counted on the side of the board? Never mind, it’s easy enough to count each time).

To each of these, we assign a generic label that describes a step in the plot:

  • b-c: PC attacked
  • d-e-f: PCs investigate a mystery
  • g-h: One enemy neutralized
  • i: Revelation/Discovery, Confrontation, Aftermath

Notice that these are quite independent of each other. We know that i is the conclusion of the adventure, but everything else could happen in any order, and any of these items could be left out without compromising the final plotline.

taking a compass bearing

On any given line, there are only a few possible combinations of entry specification (plot twist, red herring, etc) and event label (PC attacked, etc). What’s more, which of those comes into play depends entirely on the choices the PCs make; each of the above sequences is independent of each other, but they can combine to tell a coherent story. It sounds like we’re all set.

Or are we? It’s all well and good to say “from a you can go to b, c, or d” – but how is the GM to choose? There are no labels to these choices. We know that two of them involve plot twists but that’s all about the plot after the reaction to what the PCs do in scene A.

Actually, there’s one thing more that we know, and it’s that information – in combination with those other factors – that defines the solution to this remaining problem. We know that each square consists of both a PC reaction and an NPC action. We don’t know which one goes first, because that depends on how we get into that square, something that we can’t predict, as the number of valid combinations listed makes clear. In general terms, the antagonist is either responding to what the PCs have just done (a ‘predictable’ choice) or is responding out of ignorance of what the PCs were going to do (a ‘wild’ choice).

In theory, the plot can proceed from its current square to any of the adjacent squares that we haven’t been to before. To try and give the plot impetus and move it toward a solution, we have stated that the preferred direction of travel is downwards, and the second choice is side-to-side, but that’s an ideal.

Expanding the plot

What needs to be done is to further detail the cell contents based on the generic label and the things that we DO know about the cells. That then permits us to choose the action that most makes sense under the circumstances of what the PCs have done and what the antagonist knows about that action. (This is where the true limitation of this small example layout becomes apparent – we don’t have very many choices to fill. It would normally be the case that we would have a lot more choices to fill – as many as eight in a single line if we were using a full 8×8 chessboard). So let’s do that now (my sidenotes on the process are in italics):

  • a: Initial scene. The thief wasn’t trying to steal from the PCs, he wanted to plant something amongst the PCs effects to use the PC as an unwitting mule to carry the goods away from the scene of the crime. This is the opening move of a gambit by one of the antagonists (call him enemy #1) to get the PCs to eliminate his rival (enemy #2) for him.
    • a: After the ‘pickpocket strike’ the PC discovers a small handbook that he has never seen before, filled with numbers, possibly a code of some sort, hidden amongst his possessions. This is actually accounts information, evidence of bribery and corruption on the part of enemy #2.
  • b-c: PC attacked. Which PC is attacked, why, and by whom? Those are the critical questions. In our example, we have two defined factions working at cross-purposes, so this is easy. When you don’t have a predefined solution, or you need more than two answers, you may need to get more creative.
    • b: Enemy #1 arranges for Enemy #2 to learn that the PCs have the stolen incriminating evidence. Enemy #2 sends forces to attack them and get it back. The plot twist is that a potential ally is being cast as an enemy.
    • c: Enemy #1′s forces, disguised as belonging to a third party (enemy #3), attack the party to retrieve the planted evidence. This attack is intended to fail. The fact that the attackers are not who they seem to be is intended to be easily discovered; enemy #3 is someone with the ability/resources to decode the notebook and the authority to remove enemy #2 from power. The plot twist is either that the PCs will fail to penetrate the deception and make enemy #3 an actual enemy, or that they have been successfully manipulated by enemy #1 into acting against enemy #2, a potential ally.
  • d-e-f: PCs investigate a mystery. We now have three factions other than the PCs embroiled in this little plot. The PCs have one three choices to pursue: they can try to decode the book, they can try to chase down the thief (if he wasn’t taken away by the watch), or they can pursue whoever they think attacked them either by going to enemy #3 (requires c) or learning about the rivalry between enemies #1 and #2, then approaching enemy #1, thinking him a possible ally (requires b).
    • d: The PCs attempt to decode the book’s contents either themselves or by seeking out an expert. If this leads to a plot twist, the expert will discover that the book is a forgery. This is the most direct route to the conclusion, confronting enemy #1. …which is why it is the left-most of the options. Either way, the nature of the book will be revealed, telling the PCs part of what is going on, but not who is doing what to whom.
    • e: The PCs pursue whoever they think attacked them either by going to enemy #3 (requires c) or learning about the rivalry between enemies #1 and #2, then approaching enemy #1, thinking him a possible ally (requires b). Ultimately, this boils down to the continued success of enemy #1 at manipulating the PCs, because they are continuing to follow the sequence of events he has mapped out for them. Enemy #3 will be able to identify what the book purports to be, but will not discover that it is a forgery.
    • f: The PCs chase down the thief. Having fulfilled his role in the plot, the Thief is now a red herring. When they catch him, they can interrogate him. He knows that he was paid to plant the forged book on them by enemy #1, but he is scared of enemy #1, and at the same time, sees an opportunity to profit from the situation; he will name enemy #3 as responsible, thinking that he can extort enemy #2 for not sending the PCs after him. If the PCs are any good at their jobs, they will immediately find the Thief to be an unreliable source of information, and not fall for his attempted deception. There are four possible outcomes from this encounter: the PCs can be steered back to enemy #3 (square e), they can be misled by the thief into holding enemy #2 responsible (square h), they can decide to get the book deciphered independently because they mistrust the thief (square d) or they can force the thief to disclose enemy #1 as the manipulator (square g).
  • g-h: One enemy neutralized. There are two antagonists, and we need two entries, so this is pretty straightforward. These squares almost always require a plot twist, unless the PCs are arriving at one of these squares directly from squares b or c. Coming from b means that the PCs have either fallen for the manipulations by enemy #1 hook line and sinker (h) and attacked what is ultimately the wrong individual from their point of view, or they have figured out that they are being manipulated and decide to confront their seeming-enemy (h) – so the nature of the confrontation will change, but not the identity of the person being confronted. Coming from (c) means that the party discovered enemy #1′s attempted deception and have decided to confront him directly without investigating via (e). That in turn means that he would be able to attempt to bluff his way out of it by claiming that enemy #2 is the one attempting to manipulate them, and that they have fallen for it! While this might seem like a plot twist, it’s actually enemy #1 doing more of the same, i.e. attempting to manipulate the PCs. But it’s far more likely that these squares will be reached by way of one of d, e, or f.
    • g: The PCs confront enemy #2. The nature of the confrontation depends on which square they are coming from, as described above. In the course of the encounter, the hostility between enemy #1 and #2 will be revealed/recapitulated. Either the PCs will succeed in having enemy #2 removed from power (just as enemy #1 wanted) or in recruiting him as an ally against enemy #1. If the former, they will discover enemy #2′s real “little black book”, revealing that the one they have is a forgery, and pointing the finger at their having been used by enemy #1. Either way, this leads to the conclusion.
    • h: The PCs confront enemy #1. Enemy #1 can attempt to bluff, and may or may not succeed, depending on how the PCs reached this position. If the bluff fails, enemy #1 will come clean, while still pointing the finger at enemy #2 as being corrupt.
  • i: Revelation/Discovery, Confrontation, Aftermath. There are three ways to get here – from e, from g, or from h. Ideally, the route will be g-i, making the confrontation with enemy #1. If the path is h-i, this will be a confrontation with enemy #2. The GM should not permit the e-i route, instead following the e-h path and reserving the conclusion to the plotline as being an encounter with enemy #2.
    • i: A final plot twist is required – enemy #3 stands revealed as having manipulated enemy #1 throughout in a bid to remove both enemy #1 and enemy #2. He can either be a good guy or worse than either of them – they may have been corrupt, but they stood in his way of implementing the harsh totalitarian rule that he demanded. He will then declare the PCs persona-non-gratis throughout the Kingdom, but give them 24 hours grace before coming after them as recompense ‘for services rendered’. This either leads to the real ultimate conclusion (as the PCs take down enemy #3, who started gloating a little too soon, thinking that his power and position would protect him, or to a sequel adventure in which the PCs work to bring about the overthrow of enemy #3, or simply to a change of circumstances in which enemy #3 has become the power behind the throne in this Kingdom. That’s up to the PCs, but most of the time I would expect one of the first two options to be their reaction. Or, if enemy #2 became allied to the PCs, that’s an entirely different outcome – they’ve done a deal with “a” devil which will no doubt come back to haunt them at some point in the future.

Ripples In Harmony

This plotting technique is a lot more work than writing a straightforward plotline, but it preserves complete independence of choice on the part of the players. There are multiple paths through to the ultimate outcome. Each step of each path creates a knock-on effect on the next step in the path, changing its context and meaning. Each step can be said to create a ripple through the plot structure, changing the shape of events to come so that they always lead to the plot conclusion. The great advantage is that, like a choose-your-own-adventure book, the same plot could be run with the same players a second time and would reach a conclusion that could be quite different – or exactly the same, but by a very different path.


Expanding the plotline

This all stems from one seemingly-random event. Adding more cells enables a bigger tapestry to be woven. The obvious place to start is with enemy #2, who is a very passive element in this outline. That’s the inevitable result of making enemy #1 the antagonist and enemy #2 the intended victim – and the PCs, the patsies.

To give enemy #2 his own scheme to bring down enemy #1, you could eliminate square (a) (moving its content to square b) and permitting two almost-simultaneous plots to be in motion at the same time. But that would be too complex a plot structure to fit our simple 3×3 squares. The minimum would be a 4×4 structure with the uppermost cell removed. You would then have a three-corridor overall structure in which the left represented enemy #1, the right represented enemy #2, and the middle contained the red herrings and the potential for the other two enemies to interact with each other’s schemes.

The obvious plot hole

There is one obvious plot hole that needs to be addressed: what if the players decide to split up and pursue all their leads at the same time?

The answer: let them. (d) says that enemy #1 is behind events, (e) says that enemy #2 is responsible, while (f) points the finger at enemy #3 (but in an unconvincing way). The players still have to make the choice of confronting enemy #1 or enemy #2 (confronting enemy #3 leads to e, which has already been addressed).

Of course, the players might get clever and try to lure enemies #1 and #2 into a direct confrontation with each other, bypassing both g and h, under this circumstance – which is perfectly acceptable as an outcome. And it would even succeed in unmasking the real culprit – enemy #3.

The other obvious plot hole

Finally, what if the PCs decide to do something other than (d), (e), or (f)? They might choose to simply get out of town and let the mess sort itself out. They might decide to take their suspicions to the watch, or to a figure of authority. If this happens, both watch and authority would demand proof – deciphering the code book would be necessary evidence. That leaves the players back with choices d or e, and the plotline back on track. Only if the PCs choose to opt out of the adventure altogether does this plotline not reach a satisfactory conclusion.

The Pattern Of Raindrops

By isolating plot developments in the manner described while keeping a structured relationship between them that is dictated by the overall plot, we create a patternless noise akin to the sound of individual raindrops. But listen closely, and this technique will yield the underlying pattern of the plotline.

To wrap things up, here’s a rotated chessboard for you all to use. Click on the image to open it in a new window, suitable for printing.


One final suggestion: if you summarize your ideas very concisely, you could write them on post-it notes and do your plotting on an actual chessboard. This would cut out all the hassle of using code letters to link your notes with the layout and make the process a lot easier.

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The Best: 2008-9

Updating the list of the “best posts” at Campaign Mastery has been on my to-do list for years. I’ve decided to finally bite the bullet and get it done, even if it means doing it as posts-in-progress here at the site. I’ve learned from past exercises not to try and do too much in any single post, so I’ve broken it up into five, and I’ll be doing one a month or so for the next five or six months. To look at, these posts might seem extremely empty. That’s because 99% of the job is throwing things away that didn’t make the cut. So, without further ado:

The Best Of 2008-2009

2008-2009 contained Campaign Mastery’s baby steps. Johnn and I were feeling our way towards a unique style and format for the site, learning as we went. We managed more than 100 posts in this period of time, so there were plenty to choose from. In fact, there were so many great articles that I found I couldn’t pick between these 17 entries.

In order of publication:

In the next part: The best of 2010

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By Popular Demand: The Ergonomics Of Dwarves


Finished at last! You may have noticed that there was no post, Monday, for the first time in a long time; well, there would have been, but I simply couldn’t get this finished in time, and by the time I realized that, it was too late to start another. Still, I don’t miss deadline often…

I had quite a lot of interest in the first of my articles on Ergonomics and a number of requests for more, especially covering those topics that I didn’t really get to expand on in Ergonomics and the Non-human, so here goes…

Why Dwarves?

Why choose Dwarves for the second race subjected to ergonomic scrutiny? There are two reasons: first, they are (after elves) perhaps the most iconic race available for PCs to play; they are common to a massive number of RPGs, not just D&D/Pathfinder. And second, they make the ideal illustration for the process, and especially how range of motion, aka Kinesiology, can affect the anatomical profile of a race. Elves touched on the subject, but focused more on the basics of mechanical action, i.e. limb length.

As always, this is just one possible view of Dwarves – it’s certainly not canonical. The purpose of these articles is not to redefine the species in question but to give GMs the tools to integrate the species within their own game worlds, reinforcing the verisimilitude and uniqueness of those worlds. Readers are encouraged to take the principles that I outlined in the first article and apply them to their own variations on the theme.

The other principle worth enumerating here (because it probably didn’t get enough air time in the first article) is the way in which the GM can cheat from “the back of the book”. We start with established common ground, apply the process and a bit of inspiration, and use other factors from the game world / basic description as our desired destinations. Whenever there’s a choice, choose the option that takes you closer to the desired end-point, which is to say, justifies and explains other aspects of the race’s profile. Those aspects might be social, or political, or biological, or psychological, or simply a reputation for being good at certain things; how cool is it when the biology of the race not only explains the basis of that reputation but gives it quantifiable details?

Basic Proportions of Dwarves

The most common view of Dwarves is that they are relatively short, with very solid proportions. This is often achieved by reducing the number of “heads” in the vertical measurement without changing the size of the head, relative to that of an ordinary human of equivalent vertical proportion.

The more “heads” there are in the original body-shape, the larger that body is relative to the head – and a small difference goes a long way. The iconic superhero look is based on 9 or 10 heads, while the normal human has 7.5 to eight. If the heads are both roughly the same size, then you end up with a far more muscular look. Take that enlarged body and compress it vertically by cutting out “heads” and you end up with a squat, broad shape. Enlarge the result back to the old super-human height and you end up with the Hulk, or the Thing from the Fantastic Four. Don’t do so, and you get the iconic Dwarf.

Of course, the decision of where to cut those heads is all-important. As a general rule of thumb, any reduction in limbs should be roughly equally divided amongst both upper and lower limbs, and should affect all four limbs equally. So the arms get shorter by the same amount as the legs. Cutting a half-head from the belly area gives an over-sized chest; cutting it from the upper body gives a rotund, portly (and overweight) look.

If these changes don’t go far enough, you can always add an extra quarter-head in width to the location of the shoulders, while also making them larger.

The upshot is that Dwarves have very wide shoulders and this is just as important to the anatomy of the race as their height is.


Dwarves weigh roughly the same as the full-height human of the same horizontal dimension, if not more. That implies that they have more bone and muscle, especially the first, as these are both more dense than the overall average. Fat, on the other hand, has a lower density than the average (which is roughly the same as water, overall), so for their size they have relatively little fat.

Innate Characteristics

This makes sense in light of the innate characteristics common to Dwarves. They are usually described as having strength & resilience higher than that of the full-sized human of equivalent horizontal dimension.

What’s more, the shortness of their arms requires greater inherent strength to achieve the same effect. This is shown by the circumference of a circle, using the shoulder joint (because that’s where arm length is measured from) as the center of the circle – a 90-degree movement by a longer limb in the same amount of time has the end of that limb moving faster than a shorter limb. That is equivalent to the amount of force that the limb can impart when it hits someone or something.

It’s easy to demonstrate this for yourself. Moving your arms in and out from the shoulder, feel how hard the inner side of your elbow can hit the side of your chest for a given expenditure of effort. Then, for the same expenditure of effort, feel how hard your wrist can hit your chest. Notice how much faster your hand moves than your elbow – and how much more force it generates when it hits?

Just to hit as hard as a human does, a shorter-limbed creature like a Dwarf has to be stronger. But Dwarves are supposed to be able to impart more force than the typical human, so they need even more strength on top of the increase we have already surmised.

Strength at a price

Strength generally comes at a price, a reduction in flexibility and suppleness. Anyone who’s ever watched the summer Olympics must have noticed how weightlifters walk. They can lift amounts in the super-heavyweight division, but they walk like tree-trunks. In particular, they have relative inflexibility at the elbows, knees, and back.

I’m going to assume that this also affects Dwarves, but I’m going to go further. Since we need Dwarves to be even stronger to compensate for their reduced limb-length, and that for mass reasons, they need more muscle and bone than a human of equivalent body-width, and have to pack all of that into a smaller frame, I’m going to assume that Dwarves have more muscle – and more muscle needs more muscle anchor points, in other words, more bone.

The skeletal structure – torso

If our Dwarves have more bone, and not just thicker bones, then they will have a different skeletal structure. So let’s give them one. I’ll start with the torso, and assume that instead of having ribs like humans, they have subcutaneous plates of natural bone, flat strips placed on their thinner dimension and curved around. These can even overlap slightly, give the Dwarf’s vital systems a natural boost. These flatter, broader, ribs extend all the way to the coccyx. But these would make the dwarf more vulnerable to crushing effects, for all that they enhance the ability to resist stabbing penetrations and lacerations; to protect against that problem, I need to internally brace the skeletal structure.

From the spine, then, four protrusions extend out to flat plate-like ends. Two are angled at 45 degrees to the spine in the horizontal plane (some Dwarves would have this bracing right-side forward, others left-side forward). Two angle at 45 degrees in the other direction horizontally, but also at an angle vertically, front to back. With a layer of shock-absorbing fat sandwiched by a two paddings of muscle between these flat plates and the ribs, we end up with a torsional rigidity that imparts great strength – and relative inflexibility (Racing car roll-cages are all built using similar structures).

The shoulder joints would also be larger. I envisage these joints as having round covers of bone, like a hollow ball, with openings in the ball for the limbs to project through. There would be similar structures in the pelvis that internally armor the entire lower torso. (I’ll get to why in just a moment). Humans have a cover of bone at the knees – the kneecaps – but the Dwarfish shoulder and groin joints would be larger, wrapping around the joint more, and connected to the bones containing the joints by cartilage.

This arrangement would make all four limbs as flexible, front to back, as humans, but less flexible out from the sides, and with less rotational capacity in the arms – 60 degrees instead of 270 degrees. Assuming a similar degree of side-to-side and rotational capacity at the hips would actually make a Dwarf more flexible in this limited capacity as a human.

The key to all this internal structure can be made evident by a simple experience – turn your head using your neck muscles as far as it can comfortably go – usually almost 90 degrees. Do this in the direction of your off-hand – so, if you’re right-handed, turn your head to the left. Then, holding that position, feel the tension in the muscles – you will soon realize that you can feel the force all the way down to your shoulders. Now try moving your arms forward and back just a little, still holding this pose, and you will find that the side that you are facing away from will be just a little tighter and more restricted in it’s movement because those muscles are already rigid. The neck anchors to the skull at one end and the shoulders at the other, and on down the back.

Dwarven torso muscles have two sets of anchor points – one set interior to the bone shapes described, and one outside that is more typically humanoid. So there isn’t much difference to look at, but they have twice as much muscle and bone as the equivalent human, and far more structural strength in the torso, protecting their vital organs.

The reduced directions of flexibility permit a muscle structure more optimized for strength in those directions the Dwarf is flexible, giving them the equivalent to a third set of muscles in terms of force generated. The “second set” of muscles compensates for the shorter limbs, and the “third set” makes them stronger than humans – in those directions that their limbs move.

An evolutionary side-note: If we observed this phenomenon in a species in modern times, we would probably assume that the cross-bracings evolved from vestigial limbs – meaning that Dwarves evolved from a variety of eight-legged creatures with external exoskeletal structures, perhaps something akin to an armored spider. Which doesn’t mean much in its own right, but there are many creatures on earth that bear some resemblance to the form of ancient pre-humans – the various species of ape, for example. So this raises the prospects that somewhere out there, armored spiders might still be found…

The skeletal structure – limbs

I intend to employ a similar set of principles in the limb joints. I envisage locking bone structure at elbows & knees, making it easier and more natural for the limbs to stay rigid and firm – but at the price of reduced flexibility in all but one direction. Ankle and wrist joints would have structures similar to the shoulders – which makes the ankles of a Dwarf slightly more flexible than those of a human, but the wrists slightly less flexible.

The Legs start wide at the hip and bow slightly. This permits the ankles to be close together when desired, or splayed but with feet still flat (thanks to those ankle joints).

The legs of a Dwarf thus form natural triangle shapes, with with the point up, or the point down. When in battle stance, this gives the choice of far greater stability – try rolling a typical d4 by pushing at the side or top – or the capacity to change direction quickly when running, with the ankles closer together.

The consequence of this anatomical difference would be a rocking hip motion when running. Dwarves would tend to be superb broken-field runners, capable of turning on a dime without slowing down – but with a smaller change of direction possible than a human. Faster to turn, but with a bigger turning circle, as it were.

The finger and toe joints would have bony spurs that slide along cartilage along the horizontal plane of fingers. This enables the fingers to be either loose and flexible, or locked in a grip far stronger than that of a human – but a Dwarf would not be able to change between these two states as readily as the more flexible human joints.

A lot of these differences exist to enable the Dwarf to utilize his greater torso strength through his limbs while affording his joints greater rigidity, strength, and protection.

The Circulatory System & internal organs

Let’s think about the other legendary traits of Dwarves. Superior endurance coupled with explosive delivery of force and only a slight reduction in ground speed, relative to a human. Biological systems evolve to optimize either sustained effort over time or sudden bursts of energy – not both. Dwarves appear to have both – or, at least, the ‘sudden burst of energy’ equivalent of a human coupled with a far greater endurance. Since a natural circulatory system can’t let you have it both ways, I started to wonder if one was enough…

Dwarves have two bi-chamber hearts (human hearts are bi-chambered) – one high energy, one low-energy high endurance. The high energy system is slightly better than human, but it has to be, simply to meet the heightened requirements of the dwarf’s greater musculature during battle.

I also propose that Dwarves have twin sets of lungs, one wrapped around the other. These appear superficially to be one pair of organs; the difference is only detectable through dissection and following the blood flow. The outer lungs extract oxygen that the inner lungs haven’t already grabbed. Human breath is about 18% unused oxygen! I’ll get to why, in just a minute.

The first heart provides blood supply to both the hearts, the arms, and to the brain, and is fed by the inner lung. It provides normal blood flow for short bursts of high energy activity. Again, bear with me, and it will all make sense in a minute. The second heart provides a secondary supply to both hearts, derives it’s oxygen from the outer lungs, and also supplies the torso and legs.

This enables a dwarf to run or work at simple tasks for hours, if not days, with only brief rests. Having a second, low-pressure circulatory system actually reduces activity levels in the first heart, which simply keeps brain, inner lungs, and itself ticking over. Dwarves, in ‘endurance mode’, actually enter a slightly meditative state (reducing their sleep requirements) and enables them to just keep ticking off the miles or the repetitive strokes of whatever tool they are using. In ‘Endurance Mode’ they have, at best, limited awareness.

A Dwarf may be winded after a battle, but will rarely if ever arrive at one short of breath – no matter how hard and long they have had to run to get there.

Dietary Requirements

I started making a list of all the dietary requirements that Dwarves would need more of. Calcium. Iron. Metabolizing agents, esp Magnesium, which facilitates muscle control and the management of the absorption of calcium. Iodine. Vitamins C and K. High levels of carbohydrates for endurance mode. Sugars for activity mode – from fruit, and honey, but especially from ale.

They would probably have two separate fat stores – one for ‘endurance mode’ and one for ‘activity mode’ – with slightly different chemical compositions. Endurance-mode fat would be slowly metabolized, and equally-slowly replaced. Activity-mode fat would have a composition that permitted rapid breakdown into energy. This makes it a biological necessity for a Dwarf to get roaring drunk after a good rousing fight!

Outside of the ale, their diet would require a lot of milk, green vegetables like spinach, bread, red meat, and fish. They would probably go in for sticky, over-sweet desserts. Tarter flavors like lemon and grapefruit would be rare luxuries. And they would probably need to consume more salt than a human of equivalent mass.

The human cultures which combine meat and dairy products include Indian and US Southern cuisine. Both tend to have strongly-spiced, fiery flavors. It fits my perception of Dwarven ‘manliness’ to have them enjoy cuisines that other people can’t tolerate with ease, and there’s something very Dwarven about grinding things up with a mortar-and-pestle! Dwarven cuisine is probably more Tex-Mex than Indian, but there would be some Indian-style recipes as well. And all washed down with lots of sweet ale.

Disease Impacts

I also spent a little time thinking about how these anatomical differences would manifest as health problems in Dwarves. There won’t be much that’s unfamiliar here, but these would all have greater impact within Dwarven society than in a contemporaneous human society.

Circulatory problems

Two hearts, twice as much risk of heart disease, especially in light of the Dwarven diet.

Metabolic problems I: Reduced Endurance Mode

Early signs of a problem with the low-pressure heart would be reduced capacities in Endurance Mode. This leaves a Dwarf able to fight, but not able to get to the fight – a sure recipe for frustration and an explosively-touchy temper. The solution: move to where the fighting will come to the Dwarf. If a Dwarf hangs around human taverns all the time, especially in the seedier parts of town, it’s a good bet that he is suffering from this ailment. While this might be inconvenient for the Dwarf, it’s probably not going to be directly fatal in the short- or medium-term.

Metabolic problems II: Reduced Activity Mode

More serious, and probably more lethal, would be most of the traditional symptoms of heart trouble in humans, which signify a problem in the high-pressure circulatory system. While a heart attack would be less lethal because the secondary heart would keep the central organs and both hearts supplied with blood, it is likely to cause brain damage at the very least. Worse still, this would leave the Dwarf unable to fight, and that means he becomes an object of pity amongst his fellow Dwarves – something that no Dwarf could tolerate.


It’s necessary that the high-demand system has first crack at the available oxygen, and hence the innermost of the lungs is the one that provides air for ‘activity mode’. The ‘endurance mode’ system can get by on whatever the high-activity mode has left behind – which is why Dwarves go into a state of reduced consciousness while in Endurance Mode, it minimizes demands made by the high-energy system and leaves more supply for the endurance-mode system.

That leaves the entire body more susceptible to dust in the air, which causes damage the Dwarves refer to as Blacklung. Dust coats and clogs the innermost lung, restricting the supply of oxygen to both lungs. Of course, because they are natural miners, dust is all the more prevalent, so this would be a major killer of Dwarves. Blacklung is akin to asbestoses.

Of course, to humans historically, the name refers to the condition that afflicts coal miners, and which used to be a terrible killer in the early days of the industrial revolution, when the demand for coal skyrocketed. While Dwarves would mine and burn some coal, especially in their forges, they would not need to do so for heat – temperatures underground are far more stable than those above – and coal does not work all that well for producing light.

Nor would Dwarves use, by preference, anything else that burned to produce light, because they are in a relatively enclosed space and the dangers of rendering the air toxic would be quickly learned. They would need to adopt some other system, unless and until they found a way to circulate the air.

It might seem that this would also make Dwarves especially vulnerable to gas attacks, but this would be incorrect. A Dwarf’s response to being in a short-of-air situation would be to drop into endurance mode, so as to consume as little air as possible, while holding their breaths and functioning on ‘autopilot’ until clear. This means that they could hold their breaths for longer than a human, making them less vulnerable to this mode of attack – in the short term.

Muscle atrophy

Twice as many muscles means twice as much exercise is needed to stay healthy. Some of this would be derived through normal working activities, but the rest would need to be deliberately sought out. Whether they copied the idea from humans or came up with it on their own, organized sports would be common amongst Dwarves, especially those that involved a lot of running and endurance. Rugby and Soccer would be popular – but probably with three times the game-length. These would put a premium on endurance in active mode and awareness in endurance mode, and so the elite fighters amongst the population would also be the elite sportsmen. While Dwarves might wrestle or engage in other forms of faux-combat, these would not exercise them in endurance mode all that well. Marathons through the tunnels prior to such matches would redress the balance – and be uniquely Dwarven.


Joint inflammations would be a more severe and common problem to older Dwarves. The complexity of the joint structures would naturally make this a more routine problem. What’s more, the reduction in flexibility means that it is harder for Dwarves to work around the problem. It would therefore be far more crippling than the human version.

Skeletal Issues – The Spikes

I have a problem with my metabolism that sometimes results in sharp spurs of bone growing from various skeletal structures, especially in the pelvic region. These have, in the past, grown long enough and sharp enough to lacerate my kidneys, for example, or puncture an intestine. Such bony spurs are far more common than people realize, and are a consequence of the bone’s ability to knit; I haven’t broken many bones, thank goodness, but when I have done so, the bones have knitted more quickly than expected – and with considerable “lumps” of bone at the site of the break.

To some extent, this is a problem with metabolizing excess calcium. With most people, these spurs grow and then break down and get reabsorbed by the body before they can do any real damage. These were an early sign that my body’s metabolizing of magnesium was out of whack, because magnesium regulates the body’s handling of calcium, amongst other things.

With so much more skeleton, and the need for additional calcium in the diet for bone strength, Dwarves would be far more susceptible to this. Because these spurs tend to grow from the sharper points of the bones such as the Iliac crest and from other bony ridges, and at the heels and joints, the ends of the joints would be especially prone to this problem in Dwarves with dietary or metabolic problems. Bony spikes under the skin would be common and usually not a problem; in fact, they would usually be invisible to the naked eye, but could be felt.

Painful in humans, they would be both more common and more capable of severely restricting the activities of Dwarves.

Vision problems

Eye strain is all too common in humans. It frequently arises as a result of insufficiently varying the focal plane of the eye, and can result in permanent short or long-sightedness. Dwarves, by nature of the environment they usually live in, have even less capacity for varying the focal plane of their vision, and hence eyestrain and consequent vision problems would be all the more common.

The symptoms of aging

All of the problems listed, with the exception of the “Reduced Endurance Mode” metabolic problem, would be common in Dwarves as they age. This is especially true because a medieval society is going to be far less able to diagnose and treat nutritional problems than we are in the 21st century.

Since most Dwarves would tend to be the types who would not want to go out helpless and laid low by disease, at the first sign of symptoms of any of them, they are likely to look around for a good hopeless cause they can sink their teeth into, and hope to die trying.

Dwarves, at their peak of fitness and experience, are therefore the most prone to become heroic examples, and all their greatest and most-renowned warriors fall in battle – or beat the odds despite undertaking the most dangerous of tasks. Middle-aged Dwarves are the most dangerous to be around.

One Vulnerable Location

With so many of their joints armored naturally, Dwarves are very resilient and resistant to injury. They can grip more tightly, and are far less likely to dislocate joints because these are also held together more tightly. It’s very hard to seriously wound a Dwarf without killing him.

But there’s one location where Dwarves are just as vulnerable as anyone else, and it’s one that is all the more reachable because of their shortened stature: the throat and neck. This is something to bear in mind when considering Dwarven armor designs.

Simulation Techniques

Having considered the anatomical differences of the Dwarf (and gone into far more detail on the subject than I did with Elves), it’s time to think about how to simulate these differences so that we can get a feel for how they will alter the way Dwarves do things, what they would be good at and what they would not, and how their tools would develop to either compensate for their natural deficiencies or take advantage of their natural benefits

Stiffen Elbows and Knees

Simulating the natural “locking” of the arms and knees is easy – we simply hold those joints rigidly with our muscles and see what effect that has. Simulating the shorter limb-length is a bit trickier – the best solution I can come up with is placing a rolled-up newspaper under the armpit. The end of the newspaper is about the right length for the tip of the Dwarfish fingers.

Range Of Rotational Motion

Holding a pen flat against the palm of the hand with the thumb permits some simulation of the range of rotational motion; Humans can manage about 270 degrees of rotation, from palms flat and facing outward from the body to to palms facing behind us, to palms flat to our sides, to palms facing forwards. Dwarves have only about 90 degrees of rotation – from facing behind them to flat against their bodies. That means that if they are gripping something more substantial, like a weapon, they have to raise their arms to rotate it so that it doesn’t hit their bodies; humans can bend their elbows and shoulders to perform this action more easily (try it by holding one end of that rolled-up newspaper).

Ankle Flexibility

Now sit down somewhere and notice the side-to-side capabilities of your ankles. Most of us can go from feet flat on the floor to about 30 degrees feet inwards, and only a small rotation in the other direction (feet outwards). Dwarves can go about 40 degrees inwards and about 20 degrees outwards. That means that they can stand with their feet together and flat on the floor despite the width of their torsos – much wider than ours – or can be stable with feet flat on the floor with their legs spread wide.

The Effect On Gait

If you stand up and try to walk without bending your knees, you will find that your natural gait is to stagger from side to side with each step. Forwards locomotion is reduced to between 2/3 and 1/2 of normal. The longer and faster your stride, the more pronounced this effect is. This gait, rolling from side-to-side with each step, is how Dwarves would run.

Now try holding your knees rigid but at an angle (effectively shortening your leg length and simulating the slightly bowleggedness of the Dwarf), and keeping your feet close together when both are on the ground (knees facing slightly outwards) – you can’t do it without a Chaplinesque gait because your feet are also pointing outwards. Dwarves have the rotation in their ankles to enable them to keep their feet facing forwards. Although it looks and feels slightly silly – that Chaplinesque characteristic again – you will find that you are able to walk quite quickly and smoothly. Maybe not quite as fast as normal – but close to it.

Climbing Stairs

Climbing stairs with either of these gaits is quite difficult, because we rely on bending our knees to lift our legs appropriately. To climb a set of stairs practically, with the running stride, we need to turn from side to side with each step, so that the lifting of the foot is enough to carry us up to the next step. Narrow stairs would be even more difficult. With the bent knees, it’s not so bad – but I found myself coming to a full stop after each step, so progress took perhaps twice as long as it normally would. Dwarves don’t do human-scale steps very well.

The Dwarfish Grip

The best way to simulate a Dwarfish grip is to hold onto a pen or implement of some kind in a fist-grip and then put on some sort of heavy glove – a ski glove, or a gardening glove, something without a lot of stretch to it. The other way of simulating the grip is when the normal practice is not to use a fist-grip, for example holding a pen – the Dwarfish grip would hold such an object as tightly as thought it were being held in a fist. But there’s a downside – a human can go from a fist to an open hand with the fingers stretched out in a fraction of a second (about 7/10ths by my rough guesstimate). Now do it one finger at a time, not starting the next one until the previous one is outstretched. Each one still takes about 7/10ths of a second, but fully releasing the grip takes about three-and-a-half seconds – and that’s if you’re in a hurry. Now imagine that it takes twice that long to close and lock your grip: one, two, three, four, five, six, locked. What this means is that you don’t change tools casually – but once you do take a grip on something, nothing will make you release it until you are good and ready.

Arm Motions

Vertical arm motions are no problem for the Dwarf. This brings their full strength into play. What a human could do with some effort in this respect, a Dwarf can do easily. Things like holding a heavy telephone directory or hardcover book at arm’s length horizontally for a period of time (which is surprisingly difficult). To simulate how difficult something is for a Dwarf, halve the weight.

Horizontal arm motions are far more difficult for a Dwarf than a human. They have very limited range of motion at the elbow – only out to an angle of about 30 degrees, given the skeletal structure – and have limited strength to apply. To simulate both effects, double any weight. So instead of a can of soft drink, use a bag of sugar. Instead of one D&D supplement, put two in a plastic bag. And remember that you can’t bend your elbow more than about thirty degrees (one-third of a right angle). Now, here’s a funny thing: if you can bend your elbow so that your elbow is in a straight line below your wrist, you can hold up a much heavier weight than if you try lifting it straight out to your side. Try it with a heavy book. So the combination of double-weight and limited elbow mobility is a double-whammy.

Having roughed out the parameters of the anatomical differences, it’s time to apply that to everyday activities and the tools that have evolved to go with them….

Chopping Wood

Axes come naturally to this sort of musculature. The handles may be shorter, but that only gives increased control. The arms and greater strength mean that the Dwarf can use a greater mass axe-head and let it do most of the work; all he has to do is guide it. His elbow joint and rotational flexibility in his torso gives just enough freedom of motion that he can chop trees down with an axe; and, once a tree is more-or-less horizontal, he can really go to town on it, using his strength to full effect – bend backwards with the axe back over his shoulder, arm fully extended, then lean forward as it the axehead passes over his shoulder to put his entire bodyweight into the blow. The toughest log can be reduced to timbers in no time.

But, unless you want it for firewood, that’s not going to get you very far – and Dwarves, as already explained, don’t go in for fires very much. Saws are needed to trim the wood into a more useful shape.

Horizontal sawing is not something that a Dwarf is going to be good at – not with this skeletal structure. They don’t have enough front-and-back or side-to-side flexibility in their torsos. Vertical sawing, once the piece of wood is manipulable, is a different story, but even then they face practical difficulties – when people saw wood, they tend to hold the wood with one hand and move the saw back and forth using the elbow joint in combination with the shoulders. Dwarves can’t do that; they have to saw with the whole body, and that’s lot more easily done either as a two-dwarf te
Having roughed out the parameters of the anatomical differences, it’s time to apply that to everyday activities and the tools that have evolved to go with them.
am or by using a waterwheel and sawmill.

If they are going with the two-dwarf option, which will be the case in most campaigns, the wood is likely to be trimmed on the spot – why carry excess wood that you’re going to throw away? Trim it and just cart off the bits you were actually going to use.

Not that there would be a lot of wood used by Dwarves. Metal and stone are their stock in trade.

Woodworking & Furniture style

The reason is that woodworking tends to require a lot of precision work, a`lot of readjustment of grip, and wood is too soft a material for clumsy work. One misplaced blow to a chisel, in direction or strength, and the woodworking project can be completely ruined. Stone and metal are far more forgiving, a single incorrect blow is usually not fatal to the project, and they are more suited to being worked with the inherent strength of a Dwarf.

There are only two things that a Dwarf would generally use wood that they have worked themselves for – mineshaft supports, where the elastic strength of the wood can be useful, especially with some additional bracing by metal components; and relatively rustic and cheap furniture.

Getting prepared timber from humans or elves, on the other hand, permits the dwarf to assemble items, and assembly is something they are good at. Nails can be forged to the exact length required, for example. So Dwarven-built chests would be far superior to those by most other races, but only if the timber elements were sourced from another race.


Dwarves are relatively strongly armor-plated on the insides, so much so that they aren’t generally going to be worried by swords or knives, but crushing weapons are a different story, even with their internal bracing. Their choices when it comes to armor are going to reflect these concerns; most armor varieties are designed to protect soft flesh and internal organs from things that aren’t going to bother a Dwarf. In fact, three types of armor – perhaps four – would predominate.

The first is leather, either hardened or soft, for the extra speed and mobility that it confers. This would be favored by scouts.

The second is padded banded mail. which distributes the force of crushing blows, For the same reason, but offering a little more protection (but heavier weight) would be a mail shirt which drops not to the knees but to just below the groin; the reason for that is that most of the Dwarfish mobility comes from the hips and not from the knees. They can’t risk the mail-shirt being too confining to that mobility.

Finally, we have heavy plate, the ultimate protection – especially when the armor is built up to match the strength of the Dwarf, with just enough capacity for their weapon. Another, more lightly armored Dwarf would be appointed as a second, to both carry anything else the Dwarf might need, and to help them take the armor off and put it back on when necessary. The second needs to carry his own weapons and equipment as well, of course!

Vital to all these armors is a collar. It might be made of bone and leather, or lacquered cane, or metal, or any of half-a-dozen other combinations, but the principle goal is to protect the throat. These collars tend to be conical in shape with or shaped as a sideways “U” in cross-section (bulge out), the goal being to deflect blows either against the jaw (which can also be reinforced with armor) or better yet, downward to the chest. Some Dwarves have even shaped their collars to integrate a dozen or more sword-catchers attached to a helm, so that anyone who strikes for the (vulnerable) neck ends up with a broken weapon.


Given the tremendous strength of a Dwarf in straight-ahead up-and-down motion, any weapon that relies on this sort of motion is favored. Weapons that require thrusts are less suitable, because most of these require elbow and wrist flexibility; Dwarves are not very effective with rapiers, for example. Heavy, slashing, swords; maces and bludgeons; and, most especially, picks and axes. These all make maximum use of the natural advantages of the Dwarf.

Spears and pole-arms are less effective, because they generally demand elbow flexibility. However, if the Dwarf can set himself, can charge, or can employ some form of spear-thrower that substitutes for his reduced elbow flexibility, these can still have a place. Ordinary bows are not on the shopping list, but that’s all right because heavy crossbows are so much more Dwarven in style anyway. To load such a crossbow, the Dwarf literally stands on the bow while his neighbors keep it stable as he pulls the string upwards.

mineshaft cross-section


Mining involves three actions: loosening the rock, separating the ore, and transporting both ore and tailings to wherever they need to go. Loosening the rock involves driving metal poles deep into the rock with big sledgehammers to break it up, pick action to prize these chunks of rock out, and a lot of lifting of rock. The last is a problem when you don’t bend very well, but the Dwarves use a sidewards-facing bucket on a pole and a number of flat scraping implements to drag the rocks into the bucket, then swing it up onto a table for sorting.

This requires the floors to be extremely smooth, so a secondary job in Dwarven mining is the use of chisels and hammers to chip and shape the rock floors with all the finesse that they can produce. Because they don’t bend very well, these have long handles, 3 feet long or more. Wire brushes are also used to smooth the floors. Dwarven mines may not be as smooth as a marble floor – but they aren’t far removed. The walls and ceilings, while a little rougher in texture, are also remarkably square; unlike a human miner, who might extract a chunk of ore from the wall and leave a pit to mark it’s location, A dwarf will start a full tunnel. Who knows how far the ore vein might extend until they dig it?

As a result, Dwarven mines are full of tunnels that may be only a foot deep, or may go on for miles.

Dwarves are also big on right angles, at least when it comes to navigation. Their mine walls slope gradually inwards towards the top so that the shorings are supported by the walls; the Dwarves will carve out hollows, swing two half-timbers into place, then nail each to metal joining plates on the three exposed sides to create a single rigid structure. flat bands of iron also run the width of the tunnels, connecting to the joining plates; if the ceiling begins to give way, the timber supports will fracture; but these iron bands will hold them together long enough for the tunnel to be evacuated and/or reinforced. As a result, while mining tends to be a relatively dangerous occupation for humans, very few Dwarves are ever lost in accidents.

All told, there are 15 types of occupation involved in the Dwarven approach to mining:

  • Surveyors, who track the course of ore veins and plan how best to route the mineshafts to access them;
  • Iron Poles & Hammerers, who take steel poles of up to an inch or so in diameter and up to one Dwarf in height and drive them into the rock to break it up and loosen it;
  • Picksmen, who use picks to convert the loosened material into loose rock, some of which falls directly into an ore cart, some of which lands on the floor;;
  • Rock Gatherers, who use dustpan-like tools together with rakes and brooms to gather up the material that misses the ore cart;
  • Cart Push/Pullers, who move the carts around, first to the sorting and grading tables, and then to the ultimate repository of the forge or the tailings dump;
  • Sorters and Graders, who assess the quality and purity of the ore that has been retrieved after separating ore-bearing rocks and minerals from worthless rubbish;
  • Floor carvers, who use hammers and chisels on long shafts to break up any hard rock protruding from the floor, ensuring a smooth surface for the rock gatherers and cart push/pullers;
  • Brush Polishers, who employ wire brushes to smooth out any smaller imperfections in the floor, especially chisel marks;
  • Wall finishers, who smooth the worst of the roughness out of the walls and ceilings (providing more work for the rock gatherers) and who mount light sources and carve out the recesses where mine Braces will be fitted;
  • Brace Cutters, who cut trees into shaft braces, dress them, and then cut them to length as needed for each individual shaft;
  • Brace Stainers, who apply a brightly-colored surface stain to the braces that protects them against insect incursions and also contrasts strongly with the wood underneath so that any fractures in the timber are more obvious;
  • Brace Haulers, who carry the wooden braces from the cutting & staining area to the points where they are needed;
  • Brace Lifters, who hoist the paired half-braces into position within the mineshaft;
  • Brace Joiners, who apply the uniquely Dwarven metal brace elements that join the two half-braces into a single reinforced unit and declare the resulting mineshaft extension safe or unsafe (adding more braces if necessary); and finally,
  • Foremen. who oversee this entire gymkhana and transform it into a fast-moving, rock-eating, ballet of synchronized activity.


Limited knee-joint mobility means that Dwarfish chairs come in two varieties: Deep-seated easy chairs with footstools (which look remarkably like thrones to the uninitiated) and something more akin to kitchen stools. In both cases, to accommodate the Dwarven proportions, these are very wide. Given the state of Dwarven carpentry, the stools are either built to order by another race, or are very simple in construction. It is not uncommon for the seats to interlock, producing something that looks more like series of trestles supporting a flat plank on which many Dwarves sit. The thrones are more often carved out of heavy rock and adorned with tapestry-like coverings, richly decorated, which serve to insulate the Dwarf from the cold of the rock. Cushions for these ‘thrones’ are viewed as a decadent luxury that many aspire to.

Most Dwarves in any leadership position would aspire to a ‘throne’ style chair. (NB: it might be amusing if the Dwarfish words for leader, authority, and ruler all sounded the same to human ears so that they thought everyone who sat in such chairs was a King).

Getting into or out of a throne would be a relatively difficult process, as anyone who has sat back in a recliner chair will appreciate – especially since the Dwarfish knee doesn’t readily bend at the joint. In consequence, those who have such chairs tend to stay in them, once seated, until they absolutely have to get up.

It would therefore be the custom amongst Dwarfish royalty that they would be seated on traveling chairs of similar design which were carried by a number of other Dwarves in a litter. (Few others could spare the manpower, or they would all travel in this manner).

Dwarfish seats are too wide, too deep, and too short to be comfortable for any other race. If a human adult sits in such a chair, he can either sit back and have his ankles dangling in front of him (and too low to the ground), or he can sit forward with his knees sticking up (the height issue again) and his feet flat to the floor, with his back some distance from the back of the chair and therefore unsupported. Think of a sofa that is too deep and too low to the ground, and you’ll get the picture.

Tables, Cutlery, and Crockery

Since Dwarves are almost standing up on the common ‘stool’ chairs that most use, most tables are much higher than would normally be the case (relative to their height). Standing in front of an ordinary kitchen table shows that the height is roughly half-way up the thighs; when we sit, that puts it at waist level.

Dwarves also have their tables at waist level, but it’s at the standing waist, or close to it. For a human, that posture would require the height to be about one foot taller; since Dwarves are shorter by somewhere between six and twelve inches, their tables tend to be about six-to-nine inches taller than a human would find comfortable.

Dwarfish elbows also don’t bend very well, so each Dwarf would require quite a lot of table space, and would prefer to keep things at arms length. This encourages the use of large platters of food and longer table implements. Dwarves eat with what we would use as barbecue forks and salad spoons.

The size of the plates encourages and exaggerates the myth of the Dwarven appetite, as does the fact that they can go for longer periods without food and break these fasts with a feast. A dwarf would generally prefer one large meal less frequently than smaller meals more often. In reality, their net consumption of food is not going to be all that different from those of well-fed humans (more meat than peasants get, and smaller variety of vegetables, but that’s about it). Dwarves are meat-and-two-veg type eaters, with lots of spices. And lots of beer.


Dwarfish beds would also be at a relatively tall height (as I pointed out last time, chair seats and beds tend to be the same height). Softer beds are harder to get in and out of without knee and elbow flexibility, so they would also tend to be fairly firm, and quite possibly would not have anything we would regard as a mattress at all. What’s more, the Dwarven body is more strongly supported by their skeletal structure, and is less flexible, so they would not receive as much benefit from a soft bed as humans do. Flat slabs of rock covered with a blanket would probably suffice for the moderately well-off. For the less prosperous dwarf, though, there would be a cheaper alternative.

A couple of feet out from the wall, at about waist height, and running the length of the wall, Dwarves could inset a long beam in the same way as they do in their mineshafts. Add a second right next to the wall, and run a length of thick canvas over it, tied beneath through eyelets, probably with leather that was wet when it was tied. As the leather dries, it hardens and shrinks, pulling the canvas “beds” taut. Several Dwarves could easily be accommodated along the length of a wall on a single such ‘hammock’.

It’s easy to envisage a series of these simple canvas ‘bunk beds’ in a room, giving barracks-style accommodations.
dwarf climbing


Before we can contemplate the possibility of multiple tiers of such bunks, we need to think about a ladder system optimized for a Dwarf. To use human ladder, you need to bend arms and legs`at the elbows and knees, respectively, and Dwarves don’t do either very well. What’s more, while Dwarven legs have greater side-to-side range than a human, their arms have less. After thinking about it for a while, I came to realize that stiff ladders are not the ideal solution for a Dwarf; instead, their best answer would be semi-independent pairs of half-width rope ladders, tethered to each other every twenty or thirty feet or so.

They would climb by placing one foot on such a ladder and then swinging that leg out wider, which effectively lifts the rest of the body upwards. Getting a new grip, with the opposite arm and a new foothold with the other leg, they can pull back the leg just used to climb, and repeat the process to the other side. This is all illustrated by the diagram, which I draw to confirm my own subjective notion that it would work. In fact, as the calculations show, it works surprisingly effectively – if “a” is the total height from fist stretched high overhead to bottom of foot (which is about 4/3 height for a human, and probably about the same for a dwarf), this technique permits up to 40% of that amount to be gained with every climbing step. This is so fast that the Dwarf would be held up by the time it takes to relax his grip – unless he used less than his whole hand to do so. Perhaps two fingers would be enough (given the Dwarves’ innate Iron Grip), which would give a climbing rate of 40% of 4/3 of the Dwarf’s height every 3 seconds or so. For a height of 5′, that works out to 0.9 feet per second (all right, 0.8888… if you want to get fussy), or 53 1/3 feet per minute. A 60′ climb: 67.5 sec. A 500′ climb? 562.5 sec, or 9 minutes 22.5 seconds.

A human would probably have to rest. I wouldn’t bet on the Dwarf needing to do so, though. You could even enhance this slightly by staggering the rungs a little.

The same trick would work with flexible metal ladders, which couldn’t be cut, and which a Dwarf could undoubtedly carry just as easily.

Things don’t look so rosy when it comes to a Dwarf attempting to use a human ladder. Not only would the rungs be farther apart, but humans tend to use solid ladders, as already pointed out. To climb such a ladder, the dwarf would need to lever himself out from the ladder, his arms fully stretched out before him. He would then need to swing up, using his arms, until his feet were above the next rung, enabling him to drop onto that rung. Repeat, That means that at best, the Dwarf’s climbing rate on such ladders would be one half of the human speed, because a human can use one leg to climb each rung rather than needing to position both feet on each rung before they could tackle the next. And to get even that pace, the ladder would need to be at a slightly greater angle to the wall than humans find convenient.

Climbing Ropes

Climbing ropes work just as well as their own custom ladders for a Dwarf. Their natural capability of using their full leg strength while keeping their feet together would enable them to swarm up such contrivances. It might look more awkward than it would for a human, but in terms of pace, there would be nothing wrong with it.
steps comparison


The shorter the step height, the better a Dwarf is able to cope. But unlike Elves, Dwarves can’t use their toes as a substitute for the whole foot; so they will need smaller height with deeper steps and a flatter angle of rise. But steps would be rare in Dwarven cultures; their living spaces are enlarged from mines, and improved natural caverns, and that means that they would have flat spaces for the ore carts to take the detritus away. Instead of stairs, they would tend to employ slopes and ramps.


I’ve already touched on this a little. Dwarfish tools would tend to be designed for use at arm’s length. This is not as easy as it sounds – with one hand, and keeping both arms stiff, grip a pen or pencil like a chisel and make a hammering motion onto the end with your other hand. Be sure to angle the pen or pencil towards the direction to where the “hammer blows” are coming from. A lot of human dexterity in tool use comes from the elbows, something that might surprise people until they try this quick simulation.

Angled heads on the hammers and other tools, rather than at right angles to the handles, make a big difference. If you repeat the simulation offered above but don’t try angling the tool, assuming that the handle itself is angled above where it is gripped, you will find it a lot easier to accomplish.

Once you’ve accepted that principle, you start to realize that while their architecture might be rigidly straight lines, their tools (and especially the handles) would evolve to be anything but. I don’t know if you’ve ever seen an old-style surgical kit, from – say – the early 20th century, with all it’s strangely curved tools, many of which we no longer use very often. I tried, but couldn’t find an image to illustrate the point. What’s more, specialist tools would evolve to do specific jobs that humans would employ a more universal tool to achieve, especially in the field of sculpture and stone-carving.

A human craftsman unfamiliar with Dwarven physiology would struggle to work out how to use these tools, Even if one did, or was familiar enough with the way a Dwarf works to understand the principles and the reasons for these tools to be the way they are, many of them would rely on the greater strength of a Dwarf to be effective. Human tools exist to maximize the delivery of effect from the tool, within the limits of shape of the tool; rather than evolving a differently-shaped tool to give more control with a chisel, we simply use a smaller chisel. Dwarfish tools would be full of oddly-angled heads, strangely curved and twisted shafts, and bends in the handles, and would be more concerned with the precise control of the tools. They would even have strange two-handed tools which required a second dwarf to swing the hammer that applies force through the tool. The reason for all this is that Dwarves have so much strength at their disposal that even a fraction of it can be too much for delicate and sensitive work.

Human tools, in comparison, would be like flint knives and stone axes; even in the hands of the most skilled work, the best that could be achieved using them, without a lifetime spent mastering their nuances, would be crude and brutish. It would perpetually astonish Dwarves that humans can achieve what they do in sculpture despite the primitiveness of their tools.


Dwarves can’t bend very well. I make this point over and over because it affects almost everything that they do and have. Standing up, and keeping your arms stiff and straight, you will find that you struggle to reach shelves that are lower than mid-thigh in height. Dwarves know this problem well, and place their shelves accordingly. To a human, these are also reasonably convenient heights, so this effect of the Dwarven physiology often goes unremarked.

What does get noticed is that Dwarves have no problem reaching for things – and as a result, they build all their shelves very deeply, far more so than is usual for a human. Shelves three feet deep are not uncommon.
dwarven lifter

Storage Chests

Dwarves use the space beneath their shelves for chests. It might seem that they would have the same problems reaching down into these as they would reaching shelves that low, but this is not the case, thanks to a clever bit of Dwarven engineering: the Dwarven “Lifter”, illustrated above. With the Lifter depressed at the front – and note that the slope of the bottom of the typical Dwarven Chest makes this occur naturally – it can slide naturally into the space below the lip of the chest base. The Dwarf then puts his weight on the other end of the Lifter while holding onto the chest for stability. The bowed section of the lifter moves forward and up, constrained by the channel and slider that fits into it, and then lifts the chest. Clasps and chocks are then used to “lock” the lifter in place with the chest elevated as much as two feet into the air. (Note that typically, this operation is performed from both sides at once by different Dwarves). Within the chest, nesting sections can then be lifted out by handles that extend to the top of the chest.

Pole Implements

Dwarfish pole implements are much shorter than those employed by humans, because Dwarves have little rotational capacity in comparison, and because a lot of the utility of such implements stems from elbow movements. However, they are not without their uses, even in Dwarven society; Dwarves may have limited rotational capability, but they have great strength, and the width of their shoulders effectively adds to the momentum that can be imparted by the heads. A Dwarf using a pole-arm of any sort is incapable of doing anything but putting his full weight and force behind the blow, and that – combined with the sharpness of the expertly-crafted heads – makes Dwarven Pole-arms at least as effective as their human equivalents.

There are two ways such weapons and implements are employed, depending on their design.

Vertical Plane Motion

This treats the pole-arm as an axe. Typically, this is employed by hook-billed weapons; the Dwarf brings the heavy, reinforced, head down upon the target, then leans back sharply, using the hook to penetrate the foes’ back, pull legs out from under opponents, rip shields and weapons from their enemy’s hands, and so on. This is necessarily a small-unit maneuver, because it typically leaves the Dwarf conducting it flat on his back as well – but it leaves the enemy highly exposed and vulnerable to an ally’s attack.

Horizontal Plane Motion

Holding the hilt of the weapon tightly in the off-hand and across the body horizontally and parallel to the shoulders, the Dwarf turns to face to one side of his enemy (the side the head of the weapon points toward). His other hand is half-way down the shaft, and holding it only lightly. He then twists his entire body as far as he can, coiling it like a spring; all told, this is barely enough to get the weapon facing 90 degrees from the direction of his feet. When he can go no farther, he swings back the other way (i.e. moves the head in a horizontal circle in the direction of the enemy) as hard as he can. Half-way through the stroke, he takes a step with the weapon-side foot, planting his feet for maximum stability, and at the same time thrusts forward with the off-hand as hard as he can. This combines a sideways and a thrusting motion, which works very well for sharpened and serrated-headed pole-arms. The goal is to thrust the weapon into the space between torso and limb, then use it as a saw. This is often a very lightly-armored point, and so this tactic wins the Dwarf a lot of battles. It is especially effective against opponents who are larger than human-sized, where it naturally finds the inner legs; a lot of species have critical blood flows that run through this area. The Dwarf also has enough wrist flexibility that, if he deems it desirable, he can twist the head 90 degrees at the last moment and, by raising his hands over his head, he delivers the sawing attack upwards into the groin area of such creatures.

Dress & Clothing

Buttons are inconvenient to a Dwarf, because he can’t release his grip quickly, and has a great deal of trouble bending his elbows to get the hands into position to do up such fastenings. Instead, the favor clothing which can be lifted overhead and dropped or draped into position.

A sure sign of a Dwarf with great wealth or power is therefore wearing clothing with human-style fastenings, because a lone Dwarf is incapable of doing up such devices on his own; he needs (and can afford) an assistant to assist him in dressing. Similarly, while Plate Mail may be the most effective form of armor, it requires a second pair of hands to adjust and do up the many fastenings; only the most elite of warriors are worth the use of another potential combatant in this way.

Dwarven Boots are frequently double-layered affairs, with strips of metal sewn into the lining between the layers, and padded with heavy cloth. These double as last-ditch weapons, as well as protecting the dwarf from accidental strikes with weapons, mining implements, or falling rocks. A kick from a Dwarf so outfitted takes a lot of forgetting!

Bows and Crossbows

Bows are another form of weapon that seem unsuited to Dwarves, and yet they have managed to adapt them to their needs and abilities. The secret is in having an extremely heavy draw, and not trying to draw the weapon very far back. It’s not unusual for a Dwarven light bow to have a pull of two hundred pounds or more. The force required to draw the bow compensates for the shortage of the draw.

If composite bows have been discovered, these are ideal for Dwarves, and will quickly become ubiquitous. Until then, light bows and crossbows will be roughly equally represented (The arms of a Dwarf are strong enough to draw and cock a crossbow designed for a human to use with his foot).

Dwarves In Conclusion

Dwarves are a very different proposition to Elves. Dwarves maximize the potential of some capabilities at the expense of reductions in others; they use their physiology to compensate for the shortcomings associated with other advantages. Their preferred environment offers maximum utility to their advantages while minimizing most of their shortcomings; who needs the ability to swing weapons from side-to-side in passages that are too narrow for that, anyway?

Outside that environment, they are a complex blend of advantage and shortcoming. Overall, they are less suited to a life on the surface than Humans, or Elves, but they are better suited to battle – which is one of the few reasons they will actually enter an above-ground environment with any enthusiasm.

The fact that they know their strengths and weaknesses, and have developed enhancements to take advantage of the former and reduce the impact of the latter, only makes them more dangerous. Think of them as small-sized but unusually broad Terminators and you won’t be far wrong. No matter what happens, they – absolutely – will – not – stop…

So, there it is at last. I hope it was worth the wait!

On an entirely different and separate note, I often get asked to consider promoting various kickstarter projects and other products. Sometimes I can’t do these for time reasons – the notice may be too short for example – and sometimes I can’t trial things because they require hardware or software that I can’t access.

Here are a number of such recent requests, for whatever they are worth:

Sheet Yourself 1.2 sounds really cool. It reportedly lets you design your own character sheets for your campaign, save them as a template, and do all sorts of other cool things. Unfortunately, it’s an App and I don’t have anything that runs apps. So I can’t review it properly, all I can do is point readers at it and let you decide for yourselves if you are interested:

Realm works is a world building tool that is supposed to work with any RPG setting. I really want to try this out, but until I can get my main PC up and running, I don’t have the hardware. As soon as I can do so, a full review will be forthcoming. In the meantime, you can learn a little about it here:

Rollable d4s from Leo Atreides is a kickstarter campaign that has already made it’s minimum goal. These look really good for younger kids and those with reduced vision, having large and easily-read numbers. The design makes it obvious that they really will roll, and the price is quite reasonable, so take a look:

Have a great week everyone!

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Ergonomics and the Non-human


Although ergonomics is relatively young as a science, humans have been optimizing their environment and their equipment for as long as we’ve been making tools. This has influenced everything from the design of chairs to beds to doors to weapons and tools. And that means that all these things should be just a little different when considering different body proportions and musculature.

This is one of those little things that – if applied consistently – can greatly add to the verisimilitude of a campaign, regardless of whether it is fantasy or sci-fi. If the GM’s investment in time is small enough, the returns on that time investment can be substantial. This article is intended to show you how to minimize that investment while giving the maximum bang for your metaphoric buck. Most of the advice within will deal with the simpler problem of humanoids, to establish the general principles. At the end, I’ll touch on non-humanoids and how their unique anatomies might be reflected in their ergonomics.

The Two fundamental factors

There are two factors that are at the heart of applied ergonomics, so far as a simplified understanding of the topic is concerned. They are proportions and degrees of motion.


Proportions are all-important to humanoids. If a race is humanoid, but short or taller than typical humans, that doesn’t mean that their proportions scale to human equivalents; in fact, they shouldn’t do so. The differences can be subtle but profound.

What are normal proportions? How do you find out? The answer lies in the subject of “How to draw comics” – there are multiple books and even a few websites and infographics out there. After a fairly quick Google search, I’ve selected four pages that will tell you what you need to know (I’ve chosen four so that if one goes dark, you should still be able to find the info):

I’ve put these in rough order of usefulness, but each one offers information that the others don’t cover as succinctly, so check them all out.

There’s some interesting supplementary information at the Wikipedia page on the subject but, for a change, Wikipedia doesn’t seem to include the basic information.

Degrees Of Motion

The technical term for this subject is Kinesiology, but it’s a very complicated and technical subject – even trying to read and understand the relevant Wikipedia pages (Kinesiology and Anatomical terms of motion) – which don’t even specify the information we want, just define what it is – is far more work than it is worth for these purposes.

So, instead of technical references, we need something quicker and more practical. Like ourselves, and what our own bodies can do – and, presumably, how our standard tools, utensils and furniture have been optimized to accommodate those capabilities.

The Process

So, I went looking for data and came back with a 3-step procedure. For each item to be “xeno-fitted”:

  • Analyze the relevant human proportions and how they relate to the design & function of the object;
  • Analyze the motions and kinesthetics of the design and function of the object;
  • Apply the variant factors that apply to the xeno-anatomy of the non-human life form to that understanding to identify the ways in which the object will be different for that particular race or species.

Of course, once we’ve done one, it becomes easier to do the next, because there is going to be a certain degree of overlap from one object to the next. After doing a few, it is possible to generalize into some basic principles that describe the majority of tools, furniture, etc, used by that race, relative to their human equivalents.

Elf Dimensions

An Example: Elves

Elves are typically described as either tall, thin, and fair or shorter than humans, with more child-like proportions. Simply to contrast with my chosen second example, I’ve decided (as I usually do) to go with the first choice for this example.

Most GMs, if they think about it all, will assume that you simple scale a human up while keeping the width about the same (Elf 1 in the illustration). Elf 1 is a human at 105% height and 75% width. But that’s not the only way to do it. Elf 2 has a figure, still 75% wide, but with forearms, lower legs, hands, and feet all 10% longer than normal human. The result is only fractionally taller than a human – perhaps an inch or so of average height. Elf 3 is also 75% wide, but has the torso and legs 112% of normal and a little additional slope on the shoulders, and results in a figure that’s a full half-head taller than a human. On this figure, everything but the head is 75% wide. The result is that the figure looks like a small giant next to the other variations. It looks more like a human with giantism than what we want an elf to look like.

So let’s go with Elf 2.


Let’s think about chairs. The optimum height for a chair is the height from the floor to the back of the knee, so that the feet are flat to the floor. Assuming our human is about 5’6″ feet in height, and 7.5 heads in proportion, that gives us a scale of 1 head = 8.8″, big hair notwithstanding. Our elf’s knees are about 1/3 of a head higher than those of a human, or almost 3 inches. If an elf sits in a human chair, the back of his knees will be three inches off the chair base – which is about as much as most people can actually lift their knees while in an upright sitting position. Try it, and you’ll find it acutely uncomfortable. Elves would naturally splay their legs out in front of them while sitting in such a chair, a posture that humans regard as extremely casual. The legs would also tend to open naturally, which generally means – in terms of human kinesthetics – that they find the person they are looking at to be attractive, and which tends to make the person so sitting look more attractive and open to those perceiving them. It’s also an indicator (in human terms) of a certain moral looseness, shall we say.

At the very least, Elves would appear casual and friendly in a human setting.

Elven chairs, on the other hand, would be at roughly the height of slightly-short kitchen stools, with tall backs. A human sitting in one would find the back of his foot off the ground by about three inches, his legs dangling before him. They would have to consciously lift themselves into place to sit on one. Just while sitting next to a chair, just hold your hand flat about three inches above it to get some idea of the difference.


The ideal height for a table is roughly one head taller than a chair base, perhaps a little more or a little less – call it “Give or take an inch”. That’s all about the length of the torso while sitting, less the length of the upper arms, so that the hands are at 90 degrees to the body. This is not the perfect height for exerting force, but it is the perfect height for detailed work like writing, eating, and so on.

Let’s now apply our determinations of Elf proportions. Elf 2 has a normal human torso, and normal human forearms, so the height above the base of a chair will be exactly the same as it is for human furniture – one head. But Elven chairs should have legs three inches taller than the human equivalent, and that means that their ideal table and desk height will also be three inches taller.

Go ahead – pick the nearest table and hold your palm flat, about three inches above it. Lift your elbows so that they are also flat relative to the palms of your hands. That will give you a notion of what it would be like for a human to use an elven table – doable, but not very comfortable. Now hold your hand flat about three inches below the surface of the table. That’s what a human table would be like for an elf. Again, it’s manageable – but far from comfortable.

Now do it sitting down and lifting your feet about three inches off the floor. I don’t know about you, but that puts my hands below the height of my knees by some margin. This just gets better and better, an elf might (sarcastically) think. Again, the elf has no choice but to slouch and splay his legs out before him when using human furniture. On a typical modern dining table, that probably means that he’s playing footsies with his neighbor on the far side of the table, and fairly aggressively doing so. Add the renowned good looks of the Elf and he’s probably sending invitations that are likely to be well-received without even realizing it. Humans who expect to receive elven guests would do well to have a table that’s an extra foot or two wide!


The ideal bed is one that is at the same height as a chair. By now, you know what to do next, but I’ll spell it out anyway – go to your bed and hold your hand about three inches above it! Think about what it would be like getting into a bed that tall. I’ve actually slept in one that almost matches (it was about 2 inches taller than normal) – it’s a little awkward, and you feel a lot higher off the ground than usual, not just the small amount you might expect!

Now hold your hand three inches below the top of the bed. Elves would practically have to fall into a human bed, or lower themselves very gingerly. More likely, they would kneel on the bed, then maneuver themselves into position before lowering themselves down.


Workbenches are all about exerting force while standing. The optimum height is roughly somewhere between the height of the hips, and the height of the shoulders less the height of the arms when they are held at a 45-degree angle downwards.

If you stand up with one arm to your side and use the other to note the height of your hips on that arm, you will find it almost exactly midway along your forearm. A forearm is also roughly two hands in length, you will note. The arms themselves – measured from the shoulders – are about three heads in length, about the same distance as neck-to-groin.

Ideal workbench height is about groin plus half-a-head, give or take an inch or two. Locating the groins on our illustration above for both human and Elf 2, and adding about half-a-head, we can see that there isn’t going to be very much difference in height between the two.


Workbench tools

However, a greater proportion of the arms length is used for forearm, by a considerable amount. If you hold your wrist up to your shoulder, bending at the elbow, you’ll find that the wrist is at roughly the same height as the armpit. Our workbench tools – chisels, screwdrivers, etc (hammers excepted) – are designed so that when we grip them, the working end of the tool is about as far from the wrist as the tip of our fingers would be, or a little more. (Hold a screwdriver in one hand and the other hand palm flat against it so that the wrists line up, and you’ll see what I mean). The forearms of our elf are about half-a-head longer than those of a human – call it about 4 inches. So, to see what it’s like for an elf to have such long forearms, try holding the tool – or a pen or pencil – four inches further back up the handle than you normally would. Now pretend to use the tool while holding it in that position, disregarding any grip issues. Maneuver it around a bit.

You’ll find that movements are exaggerated in range of motion quite substantially. It’s actually much harder to be delicate, but much easier to make broad sweeping motions. Now, still holding your tool in the “elven position”, with elbow bent, bring the tip of the tool to a position directly in front of you, as you might for delicate work. You’ll find that your elbow is further back than you expected, and that the tip of the tool tends to be closer to your eyes. You naturally find yourself working closer up.

This is both a good and a bad thing. It means that such delicate work is naturally easier to do (grip problems being ignored) but that any slip is more likely to result in a facial injury.

To optimize tool design for use by an elf, the gap between handle and point would be about four inches shorter than it is in human tools. This also aids greatly in delicacy of work, but makes it harder to exert physical force to any great degree. (At this point you can probably see why I chose the body proportions that I did – they naturally produce so many Elven characteristics).

These longer forearms would also give them greater natural leverage, especially if their longer fingers gave them a tighter grip. It is likely that their handles would be fatter than the human equivalents, which would also aid in precision craftsmanship.

The leverage effect will also be all the more important when I consider the next item on my list.


If you have a hammer handy, pick it up and then slide your grip from it’s natural point back about four inches (holding the head in your other hand so that you don’t drop it). In most cases, your hand will have slid clear off the handle by an inch or so. To get a feel for how a hammer will behave in an elf’s hands, we need a substitute. The best one that I can find is one of those half-length folding umbrellas. Gripping one near the end, the same way that you would a hammer, try imitating a hammer’s action – don’t use any force, we don’t want to break it. The weight, at a greater distance from the hand, makes the hammer clumsy and unwieldy. You can deliver much greater force, because the hammer head (once moving) will be at a greater distance from the elbow, and so (for a given angle of movement) will be moving faster and have more momentum. In fact, since the circumference of a circle is 2 x pi x radius, the increase in hammer force will be roughly 6.25 times the ratio of the radii – in other words, the ratio of lengths of the forearms. Since the forearms are defined as 110% normal length, that gives us a hammer force of almost 7 times what a human produces, for the same amount of effort – and, probably, 1/7th the control.

To compensate, we need the hammers to be smaller and lighter – one 7th the weight, to be exact. A standard claw hammer weighs 16 ounces, according to Wiki Answers. So we’re talking about a 2.3-ounce hammer, or about 65 grams – about the same as a bar of soap, a large egg, or a slightly small metal serving spoon (most of those are 100-120g in weight).

No hammer so light is going to stand up to the punishment of actual use. Some of the weight can be saved (and some precision restored) by making the handle shorter – say, to about 4 inches in length – and some can be saved by making the head about half it’s usual size (by volume). The rest simply has to be coped with by hitting more gently with it – “tapping with great force”. “Many taps make light work”?

Putting things together with nails is, nevertheless, never going to be a popular elven technique.

Hoes, Rakes, Brooms, and other long implements

Most poled implements stand somewhere between chest high and slightly taller than head high. Chest high is the ideal for control, because it places the gripping position at about the same height as the human center of gravity, while above head height keeps the head of the implement above the head of the user when the item is being carried – an important feature for safety. The sharper and more dangerous the head of the tool, the more likely it is to be elevated well above head-height – even to the point of attaching an intermediate handle position so that the implement can be controlled with one hand and swung with force with the other, as is the case with the standard scythe, favorite of figures of death.

Our elf stands about human height, so the maximum won’t be that much different. When you examine the figures closely, though, you will notice that the center of the chest is perhaps an inch or so higher, and therefore so will be the center of gravity. That means that the minimum length is going to be longer by that inch or so. The power when using such tools comes from the shoulders (try swinging a broom around and you’ll see what I mean) while the control comes from the arms, especially the forearms. The overall mass of the user also makes a difference, and here our elf will lose out to a human.

A human using an elven implement, especially one designed for two-handed use, would find that the balance was all wrong. The effect is the same as having too heavy a head on the implement. Elves would struggle to match human effectiveness in terms of raw power – but would have much greater control. Because of the longer forearms, any mid-length grip would be closer to the head of the implement – probably a couple of inches too far for the human to reach. That would necessitate shifting the upper grip position closer to the head, making the implement less effective and more unbalanced. Human tools tend not to have any grips, or (where they do) to have those grips be smaller in diameter than the surrounding material – you create your implement and then carve the grip out of the material. The grips are indented. Elves, with their longer fingers, actually need the grips to be rounder and wider than those of a human, and to save weight, the rest of the shafts would be smaller – first, because they don’t deliver as much force, and so don’t need the implement to be as robust, and second, because they don’t deliver as much effect, and so will have to wield the implement more times to achieve the same level of work, and so want it to be lighter than the human equivalent. The general principle once again is: more strokes, more precisely and delicately applied.

Curiously, when you think about it for a while, you will find that the best way of thinking about an elf using a human implement, you will find that for completely different reasons, they would have very similar complaints. The balance point would be all wrong – the mid-position hand would be too far away from the head. The result is once again analogous to having an over-sized head on the tool!


Is there a set of stairs anywhere near you? If you put one foot on an upward step, you will find that humans have steps that are most of the length of a human foot deep, and that your thigh is at a little less than a 45-degree angle – anything more than that we find too steep, anything less than about 30 degrees is strangely shallow. Angle and thigh length therefore dictate the normal dimensions of human staircase steps.

Now, let’s think about our elf. The thighs are about the same length, but to set foot on the next step, their longer calves mean that they have to raise their thighs to a higher angle. The difference is about half a head, or four inches. Get some books and sit them on the step (cover them with something if you don’t want to mark them) until the step is about four inches taller than it was. You’ll probably find that the top is now only about an inch below the lip of next step up! Put your foot flat on the heightened step and notice how uncomfortably steep it now seems. An elf going up a human staircase of normal dimensions would find that it was very steep and would also be far more likely to trip.

Elven steps would be only about an inch, perhaps two, in height – less than half those of the human standard. Because they would want to keep the steps practical in total length, that would require the depth to be smaller – again, about half. This is quite manageable, most stepladders have steps of that depth; so humans would take elven steps two at a time and with only the balls of their feet supported. That’s fine unless you are carrying a heavy weight – when trying to proceed on tippy-toes is most uncomfortable. The unbalancing effect of the weight doesn’t seem like it would be the equivalent of carrying twice as much weight – I suspect that it would be more like an extra 40% weight, but have no math to prove it. Elves would have lots of small steps that they could scamper up; if a human tried to match an elf’s pace up one of their staircases, they would probably trip.



Human clothing of the right length would have sleeves and trouser legs that were too short for an elf. They would also be very loose on the body – wide sleeves, etc – as though they were several sizes too big.

Elven clothing, if bought to length, would not fit on any but the skinniest human. Instead, to get clothes that fit, you would need to get clothes that were considerably larger.

Our elf’s horizontal dimensions are 75% of those of a human. What does that really mean? The obscure image to the right should help to explain it.

Viewed from above, the human body is more or less oval in shape, especially once the shoulders are allowed for. That’s the blue oval and the outer pair of yellow ovals for the shoulders. There’s some error, but it’s close enough. If our elves were 75% narrower across the shoulders but the same width front to back, you get the red oval. If they are also reduced 75% front-to-back, you get the green oval and the two inner yellow shoulders. I suspect that the reality would be somewhere in between – say, the average of the red and green ovals. The ratio of the areas should give us the ratio of clothing size.


  • blue oval = pi x A x B in area.
  • Red oval area = pi x 0.75 x A in area.
  • Green oval area = pi x 0.75 x a x 0.75 x b = 0.5625 x pi x a x b.
  • Average of Red and Green ovals = 0.5 x (pi x 0.75 x a x b) + (0.5625 x pi x a x b)
    = 0.5 x (pi x a x b x (0.5625+0.75))
    = 0.5 x (pi x a x b x 1.3125)
    = 0.65625 x pi x a x b.
  • ratio of blue oval to average of red & green ovals = 1/0.65625 = approx 1.5. Which should have been more-or-less obvious from the start.

So a human who normally bought a size 12 shirt would have to buy a size 18 Elven Shirt to get it to fit his chest. That means that the arm length would also be that of a size 18 shirt – roughly 1/2″ longer per size increase, or about 4″ too long. The same goes for the pants, except it’s closer to 3/4″ per size increase, or about 6″ too long.

Either you have the sleeves cut down, or you have them made with tight collars on the sleeves – not an imposition because the elven wrist is the same size as the human – and have very loose, billowy sleeves. The same goes for pants. A very definite style, and the sort of thing that high society types would go all ga-ga for.

And that same measurement discrepancy – 4 inches and 6 inches – is how short the sleeves and legs of human clothing would be if bought to fit the elvish chest. The same ratio applies both ways – Elves would need to buy 1.5 times larger than that indicated by their shoulder measurements to get human sleeves of the right length, meaning that the chest and waist sizes would be that much too large. Next time you’re near a clothing shop, duck in and take look at something eight sizes too large for you!

Wrapping up

I wanted to now go into another example – I was going to use Dwarves, making the assumption that they were shorter, heavier, broader, and had less flexibility in bending at the waist, and in particular focusing on how these changes would influence their architecture, their mining tools, and the mineshafts that they create, so as to demonstrate the impact of the second factor (degrees of motion) on their furniture, but I’m completely out of time.

If there’s enough demand, I’ll do Dwarves some other time – but even without that, these examples show how quick and easy it can be. None of them took more than 3 minutes – and, if I exclude the clothing, that drops to under one minute – to think about and decipher.

It took a lot longer to explain what I was doing and write it up. In total, all of the above amounts to rather less than ten minutes work (less description and illustration).

In return for that time investment, Elves have become far more concrete in their visualization. I can state general principles about elvish architecture, about elvish clothing, about elvish tools, about why they are such good craftsmen – and why even a human familiar with the principles would take time to master Elvish tools, and never be as good with them as their creators. I can describe Elves in a human setting – and justify both their apparent attitudes and the way the general public perceive them, purely in terms of their anatomical structure. I can also describe what humans would experience in an elvish workshop, or an Elvish council setting. The furniture and tools they use have become unique and characteristically theirs.

The anatomy fits the cultural profile from multiple sources, and the tools fit the anatomy, and the tools explain and justify that cultural profile. So take a few minutes – and these simple principles – and apply a little ergonomics to your races. Start with the PC races, and expand out from there as necessary.

Okay, I messed up – I misremembered the formula for the circumferance of a circle. Don’t bother looking for the error, it’s now been corrected – and it only impacted one section of the analysis, anyway.

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If I Should Die Before I Wake: A Zenith-3 Synopsis

Why this is appearing now:

As a follow-up to last week’s article on Dreams in RPGs, I have decided to crack open my archives and share the synopsis of an adventure from my Zenith-3 campaign that is all about Dreams.

This adventure was supposed to be played on April 20, 2002, and we got started on that day – but a colossal bust-up between two of my players destroyed any hope of playing it and almost leading to the end of the campaign. So much player knowledge was revealed by one of those two to the rest that the adventure itself was ruined. After being persuaded by the other players that they wanted to continue with the campaign, I decided that the only way to salvage the situation was to write it up in narrative form. The consensus of my players after reading it was that it would have been a lot of fun to play, but that it definitely would not have been playable under the circumstances at the time and without those two players.

You’ll note that I’m being deliberately vague about the confrontation and the circumstances. There is still quite a bit of ill-will surrounding the events and I don’t want to stir old soup up again. Suffice it to say that things happened the way they did, in part, because one of the players was on the verge of a nervous collapse, something not realized by anyone until months or more later.

Most of the graphics that I used to illustrate the original plot are not available for me to reuse in a public forum, so you will have to live without them. Sorry. This will also have the feeling of seeing a mid-season episode of a TV series, having missed all the earlier parts. Not much to be done about that either. Finally, because of it’s sheer length (effectively 3 short stories plus an article), I wasn’t able to spend as much time as I might have liked tidying things up, especially shifts from present-tense to past-tense. Sorry :(

title if i should die 2
(“not played” 20/4/02)

NB: The following scenario has been extensively fictionalized. If events had been played in-game, a brief synopsis would be enough to remind everyone of what transpired, but you can’t use a synopsis to remind people of events that weren’t experienced. That makes the following much larger than it would have been. Any character misinterpretations are entirely the referee’s fault. Every personality trait conveyed is either a trait identified on the relevant character sheet(s), is a logical extrapolation of what’s on the character sheet (allowing for the circumstances), or is a horrible stuff-up. I apologize in advance for any of those last items.

An Angry Breakfast

7:15AM, one week after the events at the Ullar Youth Camp. Zenith-3 were due to have a team meeting at Eight. Spider is back in D-Prime picking up a few things he forgot (and visiting his wife); th eteam get the impression that he’s going to be away a lot of the time. Is the team ready for a part-time mentor?? Jimmy is still convalescing, though most members suspect that he’s trying for St Barbara’s sympathy and some TLC. His para-metabolism has still not stabilized.
    One by one, the members gathered for breakfast. Blackwing was first, stumping grumpily into the kitchen and making a beeline for the coffee as usual. He was followed by St Barbara, who took one look at her Gargoyllian ally and muttered under her breath in Danish. Glory and Dragon’s Claw followed at about the same time from different parts of the house, bickering heatedly over whose turn it was to do the dishes. Breakfast settled down to a sullen silence over angry glares. The team were cleaning the table – still without speaking to one another – when Karma practically bounced into the room, bubbling over with enthusiasm for the start of a new day. Unlike the rest of the team, she is a genuine morning person. In response to her unthinking greetings, St Barbara uttered a weary “Morning,” DC maintained a stoic silence, ignoring her completely, Glory groaned, Oracle winced, and Blackwing merely Snarled. “No need to take my head off,” replied Karma, who had been learning the local vernacular with reasonable felicity.
    “Sorry,” replied St Barbara, I didn’t sleep well last night and I’m not in a very good mood. I almost wish some bad guy would raise his pointed head to give me something to pound on for a while.”
    Her reply was greeted with an unhappy buzz of sullen conversation, as it became clear that St Barbara was not the only member to have had their repose disturbed over the last few nights. At that point, Mist appeared in the kitchen with a soft boomph of expanding air. “Zenith-3, we have a problem,” she announced with a haggard and careworn expression. “Someone is trying to control our minds….”

The Stuff Of Nightmares

The team reconvened in the meeting room within their base. Mist explained that she had taken a break to try and resolve some personal issues. A few days ago, she began experiencing nightmares during meditation, despite her people’s natural resistance to mental interference. At first, these seemed to be an outgrowth of the problems that had led to her sudden sabbatical, but they had been growing both more extreme and more unlikely. “I may look human, but in many ways my species are very different,” she concluded. “We do not sleep as you do, but instead spend a period of time in meditation. We do not dream. We do not have nightmares. And, as in this case, we are aware of, and resistant to, external forces that seek to interfere with our thoughts.”
    Oracle then demanded details, admitting that he had also been having troubling dreams, and that (despite his near-total recall), he had been unable to remember specifics. In reply, Mist was forced to admit that she had also been unable to remember the exact content of the nightmares, something else that had troubled her. Oracle proceeded to give a quick explanation of how memory works, concluding by pointing out that since nothing was ever truly forgotten, it should be possible to raise the memories that were missing through hypnotism or some similar technique. Karma suggested that probing the team’s minds with her mental forensics abilities should be at least as effective as any hypnotism.
    Oracle replied that this was not enough. For his analytic capabilities to be able to extract the maximum information from the recalled memories, he would have to be able to compare minute specifics from vision to vision. Furthermore, since he did not hold a monopoly on expertise within the team, the others should also perceive the visions – someone else might see something he did not. “And besides,” added St Barbara, “If something is bothering my teammates I want to know about it – nothing can be fixed if we don’t know what the problems are.”
    With the decision made, it was time to consider who should go first, and in what order. St Barbara was inclined to be the first victim, but was persuaded by Oracle that Mist’s awareness of the visions being imposed from the outside might furnish valuable clues in subsequent visions. To avoid clouding his objectivity, he should be last. Outside of that, it probably didn’t make a lot of difference, he added. A quick game of paper-rock-scissors later, and the sequence of mind scans was established.

the nightmare of Mist

The Arcane Warrior’s vision revealed that she had been struggling to retain her identity and personal focus in this world of technology. Few of the team remembered that she came what was essentially a medieval culture, and certainly no allowances were made by the team for this fact. She been chosen to enter this world because of her adaptability, but nevertheless she came from a simpler existence and the impact of the technological revolution on the social values she revered had been overwhelming, and had reached the point where she had serious doubts about her ability to continue as a member of the team. She not only felt herself losing touch with her inner self, she felt that continuing along her present path would lead to a betrayal of everything her principles represented. The nightmare itself was a trifle more oblique.
    In it, Mist was on trial for her life, accused of being contaminated by the outside world. She was arguing her defense when the High Judge and Executioner, a big brute of a man, announced that he could prove the allegations, reached across and ripped off part of her skin to reveal the clockwork mechanism underneath. Mist’s Advocate and legal advisor jumped to her feet to protest, clover-green with fury, only for the Chairman to backhand the advocate violently, hurling her across the room. Mist was too busy bewailing her circumstances to do anything about it, barely noticing as the Judge began to grow bigger, heavier, and stronger. He laughed at her pitiful state, and taunted her. Gradually becoming aware of her surroundings, Mist realized that no-one else in the Court Chambers had moved an inch, standing as stationary as statues. The Judge, now almost 9 feet tall, seized the huge egg-shaped gem which was being used as a Bench, and gloated, “You want to earn your life?! Well, here it is, I control it, and you’ll never get to smash it now! The Power will be mine, Forever!”
    As with most nightmares, there were elements that did not make sense, but right up until the moment that Mist became aware of the Bench being a glowing, 1 meter tall green gem, there was at least some internal consistency. At that point, the nightmare became totally irrational….

the nightmare of Dragon's Claw

The Martial Artist of Zenith-3 has, for a long time now, questioned his value to the team. Simply put, against the threats they have faced, he has often been as effective as a snowball in a smelter. He has often felt out of his depth, leading him – at least early in the team’s existence – to perform unnecessary heroics in an attempt to prove himself – both to himself and to his team-mates. The nightmare of Dragon’s Claw not only reflected these long-standing anxieties, but also the very real concern that he has seen before him the opportunity to fulfill the purpose of his existence – but that the opportunity is in the hands of others without his sense of morals, purpose, and determination.
    The dream began with DC in Washington, trying to convince a panel of bureaucrats to keep the Ullar Academy open. This was the fifteenth subcommittee in charge of something or other that he had given his spiel to, and from everything he had heard, this was the one with the real power to say yes or no.
    After an impassioned plea, by which the subcommittee seemed completely unmoved, DC turned to those who had attended the meeting with him – students from the Academy, present to argue it’s cause. The first student to address the committee was a charming teenager with pale skin. She began to speak, hesitantly and nervously, stuttering and stammering, and getting greener from fear with every mispronounced word. She was the color of clover when the Chairman, a big bruiser of a man, grew impatient and stood up, towering over the girl, and backhanded her, violently hurling her across the room. DC immediately went to his weapons even though he knew attacking the Chairman meant the death of his dreams, but also knowing that the ideals that those dreams embodied permitted nothing less.
    Combat ensued, as the Chairman grew bigger, heavier, and stronger. Despite the increase in size of his target, the Chairman easily deflected or dodged all but one blow in three, which bounced off ineffectually. The chairman laughed at DC’s “pitiful efforts”, belittling his ability to run a girl guide troop, never mind a militaristic academy. Several other members of the subcommittee were hurt through collateral damage from deflected Shuriken or Sword blades, but none reacted. In fact, they were as immobile as statues.
    Suddenly DC noticed that the head of one had been staved in, revealing him to be a hollow dummy. The Chairman took advantage of DC’s moment of distraction to seize the huge egg-shaped gem which the committee was using for a desk, and announced, gloatingly, “You want the funding for your summer camp?! Well, here it is, I control it, and You’ll never get to smash it now! The Power will be mine, Forever!”
    Once again, the dream began so realistically, so plausibly, that DC had not have been able to discern the difference between vision and reality. By the time things began to grow outrageous, he was so consumed with emotion and his focus on the battle, that he completely failed to notice. Even though awake, his expression following the replay spoke volumes about the levels of fear and doubt that the dream raised within him.

the nightmare of St Barbara

The contents of the Blonde-haired team leader’s nightmare were reasonably predictable to anyone who knew her, given recent developments. Her battles with self-confidence, and her protectiveness toward bystanders are both traits well-known to anyone within the team, and she has not been backward in expressing her concerns over the possible consequences of Jimmy’s Infatuation with her and the behavior that has resulted.
    Her vision began with St Barbara flying over Boston from nowhere in particular, and waving to her fans, on her way to be elected the person in charge of the Zenith-3 Christmas Club or something else she didn’t really want to be in charge of. As she passed a downtown intersection she spotted a Costumed Brick towering over a teenaged girl in the street. Without warning, the costumed criminal blasted his green-skinned victim with some sort of energy beam, hurling her through the window of a somewhat seedy looking bar. He then laughed, arrogantly, before grabbing a passing Buick containing a family of four and throwing it toward the pseudo-Irish tavern.
    Reacting quickly, St Barbara grabbed it with a pair of force-field pincers and began to set it down gently. While she was doing so, a child dressed in tights and a cape that at least 8 sizes too large for him leaped out of an alley and exclaimed with a dramatic flourish, “Never Fear, My Saint! I, Jimmy Fingers, will save you from —” by which time, the Bad Guy had grabbed Jimmy around the waist and was in the middle of bringing his back down HARD against the villain’s stiffened knee.
    St Barbara was caught in a quandary – save the family in the car, save Jimmy, or try to do both. Quickly she ran through her repertoire of powers and came to the conclusion that only quick action would give her any chance. Dropping the car, she materialized a force-field wedge between Jimmy and the villain’s leg, so that the would-be hero slid unharmed to the ground, then extended the wedge so that it became one leg of a pedestal, which the car safely landed on.
    The next few minutes were predictable, as Jimmy kept trying to help, and trying to show off, and making matters worse while putting the gathering crowd (why must there always be a gathering crowd!? St Barbara found herself wondering), at risk. St Barbara was kept so busy protecting everyone else that she had little opportunity to take the fight to the Villain, who shrugged off the few attacks she was able to make. Bad Guy (identifiable from the “BG” monogram on his tights) ignored her, concentrating his aggression on Jimmy and the bystanders, some of whom started taking bets on who would win, whether or not her costume would get ripped off in the course of the battle, and which of their number would be the first to die.
    Eventually, Bad Guy’s first victim awakened, and crawled through the debris of the tavern. When she was only a few meters away, she limply tossed a large gem at his feet, shouting “All Right! Here! Just stop hurting people!”
    Because of her injuries, the throw was off-target, with the gem landing at St Barbara’s feet, distracting her for a split-second – just long enough for Bad Guy to grab Jimmy and tear him in two before grabbing the gem with a force field. Jimmy groaned once and murmured weakly, “Kiss me and make it better, my Saint…” before stiffening abruptly. With the gem firmly in his grasp, the villain then crowed, “Mine at last!!! All Mine!!! You’ll never get to smash it now, St Bathetic! The Power is mine, Forever!”
    As the replayed dream ended, St Barbara commented, “I’m detecting a similarity of elements here. “There were a couple of differences, though. It never went completely crazy like the others – there were unexplained elements, sure, but nothing completely loopy. I wonder if that’s a difference in me or a reflection of the absurd behavior of the Jimmy-figure?”
    “I think the Jimmy/Bad Guy combination was loopy enough that when things went really strange it just seemed like more of the same,” replied Karma. “In any case, it’s time for our next victim…”

the nightmare of Blackwing

Blackwing’s nightmare was a little different from those the team had already experienced in that, at first, it did not appear to be a nightmare at all.
    It found him back in police uniform. As a favor to the Boston PD, he was checking out a cop who they suspected of being more than a little corrupt. The Gargoyle member of the team had trailed his suspect to a rat-infested warehouse. A quick change of shape later, and Blackwing was perched on the rafters, where he observed a meeting between the suspect cop and a young girl in a green dress and woolen pullover. “Got your insurance payment? Hate to see anything happen to that old man of yours,” the bent cop drawled.
    The girl meekly handed over a briefcase, and began edging away. The cop opened the case and riffled quickly through the cash. “Wait a minute, where’s the rest of it!?” he bellowed. The girl turned and started to run, but the Cop stretched his arm toward her about 6 meters and threw her against the third-floor ceiling with a heavy, wet sound.
    Blackwing has a deep hatred of police corruption, and he had leaped from his perch before he fully realized what he was doing. He crash-landed on his target from 4 stories up, letting gravity furnish his opening assault with a little added emphasis. A brawl ensued, with the cop proving almost as strong as Blackwing, and possessing a super-soft pliable surface that gave way before the hero’s every blow like taffy. The villain’s police uniform was quickly shredded, revealing an SID costume underneath.
    It was obvious that Blackwing was not holding back – if the rogue cop got killed, that was just too bad. The warehouse was soon a ruin, as were several surrounding warehouses (he did take the time to catch the girl on her way back down in the collapsing building).
    As the battle raged, Blackwing’s fellow team members emerged onto the battle scene, where they stood around carping and criticizing his every move, and making no effort whatsoever to help subdue the villain. Ultimately, the battle ended up somewhere near where it began. The bent cop started toward the girl, seemingly intent on using her as a hostage/shield, when the villain spotted something the girl must have dropped either on her way up or on her way back down. It was a large gem, and he grabbed it in his over-sized meat-hooks right away. “I knew that bitch was holding out on me! but now it’s mine at last!!! All Mine!!! You’ll never get to smash it now, you pathetic freak!! The Power is mine, Forever!”
    “Interesting,” said Glory. “That wasn’t a nightmare at first – more an action-adventure serial based on Blackie’s hatred of Corruption, and his natural concerns about SID low-lives scurrying into concealment within the ranks of the other branches of law-enforcement. But as soon as the fight actually started, it started to change – the helplessness, the cartoon-like distortions of anatomy, the rest of us doing nothing but criticize, they’re all variations on classic nightmare elements. Also, this dream didn’t get as out-and-out weird as the others we’ve seen – the Girl wasn’t green, she was just WEARING green. Even at the very end, it was fairly straightforward. That would cross out the ‘purloined letter’ theory of why St Barbara’s nightmare didn’t get so weird. It looks more like something to do with the personalities of the dreamers to me.”

the nightmare of glory

Glory’s nightmare was one of the most terrifying to date, raising a number of issues that the super-heroine has clearly been avoiding, and revealing more to her teammates about her background than she has so far admitted. It actually opened as a very happy dream, with Glory being reunited with her family – “all is forgiven, everything is hunky dory”, yada-yada-yada. Oracle immediately recognized both – Glory’s father was the man in the Administration who had actually created the SID (as an elite military unit similar in concept to the Navy Seals), and her mother was a well-known charity socialite, both so upper-crust they positively flaked. It was also clear that in real life, Glory was more than a little estranged from them.
    The dream suddenly turned into a Gothic Tragedy. Dramatic Lighting, lots of shadows, mostly Black and White with splashes of lurid color. Glory’s mother and father suddenly collapsed. Glory tried to revive them using her powers, but they failed to show any improvement. The butler, suddenly looking gloomy and cadaverous, called an ambulance, but Glory realized she could get them to the hospital faster using the Champions Transporter. On arrival, there were dramatic scenes as Glory called on the full political and social clout of her family to get her parents immediate attention. Then the Doctor chased her out of the operating theater and began prepping for emergency exploratory surgery.
    After what seemed an eternity (but which was only a couple of seconds), a very young nurse in green hospital smock emerged and gave Glory the bad news that her parents have died – they suffered a complete collapse of multiple bodily systems, probably because their bodies were completely cancer-ridden. Funny thing, her father had been given a complete checkup at the hospital a month ago after a heart scare and there was no sign of cancer.
    Then the nurse suddenly collapsed, exactly as had Glory’s parents. A Doctor (the same big guy who has previously starred as a Judge, a Subcommittee Chairman, a Bent Cop, and in his unforgettable role as “Bad Guy”) leaped out from the operating theater, covered in blood, and began hacking at the nurse’s body with a rusty scalpel, screaming at Glory that it’s all her fault. Glory’s point of view abruptly shifted as she perceived herself to be a little Girl, no more than four or five years old, in summer dress and pigtails.
    From ward after ward, emergency alarms started going off. The other members of Team Zenith-3 (including the Bright Cutter!) were lined up on crash-carts, as are a number of SID troops and Native American warriors. Each has a toe-tag with the writing DOA clearly visible. Each is fully covered by a sheet, but Glory can see who they are, anyway. Interestingly, both St Barbara and Blackwing are somewhat larger than life.
    Glory was so consumed with grief that she barely noticed the disproportionate size, nor did she really notice that the Nurse’s blood was green. The Doctor was not even really trying to save the nurse, hacking off limbs and laughing maniacally. Dimly, Glory became aware that the crash-cart was a huge egg-shaped gem. The Doctor began throwing body parts off the cart at Glory, laughing insanely, then grabbed the gem (with the nurse’s torso still strapped to it – though Glory didn’t remember him taking the time to strap her down).
    Suddenly, it was Glory who was strapped to a crash-cart, with the Doctor gleefully flailing away with his rusty scalpel, which had grown to the size of a broadsword. Glory tried to break free, twisting and turning, but seemed completely paralyzed and helpless. Then the Doctor began crowing, “You never had a chance of smashing it in time!! Now the Power is mine, Forever!”
    When the dream ended, Glory was visibly disturbed (which is a first). She was almost sobbing, she was so overwhelmed by the nightmare. St Barbara immediately got up and put her arms around the team’s Field Commander. It was obvious that, however estranged they are, Glory still cares for her parents more deeply than she has been willing to admit to herself. There’s also a fear that she will somehow cause the deaths of those she loves; in waking life, the most likely way for that to happen would be through negligence – perhaps explaining why Glory has always seemed so driven and intense. Only one element was puzzling. DC was the first to actually ask the question: “Why would you think that your parent’s cancer would be your fault?”
    Getting a grip on herself, Glory replied, “I haven’t had these powers for very long… and I think that sometimes they leak a bit, or maybe it’s just the Life Symbiote’s influence… but I’ve seen the life energies in a crowd pick up a little after I’ve been around them a while… I first noticed it when we were hanging around Colonel O’Niell’s bunch, but thinking back I realized the same thing had been happening ever since I got the powers…
    “I just thought that maybe minor cuts would heal more quickly, and maybe there would be a slight rise in people’s fertility… I never consciously made the connection to an increase in the cancer rate… I just never thought….”
    St Barbara gently replied, “I think this is something we need to know more about. How big an area are you affecting? Is it more concentrated at close range? Should we be adding regular screenings for Cancer to our weekly routines? Things like that. When Warcry was with the team, he started running tests to determine just how our powers worked and what else we could do with them. He only had time to examine myself, Blackwing, and Oracle, and since he’s left we’ve sort of let that slide. Maybe it’s time to get that programme back underway…. and I’m making you top priority on the list.”
    Meanwhile, Karma had begun the process of connecting with the next – and last – member of the team. Without warning, the linkage was complete, and Glory’s reply was swept from her lips as she (and everyone else) was dragged into a vision of the world through Oracle’s eyes…

the nightmare of oracle

Oracle’s nightmare was hard to understand, mainly because he simply doesn’t see the world in the same way as everyone else. Nevertheless, once all the extraneous overlays were subtracted, it became obvious that he fears falling prey to the Dangerfield Syndrome – “I just don’t get no respect”.
    Oracle originally joined Zenith-3 firstly, as a refuge against Department Delphi, and secondly, because he was desperate for the camaraderie and respect that he thought he would earn. And for a while, it looked like it was going to be all his dreams come true. But then he got dumped from the Field Command position, and twice now he has failed to even come close to being elected Deputy Field Commander.
    As a result, he was particularly receptive to his nightmare, which began at some point shortly after the team had received an alert about a bus-load of school-kids sitting on top of a car bomb – and after they had told him to “stay at home and read his press clippings” because “he’d only be in the way”. Which is why, when the dream opened, Oracle was in a sleazy bar as far away from where anyone would expect to find him as possible, still simmering over this ill-treatment, eying the long row of bottles, and deciding whether or not to get hopelessly drunk for the first time in a long time… knowing that if he starts down that path, he won’t be able to turn back, not for a very long time. The question he was trying to answer at that exact moment was whether or not he cared any more. As his gaze glanced over each label, he involuntarily recalled the chemical composition, predominant flavor, and alcoholic content; the brewer’s location, biography, annual production, and turnover; he analyzed the recent performance of the company’s stocks and the likely change over the next 24 hours, and remembered the last time he drank something similar. He also recalled who he was with at the time, their biographies and current disposition, and every other occasion he was in their company.
    The barman was at the other end of the bar, talking to a very young waitress. One glance at them was enough to tell Oracle of the barman’s mob connections {instant biographic review of every other known or suspected member of the mob, authority hierarchy, most recent known activities, and prospective prison term} and that the waitress was trying to pay off someone else’s gambling debts {race results for the last 5 years, suspected knobblings, individuals probably responsible, socio-economic analysis of the waitress, projected familial relationships, probable biography, and a projection of the most probable line of conversation}.
    Of some interest was the manner of proffered payment, a large gemstone of a variety Oracle had never seen before {refractive index, internal energy source, probable spectrographic analysis, probable composition (diamond with radioactive dicarbolic hypochloride impurities), expected value on the current market, recent behavior of the gemstone market, biography of the deBeers family, etc}.
    Oracle obtained a bottle of schnapps (122 proof) and monitored the conversation between barman and waitress to compare with his projection. The pair bargained back and forth for a while before reaching agreement; the barman, for a commission, was going to sell the gem and use the balance of the proceeds to intercede on behalf of the girl’s father. The light through the stained glass window made the waitress look emerald green from head to toe as the bartender plucked the gem from her hand, before announcing loudly “Not Enough.”
    “What? But that’s all I have! You promised! You gave your Word!!” the waitress sniffled. Without blinking, the bartender backhanded her so hard that she flew backward through the stained glass window. Raising an eyebrow, Oracle noticed that it wasn’t just the light, she really was completely emerald green. Maybe it was skin paint, but somehow he didn’t think so. Intrigued now, Oracle activated his powers of precognition. To those seeing through his eyes for the first time, the world-view abruptly underwent a radical transformation.
    Oracle perceives the world not as simple objects and people but as relationships and probabilities and associations. A person is not just the simple shape depicted, it extends backwards through time, comprising everything that it has done in the past and everything that it might do in the future. Where those probabilities could be discerned with near-certainty, the images were sharp and clear, permitting a near-total understanding of the personality of the subject and how they are likely to react to various stimuli. Where they are less-certain, they fade into an incoherent fog of possibilities.
    The longer Oracle spends looking at someone, the more he learns about them, and the more clearly those probabilities resolve. The same is true of his perception of objects – a table is not just it’s current shape and position, it is a record of everything that has happened to it from the time of its manufacture to the present. Combining all of these potentials into a gestalt view, Oracle is able to perceive the inevitable consequences of the current state of existence. What’s even more useful, he can resolve the indeterminate possibilities into two or three locii, or probability paths – and where a nudge can shift events from one possible outcome to another.
    His abilities aren’t perfect, of course; quantum uncertainties have huge effects when they occur in something as complex as the human brain, and any particularly dynamic situation will change more rapidly than he can keep up with. Mobs are easy to deal with, as are small numbers; but groups, especially involving people with powers beyond the normal, are far harder to predict. Not only are their backgrounds likely to be more unusual, and less predictable, but their range of options in any given situation is greater.
    As he engaged his powers to get a feel for the current situation, he wished idly that his teammates would take these limitations into account instead of demanding the impossible every morning before breakfast and twice on Sundays. Returning his attention to the current situation, he quickly determined that the bartender had never intended to do anything to help the waitress’s father; he simply took what he could get as a profit from the situation. Having already decided upon a violent course of action, he would almost certainly continue along the same path.
    If the ‘waitress’ also had abilities of some sort to go with her unusual appearance, then anything could happen. If not, there would soon be an all-in brawl with several people hurt and at least a few killed – unless he stepped in. By becoming the focus of the bartender’s aggression instead of the Girl, the drunken mob would not be at the mercy of their more chivalrous instincts and would be in a position to clear out when things escalated. Of course, he would have to tread a fine line – if the bartender were clearly shown to be no match for him, given that he was the proprietor of the crowd’s favorite watering hole, and possibly associated with him though criminal enterprise, they would be compelled to join in. So long as it looked like the bartender could handle Oracle alone, the pair would be permitted to act without interference.
    What followed was as much a ballet as a battle, as Oracle deliberately missed just enough, and dodged just enough, to make it look like the bartender had a chance against him. Several times, things did not quite go according to plan, Oracle’s reflexes being impaired by the quarter-bottle of Vodka he had consumed while watching events develop. (At this point, those observing the replay could clearly see the illogic and inconsistencies that announced the sequence as a dream; Oracle alternately perceiving the bartender as a normal (if violent) human and as a paranormal opponent. To Oracle, these were simply accepted – he took the world around him as he perceived it and reacted according to his perceptions of the moment).
    Without warning, and taking Oracle completely by surprise, the Bartender clipped the hero, hard. The hero’s dream-self flew across the room, barely managing to avoid impaling himself of one of the pieces of furniture that had been smashed in the violence. This was troubling – Oracle’s powers had completely failed to warn him of the attack, and he suddenly experienced a twinge of doubt. He immediately stopped shadowboxing with his opponent and went all out, discovering that his abilities were completely ineffectual. Time after time, Oracle predicted with confidence that the barman would dodge this way, or strike out that way, only for the Barman to do something completely different.
    Eventually, the Bartender grabbed Oracle by the legs and use him as a living flail against the girl, and announced, “You want to get this back for Princess?! Well, I’ve got it now, It’s all mine, and you’ll never get to smash it now! The Power is mine, Forever!”

Detective Work

With the last nightmare retrieved and dissected, the team looked around at each other, and tried to come to terms with what they had learned. Until now, it had been possible to treat Dimension-Halo as a protracted holiday, an excursion without personal consequences, but in light of the deeply personal impact being felt by each team member, that fallacy was exploded. That would be cause enough for a moment of awkward reflection; but in addition, each had been given a glimpse into the naked souls of their teammates, and no-one was entirely comfortable with what had been revealed. It was a unique form of humiliation, having some deeply personal private laundry aired before everyone, and everyone was at least a little embarrassed by what they had perceived. Only Karma, whose perspective was not human, was relatively unaffected, and inadvertently stepped into the awkward pause that followed.
    “Gross common elements are the gem, the woman and the authority figure, who in each case implied that the objective was to deny the opportunity to destroy the gem, and that it was a source of personal power.”
    St Barbara forced herself to return her attention to what was going on around her, and again took charge. She pointed out that the more data Oracle had to work with, the more more effective his powers became. She then instructed the team to speak up in turn and report any impressions, observations, implications, indications, or suggestions they might have. She would start by pointing out that there had been no reports of Jimmy, Mrs Mayberry, or any of the UNTIL agents having such nightmares. In particular, Jimmy was under constant medical monitoring. On the other hand, Mist HAD experienced a nightmare even though she was physically not with the team – in another dimension, in fact – at the time. These exclusions were suggestive of purposeful targeting, but the reasons for that targeting were less clear.
    Blackwing followed up by noting that another common element – despite Mist’s awareness that the nightmares were unnatural and imposed from the outside, their beginnings were still drawn from the very real memories, perceptions, and concerns of the individual membership. So either some very potent psychic scanning was involved or these nightmares were somehow constructed from or enhanced by, real dreams and nightmares.
    Mist confirmed that her own impression of an external influence at work had only been reinforced by reliving her nightmare. What’s more, while the concerns expressed in her nightmare were genuinely deep personal concerns, the symbology used was not something that would have come naturally to her. Her nightmare was not something she would dream, assuming she normally did dream. It was more a case of how someone else would represent her fears, doubts, and concerns. To her, that suggested that the nightmares came in multiple parts – a genuine fundamental, a nightmare framework, and the mental interpretation of that framework by the individual, which “filled in the blank spaces”. In her case, the fundamentals produced the court-like setting and situation; the nightmare framework called on her to visibly manifest becoming something symbolic of what she feared, and so, even though the workings of such mechanisms are foreign to her, she was able (with prodding from the framework) to eventually dredge up something unlikely to meet its demands.
    Karma reported that she had not detected anything of the sort, but that the diversity of location of the affected members – some in dimension Halo, Mist in Avalon – suggested that the actual “framework” could be external, connected to the minds of the affected individuals only while generating the nightmares, like a mould or channel for dreams. The internal consistency of the dreams was too high for separate mechanisms – it was not like an infection, where everyone has their own customized version of it. However, she had not been able to detect any evidence of such an extra-dimensional mechanism at work, and she HAD looked. What she HAD noticed was that since the last time she had seen the team, their willpower – their drive and determination – had declined markedly.
    Glory reported that for for several days – ever since the nightmares started, in fact – she had been aware of a decline or diminishing of the life forces of the various team members, including herself, but she had not had enough experience with her powers yet to have been able to distinguish this from normal variation. It might mean nothing, a natural consequence of disturbed rest, or it might indicate that the team were being drained of something by the process. It was thin, but it was the first suggestion of any sort of motive for what was occurring. If the current trend continued however, eventually they would all die – even her.
    DC added that the nightmares could not have been better chosen to drive the team apart – they all focused on reinforcing doubts in each member’s mind about their value to the team, or on decisions to leave it. This might be because those were the things the members were worried about, or it might be more deliberate and selective. The nightmares were all intensely personal, things the members would have been uncomfortable discussing. That might also be just a coincidence, but all these coincidences in combination were starting to push the notion of random chance just a little too far. Perhaps they were chosen to make it less likely that there would be exactly this sort of coordinated investigation, and eventually, to cause the team to break up. That suggested that there was something the team could do about what was happening, if the team could only work out what that was.

The Power Of Oracle

Finally, all eyes turned expectantly to Oracle. “Do you have anything yet, Oracle, or do you need some more time to mull it all over?” asked St Barbara, more aware of the limits and parameters of her team-mate’s capabilities.
    “I’m still thinking it over, but to start with, here are a couple of correlations that have not yet been mentioned. The green female is always someone to be protected by the team; she never appears to be an active participant; and every time the ‘authority figure’ attacked a team member, the green gem glowed more brightly.
    “From these items, and those put forward by the rest of the team, a number of conclusions can be drawn with great reliability, and some with less reliability but total consistency with everything else known or deduced:
    “1. The team has been targeted by an unknown opponent whose methods and means are primarily emotional manipulation. 2. The reasons for the targeting are due to our potential ability to interfere with the plans of the attacker in question. The attacks can therefore be characterized as a preemptive strike. 3. The attacks are manufactured externally but are adaptive in nature, drawing on elements found within the targets mind. 4. The attacker made a very big mistake by targeting Mist; if not for that mistake, his preemptive strike would have had a high probability of success. 5. The nature of the mistake indicates that the attacker has only superficial or second-hand knowledge of the team’s membership. 6. The presence of the same helpless green female – who no-one in the team has mentioned knowing prior to these events – can’t be explained unless, like the authority figure, she is also a real being who is involved in some way. 7. The dream situations suggest that she is also a victim, who has somehow mastered at least some detailed knowledge of the attacker and his techniques, but the possibility that she is misleading us and is, actually, the attacker, is one that can’t be dismissed either.
    “Also, 8, I have observed that the speech pattern of the authority figure changed in mid-gloat at the end of each dream sequence. This is consistent with the theory that the female has inserted some additional ‘programming’ into the dream sequence. Again, this is suggestive of a victim seeking to both warn and enlist aid, but may be a deception.
    “Finally, a routine prediction, made earlier this morning, of what I will write on my whiteboard after this mission had revealed the instruction, ‘Seek Karma’s Dreams’. Which made absolutely no sense at the time, but now suggests a course of action.”
    “Umm, I don’t know how to break this to you Oracle, but have you forgotten that Karma doesn’t sleep and therefore doesn’t dream?” prompted St Barbara.
    “Mist can enter her meditative state at will. Karma can mind-link all of us to her, in effect sharing the same dream. Once there, we have only one option open to us; we know what will happen if we let events proceed as scripted. Our objective, therefore, must be to smash the gem at all costs.”
    “And what will that do?”
    “I’m not sure. It could simply destroy the mechanism used to attack us; it could put us under the control of whoever is attacking us; it could cause permanent mental damage to any or all of us; or it could have any number of other results. Without knowing a lot more about the technology used to induce these nightmares, it’s impossible to say.”

the nightmare of karma

Although not entirely convinced that this was wise, no matter what Oracle’s whiteboard said, a lack of alternatives compelled St Barbara to endorse the plan. As Karma was establishing the mental links between the team members, Blackwing commented to Oracle, “You know, something just occurred to me. If a possible outcome is us falling under the control of whoever’s behind this, then he or she could make you write what you did on the whiteboard, couldn’t they? So how do you know we’re doing the right thing?”
    “I don’t. I decided that this is what we should do for the same reason the boss did – the alternative is to do nothing and wait for a miracle. But this group is all about DOING something about problems – and that means there was only one choice, right or wrong.”
    “Here’s a cheery little fact to reassure you that this is the right decision, then. On a hunch, I called Captain Thompson. Aggressive behavior is way up all over the city, and over half the population have dark rings under their eyes. He made some phone calls and confirmed that it was happening all over – he didn’t check everywhere, but everywhere he did check, they were seeing the same thing. Colonel O’Niell did some investigating through channels of his own at my request. This is a planet-wide phenomenon, at least. And we’re the only ones with the slightest lead on what to do about it – as usual. Nuclear Weapons under the control of multiple sleep-deprived individuals – what a cheery thought, not!”
    At first Mist’s nightmare seemed unchanged from last time. And then, one by one, the other members of the team replaced members of the audience which “gathered to bear witness to the proceedings”. As before, the judge assaulted the defense advocate, before turning on Mist. From the audience came a firm and unmistakable voice, instructing the judge in no uncertain terms to “Stop what you are doing – immediately – or else!”, as the Champions gathered around St Barbara. With a snarl, the Judge demanded that the crowd return to their seats, even as he was tossing immobile members of that crowd aside like ten-pins on his way to the team’s Chairman.
    What followed was a grand combat the likes of which Zenith-3 had not seen for quite a while. St Barbara attempted to surround the Judge with a shaped force field – a simple bubble – but he used magic to attack from within the bubble, while it prevented the team from getting to grips with him. Forced to lower the bubble – it was clearly counter-productive – the team began a furious assault. Ultimately, it was Dragon’s Claw who was able to maneuver himself – with Oracle’s assistance – into position to strike out at the green, glowing gem.
    When it became clear that this was their objective, the “Judge” began fighting with an intensity and ferocity even greater than that which was already keeping most of the team at bay. Only a more grimly determined attitude on the part of Blackwing permitted the duo to achieve the team’s overall objective. With one mighty thrust, DC drove his Soul Blade deep into the gem at the precise point indicated by Oracle. The huge jewel shattered most agreeably, and as shards flew off in all directions, the dream also shattered, scattering the team like 10-pins, and all went dark.

the nightmare of z3
(not played 2nd Session 20/4/02)
green realm

Part I: Green Realm

Mist was the first to awaken. The first thing she noticed was the green sky, and the metallic green sand, and the way the rocks seemed to be composed of suspended strings, and the presence of a second, smaller, sun. The second thing she noticed was that the rest of the team were still unconscious (even Karma, who had reverted to her original form – and including another Mist!!)
    What was going on here? She got up to examine her Doppelganger more closely, only to collapse as a wave of dizziness swept over her. Putting out her hands to break the fall, she discovered that she was not wearing her regular clothes – in fact the gloves looked an awful lot like the modified SID uniform that Glory wore…
    Although the reflection was imperfect, Mist only had to stare at the image for a few seconds to realize where Glory was. Somehow, they had swapped bodies!
    A bubbling groan came from the direction of Blackwing, whose resilience ensured that he would recover quickly. “Ohhhh… what hit us? Whatever it was went through my forcefield like a hot knife through butter…”
    “Is that you, St Barbara?”
    “Glory? What happened?”
    “I’m not feeling quite myself… take a look at your reflection, but before you do – brace yourself for a shock…”


One by one, the team members awoke, to find themselves in the wrong bodies (pay attention or this will get real confusing real fast): Mist’s mind occupied Glory, much to her distress. St Barbara was in Blackwing’s body, and furious. The Gargoylian Member was ensconced in the more nimble frame of Dragon’s Claw, who was himself in the body of Karma – a body that (without the constant attention of it’s usual mistress) had reverted to it’s natural form, a plasma cloud occupied by flashes of high-complexity patterns of force. Oracle’s body was occupied by Karma’s mind, while the precognitive hero now controlled the physical form of St Barbara. And lastly, Glory was now in Mist’s body.
    This development was unsettling for everyone, but some were more upset than others. Glory (in Mist) was one of the first to vent her feelings; Mist’s world is one where nothing is fixed, and things that Glory took for granted were simply ‘traditional’. It’s one thing knowing that you can set rocks on fire; it’s another being continually aware that a rock is only a rock until you want to change it into something else. Glory had always been rooted in practical and objective reality, and that foundation had been swept out from under her. To make matters worse, without her perpetual life sense, she felt half-blind; until it was gone, she had not realized how accustomed to it she had become.
    Nor was her exchangee all that thrilled by the transformation. Mist was accustomed to a universe which she could reshape as she deemed desirable or necessary. The fact that she preferred to know what to expect, and so made minimal changes to the nature around her, made no difference; with that ability now removed, she felt trapped, confined in a reality subject to someone else’s whim. For Mist, it had always been enough to know that she COULD do something; she had not needed to actually USE the ability. Now she could do nothing, and felt powerless and vulnerable.
    St Barbara was no less unhappy. While not ego driven, a part of her had always enjoyed being attractive, and her new body was monstrous in comparison. What was worse, the more she felt that way, the more the body changed shape to accommodate her thoughts; and the more it changed shape, the more monstrous she felt. She was demanding answers – immediately. The obvious place to look for those answers was Oracle – but Karma was completely overwhelmed by Oracle’s powers, and just stood there staring at the world around her, slack-jawed. After repeated attempts, the chairman lost her (his?) patience and grabbed Oracle, shaking him, hard – failing completely to make allowances for her new strength, inducing severe whiplash and causing substantial internal damage. Oracle immediately passed out from shock, as his brain was severely bruised. Fortunately, Mist was able to use Glory’s healing powers to repair the damage, though she looked strongly disturbed by the process.
    With everyone now paying attention, the team finally began to analyze their situation. Where were they? What had happened? How? Why? What impact would it have on their powers? What would be the effect on their personalities? At first, there was only a confused babble, but eventually St Barbara (Blackwing) asserted the authority of the Chairmanship and some firm answers – and practical advice – began to emerge. Karma (Oracle), with her experience as a former psionic, was able to make the greatest contribution.

I just don’t know what to do with myself

“It’s wrong to think of this as a body exchange,” s/he said. “St Barbara will not react as though she had been placed in Blackwing’s body; she will react as though her own body had been transformed into something that just happened to look the way her team=mate used to look. She will take time to get used to her new capabilities, and her first instincts will be to react as though she were still herself. After a while, expect to see powers used in ways they weren’t used before; St Barbara will have gotten used to being the team’s strongman but she will use those powers as though St Barbara had acquired the strength and resilience.
    “That said, the physique has on ongoing impact on the psyche. Sometime before the first series of reactions, a second series will begin. Elements of Glory’s personality have a basis in Biology, for example, and these will interact with Mist’s mind within the body. There will be some part of Mist’s personality which reacts to those and those elements will be strengthened or weakened, as a result. Parts of Mist’s personality that are not ordinarily dominant will come to the fore and parts that are usually up front will recede into the background.
    “Mist will still be Mist, but she might be in an unusual mood most of the time.”
    “Alight, ummm, Karma. Anyone else have something to contribute?”
    “I haven’t had Karma’s experience with Psionics, but I know enough Psychology and Sociology to to make a few forecasts,” ‘St Barbara’ announced.
    “Why is that no surprise,” announced ‘Blackwing’. “Go Ahead, Oracle, dazzle us.”


“For a start, I have a theory about why and how this has happened. Normally, it’s one dreamer to a dream. If we had each shattered our individual crystals – if we were able to – we would probably have arrived in our own bodies. Some of us, anyway – given how much trouble we had dealing with the ‘authority figure’, I don’t think much of our chances if we were taking him on one at a time. Anyway, because we were all in Mist’s head, whatever or whoever brought us here, wherever here is, couldn’t tell who went with which body.”
    “I also want to amplify a little on the consequences that Karma has talked about. What we call someone’s personality is a reaction to the amalgam of three elements: how they see themselves, how they perceive the world around them, and what they feel they can do about the other two. In our situation, two of those three have changed for all of us, and all three have changed for some. There WILL be consequences and there WILL be reactions. Changes of that magnitude can only result in an equally radical personality change in a relatively short space of time -and I think we’ve started to see those changes already. As Karma said, the traits that emerge will not be new, but they may well be hidden or suppressed in the ‘normal’ personality.
    “There will also be some residual impact from the physical body. The memory is partly chemical in nature, and that will stay with the body. Skills possessed by the ‘host’ will be ‘relearned’ more quickly than if we were starting from scratch. There will also be the impact of additional senses and altered frames of reference. I’ve never experienced LSD but from what all I’ve heard, it’s mild compared to what ‘Oracle’ over there is getting used to – trust me, I come from that body! Half the team will be tripping out on new experiences and senses and altered mental states for quite a while. Make allowances.”
    “If we had more time, the results could be quite revealing – more effective self-examination than thousands of hours on a psychiatrist’s couch – but we don’t have time for involuted voyages of self-discovery. Don’t try to understand why you feel the way you do, put it to one side and think about it later. I recommend that we keep an eye on each other’s behavior, and when that behavior changes, we make a point of keeping their attention on what’s going on around them. Otherwise, we might find someone’s woolgathering at a critical moment.
    “One other point. You can NEVER get the genie back into the bottle. When this is all over and we’re hopefully back where we belong, don’t expect to just snap back to the way we were. There WILL be lingering after-effects – even if those effects are nothing more than a heightened awareness of how others perceive us – and there WILL be consequences. We might never notice them, but they’ll be there.
    “An afterthought – as Karma pointed out, the people using our powers aren’t the usual suspects. Be aware of any new applications or techniques they come up with, and don’t be afraid to ask for help from the usual pilot, either. This is a chance to expand our repertoires, let’s not waste it.”
    “The possibilities are fascinating… I can see so many permutations, so many opportunities…. the data arranges so clearly, Its so beautiful….”
    “Good briefing, Oracle. Karma, get a grip on yourself and pay attention! Anyone else got something?”
    “One thing,” answered Glory (in Mist’s body). “We’re dancing around the issue of what to call people. In a combat situation, that can get us killed. We need to sort this out now, while we’ve got the chance. We’re used to visual identifications, so this is what I suggest. You,” she said while pointing at St Barbara (in Blackwing’s Body), “are not St. Barbara. You are now ‘Blackwing’, Chairman of Team Zenith-3. You used to fly and throw energy bolts and force-fields around, but you don’t do that any more. Whenever I use the name ‘Blackwing’, it’s You,” she said, pointing again, “who I’m talking about.
    “‘St Barbara’, over here,” she continued, “Used to be a guy who predicted the future, but these days SHE flies, fires energy bolts, and makes shaped force fields. And so on.”
    “Good point… ‘Mist’. As Field Commander, it’s your show.”
    “All right team, we don’t know what we’re up against, so don’t bunch too closely together and don’t get too strung out. I want subgroups of two or three. Everyone stay sharp, eyes peeled. Group one takes point, Group 2 watches our flanks, and Group 3 covers the rear. There’s some high ground over there and what looks like a cave; that’s our first objective. Get yourself organized and let’s move –”
    “Look! Over There! Where did SHE come from!?” exclaimed a sharp-eyed ‘Glory’.

Appearing as if from nowhere, clearly in mid-stride, was a familiar-looking girl with Green Skin….


  • ‘Mist” used to host a Cosmic Symbiote but is now a spell-caster. Field Commander of the team.
  • ‘Blackwing’ used to be an energy projector, now male and the team brick. Chairman of the team.
  • ‘Karma’ used to be a male martial artist, now a genderless semi-female ball of psychic energy.
  • ‘Oracle’ used to be a ball of psychic energy which manifested a female physical form, now a male precognitive.
  • ‘St Barbara’ used to be a male precognitive, now an energy projector with a specialty in shaped force fields.
  • ‘Glory’ used to be an elven mage, now host to the Cosmic Symbiote of Life.
  • ‘Dragon’s Claw’ used to be a very strong gargoyle, now a very nimble martial artist.

All caught up? Now that everyone knows who’s who, let’s get back to the action!

Emerald Girl

\I couldn’t show the original for copyright reasons, but I did find time to throw together a new one :) Click on the image for a larger version (1040×780, 566K).

Part II – The Emerald Girl

The emerald-skinned girl appeared no older than 19. She was clearly in some distress, but approached the team openly. Her movements were unusual; she seemed to walk in place for a while, then suddenly in mid-step appeared considerably closer. She was then able to walk a short distance before again “walking in place”. When she eventually reached the team, she made a gesture signifying her intention to parlay. When waved forward, she closed and announced softly,”Thank Annath that I got through to you before it was too late! I am the Sarinjan Jarrell, and my people are in desperate need of your help.”
    In an uncharacteristically blunt reply, ‘Blackwing’ (St Barbara) – who had changed form again with Jarrell’s arrival, sprouting ugly horns – replied acidly, “Are you responsible for what’s happened to us?”
    At first, Jarrell did not understand what was wrong with the team. When the current predicament is explained, she looks horrified, and apologize abjectly for her ghastly mistake. She will surmise that it must have been “the presence of the interloper in your dreams. Or perhaps the Kaliph discovered my desperate plan despite my best effort to stay awake.” Looking at her more closely, ‘Glory’ could see that she appeared not to have slept in over a week.
    With Jarrell obviously having brought the team here for some reason – as Oracle had predicted would be the case – much of the speculation and predictions made earlier seemed well-founded. Jarrell asked the team to accompany her back to her city of Axiom, where there would be refreshments and explanations. Agreeing, the team set out, only to discover that it was unexpectedly difficult to get anywhere for a great many steps. Jarrell’s earlier movements were not some strange religious observation, they were imposed by the physics of this strange place!
    Looking at them impatiently, Jarrell snapped, “Don’t you even know how to walk!? This is hopeless, we’re all doomed!” before breaking down into tears. ‘St Barbara’ immediately put her arms around the weeping girl and made “There, there” noises, explaining gently that this place works differently to what they were used to; of course the team would be clumsy until they got used to the new environment. “But we’re very adaptable. Just tell us what we need to know and we’ll soon get the hang of it.” Wiping away Jarrell’s tears, ‘she’ kissed the green-skinned girl softly, before jerking away as though she had been scalded.
    Getting a grip on herself, Jarrell apologized for missing the obvious, before explaining that they had to build up a certain potential before being able to progress forward; that the more motion in a given direction was attempted, the harder the resistance that had to be overcome became. And since they were a largish group, the resistance to be overcome would be ferocious. The solution was for half the group to take a backwards step “in place” while the others stepped forward; then the others would step back ‘in place’ while the rest joined them.
    ‘Dragon’s Claw’ then announced, “I might have a better idea. Why don’t we try to Moonwalk? Since it’s walking backwards while moving forwards, it might cancel out this resistance.”
    ‘Blackwing’, who had attended numerous parties in her youth, knew how to moonwalk and was quickly able to test the idea, finding that it worked perfectly. With a little practice, ‘he’ could get up to almost 70% of his normal forward movement – which, Jarrell assured them, was extremely fast indeed. As ‘he’ returned to give the others a few quick lessons in modern dance moves, ‘Mist’ commented, “It’s just like a nightmare – you can run all you want, but you’ll never get anywhere – until you suddenly find yourself somewhere else completely.”
    Overhearing the remark, ‘Blackwing’ snarled, “It’s another Blodtryky inconvenience, that’s what it is.”
    Abruptly, ‘Karma’ gelled into the form most of the team were more accustomed to. “Finally!!” ‘she’ exclaimed softly; while in ‘her’ native form, she had been less constrained than the team members using more physical means of locomotion, ‘she’ was also much slower.

Reality Shift

With the secret to rapid group travel now revealed, it was not long before the team saw a strange city in the distance. Tall, cylindrical spires of silver arose, cresting impossibly thin stalks and blockish buildings designed with sweeping curves to the walls. As they traveled, Jarrell demonstrated more of the secrets of motion in this strange world; how the “Big Steps” were always a constant length, but the angle could be anything desired; how you could throw something in one direction and it would just hang there until you canceled the resistance by throwing something behind you; how you could impart a spin or a horizontal curve to the motion by throwing the second item at an angle; how two rocks thrown at the same time could never have exactly the same speed; and how, by throwing an object together with a handful of smaller gravel, she could ensure that the only speed possible to the largest stone was considerably faster than she could possibly have thrown it.
    Several times during the trip, ‘Mist’ began to withdraw, losing her focus on the events taking place around her. At one point she asked for a halt so that she could spend some time meditating. When the journey resumed, ‘Dragon’s Claw’, displaying uncharacteristic sensitivity, asked her what the problem was. ‘Mist’ explained that the world around her seemed to have no fixed foundations, and that she kept losing herself in it. The only point of constancy onto which she could lock her attention was her sense of self, of purpose. She now understood far more clearly why Mist had been so concerned with losing her personal focus that she had to leave the team so abruptly.
    Also continuing to experience problems was ‘Oracle’, who was perpetually getting distracted by what ‘he’ saw around him, and needed constant reminders to keep her mind on the job. ‘Blackwing’, whose mood had not been good to start with, grew increasingly irritable and snappish over the delays and problems of ‘his’ teammates; when Oracle stood transfixed, staring at a pebble ‘he’ had picked up for ten minutes solid, the team’s new strong’man’ almost came to blows with the “master strategist”. Only the foreknowledge that ‘Blackwing’ was going to attack prevented an even greater delay; but the force-field belt’s protection withstood the frustrated attack until ‘St Barbara’ was able to separate the pair.
    ‘Oracle’ did not even acknowledge the distraction, continuing to stare at the rather ordinary-looking stone. “Amazing….” ‘he’ said to himself, “EVERYTHING has a purpose…. even something as mundane as this….” Eventually, he very carefully put it back exactly as he had found it, only then noticing that ‘Blackwing’ was being physically restrained by ‘St Barbara’s shaped forcefield. “Incredible…. I thought this multiverse was built to resemble the old one – before Ragnerok – with only a few changes – but it wasn’t, everything that exists in it has a definite purpose… I can’t tell what it is, by I can FEEL that it exists…”
    Approaching the city took far less time than the team were expecting; they were still accustomed to estimating distance by eye assuming a constant rate of progress, and this was not the case in this strange realm. Within a few minutes of first sighting it, the team were being escorted down a leafy boulevard by Jarrell, at the end of which was an elaborately decorated building which practically screamed “temple”. Inside, they saw wall-to-wall bunks, stacked six high, and every one of them inhabited by someone tossing and turning. The occupants had sunken, black-ringed eye-sockets, were pale and haggard, and look like they had not slept properly in even longer than Jarrell. They also shared her bright green skin.
    One of them is an older man dressed in regal robes. Jarrell knelt on one knee before that cot with a bowed head before rising and turning to speak.

Nightmare of the Emerald City

“It started gradually. At first no-one thought anything about it. The latticelight had been unusually strong, and everyone attributed their inability to sleep well to the conditions. But after a few days it was discovered that everyone was having nightmares, always centering around some deeply personal and sometimes shameful fear or doubt, sometimes even one that the dreamer had not realized he possessed. And a few days after that, people stopped waking up.
    “I don’t know why, but I was somehow stronger than the rest. I was able to keep going long after everyone else had collapsed. It was as though I was being sustained, somehow. I went without sleep for as long as I could, searching every scroll I could find for a cure, working until I dropped. When there were no more scrolls, I built these beds for those who still survived. I hoped that the spirit of Mother Anneth, the sustainer, might protect the dreamers, even if only for a little while.
    “And then, in my dreams, I began to see more than just my nightmares. I discovered that the mind of my beloved father, and the minds of all who will one day be my loyal subjects, had been invaded; captured stealthily by a being who could draw on the power of their nightmare images and make them flesh, who gained strength and power beyond belief from the Dreamers. He is named the Kaliph Morpheus.
    “For months, I spied out his defenses, and learned his plans, and watched as he used creatures and powers and nightmares leached from my people to overrun another atom. And then, with the power of two, a third fell quickly, and then a fourth. Fully 63 quantum spaces have now fallen before his might.
    “And then, one dreary and disturbing night, as the light of the crystal latticework dimmed, he gained an insight most terrifying – he learned that what we knew as reality was only one of a vast order of realms, each inhabited by creatures – creatures of minds unsuspecting, each one infinitely vaster in their own way than the entire sum extant of his vast domains. And he determined to conquer those realms too. I know, for I was listening to every word he spoke to himself in his Tower of Polarity.
    “I had long since taken the opportunities presented to me to steal what knowledge I could from the Kaliph, and though I understood but a second-shell of his secrets, I determined to use what little I knew in one final, last, vain hope of victory. I created the gem, a lesser simulacrum of the Living Crystal that the Kaliph uses to focus the power he has stolen, and insinuated both myself and his image into the nightmares he was sending forth, in hopes that minds of power would recognize the threat and act to save us all. And so you are here, as I prayed but could not bring myself to hope. You are our final hope. Please, I beg you, help us, for all our sakes.”

Perception Shifts

It didn’t take the team long to decide to answer the call for help. Some eyebrows were raised when ‘Dragon’s Claw” opined that the team were “honor-bound” to help – it sounded so much like something the “real” DC might have said, and not at all like something that Blackwing, the current occupant of the body, would have suggested. But, given what was going on in Earth-Halo, they had little choice.
    Discussion about other facets of the situation was a little more extended.
    It was noticed that some members were already displaying the profound personality shifts that Oracle had warned of.
    ‘Glory’ continued to lose track of her fundamentals, becoming cold, emotionless, and dispassionate; dissecting alternative courses of action in purely pragmatic terms, heedless of their morality; her suggestion that the team pre-plan a sequence of members to be sacrificed in order to achieve the goal brought all discussion to a halt for a few minutes while the team members struggled with the idea itself, and then that it was Mist suggesting it.
    ‘Karma’ continued to have problems with control, of both ‘herself’ and ‘her’ powers; on a number of occasions ‘she’ replied to comments that had not actually been made aloud, and whenever ‘her’ concentration waned, ‘she’ reverted to the natural plasma form fundamental to the physical body ‘she’ inhabited. ‘She’ also seemed to be absorbing exotic parts of Karma’s personality, suggesting that “while [she] was all in favor of the principle of aboriginal rights, the only reason the team should risk itself was from loyalty to ‘their own kind’ ” – a question-begging term, given the variety of membership in the team. With a start, ‘she’ seemed to realize what she was saying and assumed an expression of self-disgust, telling the others to forget ‘she’ said anything at all.
    ‘Blackwing’, meanwhile, seemed to be fueled on rage and anger, and at the same time possessed of a strong desire to avoid attention; ‘he’ carefully chose a seating position that ensured that ‘Karma’ was between the team and ‘himself’ and seemed reluctant to say anything at all.


In the end, six other matters of importance were discussed:
    The observed behavior of this realm, and the language used by Jarrell in describing it, were all consistent with this world being “inside” an atom. Each of the “quantum spaces” captured by the Kaliph was a neutron or a proton. The “lattice light” that Jarrell had mentioned was the light emitted by the oscillation of electrons across a covalent bond and back – the brightness indicating the strength of the chemical bond. Obviously, this universe was neither a parallel or divergent world with respect to Earth; it lay upon a 5th-dimensional axis. For convenience’s sake, the team decided to use the rather melodramatic and somewhat inaccurate term, “The 5th Dimension” to describe the location.
    Team members should be cautious when using their borrowed “powers” until they were used to the strange physics of the place. Those who threw punches should use their off-arm as a counter-thrust. Those who threw energy or magic around would be wary of backfires, and so on. As they worked out through trial and error what worked and what didn’t, they could push themselves further.
    The overall objective was not to eliminate or overthrow the Kaliph, but simply to end his threat to other realms of existence. That meant that the Kaliph himself was not the primary objective; the real target was the “Living Gem” that made him so dangerous. Once it was out of the picture, Morpheus himself was an irrelevance.
    Jarrell confirmed that by one metaphysical interpretation, all this could be considered a Dream of hers; by another, equally accurate interpretation, it could be considered an extended dream of all those subjugated by Morpheus; a third, equally real interpretation would have it all as a Dream of Morpheus; and by a fourth, it could be considered nothing more than an extension of Mist’s Dream, which the rest had entered through Karma’s powers. All these perspectives were correct, and the device that permitted all this to take place, and maintained it, was the Gem Of Morpheus. When it was smashed, the dreams would all end – Morpheus’ dreams of power, the dreams which kept Morpheus’ victims comatose, and the dreams of the team members. Everyone would wake up again, and it would all be over .That meant that the team would automatically, from its point of view, be returned to their normal reality, in their normal bodies.
    ‘Oracle” then declared that ‘he’ had integrated enough data to be able to offer a definitive solution to the question of why they were in the wrong bodies at all. “Because Mist was, in one sense, the host, and all this was taking place in a domain subject to Mist’s personality and perceptions of the universe, the events would of necessity reflect any emotional problems she had been having prior to the dream; and Mist had been having problems with a perceived loss of contact with her identity. A fifth, and also equally valid metaphysical, interpretation of the events, was that Mist (despite the appearance of reasonable sanity on the surface) had suffered a minor mental breakdown, and that the fundamental “malleability” of the universe (in her worldview) had caused Reality to change in order to conform with her semi-psychotic perspective.
    “In combination with the information ‘He’ had received from Mist’s mind in the past, this also explains why the bodies had been switched as they had; the new forms were metaphysical interpretations of Mist’s perceptions of, and attitude towards, her fellow team members. Mist was jealous of Glory; so Mist’s “fantasy self” (having retreated or lost contact with her own form) was that of Glory. St Barbara had always been a tower of emotional strength and support to Mist, and hence St Barbara had become the team’s strongest member. She had perceived Oracle as flighty and vulnerable, and hence he was placed in a form which reflected those attributes. As Karma, ‘Oracle’ had spoken to Mist several times about the integrated philosophy of her people, which combined both what humans called “Technology” and what they called “Magic”, and so she had been placed in the form of the most intellectual member. Dragon’s Claw had been perceived as a very subtle person with hidden depths; and so he was placed in a form symbolic of hidden depths and subtlety. Mist thought of Blackwing as a Big Brother, so he was placed in the only remaining masculine form, and – again, because she felt disconnected from what her usual role represented, and because she perceived Glory as an enemy, or at least, as a rival, Glory was placed in Mist’s usual body. You see, it all makes sense – at least as much as any internal logic does in a dream.”
    ‘Glory’ made no response, and seemed not to have realized ‘Oracle’ was talking about her. It was as though one of the cast had interrupted the play to explain what was going on to the audience, while the rest held position and waited for the action to resume.


Jarrell was then brought into the discussion, which now turned to the logistics of attacking the Kaliph. Jarrell’s only access to the Kaliph to date was somehow using her unexplained “Dreamwalker” abilities. That involved subjecting herself to the Kaliph’s “rules”, in effect becoming an element of one of the Kaliph’s dreams – dreams in which he was even more invincible than in actuality.
    What’s more, that tactic constantly risked the Kaliph becoming aware of the nature and purpose of their presence at any time, eliminating any advantage of surprise the team might have. That left the team to make it’s way into the Kaliph’s realm by some other means. The team routinely used four different modes of transport – but the Bright Cutter wasn’t here, and neither was the Champions Transporter. That left ‘Mist’s teleport or ‘Karma’s tunnels through space-time. Since neither of these were under the control of anyone experienced in using them, the choice became one of Risk Management.
    ‘Mist’ could attempt to teleport the team, but if the teleport went wrong – and there was a good chance of it – the consequences would be catastrophic. ‘Karma’, on the other hand, could get accurate coordinates directly from Jarrell’s mind, and even if the tunnel was imperfect, with such a basis, the team should arrive SOMEWHERE in Morpheus’ realm, from which point they could approach his “Tower Of Polarity” by more conventional means (“Blodtryky Hell, More moonwalking,” came the comment from somewhere within the shadows.)

Preparations and Problems

With the decisions made, the team quickly made preparations for the mission. They didn’t know how long they would perceive their journey to take, so they gathered food and water and tents. ‘Glory’, after expressing uncertainty over her control of her powers, requested a Sword from Jarrell’s armory so that she would at least have a weapon with which she had some expertise. Then, without warning, ‘Karma’ launched an inadvertent Psychic attack on the rest of the group, stunning several of the team.
    ‘Blackwing’ staggered back, putting out an arm to brace herself, grabbing hold of a large statue, which came crashing to the ground, crushing several unoccupied houses. ‘Blackwing’ was experiencing the same period of clumsiness that had afflicted Knight immediately after his initial transformation into Blackwing. With ‘his’ temper already on a short fuse, ‘Blackwing’ gave a howl of frustration, picking up the statue and throwing it as hard and far as he could – it froze in place some twenty meters away, hanging accusingly.
    ‘Oracle’, showing unusual sensitivity, quietly spoke to ‘Blackwing’ about the “feedback loop” causing her appearance to continue to mutate and it’s ongoing impact on her psychology. ‘Blackwing’ promptly attempted to tear ‘Oracle’ apart (again), but ‘he’ had again had the foresight to activate his forcefield belt.
    Once again, everyone piled on to restrain the team Chairman; when they had her firmly pinned, ‘Karma’ tactfully suggested a solution, immediately calming ‘Blackwing’s’ ire. The hero immediately requested a deep-set hood and cape from Jarrell, as had been suggested; if no-one knew exactly what she looked like, ‘he’ would be less anxious and self-conscious about his ‘hideous appearance’, or so the theory went.
    Finally, with preparations complete, the mission got underway. Again, the membership was arranged in three layers; ‘Mist’, as field commander, took the lead with Jarrell. ‘Glory’ and ‘Dragon’s Claw’ were in the second rank, ‘Oracle’ and ‘Karma’ the third pair, with ‘Blackwing’ and ‘St Barbara’ bringing up the rear.

Part III: The Realm Of Nightmares

All too soon, the preparations were judged complete, and ‘Karma’ began attempting to to forge a ‘tunnel’ from Jarrell’s realm to the Kaliph’s microspace, advised and guided by ‘Oracle’, the body’s previous inhabitant. The first few attempts were dismal failures, but eventually the way was opened. Whether as a consequence of the local environment or ‘Karma’s inexperience with her powers, the passage was not the soft-glowing white doorway with which the team were familiar; a misshapen hexagon pulsed redly in the air before the team, throbbing with a disturbing irregularity, suggesting that the passage was none too stable. ‘Mist’ was about to suggest that ‘Karma’ release it and try again, when she was overridden; ‘Karma’ announcing, “That’s it, that’s as good as I can do it. We had better go quickly, I don’t know how long I can hold it; the tunnel is resisting me…”
    Quickly, “Mist” marshaled her forces and dispatched them through the portal.
    If the tunnel looked unstable from the outside, it was far more so from within. As they traveled, for the first time they were aware of a perceptible travel time – accompanied by violent lurches from side to side, radical changes in force and direction of gravity, and palpably contradictory information from their eyes and inner ears as to their direction of travel.
    Arrival was not the gentle process that the team were used to, either; the team members were practically spat out the far end like seeds from a fruit that had been squeezed too hard. ‘Oracle’ successfully kept his feet, ‘Dragon’s Claw’ hit the deck, rolled, and leaped to his feet in a single smooth action. ‘Karma’, the last one through, had once again reverted to ‘her’ plasma form, leaving up and down mere labels of convenience; the others did not escape so lightly. Some ended up in trees, others struck trunks at some pace, and “Blackwing’ just rammed the earth at high speed. Despite the violence of the arrival,. none of the team were hurt significantly, and in was only moments before they were examining their new environment.

Plane Of Nightmares

Sharing a Bad Dream

Their first impression of the Nightmare Realm was of a Gothic horror on LSD. Swamps that were solid enough to walk on, stones that were not; trees growing upside down, a perversely twisted reflection in the sky of near normality that dripped like wet paint toward the ground. While this reflection appeared to be but meters overhead, a quick stone’s throw by ‘Blackwing’ immediately established that the separation was incalculably higher.
    Second impressions revealed scattered ruins amongst the debris and multitudes of human bones both old and new carpeting the swamp-like ground. Streamers of noxious and acrid odor drifted through the air in streams of purple-brown haze, pausing occasionally for a bat-winged cherub. Dirty gray sunlight penetrated the smoke, soot, and haze to fall like thick strands of spiderweb amongst the plants and bones. As ‘Mist” soon discovered, these were as sticky as spiderwebs, too.
    It did not take long to realize that the reflection was staggered with the reality; when someone took a step, there would be a few moments delay before the image echoed the action. On other occasions, the reflection would act in advance of the person, moving or behaving in some bizarre manner, which the hapless victim was compelled to emulate. Bones chased dogs, chewing vigorously on their tails, while snakes shed their skeletons and flowers whispered vile imprecisions to one another; and in every shadow were several sets of tiny eyes that stared at the party unblinkingly, only to vanish when one of the team looked squarely at them. In the far distance, stabbing downward from the reflection, was a squat and ugly tower surrounded by a castle born of a collaboration between Esher and Giger.
    “The Kaliph’s Tower Of Polarity,” announced Jarrell, stating the obvious. “Remember, in this place, forms and nightmares are made manifest and obey the Kaliph’s whims. While he should not yet know we are here, he will in due course discover our presence, and will seek to use those powers against us. Even then, he will likely assume that we are rogue dreamers that have somehow escaped his influence, and will not bring his full powers to bear. While he will eventually discover his error, we will have a period of grace in which to travel to the Tower itself.”
    “All right, you know the drill and you know the objective; let’s move out,” instructed ‘Dragon’s Claw’. Immediately they did so, one other element of the Nightmare through which the team traveled revealed itself – portions of the sky and ground intermingled and entwined with each other, changing the landscape with every step. What had been “solid marsh” a moment earlier was subject to a howling gale, or a blizzard, or became a rocky quagmire when the next person attempted to follow. As a result, progress seemed to take forever.

Dream Ambush

The team had cautiously traveled five or six miles though this surrealistic wasteland when they were attacked without warning, giant bats in psychedelic colors swooping from places of concealment overhead.
    ‘Mist’, accustomed to being forewarned by her Life Sense, was taken by surprise and received a nasty gash along her back. ‘Dragon’s Claw’, used to near-invulnerability, charged headlong into battle, recalling the excesses of Dragon’s Claw in the team’s early days. ‘St Barbara’ was a little more aware of ‘her’ changed circumstances, and rather clumsily took to the air.
    Lack of self-awareness was certainly not a shortcoming being experienced by ‘Blackwing’ and ‘he’ began pinpoint bombardment of the creatures with thrown tree-trunks; as St Barbara, ‘he’ had of course been accustomed to a Range-Combat tactical role. ‘Oracle’ had activated ‘his’ forcefield belt just before the attack began, and soon had a number of attackers trying to claw through the protective bubble of energy, making them easy targets; otherwise ‘he’ completely ignored their presence.
    Two of the fliers attacked the foolhardily-exposed ‘Dragon’s Claw’ bringing him back to reality in a hurry, as they almost clawed his arm to shreds; he turned tail and fled into the bushes. Karma attempted to stun selected fliers, but only managed to KO ‘Mist’; but then, ‘St Barbara’, flying at much greater speed and with far greater control, began firing at the ‘sitting ducks’ perched on ‘Oracle’s Forcefield, and any shift in the tide of battle that resulted from these injuries was immediately overcome.
    The Danish warrior-woman fired blast after blast with enthusiasm and abandon, reveling in ‘her’ abilities, and soon the creatures were fleeing. ‘Glory’ collapsed almost immediately the team counter-attack began, weeping and screaming for them to “stop”; while Blackwing heeded the instruction, not knowing what the problem was, but ‘St Barbara’ incinerated bat after bat without remorse. When the sky was clear of enemies, she soared into the sky, performing barrel rolls and high-G loops for the sheer thrill of it.

Sense Of Life

‘Blackwing’ attempted to calm the distraught ‘Glory’ as ‘Mist” came to, asking what had hit her; ‘Glory’ demanded to know, “How could you stand it? I could FEEL the life-force being torn from them when they dies… it was horrible, so cold and empty afterwards…. I could feel their existences just fade away….”
    ‘Mist”, recovering, replied, “That’s why I don’t kill unless it’s necessary; but if it saves lives, I’d do what I had to do and cope with the consequences afterwards. I’m a trained soldier, and sometimes soldiers have to kill; that’s all there is to it.”
    ‘Blackwing’ said nothing, but the look ‘he’ directed at ‘Mist’ was one of horror and the certainty that there was a lot more to be told on the subject. How DID Glory live with herself? Even the drains must have felt like she was slowly murdering the target – she just stopped short of finishing the job. For the first time, she wondered if Glory was just a well-adjusted sociopath. It took considerable persuasion before Glory would even heal the team’s injuries, stating that she could feel her own life-force ebb briefly when she did so.
    In total contrast to these events, ‘St Barbara’ was clearly coming to terms with ‘her’ situation quickly – in fact, she was almost hyper, she was so exhilarated by the sense of freedom she had discovered in the air. When the team regrouped, ‘she’ remained overhead; until the conclusion of the mission and ‘her’ return to her rightful body, she would not willingly touch the ground again. She was no longer the helpless weakling….

The Hollow Man

The trek quickly resumed; the team had no reason to believe that they had actually been detected, and the chances of that situation persisting would be greatly enhanced by leaving the scene of the battle as quickly as they could. They had not made much progress before a huge form, 20′ high, bubbled out from the rocks and gelled into a giant suit of medieval armor, which drew it’s sword, saluted, and then charged at the team.
    Once again, the team swung into action, led by the hyperactive ‘St Barbara’, the charging ‘Dragon’s Claw’, and the missile attacks of ‘Blackwing’. ‘Oracle’ carelessly kicked over a rotten log before approaching a brightly colored flower and again activating his protective force field to protect him while he examined it. ‘Glory’ crumbled to her knees, moaning “No, not again,” while ‘Karma’ attempted, successfully, to adopt ‘her’ crystalline form. ‘Mist’ watched helplessly, her sense of ‘reality’ eroded by the combination of Mist’s mystic awareness and by the chaotic environment to such an extent that she had no idea what was real and what was simply potential.
    ‘St Barbara’s explosive energy discharges were the first to reach the target, blowing substantial holes in it, and revealing it to be completely hollow. The shockwave deflected the lumber that had been hurled by ‘Blackwing’, negating the usefulness of his attack.
    ‘Dragon’s Claw’, adapting to his changed circumstances (despite appearances) grabbed the arm of the giant and swung underneath it’s grasp and up, perching securely on it’s shoulders, where he started slicing chunks out of the surface, while ‘Karma’ slowly strode forward. ‘St Barbara’, her first line of attack shown to be ineffective, switched tack, forming a wall around the Hollow Man, who had continued to advance toward ‘Glory’, ignoring the damage inflicted on it.. ‘Blackwing’, having also realized that ‘he’ and ‘St Barbara’ were getting in each other’s way, leaped forwards, only to hang suspended in midair by the strange symmetrical physics of the micro-reality.
    ‘Karma’, understanding the problem, also leaped forward and (exercising the acrobatic skills for which Dragon’s Claw was formerly renowned), used his super-strong teammate as a springboard, rebounding back the way he had come; With an loud ‘Boom’, ‘Blackwing’s interrupted leap resumed at a vastly accelerated pace, crashing through the suit of armor like tinfoil, tearing it in four on the way through. ‘Dragon’s Claw’ had to leap for safety, only to see the ground for which he had aimed transform into quicksand-like rock. Only a rotten log was left floating on top of the quagmire (the same one that ‘Oracle’ had casually repositioned).
    With a feat of Acrobatics the equal of DC’s best, he was able to alter his trajectory to leapfrog the quagmire, using the floating log as a stepping stone, while pieces of the giant flew in all directions.
    One arm landed near ‘Glory’ and began dragging itself toward her, grasping her leg; there was an audible ‘snap” as the bone was crushed. Screaming in pain and fury, ‘Glory’ flayed about with the Sword she had borrowed from Jarrell, slicing fingers of the hollow glove. ‘St Barbara’, meanwhile, had spotted the torso and left arm, and had attacked using the shaped force-field; projecting it as a stick-figure inside the suit, she then expanded it until the nightmare creature was shattered. ‘Blackwing’ had kept hold of the head-piece, and one swift blow at full strength was enough to shatter it like an eggshell; whirling in place like a dervish, the pieces were easily scattered. Finally, the Hollow Man was no more.

Angst & Recriminations

Afterwards, recriminations were heated.
‘Blackwing’ came under fire for thoughtlessness and excessive aggression, as did ‘Dragon’s Claw’, who replied that he was doing the best he could with a limited arsenal. But these were just the warm-up, as ‘Mist’ accused ‘Glory’ of being cowardly and uncommitted, and ‘Glory’ counter-accused ‘Mist’ of being narrow-minded and prejudiced against reality, and of engaging in wishful thinking. ‘Blackwing’, still smarting from her own rebuke, gave each of them a serving, “At least I’m TRYING, not WHINING.”
    To separate the pair, who were close to blows, ‘he’ declared ‘Dragon’s Claw’ to be “temporary acting reserve field commander”, used ‘his’ authority as Chairman to declare both Mist and Glory as ‘temporarily unfit for command duties’, and turned the running of the show over to the new appointee.
    ‘Karma’ ended the debate by angrily denouncing them all, punctuating each comment with a harsh mental finger-prod. “I thought Humans had climbed out of the trees and grown up, but you’re behaving like a pack of children! ‘Blackwing’, you’re always going to be a second or two slower to attack than ‘St Barbara’; take that into account next time and get over this bad mood you’re in – we’re all in uncomfortable situations. ‘St Barbara’, this is a team, start acting like a member. ‘Mist’, if you don’t like the reality around you, you’ve got the power to stabilize it. ‘Glory’, start pulling your weight and stop being such a prima-donna. And DC, you don’t have to keep proving yourself to us, all right? There are times when your skills aren’t the most useful, but that’s true of all of us. For heaven’s sake don’t get in the way just to get your turn in the limelight.”
    Jarrell, who had watched these angry exchanges in silence, then stepped forward, and discretely brought the team’s focus back onto the objective, and they moved out in sullen silence.

Wasteland Of Eyes

Ahead, the forest/swamp gave way to a desolate wasteland. Cover ranged from minimal to nonexistent. Great cracks littered the ground. The terrain ahead seemed to climb rapidly toward a distant mountain range, the tops of which curved above the horizon. “Once we start across, discovery by Morpheus is inevitable,” advised Jarrell. “How long that will take is a question that is open to debate.The good news is that the adjacent energy densities are spread further apart as we approach the surface, so we should travel far more quickly from this point. I caution you again not to show weakness to the Kaliph, he will exploit it.”
    “But I AM weak!”, exclaimed ‘Dragon’s Claw’.
    Jarrell was soon proved correct; it took only an hour to travel a distance apparently greater than that which had taken hours to traverse this far. The group were almost three-quarters of the way to the Mountain when they became aware of bestial eyes watching them from the clouds which erupted from the sky overhead like inverted mushrooms. The eyes would focus on one team member, then blink closed and vanish back into the haze, only to appear from a different cloud and focus on a different member. “The Kaliph has seen us, but has not yet realized that we are a group,” advised Jarrell. “Beware; he is sure to invoke some menace to attack whoever he perceives as the weakest. He probably won’t stay to watch, relying on his nightmare creations to deal with us.”
    “But can’t he see that we’re traveling as a group?”
    “Distances are unreliable this close to the edge; two things that appear to be side-by-side may in fact be far apart. If I had not been able to spy out the terrain, we would almost certainly become truly separated from each other.”
    As predicted,. an attack swiftly followed, a gelatinous blob bubbling out from the cracks underfoot and swallowing ‘Oracle’ whole, lifting ‘him’ to hang helplessly in midair. Fortunately, ‘he’ had activated his protective forcefield well in advance; the attack would soon prove to be nothing more than an inconvenience, ‘he’ was sure. Unexpectedly, the inner edge of the blob began to dissolve into a fine mist and to seep into the bubble of force surrounding the precognitive, where it congealed and began dripping down the inner surface.
    The general merriment at ‘Oracle’s discomfiture quickly died, and the team members began taking action. ‘Blackwing’ tried to tear it off, but it flowed through ‘his’ fingers like sand; ‘he’ could find nothing to grip. ‘St Barbara’ tried to blast it off, with similar lack of results. ‘Karma’ tried to seize mental control of it, without success, managing only to induce a bout of chicken-clucking in St Barbara, continued evidence of a lack of mastery over ‘her’ powers. ‘Glory’, confronted with a foe without life-force, was fully willing to act, for a change; but there was nothing she could do to affect it. Similarly, ‘Dragon’s Claw’ had only one possible mode of attack with any chance of success, the illusion power of the Honor Blade – but it twisted and burned his hands when he tried to use it, and in any case, ‘Karma’. reported that the creature was mindless, existing only to consume whatever it enveloped.
    That left only ‘Mist’ as having the potential to do something about the problem; but ‘Mist’ was struggling to comprehend what options she had, let alone selecting one that might prove effective. So many of Mist’s spells relied on her ignorance of modern science, cause-and-effect, and so on. ‘Mist’ did not have that advantage; she would be forced to ignore the spells Mist had learned and resort to casting Ad-hoc spells.
    Immediately she recast her thinking in terms of achieving effects that were at least scientifically plausible, within her understanding of the subject, ‘Mist’ felt far more comfortable about her situation, and commenced crafting a suitable spell. In this case, what she wanted was a suction; coupled with a tubular-shaped force field from ‘St Barbara’, the result should alter the creature’s assets into vulnerabilities. A simple low-pressure zone immediately above the tube’s opening would do the trick.
    The tactic worked perfectly; and while ‘Mist’ would not be as efficient or razor-sharp at casting spells, she at last felt that she could at least make a contribution to the group effort. And, with practice, her skills should pick up quickly.
    ‘Dragon’s Claw’, taking his new role as the (acting temporary) field commander seriously, then gave Oracle a dressing-down. “Overconfident” and “Secretive” were two of the milder terms; the point was that Oracle had foreseen the threat in time to alter the settings on his force belt to a spherical arrangement, but had not seen fit to warn the team. Nor had he made any contribution at all to his own rescue, simply waiting for the team to look after him. These had been amongst Karma’s most annoying personality traits, and they had only been intensified by the circumstances, from ‘annoying’ to ‘infuriating’. Oracle had always been a reticent, even taciturn, member, avoiding any hint of the spotlight, but not even he would have withheld something as pertinent as an attack on the team and the blowing of their veil of secrecy.
    The superficially contrite ‘Oracle’ made an insincere promise to “do better” as the team continued its march.

Climb Every Mountain

In no time, they found themselves high up within the mountains, which were far smaller than they had appeared. The major cause of this illusion was that the surface itself was curving upwards, so that what appeared to near-vertical cliff-faces were in fact near-horizontal surfaces. It took only a few minutes hard climbing for the team to pick their way to the feet of the great volcanoes that marked the boundary between upper and lower domains. From here, they could see practically the whole micro-world – and they were equally visible.
    This was also the point at which the Kaliph Morpheus would realize that he faced a single group, not coincidental individuals. No warning from ‘Oracle’ was necessary, the entire team expected to be attacked when they reached this point. Sure enough, from one of the clefts in the volcanic walls, a number of amorphous red vapors erupted, each racing for a different target. Being prepared, the team swung into action without the need for direction.
    ‘St Barbara’, as usual, had the clearest vantage point, and hence the most warning as to the exact nature of the threat . She didn’t know what would happen to someone engulfed by one of the vapors, and wasn’t inclined to find out. Erecting a force barrier between the vapors was the obvious move; because of the wide area that had to be surrounded, the resulting defense was very weak, but it would buy everyone else time. ‘Mist’ converted a nearby boulder into two great stone hemispheres, which were seized by ‘Karma’ (silicate form) and ‘Blackwing’.
    It was not long before the vapors ate through the wall erected by ‘St Barbara’, and she was soon leading several of the vapors on a merry chase, as were ‘Dragon’s Claw’ and ‘Glory’. When all was reported as ready the trio led their pursuers through a pass, on the far side of which the strongmen waited. When the vapors were in exactly the right position, the pair slammed their hemispheres together, and ‘St Barbara’ used her energy blast to seal the hemispheres. ‘Mist’ then completed the job by shrinking the sphere back to it’s original size and beyond, compressing the vapors to the point where they liquefied.

Settling In

Afterwards, ‘Mist’, still exhilarated by the success of her early spell-castings, declared “I could get used to this.”
    ‘St Barbara’, meanwhile, was amusing herself by flirting with ‘Glory’ – and suddenly found herself sneaking sideways glances at ‘Dragon’s Claw’ and ‘Oracle’, much to ‘her’ disgust. Dragon’s Claw’s mind was straight heterosexual in orientation, but St Barbara’s body was naturally Bisexual; when his personal inclinations brought one of his female companions to his attention, the body reacted – but it was just as willing to react to a male presence. Further confusing his sexual attitudes, he couldn’t escape the feeling that biologically he SHOULD be more attracted to men than women – all the hormones were strictly female, after all. When was ‘she’ being straight and when was ‘she’ being kinky? He couldn’t tell, anymore. To get ‘herself’ under control, ‘she’ again took refuge in the intoxicating freedom of flight, pushing ‘her’ body through a series of difficult aerobatic maneuvers.
    “Blackwing’ was rather less than amused. Now ‘one of the boys’, she had become acutely aware of how her teammates reacted to the physical presence of her former body. While not the smartest member of the team, she was acutely aware that the way her body moved naturally drove all awareness of her non-physical attributes out of the minds of the males around her. She saw how they reacted to those teasing glances, and discovered that she was feeling jealous of her own body at the same time that she was attracted to it. And, at the same time, she was angry that they could forget so easily that she had a mind, as well. While she never sought to be the center of attention, some small part of her had always taken secret pleasure in being attractive, and in the power it gave her over others (even if she never used that power). Every time she saw her former body, it only reinforced her heightened sensitivity to the contrast in how they looked at her now – as something monstrous, unattractive, and inhuman. And every time, she felt her shape shift a little under the concealing cloak that Jarrell had supplied her.

Cavalcade Of Horrors

Having recognized that an alliance of forces opposed him, the Kaliph Morpheus was not about to give up without something far more substantial in the way of a fight. They might have imprisoned his ghost-like vapors, but he had many other nightmares on which to draw.
    The team were not given the opportunity to do much more than take a deep breath, when they were again under attack. And with each attack, the environment shifted to advantage the ever more outrageous forces summoned to attack the party. Giant spiders were followed by Fire-breathing Rabbits, which were followed by flying three-headed sharks, then rotting corpses.
    This proved to be just the tonic that ‘Blackwing’ needed to distract herself from the gender/sexual/emotional confusion that she had been experiencing, and she threw ‘himself’ into the battles with abandon. After a while, she discovered that there is a particular satisfaction to thumping the hell out of something when you’re upset, and began to luxuriate in the sensation of raw power delivered, not with an impersonal gesture, but with a solid ‘Thump’.
    ‘Mist’, too, was beginning to revel in the opportunities afforded her by her ability to transform the world around her. She cast ad-hoc spell after spell, each seemingly bigger and more extreme than the last. She no longer paid even conceptual lip service to internal scientific logic, indulging in any flight of fancy that occurred to her. Rains of treacle, giant shrimp, balls of fire, turning trees into mini-volcanoes, even teleporting half of something into a solid object. A conga-line of purple anteaters dealt with the swarm of Giant Ants who came looking for dinner, and an earthquake shattered the tidal wave of rock sweeping toward the team.
    The third member of the team who was feeling almost drunk with power was ‘St. Barbara’, who fired energy blast after energy blast, at times using a shaped forcefield to “bank” her shots. When she tired, she switched to firing low-intensity ‘tactical’ blasts designed to toss targets into range of another team member.
    The rest weren’t as effective. ‘Oracle’ kept getting lost in the wonder of a universe only he could see, and was capable of only protecting himself. ‘Glory’ could go one better than that, and if forced to, would defend herself by means of the sword, parrying attack after attack until one of the heavy-hitters was free to protect her. ‘Karma’ was willing and able to attack, but control still eluded ‘her’.
    ‘Dragon’s Claw’ had no such problem, but his ability to be effective was severely limited. He spent his time spotting tactical opportunities and dodging (friendly fire half the time). Jarrell, faithful to her role as guide, ensured that the Kaliph was unable to use deceptions or distractions to mislead the party as the struggled ever-closer to their goal.

To Beard A Kaliph

Eventually, the team fought their way to the foot of the Tower Of Polarity. As had been feared, if there had ever been an entrance into the Tower, the ability to create literally anything someone dreamed in a Nightmare had enabled the Kaliph to erase it. The tower walls rippled and convulsed like a living thing, and its walls were as smooth as glass. At the same time it was as close to impenetrably solid as the Kaliph could make it; only from above could an entrance possibly be forced – perhaps.
    ‘St Barbara’ and ‘Mist’ each tried to reach the top by means of flight, but were attacked by the tower itself and brushed back to ground level almost contemptuously; they were too much the center of attention. That left only one member skillful enough to climb the walls, while the rest ran interference for him – ‘Dragon’s Claw’s turn in the spotlight had at last arrived as foretold.
    Inch by Inch, he scaled the tower using as much stealth as he could command. Reaching the top, he found the window that the Kaliph used to watch over his domain and leapt through. Spotting the Kaliph, ‘DC’ took a leaf out of the Kin battle manual – he screamed and leaped, wielding his Katana like a madman and throwing shuriken with his left.
    As he had suspected, he was no match for the Kaliph in single combat, but the fury of his attack distracted his enemy, who fell back in momentary disarray. Pressing his advantage to it’s limit, the neo-Japanese warrior never let up his barrage of attacks, dueling not to score or even to hit the target, but simply to keep the Kaliph busy reacting to him. Without the direct supervision of the Kaliph, the rest of the team were able to quickly ascend the tower on one of ‘St Barbara’s shaped force fields, created in the form of an ascending platform.
    When he judged the time to be right, ‘Dragon’s Claw’ (who had still not landed a solid blow on his target) leaped over the Kaliph’s head in a particularly showy and ostentatious maneuver. As the Kaliph turned to follow, ‘Blackwing’ hurled himself through the window, crashing into the Kaliph from behind, followed by the rest of the team.
    Despite getting a free, surprise attack, at full power, the team were quickly forced onto the defensive, as ‘Karma’s attack was mis-targeted inwards. ‘She’ collapsed, unable to take any further part in proceedings. Then Morpheus unleashed the power that had gained him his authority in the first place – a devastating emotional control ability. Fear, doubt, and Lethargy swept over the team, insecurity and confusion and panic struck them in waves.
    So intent was the Kaliph on this attack that he forgot about ‘Dragon’s Claw’ again; a lapse that the hero intended to take full advantage of.
    Again screaming his defiance, the martial artist leaped – not toward the Kaliph, but toward the Green Glowing Gem that was the focus of Morpheus’ power. Hands of stone erupted from the walls to seize Dragon’s Claw, but the distraction again had the desired effect, as ‘Mist’ was able to cast a counter-spell to the Kaliph’s ‘emotional storm’.
    As Morpheus turned to face her next attack, she fired an attack so devastating that the tower itself exploded around them, and everyone tumbled into the debris.
    Obviously tiring of this two-front war, the Kaliph attacked furiously, ignoring ‘Dragon’s Claw’, who was trapped beneath falling debris. But he was stretched too thin, unable to keep track of everyone, and so his back was turned when Dragon’s Claw tossed his sword to the one team member who had made zero contributions to the battle, and who was considered no threat by the Kaliph – ‘Glory’. Raising the weapon high overhead, she rammed it down into the Living Crystal. For a heartbeat, all was still – and then the Crystal exploded, as the Kaliph screamed, “NOOOOO!”

And, just as the Crystal shattered, so the did the reality that Morpheus had created…..

Epilogue I

The team awoke to find themselves gathered around the conference table in Boston. Hours had elapsed since the dream-crystal was shattered, propelling the team’s awareness into the Micro-realm, but they appeared to have been immobile throughout. Watching the team intently was a clearly-distressed Spider, who told them that he had been about to give up on waiting for them to come out of whatever kind of trance they had been in. Delicately, the team gave Spider a superficial account of the events of the last few hours. It was clear that many members would be some time coming to terms with what they had learned about themselves and their teammates.
    One member who would not be doing that reconciliation with the team was Mist. More clearly than ever, she understood herself, and that she could no longer continue with the team. She did not even have to announce her departure; Glory did that, drawing on her newfound understanding of the forces and needs that drove her teammate. The other members said their farewells, leaving Mist with a standing invitation to visit sometime, and if she needed help, she knew where to find them. Only St Barbara seemed not to recognize that Mist needed to make what had been a temporary separation, permanent. Mist thanked them, but – in addition to the personal reasons that they all knew, she now possessed a unique insight into the problems that Avalon would encounter in its quest to raise it’s technological standards. Her people needed that knowledge, so she no longer had a choice; she had to leave.
    Spider then handed Dragon’s Claw a letter that had been sent “Special Delivery” while the team were in the 5th Dimension, announcing that it looked like Mist was not the only member who would be departing. A refusal would have been sent through regular mail; only an acceptance of DC’s proposal to reform the Ullar Youth warranted a special delivery. A few seconds later, Spider’s surmise was shown to be correct. DC announced that he would be around for a couple of days, tidying up loose ends, but would be leaving by the end of the week to take up his new responsibilities.
    “And one other piece of unhappy news,” Spider concluded, “I regret to announce that Tally – Hellcat – and I are divorcing. Our marriage has been on the rocks for a while now; we tried not to let it get in the way of the job, but couldn’t stop the job getting in the way of the marriage. That’s the price that law-enforcement types sometimes have to pay, I’m afraid. So I guess I’ll be around a lot more from now on….”

Epilogue II: two days later…

Life for Zenith-3 is began to shake down to a new normal. Mist was no longer a member. Jimmy was still comatose, but his vital signs were stronger; he could awaken at any time. St Barbara had still not decided to do about the crush he has on her; she’s been wondering how much she led him on without realizing it, in light of some uncomfortable truths she learned about herself in the 5th Dimension. Dragon’s Claw had tied up his loose ends – some of which were very mysterious, involving sealed messages and urgent consultations with Behemoth.
    It’s all very worrying to the team.
    Spider has sought solace from his troubles in the arms of Glory; but she has yet to decide whether or not to encourage his attentions or turn him down. Everyone has slept soundly, but awoke with a lot on their minds.
    Several outstanding issues remain unresolved from the team’s sojourn in the 5th Dimension. Both of the Deputy Command positions are again vacant; and another round of elections have to organized to fill the gap. Mist’s retirement has left a large hole in the teams resources, which has to be allowed for.
    It seems almost certain that at some point, Morpheus – possibly no longer a Kaliph – will return to bring misery to the team. No megalomaniac worth his salt could swallow coming so close to victory only to have it snatched from his grasp.
    But possibly the most significant – if not the most important – outstanding issue was raised by Oracle during the mission debriefing. He had found the whole concept of a “Living Crystal” fascinating, and had spent some time mulling it over in his mind, arriving at a line of unverifiable speculation, which was duly transcribed into the records:
    “Do you realize that Viruses form crystals when dehydrated? Tobacco Mosaic virus can be dessicated, dried, cut up, and sprinkled on a tobacco plant – and it will infect that plant. In fact, the actual term Virus is an abbreviation of a more specific term – ‘Filterable Virus’ – so named because they can pass through a filter fine enough to filter Bacteria – the finest filter known at the time the Viruses were discovered. A dried virus is therefore once possible form of living crystal.
    “Now, at the micro-world scale, a single water molecule is whole universes wide. By definition, any virus at that scale MUST be in crystal form.”
    “Which is neither here nor there until you realize that there is only one known variety of life-form which is potentially that small AND capable of bestowing some pretty fearsome, if specific, powers. So, for the record, I put the question: Was Morpheus’ gem a Cosmic Symbiote – and if so, can it regroup and regrow from whatever shards were left behind…?”

And somewhere in the churning waters of the winter Atlantic, someone was swimming desperately for Boston Harbor, trying to reach Team Zenith-3 before it’s too late. But that’s a tale for some other time…

The Power Of Dreams

There are some points worth emphasizing about this plotline.

The Hero System

I was helped considerably in preparing the adventure by the Hero System, which explicitly lists psychological quirks and traits, and by my own variation on those rules, which expands and extends that practice. That meant that I didn’t have to play psychoanalyst before getting to work on the adventure.

Categorizing Personality Traits

Each Character’s personality traits were broken into three groups: Those that were inherently part of the character for reasons of biology or race; those that were learned or instilled as a result of personal experiences or culture; and those that had evolved as specific coping mechanisms & reactions to the paranormal abilities of the character (this was a superhero campaign, after all). The character points value of each trait within the group gave an indication as to that trait’s relative strength. It’s worth noting that I had to know the characters in question in depth and detail to be able to do this. Fortunately, I had been privy to the character generation process for almost all of them.

Composite Characters

These were then used to create composite characters – the biological traits of one character (A), plus the personal experiences and culture of another (B), plus a transition from the coping mechanisms and responses that used to apply to the character providing the personal experiences element (B) to either those provided by the initial character (A) or to something new, where an element of (B), reinforced, could fulfill that role within the character’s makeup.

Internal Logic and Choices of Composites

I had so many different ways to explain the choice of composite characters that I could pretty much choose the most interesting and enlightening options, then pick the justification that gave the answer I wanted. Some of those explanations were offered in the course of the adventure synopsis above; others never got mentioned and are now long-forgotten.


When you put personalities together by adding A+B+(C-> D), some of the personality traits would reinforce each other, or trigger each other. If “protective of children” or something to that effect is listed on both A and B, then A+B would receive a double-dose of it. This meant that second-tier personality traits of both A and B would rise in significance to become a dominant factor in the psychology of A+B.


On the other hand, some traits would tend to cancel each other out. For example, if A has ‘hot-headed’ and B has ‘calm’, or ‘slow to anger’, or ‘calculating’, or any of half-a-dozen others, they can be considered to subtract from each other’s impact on the A+B character, effectively canceling each other out. I made careful note of these cases so that I could deliberately introduce circumstances that would highlight the changes in behavior.


The C-to-D transitions were used to plan how the composite characters would evolve as they became more – “comfortable” isn’t quite the right word, but it will do – in their new composite bodies. Again, careful notes were made about how these would impact the characters so that highlighting events could be written into the plot.

From the inside looking out

I spent quite a bit of time thinking about how different characters would see the world, given their combination of abilities. Many of them had/have ‘extra senses’ as part of their combination of abilities; suddenly, someone else would be looking the world through those eyes. In part, this was done through discussions`with the players of the original characters.

I wanted to emphasize how these perceptions changed their world-view, and how they had manifested in certain character traits (the C->D element), as much as I could. In the end, I wasn’t able to do everything on my list in this respect – there is no mention made of the unusual vision powers (microscopic, telescopic, 270-degree vision) that St Barbara, now in the body of Blackwing, had to cope with, for example. There simply wasn’t enough time to do it all. There were some that had to come up, because they were too important to the composite characters; the others went unremarked simply because those characters had other things of greater significance to the character to resolve/display.

From the outside looking in

I also spent time with each player in the weeks/months leading up to the adventure finding out how each of the characters saw each other member of the team, and what their self-images were. These were a summation of the character’s in-game interactions with the characters in question, so while they may have started with a cultural/personality-based (i.e. defined) predisposition, they had inevitably evolved in the course of play. Some of these external perceptions became central to the way the characters interacted, because psychology causes behavior which creates both perceptions and interactions.

Combat Roles

I also had to think about how the characters would behave in combat. Some composites would find ways to use their new abilities in roles that were analogous to those they usually occupied within the team, while others would need to adjust to new roles – and would react to those roles in various ways.

The choice not have an immediate combat sequence was deliberate – I wanted the players to have a chance to get used to the challenges and rewards of roleplaying the new composite role before I introduced this added complication.

In part, characters assume a given combat role because of their abilities, and in part, because it suits their psychological profile. Take two characters, give them the same abilities but different personalities, and the individual’s combat styles will evolve in different directions. This adventure gave me the rare opportunity to explore all that.

The Dreamscape

This sort of wholesale body-swapping could only plausibly happen in a dream. That was fine, characters like Nightmare and Sandman have been around in comics for a long time, stemming from the notion of attacking characters when they are at their most vulnerable. At the same time, I wanted to explore the implications of a character that’s popped up in Marvel Comics a number of times (starting in the Fantastic Four), Psycho-Man and the ability of something so microscopic to have impacts on the macroscopic world. In particular, how was it that characters who shrink too small in the marvel universe always end up in the same place, dubbed the Micro-verse?

Subatomic particles the relative size of planets? Okay, that derives from the “solar system” model of subatomic structures. So the Psycho-Man lives/lived on one particular subatomic particle that was part of one particular atom – how can you hit the same atom time after time? The only explanation was for the entire place to be an ‘elsewhere space’ that was accessible through shrinking, but was actually full-sized, relative to those who went there – another Dimension. Marvel themselves eventually came to the same conclusion.

I also wanted to update the concept by expanding various aspects of subatomic physics that weren’t as well known back in the day, such as the defined electron shells, and quantum mechanics, to the macroscopic scale of the characters. James P. Hogan’s “Entoverse” (part of his Giants Series) had explored one interpretation of the concept; I wanted to touch on some alternatives, and add a whole new chapter to the campaign’s cosmology.

The Dreamscape that resulted was strange and unique, but consistent throughout. It was a Morphic Reality that responded to the influence of Dreams. The Kaliph Morpheus had the ability in this realm to make dreams come true, and hence had set about fulfilling his dreams of domination.

Dreams get to the heart

Dreams get to the heart of how we see ourselves and our world, and how we think that others see us. They touch on our deepest fears, and our wildest and most unrealistic aspirations. If you could compile each individual’s dreams, it would be as uniquely identifiable as a fingerprint, because dreams reflect who we are at a very fundamental level. That is their singular nature.

Dreams can affect ‘reality’

But Dreams can change the way we behave, and how we think, and – by extension – can therefore be at the root of events that transpire within our lives in the ‘real world’. It is probably going too far to suggest that all personality development takes place within our dreams and our nightmares, but perhaps our dreams and nightmares are manifestations of integrating our experiences into our personalities. They offer fertile grounds for the occasional adventure that gets to the heart of who the characters are and how they perceive the world around them, dealing directly with things that can otherwise only be addressed indirectly, inferred by actions and statements in the ‘rel’ game world. They can be powerful instruments in the hands of the GM who is willing to use them.

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Ethics For Sale? – The Role of Native Advertising

Unlikely News

Will news stories like this become more than a typo?

There’s a new trend in online news that is creating waves. It’s called Native Advertising and it’s already all around you. And that means that it should be part of any modern-era or near-future game.

What is Native Advertising?

There is a current affairs programme in Australia that watches the media for exaggeration, error, and – at times – outright fabrication, without fear or favor. It’s called (not too surprisingly), Media Watch. On Monday April 21 they featured a story on the show about Native Advertising, and reported at some length the current controversy about the practice. You can read a transcript of the show (and possibly view it online) at the Episode 12 page of the show’s website. Watching the episode, I had a few thoughts on the subject beyond those offered, or quoted in the reports.

Native Advertising is the practice of advertisers sponsoring content to appear on news sites, not just advertising. Sounds simple, almost trivial, doesn’t it? But the more you dig into it, the more significant this change in behavior appears – at least to some people.

A summary of the controversy

Stories and articles on a news provider’s main site that look and feel just like the stories around it but that are actually paid for and often produced on behalf of an advertiser blur the lines between advertisement and news story. The characteristics identified by Junkee’s founder, Tim Duggan, and quoted by Media Watch are:

  • Quality content,
  • Inspired by a brand, and
  • Delivered ‘In-stream’.

“Quality” in this context simply means that it has to look as interesting as any other story on the site, and be as indistinguishable from it as possible.

The big problem is that mainstream news sites are being forced to adopt the same practice by the need to stay competitive. There’s the Guardian and the BBC in England, the Washington Post, New York Times, Time, and many others – they are all doing it. In November last year, the Wall Street Journal identified the trend and warned, “…as the push toward native ads gains steam, the already murky distinctions between ads and non-ads will only get murkier. Not long from now, most of the paid messages you encounter online will be dressed up as unpaid messages, and figuring out which is which will be an ever more difficult task.”

The implied criticism is that advertising is being dressed up as news, compromising the independence of the media upon which we increasingly rely for information.

The second part of the criticism is that the media outlets hosting this ‘news’ are selling their credibility, or at the very least, putting their credibility on the line. And that can go horribly wrong, as The Atlantic discovered last year when it presented seven pages of ‘Sponsor Content’ for the Church of Scientology, producing howls of criticism.

And some are simply concerned that they are selling this credibility for peanuts, for insufficient revenue to actually keep the media operation financially viable. If the major news institutions fail, and many of them are doing so, all that will be left will be sites offering paid advertising dressed up as content.

Advertising disguised as content is not new

For years now, advertisers have known that an ad that’s catchy enough or interesting enough can go viral, and that’s been the holy grail of many an advertising agency. They soon discovered that they were more likely to succeed if their campaign didn’t look like an advert. People are less inclined to engage their “cynicism circuits” if what they are being presented with looks like programme content, and hence the claims by the advertisers look and sound more credible.

The theory is that everyone wins – the audience get entertained, the advertiser draws attention to his brand, and the hosting site draws traffic, enabling it to sell advertising to others. And if you can generate enough buzz that the story gets picked up by mainstream media, the rewards that you reap are many millions of times what you would expect to get for the same costs expended in traditional advertising.

It’s even become entirely normal for advertisers to try out their advertising ideas for mass-market campaigns using “vectors” such as YouTube (which became really interesting during the last couple of election campaigns here in Australia when the major parties started doing so). At the same time, advertisers were trying to get traction with the viewing audience through traditional media by trying to make their ads look more like content, at least here in Australia. I’ve no doubt the same trend was experienced world-wide.

Unsurprisingly, a lot of agencies geared to producing traditional advertising absolutely sucked at producing anything that really looked like independent news; we were obviously seeing advertising, and the efforts to circumvent cynicism only drove it to new heights for a lot of people. So, as soon as social media platforms became businesses funded by advertising revenue, it became inevitable that they would make the leap from content distribution to content creation, setting up in-house advertising departments. If anyone knew how to create and package something that would appeal to their audience, they did.

From this perspective, all that’s really happened is that agencies have become much better at making advertising watchable/readable. Remember that the goal of native advertising is to provide and publish an advertisement that is indistinguishable from the content surrounding it – and the publishing institution sets the standard for that content. If they publish rubbish, the advertiser can publish rubbish. If they publish impartial and factual information, that’s the standard that the advertising has to reach as well.

What Native Advertising amounts to, ideally, is product placement in news sites.

Content being paid for by advertising is not new

It’s been the case for over a century that advertising revenues are what fund newspapers. Subscriptions have been a secondary revenue stream for quite a long time, now. The problem that established news organizations have is that the advertising revenue is drying up. It was always possible to publish a newspaper that was fully-funded by advertising, but for three big reasons, this didn’t happen:

  1. Subscription Revenues were the traditional base, and provided a bottom line that was always there, where advertising could be fickle at times;
  2. Independence and Authority are attributed to information that we pay for; and
  3. maintaining the fiction that subscription revenues paid for the newspaper enabled the news outlet to assume a position of editorial authority over the advertising, in other words to pretend that they were independent of the advertisers.

Journalistic Ethics are all predicated on the theory that news production – content – is independent, and can be held to a higher standard. Every movie or story about breaches of journalistic ethics all center on the compromising of that standard in favor of some vested interest, whether that be an advertiser, a business that is also owned by the owner of the newspaper, or politically motivated.

But, in reality, this is a polite fiction and has been for a very long time. As soon as individuals became wealthy enough to both own (or co-own) a newspaper and another business, independence of the news was compromised.

The Net Effect: Direct Connection

So what is the actual effect of Native Advertising? The reality is that it weakens that fictional distance, and requires advertising to rise to the standards of the remainder of the journalism being published. It removes that fictional bulkhead between advertiser and publisher and acknowledges the reality for all to see – provided that the journalistic standards are upheld.

The Ethical Jungle?

But that’s a big proviso, and always has been. Businesses the world over since the second world war, and since the 1960s and 70s in particular, have been focused on short-term profits rather than building for the long term, and so have governments. That’s the reason our cities have crumbling infrastructure. The conflict between a media outlet publishing something critical of a particular organization or not doing so because they advertise in the outlet has always been a conflict between the short-term (keeping the advertiser happy) and the long-term good of society (impartial and unbiased reporting of the true story).

In this brave new world, that’s not so very different from the old, will publishers be less inclined to impartiality?

Controversy and sensationalism makes for good viewing and good reading, and unless its lethal to the target, produces nothing more than a blip on the profit-and-loss sheet. The only exception is (sometimes) when a company is accused of activity that the social zeitgeist of the time has deemed unacceptable. Many companies who successfully spin corporate mistakes emerge stronger than they were before; the key is to be seen to act to correct whatever the problem was.

So I don’t think they will be – most of the time. And on those few exceptions, where a mismanaged company or political office really could go under as a result of a bad story – think Enron & Watergate, respectively – a diversity of advertisers insulates the publisher of the content to a large enough extent that they have the choice of sacrificing their credibility or telling the story. If the business affected is part-owner of the media organization, they may even make enough through additional sales/clicks of the story to compensate for the brief diminution of share price.

There is, in fact, a counterforce trying to manufacture controversy for the media attention that it brings. “Company in crisis” makes for a great news cycle – if it’s followed, a day or two later, by “Company saved” or “Company solves problem”.

So the ethical landscape may have become a little more tangled, a little more complicated, but by no means has the ethical battle for independence of media been lost. The real enemy of independence of media are plutocrats with dominance over a large segment of the populace – Citizen Kane in the guise of Rupert Murdoch – because that subtracts from that “diversity of advertisers”.

Campaign Mastery & Native Advertising

Long before there was a name for it, I’ve been employing Native Advertising here at Campaign Mastery. Some of the articles that have been posted here have been paid for, either by gifts of review copies or direct funding to my bank account. But I don’t have a problem with that, and neither should you, because the editorial requirement is that each of these articles is as useful and relevant to the readers and site objectives as anything else that gets published here. In other words, it has to be a good article first, and a sponsorship platform second.

When I accept a product for review, I make it clear that it will be an honest review, with no sugar-coating. And it’s the policy here to state outright if we were given a free copy to review, so that if there is any bias that results, our readers can take that into account. Our < href="" target="_blank">Policies page puts it plainly and simply – if there’s a link to a service or product or website in an article, readers should assume that there might be a vested interest. And if I write something that someone disagrees with, I’m more than happy to offer them an opportunity to rebut, either as a comment, as an addendum to the original article, or in a new article.

Nevertheless, everything I’ve ever said about a site that I’ve linked to, or the content of that site, has always been 100% genuine. There’s been no distortion, and I’ve even refused some offers because I wasn’t certain that Campaign Mastery could stand behind the product being offered – the last occasion was just a couple of weeks ago (and no, I’m not going to name names). I’ve also never accepted any offers of ‘ready made’ articles provided by sponsors – and there have been quite a few such offers over the years – because I was not convinced that the article would be of value to the readers.

In a nutshell, Native Advertising has never been a problem here because I (and Johnn, back when he was part of the operation) were always aware that what we were offering up was our credibility. The rule of thumb has always been “would I be happy reading this if this were not my website?”

The Potential Negatives

Yes, there are potential negatives to Native Advertising. I can’t escape thinking about various advertising campaigns over the years that have fabricated laboratory testing results, or even entire institutions, to give their claims credibility. Fortunately, we have a history of penetrating consumer affairs television here in Australia that delights in exposing such nonsense. Everything from health foods to dietary supplements to insurance fine print to toothpaste to shampoos to … well, you get the point – starting back in 1984 with a series called The Investigators, which was so successful that it was pinched by one of the commercial networks.

Currently there are three shows that dominate the subject matter in Australia: Media Watch (who inspired this article), Gruen Planet, and, especially, The Checkout (the links are to the Wikipedia pages for these shows, for those who may be interested, here are links to the shows’ respective home pages:

A potential erosion of standards and a further erosion of editorial independence are the obvious dangers. Increasing cynicism on the part of the public is inevitable, regardless – the genie is out of the bottle – and that will have its own social impact. If the quality of journalism is compromised downwards to meet the advertorial target, that’s a problem. Centralization of power over media content is a huge problem, and by directly linking advertisers and content, could become even worse. Potential exposure to opportunities for corruption on the part of journalists will increase. Members of the public with a story to tell or a whistle to blow may be less inclined to take it to the mainstream media, and that would be a definite negative. And a trend towards sensationalist journalism, “balanced” by fluff journalism (21 cute puppy pictures, 20 celebrities who have lost weight) is another potential problem.

The Potential Positives

But there are potential positives, too. Diversity of sources can mean diversity of opinions. Funding of genuinely independent journalism can be strengthened. The quality of advertising, to the point where it is worth paying attention to, would be a massive benefit.

There’s always going to be someone who will do the wrong thing, given the opportunity to do it and get away with it. So long as journalists have the funding to uncover those wrongdoings and the editorial permission to tell others about it, journalistic integrity is secure.

The Cynical Assumption

I always consider the possibility that any positive story about someone or something is the result of advertising, and needs to be taken with a grain of salt. When I read a buyer’s review on Amazon, I always assume that – at best – their tastes and mine might be different, and at worst, they may be biased (either for or against). Such reviews inform my decision to buy or not to buy, they don’t make that decision.

I also consider the other side of the coin when I read something with a negative slant. I want information; I can’t trust an opinion unless I know and respect the provider of that opinion. Information, however, lets me make up my own mind.

And that’s the thing that makes those advertisements dressed up as TV ads obvious: They promise information and then provide opinion. That broken promise immediately triggers my cynicism, and I therefore immediately discount the opinions and become prejudiced against the product in question.

The Ethical Blueprint

The one thing that separates the possible positive outcomes from the possible negative ones is having a strong ethical blueprint. And there are five simple parts to achieving the positive and avoiding the negative. These are things that the content publishers have to provide;

Editorial Policies in black and white

Media sources need an editorial policy that’s spelt out in black and white for all the world to see, and you need to ensure that all content, regardless of its source, is subject to that policy. That’s why I published “The Ethical Reviewer” way back in February 2012. In terms of this discussion, you might find the section “The ethics of paid articles” (near the end) to be especially relevant.

More Than Mere Words

Media outlets need to have that policy be more than promises and hot air – they need to be willing and able to back it up. That means that a clause needs to be in the agreement for the publishing of externally-sourced or -funded stories that requires the content to adhere to the editorial policy and permits the removal or redaction of content that doesn’t measure up. Furthermore, you have to have full editorial control over the content. What you are defending with these policies is your credibility. You don’t want to sell it – but you might be willing to lend it out if the content merits it.

Biting The Hand

There will be times when honesty compels you to bite the hand that feeds. If something is rubbish, a media outlet has to be willing and able to say so. If a bank is ripping off their customers, you have to be able to tell the story. And you have to make that policy clear to the content providers whose material you are publishing or disseminating. The far more difficult question to answer is whether or not you should continue to accept advertising or sponsored content from that source after you have publicly castigated them; to my mind, that depends on exactly what they have done wrong, and what they are actually doing to correct the problem (not just talking about doing something to fix the problem). A mea culpa is not enough.

I would love to see confidentiality agreements in settlements and verdicts outlawed. I don’t think it will ever happen. Forcing businesses to admit publicly to wrongdoings and mistakes, and putting some sort of scale on those mistakes, can only force companies to try and find an option to put a positive spin on the settlement. Challenging a verdict becomes more expensive than being seen to do the right thing – unless you are absolutely convinced that you did nothing wrong, and not just in the legal or regulatory sense. If you do something wrong, try to fix it – not cover it up. If you have subordinates, it’s your responsibility to make sure that they are doing the right thing.

And anyone submitting a paid-for or sponsored article – or even a product for review – has to accept that the media outlet reserves the right to be critical of them or their products, if warranted. Explicitly.


Rivalries are rife in business. Any article that is critical of a product, institution, or service must be insulated from any claim that it is even slightly jaundiced because of such a rivalry. When a media outlet accepts an article, they have to be especially wary of this, even by inference.

Disclaimers and attribution within the article are not necessarily enough, but they are a start.

Verifiable Facts

News is about providing verifiable facts. If an article is an example of Native Advertising, any claims that it makes have to be backed up with Verifiable Facts provided to the publisher, and which the publisher is free to utilize as they see fit. You can say anything you are legally-permitted to say in an obvious advert; Native Advertising has to be held to a higher standard. In fact, it has to be held to the same ethical and journalistic standards as the rest of the content.

The Impact on RPGs & Fiction

Okay, so we’ve dealt with the social commentary regarding this not-so-new phenomenon, at least for the most part. If anyone is reading this for my real-world opinions on the subject, you can skip this section and the next, if you want.

Conflicts of journalistic ethics always make for a good, dramatic, story. Exposure of social propaganda or criminal activity, regardless of the source, is always a compelling narrative – when presented the right way. Whistle-blowing will always generate headlines. Native Advertising, in terms of telling adventure stories in an RPG or story, is simply another element that has to be taken into account, or may be the direct cause of the conflict, another window into the story.

If describing the Native Advertising impact is absent, it will noticeably detract from the verisimilitude of the story. A lot of such fiction is all about assuming the worst case, and pitting some individuals against those responsible in a quest to reveal the truth; that won’t change. The violation of ethics in journalism, or the misleading of the public, factor into a huge number of plotlines. This exploration of the perils, pitfalls, and possibilities of Native Advertising have given the writer/GM all he needs to integrate the phenomenon into his plotlines.

The Impact on the Gaming Industry?

When I was developing the background to my Zenith-3 campaign, I thought about sending letters to some of the major corporations, asking where they see their company and their products in fifty years time. What pie-in-the-sky projects do they have tucked away that might come to fruition – never mind the functional technicalities, I don’t need those, I can fictionalize them. I didn’t do so because (1) I couldn’t afford it at the time, and (2) I was unsure of how many responses I would get.

Native Advertising within a near-future RPG could be the answer. Get Toyota or Ford to provide a vision of the future, and put it in the section on transport. Get Panasonic or LG or Sony to write about the future of consumer electronics. Include their content, and maybe some pretty pictures, and help to fund the product.

A fantasy RPG is a trickier proposition, but even there, it could be done. Organic Foods. Energy Drinks. Pharmaceuticals. Hardware suppliers. Tool manufacturers. Remember, too, the proposition that “any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from Magic” – so talk to those high-tech firms about the future, strip away the how-it-will-work and wrap some fantasy trappings around it. Want to create a new take on a hive mind? Talk to a manufacturer of computer network devices like Cisco about autonomous devices controlled by a network.

Sooner or later, it might just happen. The more mainstream acceptance of RPGs there is, the less unwilling corporate entities will be. And think of the cross-promotional potential. “The car of your fantasies”. “The Thirst Of Adventure”. Getting those companies to promote their involvement promotes your product at the same time.

Is it selling out? Maybe. I don’t think so. Would the legal complications be so extreme as to prevent it from ever happening? Maybe. Possibly even probably. Do I think someone will try it, anyway? Definitely.

The Impact on all of us?

Native Advertising could be beneficial, or it could be a disaster. Or it could be somewhere in between, with elements of both. There’s not all that much that is new about the concept, when you get right down to it. Will there be a few trainwrecks along the way? Sure. But there will also be some genuinely uplifting social benefits from time to time.

The Media Watch episode makes a point that “young people don’t seem to mind”. Despite a cliché that suggests that older people are more inclined to be cynical and world-weary, I think the younger generation are actually more prone to apply cynicism to everything they see – and don’t care. If someone’s going to be taking advantage of you anyway, you may as well be entertained in the meantime.

Or maybe I’m just being too cynical.

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Dream A Little Dream – using Dreams in RPGs

Moon and cloud

There are lots of things that the GM can do with dreams in an RPG. Trivially, he can use his own dreams as inspiration, but that’s not what I’m talking about in this article. No, this time I’m going to discuss all the things that a GM can do with a Character’s dreams.

Probably the most important things to note about dreams is that they derive directly from the characters, and that they don’t have to make sense. Compress time, Distort space, Exaggerate dimensions, Use metaphors like they had been bought in bulk. Turn molehills into mountains and mountains in Mount Olympus. Character abilities can be totally unrealistic one minute and completely forgotten the next. Check the lyrics of “Lucy in the sky with diamonds” – it’s a roadmap of what’s possible in dreams.

Tales Of Reality

I’ve divided the functions that dreams can provide to a GM into two categories. The first is all about the GM shedding light on things that have really happened within the campaign.

Alternative Explanations

Players can easily add two and two together and get five. The PCs have their pet theory about why and how something has happened, and are about to commit to action based on that theory. Rather than the GM coming out and telling them “there’s something you’ve overlooked”, he can let them go about their business and slip the alternative explanation into a dream that one of the characters has. Or even divide it into parts and give a number of PCs the different parts.

When the players can afford to lose a day or three chasing down the wrong avenue without the villains gaining total victory, this is often preferable. It lets the PCs discover their error at something approaching the eleventh hour (assuming they heed the GMs warnings), raising the drama and tension of the plotline. Only if the action the PCs were about to commit themselves to would be irrevocable would I resort to INT checks with the winner being told outright, “there’s a possibility that you may have overlooked…”. This, of course, constitutes their first and last warning; if they choose not to listen to it, the shape of the campaign changes, and I start looking for an adventure idea that shows the consequences of their mistake, then another on how they can start to undo it.

Things that have been overlooked

In a busy campaign, sometimes plot threads can be forgotten. There are times when that’s desirable, and when I go out of my way to try and pose a series of distractions to the players, making the assumption that if the player doesn’t remember it, neither does the character. But there are times when I don’t want a plot thread to be forgotten because it is going to tie back into the current situation at some future point. Dreams are a great way of reminding players of things they may be overlooking in their current analysis of events.

Things (that should be) on their minds

There’s no rule that I know of that says a GM should not help a player to play his character. When players choose expediency over a priority that I feel should be important to the character, a dream sequence can be a great way to warn the player that his character has, or should have, something else on their mind. Use symbolism and metaphor and rephrase aspects of the situation as often as you can. Incorporating some of the preceding day’s events is a useful technique for implying that the issue is nagging at the PC’s subconscious, and not simply repeating the same bottled message over and over again.

This technique also works well when the player simply ignores some plot development that the character, as described by the campaign background, his personal history, and the player, should be paying attention to.

The way it might have happened

A dream can be a great way to slip information into the players hands when there is no other way they could possibly get it. When I do this, I often like to present a second, false, explanation in another character’s dream, or mix and match parts of the two stories. This represents the characters’ minds struggling to put together an explanation for the way things might have happened.

In some campaigns, and where the events are especially significant, I might assume a limited form of psychometry – the event was so terrible or so important that the land itself remembers what happened and whispers the story to the PCs in their dreams. If this is happening, I will usually signal it to the players by having several of them share the same dream (though they will have to figure out for themselves that it was the same dream) – I will describe the dream sequence in notes simultaneously delivered to each of the players, or give part of the dream to one player and the next part to another (and not necessarily in chronological order). This takes what would otherwise be narration by the GM and renders it interactive, and a source of roleplay the next morning.

h5>The Way Things Used To Be
It can be useful at times to use a dream to highlight and contrast the current situation or location encountered by the PCs with the way things used to be. Coming across a ruined castle in a desolate wasteland? Fine, a great setting for a small adventure! This is a way of slipping background information to the players that avoids large chunks of dry exposition by presenting a more dynamic vision. It should be long on tone and mood and general imagery and pageantry and short on significant events and dialogue; the point is to show what things used to be like, not how they became the way they are. This immediately sets up the mystery of how things went from A to B, which can unify otherwise disconnected and disjointed encounters. Nor is it necessary to be all that accurate – this is the character’s imagination conjuring up scenes.

Where there is a risk of players assuming that this is the way things actually were, I will slip a few obvious discrepancies into the dream sequence. Putting towns on the wrong side of a moat (or having the moat surround the town rather than the castle), making all the trees semi-tropical instead of what should have been in the climate presented, and so on.

This danger is especially high when one character dreams of the way things were, while another’s imagination conjures up scenes of the destruction. Make the two dreams deliberately incompatible, or overtly impossible, to stress that they should not be taken literally. And remember, dreams don’t have to make sense!

Tap-dancing in a minefield

Another way that I employ dreams in my campaigns is to warn players of the (possibly unnecessary) dangers that their current course of action entails. I simply pick one of the ways in which their plans could go horribly wrong (if possible, one that’s different from the one that I have in mind) and present it in glorious 3D to the character’s mind’s eye.

I will frequently go heavy on the metaphor and symbolism in part of the dream sequence and prosaic in another, when this is the message that is to be conveyed. “You are all dancing a complicated waltz with (the enemy and his minions). The villains disperse into wifts of smoke, but the dance continues, and you find yourself in a circle with the other PCs facing each other’s backs. The dance steps are very difficult to remember and you keep getting them just a little bit wrong; they seem to be having the same difficulty. Your hands, as required by the dance, alternatively stretch out to the sides, reach forward to touch the back of the person in front of you, raise up high into the air as your hand swivels about its wrist, or drops to your side to clutch the hilt of your weapon. As the music reaches a crescendo, your hand drops and grasps the hilt, but this time you draw it from its sheath and in the final move of the dance, you plunge it into the back of the comrade directly in front of you, as they do the same. You look down at the blade projecting from your chest, and observe the spurt of blood before you all collapse, the dance at an end. As the world begins to darken and your life ebbs away in pools of radiant red, you notice the orchestra who have led this dance – it is you and the other PCs, and they too have collapsed over their instruments above swelling pools of blood.” At which point you awaken from the nightmare with a half-strangled gasp, sweating profusely. – so the enemies the PCs are pursuing or plotting against are will-o-the-wisps and the PCs are responsible for each other’s demise, their own worst enemies. The next night, it might be combat with the enemies, who – as the final thrust is made – fade away to be revealed as another party member. And as many other variations as I can think of, on subsequent nights, until the players get the message.

The Nagging Conscience

Players will sometimes have their characters do something or permit something that – according to the background and makeup of the character – they should not. Even though the character may get away with this at the time, I will often revisit the event through dream metaphors until the character does something to assuage their conscience. This is actually the first application of dreams that I employed, and used to be a warning to a character that they were treading dangerously close to an alignment shift.

Who’s afraid of the Big Bad Wolf?

The subconscious can often put clues together that have not even been consciously noticed by the individual. When I adjudge that the characters may have seen enough activity on the part of an enemy for this effect to be a factor, I will sometimes drop some additional hints as to his nature and activities in the form of dreams/nightmares. Not necessarily accurate, almost certainly distorted and incomplete, but these clues can nevertheless provide a structural skeleton for the assembly of a more robust profile of the enemy. This can be a great way to shortcut the discovery process, the ‘getting-to-know-you’ phase of the conflict and accelerate the plotline.

Nightmare scenarios

Nightmare scenarios are a great way to explicitly describe the stakes that are on the table in an adventure, especially if the characters don’t seem to recognize the seriousness of the dominoes that the GM has lined up. These take the worst-case outcome, inflate it to melodramatic proportions, personalizes it to the character, then feeds it to him. Done properly, it can make the players utterly paranoid about failure, almost paralyzed with uncertainty and yet driven by the immediate need to take dramatic action.

Urgency and dramatic action always make for an exciting game session, don’t you agree?

But there is a warning to be sounded: more than any other type of dream application, this can turn around and bite the GM, hard. If the prospective outcome of failure turns out to be radically less than the nightmares would have it, players can downgrade the importance of not only this application of dreams but all applications. Once they stop trusting the information being presented to them, the whole campaign can be adversely affected, because it will then begin to spill out into other areas of the GM-players relationship. Radical action on the part of the GM can salvage the situation by inflating the actual consequences beyond what even the antagonists were expecting, and making sure that the players learn of these additional consequences, but sometimes these are too obviously tacked-on afterthoughts, or don’t come to light in time.

The surest sign of this problem manifesting is when the players begin to express the dream sequences in terms of the GM attempting to railroad the campaign or the plotline. So watch for that! You want to guide, shape, manipulate, and inform – not dictate. At least, not most of the time – there are a couple of limited exceptions to that general rule that I will address in due course.

The inner struggles

Finally, when the character has, or should have, something on their minds – an impending decision of some seriousness – having nightmares about indecision or wrong choices can and should reflect the gravity of the stress the character is supposed to be under. Once you have established this principle a few times, this can then also be used to inform characters that an impending decision that seemed trivial might have deeper ramifications that they aren’t appreciating – in other words, using the dream sequence as a vehicle for GM hints.

Psychic Communications

The other way of using dreams is to give the characters information that they could not possibly obtain (in time) by their own devices.

Beyond their ken

For example, the characters might experience events from far beyond, either contemporary with them or from the past. If you need some sort of flimsy logic on which to hang such dreams, the concept of psychometry provides it – the events being experienced all occurred in the same multiverse/cosmic structure as the one the characters reside in, and so the characters were able to pick up the ‘emotional resonances’ of the events.

Alternatively, some witness may have found a way to ‘broadcast’ the events as a warning to whoever was capable of receiving it.

Cries for help

Which brings us to an application of dream messaging that is an obvious progression from the previous one – someone dropping a dime on the PCs in the middle of their dreams. I normally like to start this sort of dream sequence with something more normal and prosaic in nature – a normal dream with no particularly significant content – and have the “invasive” dream sequence “infuse” this normality bit-by-bit.

Message in a bottle

A variation on the cry for help is the “message in a bottle”. Because the implication is that this dream content is packaged and bundled as a unit, it normally comes on all at once, radically reshaping every element of an existing dream at the same time. I also find it useful to include some metaphor for entering a different world – being pulled beneath the surface of the water, passing through a curtain, entering a tent, or something along those lines. Alternatively, something that metaphorically (or literally) depicts the opening of a bottle or container and the new dream surging out – or even the bottle/container opening itself no matter what the character attempts to try and keep it in place, signifying that the character is helpless to avoid the message. What they then do about it is another question.

And that’s an important consideration for both this and the preceding dream communication – there should (eventually) be something clear that the character can do, or is supposed to do, about the situation. This may or may not be stated explicitly – my general preference is to leave the characters with more decision room, but there are times when the action required is just the first step with many to follow offering the character the chance to change direction, so it becomes more important to actually put their feet on the path to the adventure than it does to give them the choice to step off it just yet.

Instructions from Beyond

Gods are busy people, and would have all manner of workarounds for the problem of “Cant Be Everywhere”. One of those workarounds is almost certainly going to be speaking to their followers (or other people of significance) in their dreams. When this type of dream is underway, it is important to demonstrate that the deity/being responsible has total control over the dreamscape. Within the dream, the character should be a rag doll – the implication that the being responsible is conveying as a subtext is that he, she, or it would have no trouble doing the same in real life. That subtext might be accurate, or nothing more than intensive P.R. – that’s up to the GM and his world/campaign design. Whoever’s giving the orders not only wants to be obeyed but expects to be obeyed, and without hesitation.

In the cold light of morning, of course, the players may have entirely different ideas. I use this as often to have the villains threaten the PCs as I do to have their nominal superiors issue instruction and advice, in the full expectation that the players will turn around after the dream and tell each other “He’s nervous about us.”

There’s a lot more that needs to be said on the subject of obedience to dreams, and the implications of this type of dream. Firstly, whoever is doing this is smart enough to realize that the players may choose to disobey, and would plan accordingly (unless this level of arrogance was a deliberately-placed blind spot in the NPCs personality). Secondly, anonymity may be a thing of the past – or the dream may have been targeted without knowing who was going to be at the receiving end. Thirdly, there is the implication that if the Gods (or whoever) really is this powerful, the problems and enemies that they face must be equally dangerous – which might just be the only message that the GM is trying to convey with the dream. Finally, by softening the notion of “giving orders”, this permits these celestial beings to interact on a social level with the PCs in a way that could never really happen during “awake time”.

During the first Fumanor campaign, all sorts of beings were vying for the position of the Last Deity. Hastor, one of the more subtle contenders, strove to persuade the characters by being sociable during their dreams – and systematically pointing out, one after another, why his fellows could not be trusted with the position. These chats, in Hastor’s great Banquet Hall of dreams, proved vitally informative to the PCs, giving them information that could not be obtained any other way about the prospective contenders. In fact, Hastor was their leading candidate for a very long time as a result – only when the PCs discovered that they had a means of altering one aspect of the other contenders to make them “suitable” did Arioch come forward. Before that discovery, he was in last place amongst those who had declared their interest. In effect, Hastor’s attempted manipulations told them exactly what needed to be changed about each of the contenders, producing a whole different card game at the climax of that campaign.

Temptations from the Other Team

I’ve preempted discussion of this possible application in the previous section, I’m afraid. Dreams offer an ideal way for really powerful enemies, who are so inclined, to try to buy the PCs off. This should take the form of one of those dreams in which each PC seems to have everything he could possibly want – wealth, comfort, luxury, pleasant company, companionship, knowledge, power, respect, authority, fame. And, at the peak of the dream, the voiceover announces, “and all this can be yours, All you have to do is…”

The smaller and less apparently-significant that required deed is, the more tempting the offer is. “I don’t want your soul; I’m overcrowded here as it is. Just do me one small favor…”

Practical Considerations

Having established the great many things that dreams can be useful in conveying to the characters and hence the players, a few words on how you go about reaping these potential benefits are clearly in order. I have more than ten points to address under this heading, so let’s get started:

The Realm of Dreams

The place to start is the realm of dreams itself. Does it have some objective reality? What are the ground rules? Can anyone access it? Or is it a place that it uniquely private, a virtual world conjured by the activities within our minds? What are the value of dreams, anyway? Are they necessary for human psychological balance? Are there different classifications into which dream intensities can be categorized?

Most people have many dreams in a single night’s sleep, but rarely remember them. Of those who do remember their dreams, we rarely remember more than one in a single sleep period, presumably the last one to be experienced.

There are many unexplained and unproven phenomena associated with dreams – everything from Prophetic Visions to Levitation to remote communication. In terms of the game, I don’t care about the restrictions and parameters of the real-world dreamscape, if any can even be said to exist. The GM is creating a game world, and any resemblance to reality is either a happy coincidence or a convenient shortcut – a bit like mathematics, really. The GM therefore sets the ground rules for the dream reality within his game, what can happen there, and what can’t. It’s also within his purview to change those ground rules any time he sees fit – even in the middle of a character’s dream, if desirable.

Such decisions should always be an informed choice, and that requires the GM to at least have thought about the question in the first place.

What’s The Message?

It’s very easy to get carried away with dream symbology and creating the sense of unreality necessary for the player to distinguish between dream-sequence and actual events. The GM should always keep in mind the message that he is trying to convey to the player through the dream sequence, and make sure that it is not obscured. In fact, it should be the first thing that gets decided.

Matching personality to dreams

When I employ dream sequences within my games, I work very hard at matching the dream content to the personality, interests, and concerns of the character supposedly having the dream. Whatever the content may be, the character’s personality will dictate what elements of the dream are detailed and which are mutable or vague. I want the player to be convinced that this is something that the character might dream under the circumstances. This ensures that there is a noticeably different quality to those dreams that are “injected” from another source. It’s a subtle point, but one that can make a big difference to how the dream is perceived and acted upon by the player.

But I don’t sleep!

In many versions of D&D, Elves don’t sleep. There may be other races with the same trait. The first time you lay a dream sequence on such a character, nine times out of ten, you will get the response “But [Race X] don’t sleep!”

Every species has some form of sleep-substitute, usually meditation of some sort. This state of altered consciousness is exactly the same as sleep for our purposes, and is just as capable of carrying visions, dreams, and nightmares. But you can expect to have to explain this to the player.


Some dreams are presented as blocks of text, with the character’s actions and reactions within the dream specified by the GM. On other occasions, the GM may permit the character to interact with events inside the dream and make decisions about the dream-character’s actions. When you decide to permit an interactive dream, it’s important to remember that the results and effects will usually bear no relationship with any objective reality. In never – well, very rarely – permit the rolling of dice within a dream, it completely breaks the mood and blurs the lines between game reality and dream sequence.

It is when you permit interactions that it becomes especially important to have worked out the “rules and parameters” of the dream environment. I always envisage the dream sequences as occupying a Warner-Brothers-Cartoon reality. Gravity works except when its inconvenient to the GM. Common Sense gets left in the parking lot. Characters can parade around with swords sticking out of them without noticing, or without being bothered. Colors of things that don’t matter are muted, while the colors of the things that matter are unusually bright. Logic takes a back seat to plot, symbolism and metaphor. Landscapes rearrange themselves at will. Clouds can be made of eggs that crack open when they are struck hard enough. Things can and should get outright strange – think Twin Peaks at it’s most bizarre.

And that’s all the way it should be. There are some dreams where you feel in control of yourself, and others in which you are a helpless puppet – and that’s before we even get into ‘introduced’ dreams from an external source.

Laying it on too thick

I’ve said this before, but it’s so important that I’m going to come at the same message from a different angle: If you obscure your message to the point of impenetrability through too many layers of symbolism, metaphor, and weirdness, it will not be understood by its intended audience – and you may as well not have the dream sequence.

It’s almost as though that message should be the one thing that remains in crystal-clear focus throughout the experience, the rock of consistency that provides the backbone to the rest of events.

The Weirdness file

Some GMs might have trouble coming up with surreal imagery to drop into their dream sequences; I do, sometimes (other times it seems to come easily). As a crutch to lean on when creativity is a little thin on the ground, I maintain a file of surreal imagery – actually, a folder and a file, with both verbal and visual descriptions. Anything weird that I come across that seems to have something about it gets parked in that file. It might be something abstract, a particularly interesting way of subtitling a graphic, an unusual juxtapisitioning of different visual or narrative elements, whatever.

Before I started building up The Weirdness File, I used another technique that I still resort to occasionally. Pick three books at random, and open each of them to a random page, laying them beside each other. Reading one printed line from each book in succession as though the text ran across all six opened pages produces a nigh-on-infinite number of strange juxtapositions of visuals and ideas. Most of these will be nonsense, to be thrown away immediately, but a few will contain little gems.

Once you have two or three ideas, you will find yourself in the right frame of mind to carry the dream sequence to its conclusion without further stimulus. It’s getting into that mindset in the first place that’s the tricky part – and, once you’ve finished, getting back out of it!

A couple of other tips: I have the primary message that I want the dream sequence to convey written before I start; I do that at the same time as writing the rest of the adventure. I do the dream sequences completely separately whenever possible, to ease the problems of slipping in and out of metaphysical frame of mind. If I find that I need to do the dream sequence in sequence or am so inspired that I simply can’t resist doing so, I make sure that I take a break of a few minutes and read or watch something to reset my headspace.

Dream Interpretation

There are a lot of books out there on both historical superstition and modern theory regarding the interpretation of dreams. Don’t use any of it.

It’s all esoteric mumbo-jumbo so far as your audience – the players – are concerned. If you rely on these sources to translate your message into “dreamspeak” they will always miss the point.

The whole foundation of using dreams in any of the ways discussed in this article is that sometimes dreams represent an objective reality that follows the same basic ground rules as the rest of the character’s existence – but that is being perceived through a mind-bending hallucinogenic haze. So ditch the books on dreams and dream-meanings; craft your message as straightforward narrative, then cloak it in symbology and metaphors that the players will recognize – eventually. Then powder-coat with weirdness.

Dream Interpretation II

What do you do if, after all your efforts, the players dismiss the significance of the dream or are unable to interpret what you have presented to them?

The first is a much easier problem to solve, so I’ll deal with it in this section and leave the second problem for the next.

  • Before the important dream sequence, I make sure that I have already established the significance of dreams, by using a dream sequence in a preceding adventure.
  • At the start of that preceding adventure, I’ll make sure that the PCs hear someone talking about “The meaning and significance of dreams” – it could be a snippet of a talk show, or someone they meet on the street, or something said in casual conversation, or whatever. The key point is to make sure that the players have been told that sometimes, dreams are important.
  • Next comes the dream sequence in the preceding adventure. I will sometimes put this into the ‘hands’ of an NPC so that I can be sure that the character will talk about the dream and its content to the PCs, and sometimes not.
  • This is followed by the events of the adventure to which this initial dream sequence relates. Throughout this series of events, I will keep referring back to the content of the dream, as described to the players. In-game events get explained by clues in the dream, or explain something that was obscure within the dream. By the end of the adventure, I will have established two things: The significance that dreams will sometimes play; and a code-phrase that I will consistently use to signal the difference between important dreams and any others that might come along. The phrase that I use is normally “unusually vivid”, though sometimes “unusual” may be enough.

Repeat this process a time or two and you will quickly inform the players that dreams are important channels of information.

I have also tried the approach of supplying the key clue to a mystery confronting the PCs within a dream, and found that while this hints at the importance of dreams, it doesn’t emphasize the point enough.

A more successful technique has proven to be the shared dream – if five PCs have exactly the same dream, or each get part of a connected narrative, or dream of the same events from different perspectives, they will soon come to realize that it holds some significance, and hence, so potentially do ALL dreams described by the GM.

I rarely have to resort to such overt techniques any more. I have established these principles in several campaigns with players in common to each, so they know that part of my GMing style is to occasionally use the dream sequence when that is the tool that will best serve the needs of the plot.

Dream Interpretation III

Sometimes, especially if you’ve laid the distortions and metaphors on too thickly, the players simply can’t figure out what the dream was trying to tell them, or they will make an incorrect assumption about the meaning and hammer the dream narrative to fit. This is where the whole dream sequence tends to come unstuck.

If their misinterpreted version is not toxic to the plotline, I’ll let them run with it – but keep dropping hints such as “it doesn’t feel right” or “It feels like you’re making a mistake” or “It feels like you’ve missed something important”.

If their misinterpretation IS toxic to the plotline, that’s a sign of bad writing/plotting on my part, because it means the dream sequence was there to railroad the PCs into the adventure. It’s happened a time or two, you can’t learn this stuff from first principles without making a few mistakes along the way. When this happens, the ONLY answer that works is to come clean and get the pain over with. Give the players the “plain text” version of the dream and what it is supposed to mean, and give them some sort of benefit in compensation for your failure – then make sure that you wring every last drop of learning from your mistake that you can squeeze out of it.

Avoid explaining “Why” unless it’s important

Unless the dream sequence is an attempt at direct communication from a third-party within the game, dream sequences work better when the process behind them is unexplained. It’s all too easy for the players to become so distracted with the “how” that they miss the “why”, and the content that is being delivered. Let the players come up with theories to their heart’s content, but never confirm or deny it; leave that to the context of the content and of subsequent in-game events.

Make a point of the after-dream

Characters who experience a significant dream should usually be visibly affected by that dream. The other PCs should notice something a little different about the character’s demeanor or appearance the next morning. This is a cue to the player who experienced the dream to say something about the content. If they don’t take that cue, there’s nothing more that you can do about it, for now; that player is taking the responsibility for interpreting the significance all upon their own shoulders. But if they then use the clues dropped by the GM into the dream sequence to gain an advantage through an otherwise unlikely choice of action, or derive some other benefit from them, a perceptive NPC (or even a perceptive PC) might start to wonder if there was more to the dream than the character was letting on. This should be especially true when the primary goal is to establish the significance of dream sequences within the campaign because keeping the dream private at such times is directly contrary to the purpose for which the GM has inserted it into the adventure.


Like any plot or literary device, it’s easy to overuse the dream sequence, especially when you can do so many wonderful things with one. It can be very hard to recognize when you’ve gone too far. There are only two solutions to this particular problem other than waiting for someone to tell you that they think you’ve gone to that particular well too often.

The first is to make the dream sequence an integral part of the adventure structure. Every GM I know, at the end of an adventure, has an informal bull session talking about what worked and what didn’t, what was planned and what was serendipity. You can build such narrative into the adventure itself through a dream sequence. Alternatively, you can use a dream sequence at the start of every adventure to put the adventure and subsequent plot developments into context – sometimes the players will understand the dream sequence and sometimes it won’t be apparent until the end, if at all. This is the GM dropping hints about what the next adventure is going to be about, or was about (if done at the end of the adventure). This can work very well if done reliably, but it can also be very hard to do without becoming repetitive in your dream “style”. It also more-or-less mandates that you have plenty of playing time up your sleeve.

If you’re more pressed for playing time, or if there are large intervals between game sessions (more than a week), this approach just won’t cut it, and you’re left with the only alternative: once you’ve established that dreams can be important, only use them when they ARE essential. A lot of the time, you can put the key message of a dream sequence into the hands of a perceptive NPC; let them make the key observation that you want to deliver, and do it where everyone at the table can hear it.

The dream sequence can be a powerful weapon for the GM. It permits the presentation of information that the players could never get any other way, illuminate subtleties of personality, and be an in-game way for the GM to communicate directly with the PCs. But it blunts with overuse, and is very difficult to resharpen. Use it sparingly to bring the metaphysical into your campaign, and the world will feel a little more vibrant, complex, and interesting.

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The Premise Of Falsehoods – Luck Vs Skill in RPGs


There’s a debate that has been fought ever since man invented games that have an element of chance has been, “Is it better to be lucky or skilled?”

It’s a debate that has a number of unique resonances within the sphere of an RPG. How should a player or GM simulate a character who relies one or the other? How about a player – is it better for him to be lucky, or to be skillful? And how should a GM cope? What are the respective attributes of skill vs luck in a roleplaying setting – what roles do they play at a character level, at a metagame level?

The RPG Interpretations

Let’s start by thinking about what these two forces, luck and skill, mean in a roleplaying context.


A character’s luck is usually the same thing as “the player’s luck with the dice”. Some game systems incorporate a specific mechanism to separate the two with varying degrees of success; the Hero System gives the GM a capacity to override direct game mechanic results for a lucky or unlucky character, choosing an outcome that is more favorable to the character (good luck) or less favorable (bad luck). But the amount of such fortune or misfortune is Dependant on another roll – so ultimately this comes back to being another avenue of manifestation for the player’s luck.


Skills are usually manifested as the chance of successful use to achieve something, taking into account external circumstances and difficulty of task. There can be, and have been, reams of material written about the specific implications and mechanics of this confluence of randomness and target numbers, and I’m going to do my best to avoid getting sucked too deeply into that subject in this article, even though some contact with it will be unavoidable.

In other words, Skill – for a character – in an RPG is a numeric quantity assigned by the system and used to determine how much luck is required in order for the character with the skill to succeed in a task.

All the skill that’s in existence can’t (usually) manufacture success from a sufficiently bad roll, and even a complete lack of skill usually can’t prevent success if a character is especially lucky. So in a very real sense, luck is superior to skill in this context.

The anatomy of that “numeric quantity” is also of some relevance to the question. In most systems, this consists of two parts: A base value based on the character statistics that are employed in the use of the skill, and a second component that modifies that value according to two factors: the character’s education &/or training, and the character’s experience in employing the skill.

Raw Talent

This is usually what the base value from the character’s stats is interpreted as representing. Such an interpretation means that a character who is naturally suited to a task by virtue of their stats is more effective at using a skill than one who is not, for a given level of training. In 3.x/Pathfinder, when a Prestige Class lists a characteristic minimum requirement, I generally interpret that as describing a minimum level of raw talent in one or more critical skills; demonstrate that, and you qualify; don’t, and the class is a closed door to that character.

Education & Training

To the base level, characters usually get to add additional skill levels to represent their education and training in the skill in question. Some GMs also consider the character’s experience in using a skill to be a contributing factor, or a substitute for classroom training, enabling a skill to be increased in the course of play without requiring the character to attend classes. This also conveniently represents characters reading textbooks by the campfire at night (or the equivalent in a more modern campaign). Some GMs and some games actually require a player to keep track of which skills they have used in the course of an adventure and only permits those skills to be improved, or requires characters to pay more skill points to improve skills not used in play.

One of my friends and players, Ian Mackinder, used to run a Traveller campaign. In that campaign he required such tracking, but at the end of an adventure, characters could attempt another roll against skills used, and if they succeeded, the skill was improved by one, showing that they had learned something in the process. If characters fumbled or achieved a critical success in-game, they got a bonus to the “improvement roll” at the end of the adventure or an immediate improvement, depending on which incarnation of the game he was running. I think (from memory) that there was also a limit placed on the number of skills that could be improved as a result of a single adventure, but I’m no longer certain as to what that number was. And all this is being described from memory of many years ago, so I might be misrepresenting his generosity or lack thereof within the campaigns, but it still stands as an example.

The flaw in this system is that it becomes progressively easier to improve a skill, because you are more likely to make the roll. Requiring the character to fail his end-of-adventure check in order to improve would mean that it became progressively harder to improve, which might be considered more realistic.

Placing limits of any sort on improvement brings in another luck-vs-skill situation, this time at a metagame level: how to choose where to apply the potential improvements, assuming that they are limited in number. Improve a skill that you end up using a lot, and you succeed, whether the choice was & made intelligently (‘skill’) or by blind chance (‘luck’). Since luck is more fickle and unreliable, in this real-world/metagame manifestation, this is clearly one area where skill dominates luck – in the long term.

There is one other implication that deserves mention in passing: By definition, this makes the characters more capable of succeeding in the adventure they have just experienced; if the GM makes any sort of effort to make the next adventure substantially different to the one just run, there may be little immediate benefit from the improvements, unless they are a fundamental aspect of the character.

This brings into view still another luck-vs-skill aspect of gaming: If the players are lucky, the next adventure will offer them the opportunity to take advantage of their improved abilities, but if it is not (by a stroke of luck) so designed, they will need to arrange the circumstances, and make intelligent choices of action, in order to maximize the benefits acquired by the previous adventure.

Over time, a campaign will usually trend toward a certain style or end-point, and the more it does so, the more capability the PCs will acquire in the abilities that are most relevant to that conclusion. It can even be argued that by the simple virtue of playing to their strengths, players exert an influence over the style and shape of the resulting campaign. That’s food for thought, isn’t it?


Some systems declare a maximum to the level to which skills can be improved based on the character’s experience (usually, as translated into character levels). This reflects an important philosophic underpinning, implying that no amount of training can make up for a lack of actual experience, which sounds perfectly reasonable. Certainly, “armchair experts”, no matter how well educated, are generally considered to be inferior to those who have actually employed a skill “in the field”.

But there’s another, more profound, implication that is often overlooked: Expertise – “Skill” – can only carry an individual so far. Some tasks are so difficult that even being a genius in the subject is not enough; the character still needs that bit of luck, as well. And that gets very interesting, because a character with a skill of 8 is just as likely to roll a natural 18 (or a natural 3, depending on what is needed) on 3d6, as a character with a skill of 16 will. Or a 20 (or a 1) on a d20, or whatever the die roll actually is. That means that luck is an objective reality that is independent of every other factor – you either have it or you don’t – and there are any number of people who have fundamental disagreements with that philosophy in the real world (More on that a little later).

Nor are these the only ways to look at the whole issue of how best to simulate the two approaches, and the interplay between them.

Skill Unbecoming

Most rules systems place little or no restriction on how expert a character can become; where there are such restrictions, they are a blanket policy applied universally. Within those bounds, it’s entirely up to the player how his character develops, with no oversight or regard for whether or not it is reasonable for a given character to acquire a particular level of expertise.

Some systems do a somewhat better job of catering to the other side of that question – whether or not it’s reasonable for a character not to have a given level of expertise – by assuming or specifying the presence of “everyman skills”. The Hero System again springs to mind.

Given that most systems’ Skill mechanics can be described as “using skill to limit the character’s dependence on luck” – which also can be defined as “skill limiting the uncertainty of outcome” – this can become an important issue if campaigns go on for long enough. It’s a question that I’ve had to grapple with many times, and which has also cropped up in related contexts such as the impact of extremely long lives on expertise levels, discussed in one of my previous articles, The Age Of An Elf: Demographics of the long-lived.

In the house rules for my Shards Of Divinity campaign, for example, I explicitly established limits to the maximum expertise that could be acquired in certain skills until specific campaign events transpired. A certain level of expertise in Planar Knowledge can’t be exceeded until Planar travel becomes more than a theoretical capability, for example; Higher levels of expertise in Theology can’t be unlocked until certain treatises kept in secret by different churches are read, or the characters have direct experience that is the equivalent; and so on.

Sidebar: Of what use is Knowledge: The Planes?
If you look on the net, you’ll find a number of answers. According to Russell at computer science and engineering department of the University Of California (San Diego), it gives knowledge of outsiders. According to one user of, when this question was asked there in their forum, it works like Knowledge Geography for the planes. According to the SRD for 3.x, it covers knowledge of the Inner Planes, the Outer Planes, the Astral Plane, the Ethereal Plane, outsiders, elementals, and magic related to the planes.

None of these answers go far enough. I have two answers. The fist is one that I’ve never tried to use in a campaign:

Knowledge: The Planes enables a character to employ any other knowledge skill that the character may posses to gain answers about outsiders or the realms that they inhabit. The character uses the lower of the two skills to make such a knowledge check. The number of specific planes that the character can apply this ability to is equal to his total skill in Knowledge: The Planes. All other planes are at -4 for the purposes of this check. In addition, all outer planes are at -2, while the ethereal and astral planes are at +2. In addition, the skill can be used (with the modifiers stated) to determine the physical relationships of one plane to its neighbors.

If the GM can identify a valid application for a skill other than a knowledge skill, these principles also apply. For example, Perform (Music) might permit a character to recognize the musical forms popular in one of the outer planes.

In other words, if the character has Knowledge (The Planes) and Knowledge (History), then for each of the planes he nominates, he can make a check to know the history of that plane. If he doesn’t have Knowledge (History), then he can’t. Knowledge (The Planes) extends his existing knowledges to cover specific unusual locations.

The second is the one that I am going to use in my Shards Of Divinity campaign: (the players don’t know about it yet, because none of them have more then the most rudimentary knowledge of the planes: that heaven lies above the clouds, and that if you dig deep enough, you will reach Hades). Both of which may be nothing but Church Dogma. Oh, and they have visited the Feylands, the extra-planar home of the Fey, the co-existent space from which dreams and nightmares derive, discovering that one of them was a changeling, born and bred to become the new host body of the ageless spirit of the Unseely Prince…

Some Knowledge skills, esp. The Planes – are restricted.

Unless otherwise noted, until the PCs begin exploring other planes, Knowledge: The Planes has a maximum value of 4 ranks, and may only be used to determine whether or not the character knows the conventional folk wisdom on the subject as it pertains to the question at hand.

This skill confers knowledge concerning the physical and metaphysical properties of the planes, the inhabitants, the major cities, the politics, etc. For each point in Planar skill, the character may nominate one of his other skills which will then extend to cover the relevant subject within the planes with a skill modifier of -4 In order to use this skill, the character must spend at least 1 week within the plane in question or in the company of someone who has done so. After the character has spent an additional two weeks either in the plane or in the company of someone who has done so, the modifier is reduced to -2. Two further weeks of investigation eliminates the modifier.

In my Superhero campaign, I attempted to resolve this issue by increasing the cost of additional expertise as certain levels of expertise were achieved – with only limited success, I must admit. When writing the rules, my goal was to make it prohibitively expensive for a character to achieve the system maximum in any skill, and it’s in that respect the modified system has failed. It did achieve many other goals that I targeted, however, so only minor tweaks (and perhaps some simplification to make those tweaks more easily defined) are needed.

Nevertheless, in most games, and most systems, the simulation of reality is sufficiently imperfect to permit characters to achieve a degree of expertise that is unwarranted. Some have argued in the past that this doesn’t matter; in order to achieve those levels of expertise, the player creating the character has needed to divert resources (skill improvement points) from elsewhere, which can have a bigger negative impact on their prospects for success in an adventure more frequently than their heightened expertise will become a critical factor. Overspecialization leaves a character vulnerable, in other words.

To a certain extent, this is a plausible line of argument, but it falls down when a player is sufficiently skilled as to be able to rephrase or redirect circumstances to make these “skill hyper-levels” a factor more frequently than originally expected, or when the skill is something that sees a lot of function within the game, like Stealth.

From the Bottom, looking up at a mirror

Most of the examination of luck and skill in RPGs has so far focused on the chance of success, and that has provided some valuable perspectives. But what happens when considering the question from the perspective of failure? Will we learn anything new?

Well, the chance of failure at a given task decreases as skill increases, since skill is described in terms of the chance of success. So the chance of failure defines the set of possible outcomes of an action in which luck can rescue the situation, avoiding failure. In other words, the more that a character’s skill falls short of the situational requirement, the greater the scope for luck to determine the outcome.

The other side of the coin

Once again turning that on its head to look at an alternative perspective, let’s consider luck the primary factor and see how skill influences it. Obviously, whatever the die roll(s) result, it is either going to either be enough to successfully complete the task or it is not. In cases where the luck element alone is sufficient to achieve success, it doesn’t matter what your skill levels are, those are just gilding the lily. Where the luck element is insufficient, skill might be enough to shift the outcome to the point of success, avoiding an outcome of ultimate failure.

That’s a different perspective, all right. Mathematically and logically, it’s valid, but it is certainly counter-intuitive. Yet, it’s possible that a whole bunch of players think this way, at least subconsciously; this would be the most likely approach taken by “glass-half-empty” types, for example.

Aiming for success? Or aiming to avoid failure?

When the gap to be made up by skill is small, because of system mechanics, it will be easy for the two perspectives to meet, producing no discernible outcome. When the system puts a bigger gap in between – for example, in the Hero System a base skill level is 9 + (STAT/5), which produces a skill score on the same scale as the roll used to test it (3d6) – the two define a different approach to skill development.

The “avoid failure” group would establish minimum skill levels across the board in all skills that they found to be relevant. Failure in a skill check is justification for directing future improvement at that skill. In consequence, these characters (after much development) can do most things to a passable standard, but are ultimately masters of only a few – the few that have been most prominent within the campaign.

The “go for the win” group would accept that there are going to be tasks where failure can be tolerated; and that of the remainder, they don’t have to be the point-person for every skill. The demands can be spread amongst many different characters, and even augmented with NPC specialists when necessary. This enables them to focus on building up those few skills that are their share of the responsibility. Leftover skill improvements can be used to augment some general-utility skills.

GMs can run into serious trouble when they expect one philosophy to be employed and the players choose the other.

Impact on Group Relations
These two individuals have very different perspectives in terms of their need to be within a group. For the first, it’s not about how well you hit, it’s about how often – he is both more capable of going solo and yet needs the weight of numbers, and the occasional specialist, to back him up. The PC who focuses his development, in comparison, is more Dependant on others. A small group of specialists, each bringing their own expertise to the situation, produces an elite group – probably smaller in number – that can go places and do things that the larger but more generic group can’t. However (and this brings us back on theme for this article), the members of an elite group are all hostages to each other’s shortcomings. If, for any reason, their expert in X is not available – either through GM contrivance or player real-world circumstance – the remaining PCs can no longer rely on skill, and will have to trust in their luck, good or bad – and seek to minimize the consequences of their inevitable flirtations with disaster.

The differences in approach would also inevitably result in a very different flavor of campaign. The experts crash through problems (but half the problems they face are of their own making), and rely on the presence of each and every member of the group. Their fortunes can oscillate wildly as a result. The steady types don’t so much crash through problems as erode them, one piece of the puzzle at a time. No-one is indispensable, so the absence of an individual is nothing more than inconvenient.

Making the optimum choice
Number of players clearly holds a vital role in determining which of these approaches is optimal. Beyond a certain minimum, there aren’t enough experts to make up an elite force without gaps; this encourages development toward the “avoid failure” mode of character improvement, at least to the point of compromising elite capabilities somewhat. If the number of players fluctuate regularly, this also encourages such development. At the same time, there is also a maximum number of members of an elite force that can be accommodated without people stepping on each other’s toes, a problem that doesn’t matter so much when weight of numbers is the dominant PC strategy. While a larger group permits the “elite force” approach, spotlight-sharing encourages the more broad-based approach.

In most game systems, for some reason, the optimum number needed to sustain the elite-force model just happens to be somewhere close to the typical number of players – four or five; you could just about get away with three (not counting the GM, of course). What might that reason be? I suggest that playtesting encourages a trend in that direction; if such testing shows that this usual number is not enough, or is too many, that would result in negative feedback to the designers. The general principle of accommodating the “elite force” approach, however unstated, thus becomes embedded in the principles of “good game design”. But that’s getting a little off-track.

An Intuitive Play

So skill as a character can be viewed as dictating the window that luck has to operate within, as minimizing reliance on luck (and the attendant uncertainties), or as making the difference in the long term between failure and success in a string of attempted character tasks, while luck dominates the outcome of any individual attempt.

How about at the player level? Skills here include things like deductive reasoning, tactics, and so on – the things that enable a player to make the right choices of action for his character. Perhaps “right” is too strong a term – “optimum” might be more accurate – but you get the point.

Some players bring a lot of skill to the choices they make for their characters, both out-of-game (character development) and in-game (decisions). Quite often, the two go hand-in-hand, and the construction of the character will be optimized in such a way as to enable the player to make better decisions. This shows that growth in player skill with experience is not a linear relationship, but an exponential one. One of my players, Ian Gray, is a nightmare to GM at times, because he’s not only a very good player, he also puts thought and effort into not only his characters but the game overall, and not just when playing, but during the intervals in-between. Other players who can’t or won’t invest their attention so strongly and persistently always find themselves falling rapidly behind, sometimes causing friction between them. I can count the number of times I’ve genuinely managed to surprise Ian on one hand.

If Ian is the epitome of careful planning and premeditation, Stephen Tunnicliff used to be the exact opposite. As a player, he would ride his instincts, make choices because they sounded like being fun, and sometimes make silly choices – just to see what would happen. This unpredictability made him a different problem to accommodate – especially since his crazy plans would sometimes succeed, like the time he crashed two enemy jet fighters with nothing but a walky-talky (on the military band, but still)… The two made a great one-two combination in several of my campaigns, Stephen opening up unexpected opportunities and Ian exploiting them.

Ian exemplified a skill-oriented approach to the craft of being a player, while Stephen exemplified a luck-based approach. Every other player I have met has fallen somewhere in between these two extremes. They each required a different approach to adventure and campaign design; logic and consistency were all-important to Ian, while a sense of adventure and fun were necessary to keep Stephen contained (if it wasn’t there, he would make it himself, potentially derailing adventures and campaigns along the way). He was often both entertaining and frustrating at the same time.

Of course, Ian also found Stephen’s approach frustrating, to say the least, especially after his character got burned a few times by Stephen’s highjinks, and took it upon himself to “educate” him. Stephen emerged as one of the best overall players going around, as a result of this tutelage.

The Roll Of The Dice

Of course, not even Ian was immune to the depravities of luck turning sour, as I got both he and the referee concerned (the other Ian) to describe in When Good Dice Turn Bad: A Lesson In The Improbable. Some people still don’t believe this happened, but I was there, and know better!

Once again, the same pattern emerges, after a little thought and analysis. Skill makes the difference in the long run, over the course of multiple adventures, but is still not enough to obliterate the power of luck to swing an individual encounter or adventure. And the biggest differential between the two comes in the form of deliberate vs instinctive choices of action for a character.

The Wider Debate

Beyond the narrow confines of a roleplaying game there is the real world that surrounds us, where the debate over skill vs luck has been going on ever since man discovered gambling. I can imagine two Neanderthal hunters having exactly the same argument about which of them was the better hunter. “I am, because I know where the wilderbeasts go, and can track them to wherever the are today.” “No, I am, because I always find fresh meat when I hunt, without spending a lot of time looking for it.” “You’re just lucky, and one day your luck will run out.” Or something along those lines!

In the broader context, then, exactly what do we mean by “luck”?

Luck is a term used to describe events beyond the control of the individual that are either fortuitous or that present an unexpected challenge. Good Luck presents itself as better than expected outcomes or unexpected opportunities; bad luck as outcomes that are worse than expected or conditions that take away an opportunity that we thought we had.

You make your own luck?

But, if you ask most elite professionals, especially professional sportspeople, they will either tell you that there is no such thing as luck, or that you make your own luck.

If someone is offered a position with a company they have never heard of before, and for which they did not apply, is that a case of luck? It might seem so. But this is actually the outcome of years of prior effort, establishing a reputation or profile that the recipient didn’t realize that they had acquired.

I once applied for a position, which I did not get – but the general manager of the company was so impressed with my resume, attitude, references, and qualifications that he created another position on the spot for me to fill. That this particular employment experience didn’t work out well a few years later is irrelevant – I applied for the position because I thought it was within my capabilities, and I was offered the second position because of the accumulated benefit of years of prior effort. Nor was it by accident that I found the original position advertised in the first place; I was looking. It might be said that it was luck that created that original vacancy at exactly the right time for me to see it and apply, and if so, then “luck” can be simplified to “opportunity” – which is either squandered or taken advantage of.

Or take another arena that I know well, as both a fan and close observer for more than two decades, that of Formula One. Most of the teams don’t believe in luck; there is preparation, and resource management, and there are choices. The right combination of these elements relative to the other teams will create opportunities; and then it is down to skill and psychology to take full advantage of those opportunities. A component of the vehicle doesn’t fail by accident; it fails because a combination of engineering limitations, circumstances, and usage produces conditions which are beyond the capabilities of that component. “You make your own luck” is the belief firmly held up and down pit lane.

Luck as a reality

And yet, the experience in other fields seems to directly contradict this perspective, or – at the very least – it does not translate very well to some spheres of activity. Gambling is the most obvious example.

Take a card game. The systems that are in place at a casino, whether it is online or a physical reality, exist to randomize the deck of cards from which play proceeds. In some games, it is possible (if frowned upon) to employ card-counting techniques to identify patterns in an insufficiently randomized deck, or a deck which is bound by the restrictions of the cards being presented in a series from within the deck.

In other games, like poker, you cannot use such techniques. Instead, it must be presumed that over a long period of time, multiple variations on the same hands will occur (in fact, over a very long period, simply because there are so many possible combinations of hands). Much of the skill in poker variants such as Texas hold-em lies in narrowing the field of possibilities to the significant combinations (i.e. the ones that might be better than what is in the player’s hand) and assessing the likelihood of those hands having occurred, based on betting patterns and psychological reactions.

Once again, it can be considered that over the long term, skill will prevail, but on a hand-to-hand basis, luck will be the dominant factor. Where this gets interesting is that there are a limited number of hands that any given game can contain, based on each player’s chip count. Thus the game itself mandates the betting patterns that are synonymous with the two approaches: Players who ride their luck tend to be plungers, seeking to inflict decisive blows on rival chip counts that will shorten the game; while players who rely on skill tend to be far more calculated, and seek to both maximize the number of hands that they play in a game (which favors their abilities) and their return on any bets that they make, while minimizing their losses.

Or so it seems to me. But there are other viewpoints. For example, there is an interesting article at, which attempts to examine the question from a poker player’s point of view.

I love it when a site that you visit for one thing educates you about something else besides, or tells you an interesting story. Start with the story of the site owner, Shaun Middlebrooks and then, suitably prepared, check out the history of online gambling in the US (you have to scroll down a screen or so). As a bonus for my American readers, at the bottom of that page, there’s a state-by-state breakdown of the laws which also contains some interesting snippets, even to someone who doesn’t play poker online, but who is interested in politics & societies – and that’s every GM, or it should be. For example, the town of Deadwood, South Dakota, which is described as a scaled-down mirror of Las Vegas. That raises all sorts of questions in my mind – does that mean that the actual hotels are reproduced in miniature? If so, do they continually update it, as the Vegas Strip is under constant redevelopment? Or does it just mean that there is a town out there which consists of half-a-dozen reasonably major casinos and very little more? Either way, it sounds like a fun place to set an adventure!

In The Real World

So let’s have a reality check. I’ve already stated that a number of sports that are equal parts engineering and human performance, especially motor racing in all its forms, don’t believe in luck, but what about the rest of the world?

Well, starting with the Wikipedia page on the subject, it quickly becomes apparent that one of the reasons for the skill vs luck controversy is that no-one can actually agree on what “luck” actually is. The “Interpretations” section of the wikipedia page lists four possible definitions, some with variants:

  • Luck as a lack of control;
  • Luck as a fallacy;
  • Luck as an essence or supernatural force; and
  • Luck as a self-fulfilling prophecy.

But I’m not sure that they have listed everything, and I want to explore some facets of the concept that aren’t necessarily facilitated by this set of definitions. Not that I necessarily have anything better to offer.

Blind Luck

The first point to be made is that in olden times, luck was viewed as an external agency or force that was subject to supernatural control. If a deity, devil, or whatever felt inimical toward you (or just wanted to amuse him or herself), they could inflict back luck on you. If they were encouraged with worship, donations, etc, they might become favorably disposed, and give you good luck. But the god of luck was often portrayed as being blind, meaning that he or she did not play favorites unless forced to by one of the other deities. This view was modified somewhat by Terry Pratchett in the guise of “Blind Io”, the current king of the Diskworld Gods.

The only aspect of this concept of luck to survive into modern times other than through superstition – that link is to a wikipedia contents page that will lead you in all sorts of interesting directions on the topic (a search on the subject of luck superstitions brings up a bunch of pages but no attempt has been made to correlate these into a concordance, the information is piecemeal) – is this concept of evenhandedness.

The core assumption of probability is that random phenomena do not play favorites. Each outcome is as likely as any other – but some outcomes can be categorized in various ways, and that permits the deployment of various analytic tools of the mathematical kind. This probabilistic assumption is the basis of most games of chance – everything from flipping coins to rolling dice to dealing cards. Loaded dice, card counters, double-headed coins, and marked cards are considered cheating because they violate this principle.

Sidebar: Random Number Function
A lot of programmers use the inbuilt random number generator that’s a part of most programming languages. Way back in the day, before I started using Microsoft operating systems, I decided to test the random number function built into commodore basic. I soon discovered that it wasn’t all that “clean” – numbers below 0.03 (3%) and above 0.97 (97%) were not showing up as often as they should. After a lot of heavy thinking, I came up with an algorithm that gave me flat probabilities to 6 decimal places – generate a random number, take the inverse sine of that number, multiply by 100 or so to shift the decimal point, and then drop off the integer. I tried multiplying two such numbers together and multiplying or dividing by 10 until I got to a value between 1 and 100, then lopping off the integer to get the random number, and was able to extend the accuracy to 8 decimal places (yes, I had to get a little creative with the programming to extract 8 decimal places from a system that ran to only 8 digits in a variable, but it can be done if you know your maths), and still with satisfactorily even randomness. Yes, a fair d100,000,000! But then I realized that if I had even 2-digit fair random numbers, I could string together as many of them as I wanted to get a result of any desired size.

I don’t know if this is the problem in modern systems that it used to be, but just in case, I thought it would be worthwhile. Or at least interesting to other programmers!

Luck through potential

When you have the capability to do something, you look for ways to use what you know. That means that it’s not luck when you come across a task that is exactly suited to you, though it can seem so. What’s more, if others know you have a particular skill, sooner or later, someone will have need of someone with that skill – so what can seem like serendipity isn’t luck then, either. But these are part of what we normally describe as “luck” in both mental and verbal shorthand.

Luck through experience

When people learn a skill, they also learn all sorts of other things that go along with it – something that RPGs are notorious about either ignoring or handling poorly, because it rapidly gets very complicated. For example, when you learn how to make furniture, you also learn other aspects of woodworking like measuring, and how to handle timber, and so on. That means that you build up a bank of basic skills as you live your life, and problems that once would have seemed insuperable or a major task in their own right tend to get solved almost without thinking about it – you just go ahead and do it.

It might seem like luck that your projects turn out correctly, time after time; it’s not. It’s the application of expertise acquired through experience. That’s why people who learn how to do things with tools are called a “Handyman”. But it can certainly look, from the outside, as though the more experience you have, the luckier you are.

Part of it is positioning yourself to take advantage of opportunities if one is presented. Do this often enough and you will score a “lucky” result – one that has nothing to do with your good luck, but may have something to do with someone else’s misfortune or mistake. But that’s not really “luck” either.

Luck through preparation

The appearance of success can be enough to lead to success. Proper preparations, for example outfitting yourself with all the tools that you need for a particular job and learning how to use them, can produce what appear to be strokes of luck. If you want a bank loan, don’t look like you slept on the street – dress up for the loan interview and appear to be successful. It may not get you the loan, but it can make the difference between an “almost yes” and a “yes”.

You are less likely to get ripped off if you seem to know what you’re talking about, and even less likely to get ripped off if you DO know what you’re talking about.

Luck through relationships

In the Mythadventures series by Robert Asprin, Skeeve comes across as being pretty lucky. It doesn’t seem to matter how tight the spot is that he finds himself in, he ends up walking away in better shape than he was in before it started. In “Little Myth Marker”, this luck is central to the plot (and some of the most interesting content of that particular novel, especially if you figure out who the bad guy is almost right away, like I did. Certainly, like all mysteries, on subsequent re-readings you are going to be focusing your attention on something other than the primary plot.

At least one of the characters comes to attribute Skeeve’s luck, for the most part, on the efforts put forth by the collection of friends and hangers-on that work alongside him to solve the problems he encounters (and who have often been inadvertently or mistakenly responsible for getting him into those problems in the first place). And why are they willing to do this? Because of the relationships that they have with Skeeve.

If a lot of people help one person out a little bit, the difference in their life can be profound, and it can seem like they have good luck. It follows that if we all help other people out, just a little, a lot of people’s lives get better – and that can provide opportunities for still others to benefit. If everyone tried to help everyone else out, the effect would probably be so diluted that no perceptible benefits would be realized; but if we target those who appear to need it most, they are elevated beyond the need for further infusions of this kind of luck, enabling us to move on to the next target of need. Eventually, through social participation, those who received this largess reach the point of being able to help others themselves, and society in general improves, which benefits (indirectly) those who helped in the first place. There is a cascade effect that can aggregate benefits beyond the individual recipient.

(Similarly, if we have a society in which not enough people help others as opposed to looking after themselves, there can be a cascading effect of negative “benefits” that harms the broader society. I sometimes wonder if this is enough to explain the social problems that we see around us today, if that’s where the innocence of the 50s and the optimism of the 60s went off the rails. But that’s an entirely separate discussion).

It’s not luck when a friend benefits because we’ve helped them; it’s a reflection of the relationship that has been established. It’s not even luck when an anonymous stranger benefits from the charity of others. But it can seem that way, when the help is not expected – and gloomy outlooks tend to lead to people not expecting help.

Luck through ignorance

Sometimes, the opposite can happen. You can attempt a task and succeed because you don’t know that it “can’t be done”. The more experience you have, the more aware of the mistakes and pitfalls you are, and the more you concentrate on finesse and quality of result. Beginners, who aren’t educated enough to notice these distractions, but who are smart enough and educated enough to solve one problem after another as they arise, can often succeed where their more experienced fellows will fail.

It can even be argued that awareness of the dangers, risks, and avenues of failure, are a distraction that prevents the experienced person from devoting his full attention to the task at hand, and that this alone can be enough to cause them to fail. I think that may be going too far, but it’s certainly a good explanation for the phenomenon known as “beginner’s luck”.

It’s not luck at all

It’s even possible to argue, based on the analyses that have been conducted throughout this article, that there is no such thing as luck. It’s not luck if your opponents are distracted or make mistakes or have made inadequate preparations. It’s not luck if you have a business that is ready to do a job and a customer wanting just such a job done finds your name. It’s not luck if you are presented with an unexpected opportunity.

Heck, even rolling a dice isn’t really luck. It’s an isolated result from a statistical grouping of such results, and attaching any profound meaning to an individual result is a form of self-delusion.

And yet, those individual results – in a sufficiently short term – can be significant, can bear unexpected fruit, and that’s because in the short term we’re talking about a closed set of results, while in the longer term, the assumption has to be that luck will even out.

Conclusions: Fallacies To The Left Of Me, Fallacies To The Right

Luck is the “Weak Nuclear Force” of the arrow of time. Significant, potentially even overpowering, over short distances / numbers of events, but eventually it will not be enough – if you keep playing.

So many manifestations of “luck” exist that are actually the result of skill and experience that you have to start to wonder if everything can be dismissed this way.

And yet…

Luck: An Undeniable Factor

Butterflies in Beijing can flap their wings, creating random atmospheric fluctuations, and these can propagate and trigger more significant variations, and if everything lines up exactly right, the weather changes. It’s not impossible for a lucky streak (or an unlucky one) to extend far beyond anything reasonable; it’s just improbable, and that means that it can happen. Try your luck often enough, and your luck will come up trumps – that’s the principle behind people buying a lottery ticket every week. Someone has to win, and you have just as great a chance as anyone else.

So luck is real. Random subatomic fluctuations and other sources of randomness can cascade into macroscopic differences, and the only way to analyze`these events is statistically.

Three Theories

I’ve avoided putting forth my answer on the whole luck vs skill debate throughout this article, because I needed to explain where I was coming from and how I had reached these conclusions. I have three theories regarding the interplay between luck and skill:

  1. Much of what we consider luck is the result of expertise, experience, or other non-random factors.
  2. Luck dominates the short-term or limited sample, skill dominates the long-term and unrestricted examples.
  3. Skill is an opportunity for luck, in the form of randomness, to have an effect.

They are not mutually exclusive. Asking which is better is like asking if it’s better to have a blue right eye or a brown left. So long as you can see through them, who cares?

An Unreal World

As GMs, we’re in the business of creating Artificial Simulations Of Imaginary Realities. This is an incredibly complex task, and an accurate rendering of such a world would be so cumbersome as to be useless, unfit for purpose. We make luck a reality within our games because it provides a means of shortcutting the impossible depth of simulation that is otherwise required. We can’t control the outcome of any given dice roll, and the system actually breaks down to a certain extent when we try (possibly to get rebuilt as a better version of the outcome from the point of view of one or other participants, but that’s a whole different can of worms).

We build Artificial Simulations of Imaginary Realities, bringing all of our skill to bear on the task. And if we’re lucky, that Simulation will be experienced by players who appreciate it, and participate in it, and in the process, elevate it beyond the standard imposed by the limitations of our skill. Skill or Luck? I’ll take a serving of each, thanks very much.

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The Blind Enforcer: The Reflex Application Of Rules


Cropped & edited extract from The Triumph Of Justice by Gabriel Metsu. Refer to the link for terms of reuse.

This article is the result of a confluence of many different vectors, from reading a review in the current issue of KODT of the original “Paranoia” RPG to reading an article at E Pluribus Unum about Twitter mistakenly suspending an account as a purveyor of spam. Setting aside the questions of anti-spam techniques and technologies and their application in this specific case, it raised an interesting thought in general.

Twitter, and the other social networks, are not public services; they are entitled to define whatever rules for usage that they like, and you can either follow those rules or stop using the service.

But these incidents raise a larger question. People write rules all the time, but when it comes to technology, they then encode these rules into Rules and make the detection of infringements the province of automated systems.

That’s fine, too – there’s far too much activity for human agencies to sift through it all, looking for red flags. But no algorithm is perfect, when it’s monitoring human activity. It can’t be; we don’t normally reduce to neat lines; there is always some fuzziness. And that becomes a problem when the same automated systems also initiate action.

The Need For Speed

And yet, there is a need for a speedy response to allegations of spam or other misuse of technology. Even an additional ten minutes can permit hundreds, thousands, or tens of thousands more to be victimized by undesirable behavior. The obvious solution is for enforcement actions to be subject to human review – but not only would this be mind-numbingly dull, since most of the decisions would be correct, but it would be expensive. So the system in place relies on the occasional incorrectly-targeted individual requesting a review of the decision. Those who knowingly broke the rules won’t bother appealing because they know they will lose. You could even make the argument that appealing such an automated decision is prima facae evidence of innocence.

The Dimension-Regency Extrapolation

When I was creating the background for the setting of the current Zenith-3 campaign, Dimension-Regency, I extrapolated from systems that were being put in place in Sydney that not only automatically detected traffic infringements – speeding and running red lights – and automatically issued infringement notices to a future in which judicial decisions were made by Expert Systems in 2050. The discovery process produced an agreed-upon submission of facts, and these facts – and relevant arguments – were input into the system which produced a verdict. Appealing such a decision also needed to pass through this software – if the machine determined that there were valid grounds for appeal, or an unresolved point of law was identified, permission was granted to appeal to a human judge and jury. If no such reason was identified, the software refused leave to appeal and proceeded to a sentencing phase, which assessed the various relevant factors and produced a sentence that was informed by established social mores and lay somewhere between the minimum and maximum mandated sentences. Once again, permission to appeal the sentence might be appealed, using the same process already outlined.

The point was that 98% of lawsuits and criminal cases were resolved without requiring lengthy court procedures, cutting the court backlog massively.

What I didn’t realize until I read the article referred to in my opening paragraph is that this perfectly and precisely forecasts the rule enforcement procedures and policies employed by Twitter, and no doubt by other social networks, today. (At the time, there was no such thing as social media; I based a lot of my material on IRC, which was the social connectivity of its day.

Rules Without Oversight

Computers without adequate human oversight are a feature of movies such as Dr Strangelove and the Terminator franchise, to name just a few. It’s unnecessarily alarmist to view the shortcomings of the Twitter implementation of their rules and policies as the thin edge of the wedge, but nevertheless, the eerie similarities to those dystopian views remains.

So how does all this matter to RPGs and to GMs?

The RPG Equation

Aside from the obvious utility to sci-fi RPGs, there is, once again, the broader issue. One of the most significant changes in the last decade or two has been a move away from the philosophy that “the GM is always right”. This was stated explicitly in AD&D, was watered down slightly in 2nd Edition, and watered down still further in third edition to only being able to arbitrate when there was a conflict within the rules.

There is a very real debate that has raged throughout gaming (even on these pages) between the old-school philosophy and the new-school. I’ve made my position in this debate very clear on a number of occasions, and have also held extended discussions with my players on the subject.


Players like certainty. They like especially like certainty about the rules, the knowledge that they can have their characters attempt to do something and that it will be arbitrated according to standards that they both know and understand. The old school demands absolute trust in the GM by the players, and that is not always forthcoming, with good reason; every GM and player has suffered at the hands of apparent abuses of this authority. This produces a trend toward demanding that the rules, as written, must be enforced when clear, and let the chips fall where they may.

… vs. Control

GMs like certainty, too, but they also demand the authority to decide – based on the circumstances and campaign – exactly what that certainty contains. Nevertheless, the truth is that a GM who tries to force the players to his will risks having no players, just as a player who refuses to obey the GM risks being asked not to play again. Everyone is giving up a portion of their free time in the expectation that they will have fun, or at least be entertained. If that doesn’t happen, the game is in trouble.

And uncertainty makes for unhappy players; which means that every diversion from the written rules must be justified, and (even then) is on perpetually-shaky ground. So there is constant pressure on the GM to follow the rules as written, like some mindless automaton, and an increasing expectation on the part of players that the rules will be as written in the sourcebooks.

I don’t advocate players being at the mercy of GM whim, but I am convinced that the current trend toward the role of the GM-as-an-umpire has gone too far. When players can state, with peer approval, that they would never play in a game that has house rules, or never cast a spell that has been modified by the GM – both of which have happened to me in the past – there is a problem. Eventually, inevitably, like the situation reportedly facing Twitter, removing human oversight over the rules and their interpretation leads to trouble.

The Ironic Uncertainty

The irony of the whole situation is that a mindless and dogmatic application of rules – the only thing that a machine understands unless it is programmed very cleverly – has produced a situation in which uncertainty is dominant. When using a service in exactly the manner advocated produces an outcome deemed contrary to the rules, and hence a penalty, no-one is certain what they can or can’t do.

There are a lot of deep issues involved in this situation, Oversimplification of a situation to the point where black and white rules can be followed dogmatically produces inflexibility and cases “falling through the cracks”.

The Hierarchy Of Rules

I believe that there is, or should be, a hierarchy of GM rule authority. I’ve discussed this before – notably in Blat! Zot! Pow! The Rules Of Genre In RPGs. In it, I advocate:

  • House Rules Trump Official Rules
  • Simulation (i.e Realism) Trumps Rules
  • Genre Trumps Simulation
  • Plot Trumps Genre
  • Campaign Trumps Plot
  • Gameplay (i.e. Practicality of Play) Trumps All

It could be argued that Fun should ride atop this hierarchy as the ultimate trump card, but I reject that; these guidelines (and a lot of other GM advice) is all about making the game fun, so I don’t consider this necessary. It might also be argued that Justice or Fairness should be explicitly stated at some level, probably between Campaign and Gameplay, but – once again – I reject this; the assumption must be made that at each of these levels, the GMs rulings are fair, and indeed the whole purpose of this hierarchy is to be certain that fairness and justice has an opportunity to play a role, by explicitly considering situations in which a lower order of rulings might produce an unfair result.

Rejecting The Rules

Examining this hierarchy in terms of enforcement, it should be clear that there are three areas where GMs can and should override the existing and agreed-upon rules.

The first is when the rules dictate an unrealistic outcome (in terms of what is ‘realistic’ for the GAME world, which is not necessarily the same as what is realistic in the ‘real’ world); when this happens, GMs should forget the rules and dictate whatever outcome is ‘realistic’.

The second is when Genre trumps realism, even within the game world. This safeguards against flaws in the game world’s conceptual mechanics, and explicitly mandates occasions when the GM should override not only what is reasonable and realistic within the game world – and never mind what the Rules say. This is also an area where the players can have their say; while they aren’t always in possession of all the facts, and so cannot state unequivocally that a ruling is contrary to Simulation, the definition of what is and what is not canonical within the genre and sub-genre are far more open.

Practical Gameplay
The final point of appeal is to the question of gameplay. It doesn’t matter what the rules, or earlier rulings say – if its not a practical approach, the GM needs to short-circuit the process and get on with the game. It should take less than 2 seconds to identify whether or not there is an issue to consider at each of these levels, and no more than 30 seconds to make a decision – I would prefer to say less than 10, but sometimes it takes longer than that to find, never mind read, read the relevant sections of rules.

If it takes longer than 60 seconds, my rule-of-thumb is to decide what happens without recourse to the rules, running that decision through the above gamut (assuming that my ruling is a house rule). If you can manage to make a decision in ten seconds or less, then the entire process of arbitrating even the complicated situation should take a minute or so – not an unreasonable time frame.

An alternative hierarchy

Some people have suggested to me that the hierarchy itself is incorrect, and should read:

  • House Rules Trump Official Rules
  • Plot Trumps Rules
  • Campaign Trumps Plot
  • Simulation (i.e Realism) Trumps Campaign
  • Genre Trumps Simulation
  • Gameplay (i.e. Practicality of Play) Trumps All

This is a very interesting point, and one that merits further discussion. In a nutshell, should subjective in-game reality overrule plot/campaign, or can plot/campaign overrule subjective in-game reality?

I chose the first hierarchy over the second because a plotline can focus on the (temporary) overriding of established in-game reality, but it has been since pointed out to me that this simply enlarges the scope of what is permitted within the in-game reality by displaying a new phenomenon. It’s the difference between ‘subjective in-game reality’ and ‘established in-game reality’.

A Decision

After much thought, I have decided that the original hierarchy should stand, because it places the welfare of the campaign above that of the ‘realism’ of the campaign. Objective reality might say that a properly-maintained and prepared weapon will fire reliably – but if it is better (read “more fun”) for adventure or the campaign for the gun to misfire, then hang it all, it should misfire!


And that brings us back to the point of this article. A slavish adherence – a ‘foolish consistency’ as Emerson described it – to the rules of anything does more harm than good. Certainly, consistency is important, and should not be ignored by whim or caprice – but flexibility and an admission that circumstances alter cases, rendering some of them fuzzy, must be built into every decision-making system – whether we’re talking about Twitter rules, RPG rules, traffic tickets, mandatory minimums, or Skynet.

Sidebar: Recommended Reading
I couldn’t let this article pass by without plugging one of the best books I’ve ever read on the rise of machine intelligence and the inflexible application of rules: James P. Hogan’s The Two Faces Of Tomorrow (3.82 rating at Goodreads) – review. amazon page. And, most astonishingly, it was written in 1979, when computers were in their infancy. The science-fiction – and the science in back of it – still rings true today, 35 years later. And that’s very, very, rare. I give it a personal 4.95 out of 5.

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Writing to the limits of longevity

When you write, how long do you want the words, the meaning, to last?

Every minute spent writing more than is needed is time wasted.

Some writing is intended for almost immediate consumption, and will never be needed again. If we could be sure of remembering all our thoughts and plans, only the barest mention should be enough to bring them to mind, but memory is fallible, especially when distracted by other things, like players.

Other writing, for example most of the articles that have appeared here at Campaign Mastery, are intended to be evergreen, lasting for as long as they remain relevant, as close to forever as possible. Creatures and races that may be used in other campaigns or by other GMs.

And then there are writings that are intended to have a longevity somewhere in between. Adventure notes that may need to be referred to in writing a subsequent adventure weeks, months, or years down the track. Descriptions of NPCs who are intended to recur in future encounters. More traditional blog posts, or announcements of achievements or milestones. Most news has a finite lifespan, and then becomes history.

The three place very different demands on the writer or author, and very definitely have different pitfalls to be wary of. Nor are the dividing lines as neat and confined as these labels suggest; these are just points on an entire spectrum of possible target longevities.

Writing for immediacy

The immediate the intended consumption, the more than can usually be assumed – social context, relevance to current events, the meaning of a personal code used to compress the information, and so on. The greatest dangers involved are insufficient development, over-compression, memory failure, unexpected delays in delivery, and an unexpected need for subsequent longevity.

Insufficient Development

The first and most obvious trap is not doing enough, or perhaps assuming that you will be better at improvising the rest on the day. It’s all well and good to do the bare minimum that you think you can get away with, but if that judgment is erroneous or you are off your game, it can all come unstuck.

I always aim for a little more longevity and completeness than I think I need, a lesson very definitely learned the hard way. I make a checklist of the major topics and ensure that I have at least thought about each, and made at least one reference note – the tip of the iceberg when it comes to that topic – upon which I can build.


I’ve suffered from this a number of times. It is the mistake of assuming that you will remember what a string of characters Such as “*K16″ means when you come across it in you character notes, or that some cryptic reference that was obvious to you at the time you wrote it will still make sense when you get to the gaming table. In essence, it’s relying on memory to interpret some veiled reference, summary, or prompt.

The best solution to this is to have a system, and to write that system down, with a “generation number” – we’re all familiar with those, whether you recognize the term or not. “Version 2.4″ is a generation number, indicating the fourth minor revision after a complete rewrite. These are used for computer software all the time, for the simple reason that they (usually) work. The final pieces of the puzzle is to always update a copy of this master document, so that you have all the previous versions available, and to WRITE THE VERSION USED on whatever notes you’re making.

I would have to hunt for a couple of hours to find it, but I first started using this technique for public speaking, where certain basic symbols not part of the regular extended typeset – diamond, triangle, square, filled circle, etc – were employed to indicate “More forceful,” “Pause 1/2 sec,” “Deep Breath,” etc.

Memory Failure

Marginally Worse than having a cryptic clue that you cannot decipher (even though you are both author and intended target) is having no clue at all because you were sure that you would remember something “so obvious”. This is the sort of mistake that people make, learn from for a while, and then make again.

There is a quote from Clifford Stoll’s The Cuckoo’s Egg (a very readable and entertaining book that I can highly recommend): “If you don’t write it down, it didn’t happen”. That’s probably going too far in terms of this sort of writing, but there is at least a grain of truth to it – and it is certainly true of any writing intended to be viable in more than a day or two.

Making sure that each of the major logical topics has at least the hint of what I was thinking guards against this problem.

Unexpected Delays

More than once, I’ve prepared material in the expectation of using it on a particular date, only for the event in question – a game session or whatever – to be rescheduled, either by a day, a week, a fortnight, a month, or even a couple of months; and while I could understand and interpret that material just fine on the original “due date”, it was little more than gibberish when the rescheduled date arrived.

Having learned the hard way, if a session doesn’t go ahead, I use the time to expand a little on my written notes – not polishing or refining per se (though there’s often a tweak here and a nuance there as I go), but making sure that anything I expected to be able to remember gets written down. Even so, it’s astonishing how often I find myself drawing a complete blank, indicating a total memory failure.

When that happens, the first rule is: Don’t get frustrated, Clear your head for a couple of minutes, calm yourself, and then try to recapture the memories of doing the writing in the first place. What were you listening to? Was the TV on in the background? What was the weather like? What were you wearing? What had you just read? What had you just eaten? What had you just written? Quite often, recapturing any one memory of what had been forgotten is enough to lead you to other pieces of the jigsaw puzzle, which fit together one after the other. You just have to find a starting point.

I have some additional, general, solutions as well, which I will describe in a moment.

Unexpected Longevity Requirements

So there was a throwaway NPC who appeared in your game five years ago, and to whom you never gave a second thought once their appearance in the plot had come and gone. Suddenly, you need for that character to reappear, or at least be referenced, because the PCs are going back to the scene – something you had no idea would happen at all.

Or perhaps, a month or two later, you find yourself wanting to describe an incident in the game in a blog or short story, and that character is the starting point for the incident.

You may be able to find the old adventure, with its compost of compression, shorthand, and cryptic notes that were perfectly meaningful to you at the time, or that might be long-gone. The information that you thought you would only need for a few days is suddenly needed again.

No matter how effectively you write what you need and no more, sometimes you can find that you actually need rather more than you thought.

Assuming that you can find your original, the techniques already described will help ensure that they are decipherable, and comprehensive enough to get into the ballpark. Any differences between the new version and the original can be explained as a consequence of the passage of time – if you leave any description of the intervening period loose enough that an incident can be spontaneously inserted. What the players most remember and what you remember might well be two quite different things, because you remember the version you created, and they remember the version that you delivered in play.

If the original has been lost, or destroyed, then you have no choice but to recreate it. And that’s a real problem when everything you did was only meant to make sense, or even just to exist, for a limited time-frame.

The one solution that is unacceptable because it is often unenforceable is “never throw anything away”, and “over-write everything”.

The general solution techniques below will help. But the most powerful tool you have when you really, really, need help are the memories of your players, and any notes they may have made, and any session notes that you might have. Use them!

General Solutions: Two Guidelines

There are two techniques that I use when writing for immediacy: Buried Cues and Development Notes.

Buried Cues

I always assume that I may need to expand the lifetime of a piece of immediate writing. While it is wasteful to spend time writing for greater longevity, that doesn’t mean that a note or two on what would be required to extend the comprehension lifetime is out of place. These are almost always related to context. For example, if I’m making notes about an NPC who I expect to be of little lasting significance and who is not likely to recur, the buried cues would be the relationships of the NPC to other NPCs in the plotline, the role of the NPC in the plotline, future goals or ambitions of the NPC, and any distinctive mannerisms or performance notes that identify the individual. These not only help you rebuild your understanding of the minimalist documentation that you have provided, but they provide the foundations for rewriting or revisiting the character at some future point. They place your compressed notes into a context that enables you to work back to the small-scale or to expand the writing back up to a larger scale.

Development Notes

If you make all of your development notes in a single book or in files kept in a specific folder, then you can go back to them if necessary. These will often be fragmentary and cryptic, bereft of any context whatsoever, but nevertheless, it’s better than nothing when you really get stuck.

It’s fairly normal for these to go missing (one way or another) before the final product does, especially if the notes were handwritten on a pad or something. Hence the solution of using a single workbook to archive all your development notes – you never know when you’ll need something from it. And you can always scribble notes in the margins at the time of development that – although useless at the time – can be dynamite months or years down the track.

Every unused idea is just waiting to be re-jigged for use somewhere else on some other occasion.

One of the great assets of computer-based documentation is that you can revise and edit without having to retype everything that hasn’t changed from scratch. This is also one of its greatest liabilities because it destroys the record of development. The solution is to maintain a generation numbering system – but be sure to follow it religiously, or you can end up with generation confusion which can be even worse than no records at all.

Writing for the Medium-Term

Writing for the medium term is a bit more involved. It requires more more substance, and more depth. Whatever you’re writing is something that you expect to have to refer to in the future. In order to keep this information accessible, you need to either have a consistent format for your compression, or you need to avoid compressing the content in the first place. What usually gets left out are explanations and context; it’s more a bullet-point summary. That means that the dangers that await are over-compression, under-expansion, assumptions, a lack of relevant context, and legacy standards.



It’s still great to be able to compact what you have written down to a single, easily-digested nugget. The great danger of doing so is that the mental algorithm that enables you to reverse this process, going from compressed thought to whole concept, may be lost. Compressing ideas and text in this fashion is more like reducing the file size of a jpg than it is creating a zip file, although the latter is more often the metaphor employed; the only way to shrink a jpg image without making it physically smaller is to throw detail away. This can be done to a certain extent without ever being obvious, or it can be compressed so much that obvious corruption takes place. The information that is thrown away can never be recovered, though it can be faked sometimes.

The picture to the right shows two views of the same photograph. The first was saved at high quality, the second at very poor quality. The second image may be only 5.7% of the file size, but it is totally worthless – it has been Over-compressed, too much has been thrown away.

Similarly, if you go too far in boiling your NPC’s personality down to its essentials, or the tactical layout, or whatever, you will lose details that may prove essential when you go back to use the information again. This creates additional work at best or can be completely humiliating at worst, when your players point out that if this was the way things were, none of the escapades they had been on subsequently would have been necessary. This puts you in the position of reinventing the wheel, on the fly, again (and while everyone is waiting on you) or having consigned half the campaign to the scrap-bin. Even if you get through this harrowing experience, the campaign may take years to recover.

Does that seem like overblown apocalyptic vision to you? Well, let’s consider your campaign to be akin to a novel. Somewhere in the early pages, the protagonist has an encounter with a femme fatale; this encounter launches him into a series of unlikely incidents that put his entire life into a spin cycle. Towards the end of the book, he encounters the woman once again, but the author has lost his notes; so instead of being a femme fatale, she is now a homemaker with two kids and a very happy marriage. This totally undermines the initial premise of the story, especially since if the protagonist at the start of the novel was the honest, honorable type who would never dream of getting involved with a married woman. If the author picks up on the problem, he can either try to recapture the original character, or he can add some lame justification for her pretending to be what she initially appeared to be, even though that is also in direct contradiction to the personality used at the end of the story.

Still not buying it? Okay, try this example: The bad guys operate from a nigh-impregnable fortress. Most of the plot of the story is about the protagonist finding a way to exploit the one area of vulnerability that he has been able to identify, recruiting specialists, questing for lost arcane arts, etc. Finally, the protagonist is ready, and the author sets out to describe the climactic confrontation. He needs the villains to have an escape route planned, but there’s no mention of that escape route in his notes, so he creates a new one – which is inadvertently a major hole in the security of the fortress, one which the protagonist was well able to recognize at the very start of the story (had it been there, then). It’s too late to alter the original description, that’s already been published, and besides, if that hole had been there, then, the whole story unravels; he has to either redo the fortress again, on-the-fly (in order to meet his deadline), eliminating the security hole, or his protagonist is revealed as an idiot who can’t see what’s right in front of him. The only quick solution, lame as it is, is for the security hole to have been engineered into the fortress in the intervening period – but what might have been a thrilling fantasy adventure is crippled by this problem of engineering contradictory needs into his fortress design. Knowing the need for the villains to escape (or at least the potential need), he almost certainly had some clever idea for managing this when he first described the fortress, one that did NOT create a security vulnerability – but the details were left out of the original notes.

Read some amateur locked-room mysteries, and you’ll quickly discover that this happens far more often than you ever suspected. All you can say when it does is “whoops”. And start thinking, very hard.

It’s one thing to eliminate extraneous details and capture only the essence of whatever you’re writing about. It’s quite another to fail to adequately document something that might turn out to be essential.

The only real solution is to be organized and have something written in every area of possible need from the beginning.


Almost as frequent is under-expansion of the compressed ideas. This happens in badly-written TV and movies a lot – an idea or scene gets compressed because it’s taking up too much screen time, or it’s too expensive, or it simply makes the movie drag at that point – but in the process, a plot hole is created because the essential information that was to be conveyed by the scene never gets mentioned or shown. The real culprit here is a failure to note what is essential and what is window dressing.

It doesn’t matter how great the original idea is, if you do not develop it enough to work out the kinks, it will fall flat. I can actually point at an example published right here at Campaign Mastery – the plot development technique given in the article, Amazon Nazis On The Moon: Campaign Planning Revisited. This started as nothing more than the title – which is a cool idea, promising lots of B-adventure fun – but it needed a lot of development and insertion of backstory, shown in the course of the article, before it became workable as a serious plotline.

When writing a novel, your notes on anything are typically more extensive than the information you ultimately convey within the story. Why? Because you develop the idea – be it a location or a character – before you know exactly what you are going to need. You may not go as far as drawing up architectural blueprints of the scene where the action is to take place, but a rough sketch to give you the layout of the building can not only make it a lot easier to write, it can save you from horrendous mistakes like putting a 30′ square kitchen into a 10′ x 10′ space. Or worse yet, putting 5 red dragons into a 10′ x 10′ room on the 10th sub-level of a dungeon, with no access to the open air, which a (very inexperienced) GM I knew years ago actually did. (Worse still, they were flapping their wings in agitation when the PCs opened the door into the room). You may now cringe.

Well, the leisurely pace of a novelist doesn’t fit the deadline pressures experienced by every GM who has a gaming session tomorrow to prepare for. We rarely have time to do anything more than is absolutely necessary (and sometimes not even that much). That means that we have to compress ideas and descriptions and dialogue and characterizations and what-have-you, especially when we’re making notes.

Under-expansion happens when we have a documented idea for something but don’t develop it enough to integrate it with the rest of the details of the something. It might be a character background not fitting with the personality profile of the character, or detailed descriptions of the decorations in a room that we know is going to be closely scrutinized.

I had another idea for an example but decided that it was unnecessary. But the idea is too cool, and too original not to mention it in passing. Somewhere in a room is a clue to something – the location of a treasure, perhaps. The room is dominated by a semi-abstract painting consisting of multiple daubs of brightly-colored paint in many colors – which, when viewed from the far side of the room forms an image – something like Children On A Farm by Camille Pissarro, shown to the left, and a closeup of part of that painting, shown below it. For a few days each year, when the sun is at the right angle (month and time of day) and the right color (sunset), the light transforms the image by changing the color of the paint, hiding some colors and making others dark or gray. Only then – like the tests used for color-blindness – can the hidden map or message be seen.

Development work needed before this idea could be used include: art movements in the campaign world, establishing the art style used (Impressionist), making sure the players know the defining characteristics of that art style, establishing color-blindness and the standard tests for it as obscure knowledge, establishing knowledge of the movement of the sun (something like Stonehenge used to identify the solstices would do it), making sure that whoever had the work commissioned had the wealth and knowledge to create the clue, and maybe even establishing the concept of secret writings and hidden messages. Then you need the story of the target, and why it was hidden, and the myths and stories that have derived from that secret in the intervening years, and how it was that the secret was lost in the first place.

Now, if you put all of that into the one adventure, the players are going to be able to put 2+2+2 together very quickly to solve the puzzle. If you spread most of that background out into other adventures as incidental information that the PCs pick up, it won’t be quite so obvious. Leave any of that development info out, and the mystery is unsolvable unless the players just happen to have the right information in their possession – not a good bet at all.

But the idea of a painting that holds a clue invisible but in plain sight until the light is in the right angle and is of the right color is such a cool variation on something that’s become a common trope that I had to share it.


Making assumptions about what the players will remember or know is a recipe for disaster. Equally hazardous is assuming that the characters will have been somewhere or done something between now and when a notation becomes relevant to the plot. But the biggest assumption of the lot is that you will understand what you were trying to remind yourself of, way back when.

It might be obvious to you at the time of writing what the significance of “Brandysnap Wine by the sunset moon” means (it doesn’t mean anything in particular to me) but for all its poetry, it’s going to be inscrutable beyond the point of comprehension a year or two later. A lot of the time, we build ideas around events in the real world, or in popular movies or TV shows; the smallest tip of the hat to these ideas is usually enough to bring them to mind for a while, so a brief or oblique reference is all that’s needed. But those memories fade with time.

Unfortunately, there is no easy answer to this problem. Your cryptic self-reminder might well contain all the information that you need, but if you can’t interpret it, the information is almost as good as lost. The best answer is to annotate these snippets with the subject matter, as briefly and succinctly as possible. If I were to put the phrase “Color:” in front of the “Brandysnap Wine” note, suddenly it starts to make sense. If I were to put the word “Desire:” in front of it, ditto. Or the phrase “Fondest memory of husband:”. Or “Recurring nightmare – Drowning:”. Or “Recognition signal, agent X:”.

This isn’t a matter of over-compression; it’s about identifying what the compressed note refers to, rather than making the assumption that “I’ll remember/know what that’s about” – something people are especially prone to when the image is somewhat striking, as in this case.

Absence of Context

Even knowing the subject may not be enough. The examples in the preceding section all convey the context within the information provided, or imply it – you should have been able to tell that this hypothetical note was part of a character write-up in most of the examples (“Color” is not quite so obvious, though it was obviously part of a description of something).

But a note such as “Like Coventry” might mean anything. It might mean that a location specifically resembled some aspect of Coventry, the British city. It might be referring to an event – Churchill’s knowledge of the imminent German bombing of the city, decision not to evacuate, and subsequent tour of the devastation, spring to mind. Or it might be referring to the episode of Babylon 5 in which that sequence of events is discussed, or something else within that episode (be it an object, a slice of dialogue, a theme, or whatever) of the same name. Or the short story by Robert A Heinlein. There are dozens of possible interpretations, and even putting a subject to the note (“Character” or “Location” or “Event”) is not enough. There is an absence of context.

Wikipedia has this sort of problem all the time. They use disambiguation pages to give as many possible meanings as they can find so that people can pick the right answer – but note that the aforementioned Babylon-5 episode is not listed on the disambiguation page – perhaps because the episode was actually named “In the Shadow of Z’ha’dum”!

Making any sort of popular or cultural reference in your notes carries a lot of baggage with it, and you can use such a reference to connect part of that baggage to whatever it is that your notes refers to. If I refer to “Sideshow Bob” the context is clear, because he has appeared in the Simpsons so often that the character is iconic. But what if the character changes markedly after the reference is made – what if this reference actually derives from events prior to “Krusty Gets Busted”, back when Bob was just Krusty’s Sidekick?

Or what if the context is forgotten, as the relevance of the reference fades? “Description: Snake In Drag” might refer to the Simpsons episode, or it might refer to the character from Escape from New York played by Kurt Russell, but it more probably refers to the sequence in “Tango & Cash” in which the same actor dresses in drag to evade capture by the police – or to some amalgam of two or more of these. How many people have even seen “Tango & Cash” recently enough to make the connection?

I know that if I were to use the description “Ray Tango In Drag” to describe an NPC, both I and at least one of my players would immediately ‘get’ the reference and be able to visualize the character. The rest? I’m not so sure.

Or take a more obscure one: “Blackwater Redacted” tells me immediately what I need to know to describe a document, and why it has that appearance. But I’m the only person in my playing group that watched “The West Wing”, and I only recognize the term – which doesn’t actually appear in the episode in question – because I re-watch the entire series once or twice a year. (For the record, the reference points to the episode “Somebody’s Going To Emergency, Somebody’s Going To Jail”, which is itself a reference to the lyrics of “New York Minute” by Don Henley).

Context gives meaning. For short-term writing, a lot of context can be assumed; it’s part of the cultural zeitgeist of the time. For longer-longevity writing, context can’t be assumed, it has to be explicit – just in case.

Legacy Standards

I talked earlier about using a standard format for your notes and compression of ideas, about the need to use version numbers and retain old versions, about the ease of overwriting existing information when using a computer, and about the need to document which version of the standard format you used for any given set of notes.

Failure to do any one of these things leaves you exposed to this problem – where notes have been made in a standard format but you no longer have the key to that format.

I once wrote a character generator to make random NPCs for my TORG campaign. An entry as output read something like:

378 8 11 6 8 12 11 7 12 3=10 C6 13 T:Sci 4 16 DX:MW 1 9 UC 2 10 ST Cl 2 13 PR:Tr 1 9 WV 3 11 MD:Ap 1 13 Ar 1 13 TW 2 14 CH:Pe 1 12 Prsnlty: P:pansy S:arguementative T:extreme.

Because I was used to the system, and knew the format, I could interpret these easily. In fact, I used an additional routine to identify these strings and expand on them, so that the printed output read:

378 DEX: 8 STR:11 TGH: 6 PERC: 8 MIND:12 CHAR:11 SPIR: 7 Possibilities:12 Reality (SPIR)+3=10/- Corruption+6=13/- TAG: Science (MIND)+4=16/- DEX: Melee Weapons+1=9/- Unarmed Combat+2=10/- STR: Climbing+2=13/- PERC: Trick+1=9/- Water Vehicles+3=11/- MIND: Apportation Magic+1=13/- Artist+1=13/- Test Of Wills+2=14/- CHAR: Persuasion+1=12/- Personality: Primary: pansy Secondary: argumentative Tertiary: extreme.

This took an extremely compact form and expanded it to the point where I could still use it today (and occasionally do) even though I no longer run that campaign (I still have all my notes, though).

But, since the key to the translation was part of the software I wrote, if I had left the information in that compressed format, it would now be useless without a manual key (The Formatting routines ended up being 80% of the program) – it would be encoded using a lost legacy standard.

This is easy to prevent and almost impossible to solve once it’s happened. Prevention simply requires doing the things I listed at the top of this section.

General Solutions: Three Guidelines

I use three guidelines when working on something that I expect might need to be used a long time after the initial creation, in addition to the specific advice offered above.

Development Plans

I make notes about what I would need to do to take something written for the medium term and convert it into something written for the long term. What additional development would be required? What assumed knowledge would I have to supply? What needs further explanation? What assumptions does the character make about society and politics and magic and the phases of the moon?

What would I need to do to take the character, or setting, or adventure, out of my campaign and publish it as a standalone product?

Note that it’s not necessary to actually do any of this work – this is just a list of what would need to be done, as brutally succinct as I can make it.

This tells me what areas have not been fully developed, and hence (by extension) which ones have. It helps interpret what is there.

Context Notes

I liberally sprinkle my notes with references to the context, even if it’s redundant and unnecessary information now. “Refer B5 ep discussion how much is a secret worth?” makes explicit a vague reference to “Coventry”. I try to identify just where my ideas came from, and how those sources of inspiration are relevant – then make notes.

This doesn’t mean that my ideas are plagiarized. It simply means that “Reference A” helped inspire the idea, and that if I have to recapture that idea from scanty source material at some future point, refreshing my recollection of Reference A will help to place me in the correct frame of mind to interpret what I’ve got.

Draft Snapshots

I don’t save documents in progress within the same file all the time, nor do I rely exclusively on system backups. Every now and then, I will increment a version number and save the work to date in that format – then park that archived version somewhere else. This has two benefits: one, it gives me a place to go to recover information that may have been overwritten or destroyed; and two, I can track the development of ideas by comparing older versions with later ones. Quite often I will discard an idea because I think I’ve come up with something better, only to run into a brick wall – and discover the solution to the problem lurking in work that has since been discarded.

Every time I have gotten a little lazy about maintaining these “draft snapshots”, circumstances have eventually bitten me on the tail. Months of work have been lost on occasion as a result.

Writing For The Long-Term

Writing for the long-term is still more difficult. You can assume nothing, and have to explain everything – but at the same time, prevent the writing from becoming dull or boring. The needs of the intended audience change over time – in the short term, little-to-no context is needed; at most, a single reference to each relevant point is enough to get everyone on the same page and in a position to understand the content that you are trying to deliver. As time passes, the content may stay relevant – good advice is still good advice, and a good idea is still a good idea – but the reader will be increasingly dependent on the article being self-contained. External references may have vanished, game systems may have changed, best practices may have developed that are different to those in place at the time of writing. Your writing needs to stand alone, be fully self-contained, in order to make sense to a new reader.

More than anything else, four things drove this home to me.

Incident The First: Adapting The Flói Af Loft & The Ryk Bolti For Campaign Mastery

The Flói Af Loft & The Ryk Bolti was an adventure I had created for my Fumanor Campaign (D&D 3.x). Adapting it was quite a lot of work; I had to take out all but the bare minimum campaign background, which in turn had an impact on several of the encounters. I had to expand on the options available to characters beyond those in the original, where I had focused exclusively on the capabilities of my players and their characters. I had to remove the effects of any House Rules. Many things that required no explanation (because they were known to the players from earlier adventures) had to be explained.

While I expected it to be fairly straightforward when I started, in the end, about 40% of the content had to be written completely from scratch, and half of what was left had to be revised. The “public” version is almost 1/3 longer than the original was. And it’s still not at what I would consider “ready to publish” standard – though it’s now finished enough for another GM to run the adventure, there’s a lot of expansion possible before it could stand alone as a module.

Incident The Second: Writing The Background “Novel” For my Champions Campaigns

In some ways, this was incredibly easy, because it was simply documenting the solo game that I used to develop the campaign concepts and learn the rules system. The first draft – 130+ pages – was completed in a single weekend using a manual typewriter. I then started on the second volume, and got about 8 chapters into it, with the rest outlined; this was based on events in the first campaign that I ran in that game universe, set about a decade after the start of the solo campaign. In plot terms, there was about 2 1/2 years between the end of the first novel and the start of the setting.

Writing of the second went a lot more slowly, because a lot of the details needed to be reinvented; there were too many characters that were too derivative of published (copyrighted and trademarked) characters from various sources. This was also typed with the manual typewriter.

Then I started writing the third volume, longhand, from campaign notes. I got part-way through it, liberally reinventing plots and characters, before returning to revise the first volume, now using a word processor.

The original draft of the first volume disposed of the protagonist’s background in three or four shortish chapters, totaling about 16 pages. The second draft turned those into more than 100 pages, dividing the novel into two halves – a “long ago and far away” part, and an earthside 1945-1955 part. I intended to keep rewriting until I got all the way through it – but then I had to set that aside to work on the background to the new phase of the campaign. And these days, I no longer have access to that software or computer system – I would have to start afresh.

Most of what I have written is unpublishable. There are too many characters who are obviously derivative of others. Even today, many of the new characters that I am using would leave me subject to far too much legal exposure. A character named “Mento” with a helmet that gives him psionic powers? A character named “Colossus” with metallic skin? A character named “Thanos” who’s into death in a big way? For all that these are completely different concepts from the originals beyond these superficialities, there is way too much similarity for me to trust my luck. I wouldn’t even be comfortable making these characters available as PDF downloads here at Campaign Mastery.

The novels are all page-turners – my players and even people who have never played in one of my games have told me as much – and are full of interesting ideas and plot twists and compelling characters with fascinating stories. But they will never see the light of day aside from private distribution.

Incident The Third: Learning to Co-GM

Co-GMing is a tricky art. You need to communicate your ideas and assumptions to a far greater extent than most people realize. Even though I end up doing the bulk of the actual running of the game, there are times when my co-GM and I deliberately play off each other – one handling administration duties while the other plays an NPC, or even both of us playing different NPCs at the same time (which makes conversations far easier). But every word of the adventure is a genuine collaboration between my co-GM and myself, with both of us contributing ideas and deriving inspiration from each other’s suggestions. One of these days I’ll publish one of our adventures here at Campaign Mastery verbatim – no editing or revision, no introduction of PCs, nothing but what was actually on the printed page. Of course, we rely a lot on photographic illustration, most of which I can’t use here, because I don’t have the rights to do so. So I’m not sure how much people could get from it.

Incident The Fourth: New Player in a long-running Campaign

Nothing really shows you how much accumulated conceptual weight a campaign has built up than trying to introduce a new player. Even an experienced player can struggle. In fact, there is so much that you can’t give it all at once; it’s more than you can deliver, even if they could digest it all. So you deliver the bare bones, and spend a lot of time filling in blanks, at least at first.

Long-term Pitfalls

All these incidents demonstrate the major problems involved in writing for the long-term, and the all come down to a few fundamentals: Insufficient Originality, Assumption, and A Good Idea At The Time.

Inadequate Independence

If an idea is not your own, and is not in the public domain, you can’t use it. It doesn’t matter whether that idea is a character, a location description, even a pop culture reference. This is not the case when you are running a campaign – anything and everything is fair game. But the more you rely on the creativity of others, the more difficulty you will have extricating yourself from the entanglements that result if you try and adapt what you have written.

The best solution is to bite the bullet and be as original as possible right from word one. At the very least, it will prevent you from having to develop these things twice.


When I started planning the Orcs & Elves series, I had no idea of how much background information I would need to provide in order for it to be relevant to others. It was something that I needed to do (and still have to finish sometime, though the campaign-critical events have now been dealt with) but if I was going to take up reader’s time here at Campaign Mastery, I darned well wanted to make it worthwhile for those readers. That meant providing all the context that made the events described relevant to the players – readers at Campaign Mastery needed to know what the players knew, so that they could see how it tied campaign events together.

I failed to fall into the trap of assumption.

You can never be sure what your readers have read before. You don’t know what it is that they know and don’t know. It took weeks of effort and a series of 5 longish articles – plus a heap of downloads – before context was established.

A Good Idea At The Time

Some things seem like a good idea, but aren’t. In an adventure, when things go off the deep end, you can always retroactively rewrite the train-wreck. Players know it happens every now and then. Holes in logic can be glossed over or ignored completely. When you expect your written word to be of value to others years down the track, none of that is good enough. There can be no holes in logic, there can be no trainwrecks – even though you have more avenues for both to occur, since your audience is not the confined group of players/PCs for which a work was originally intended.

One of the best ways to save time and effort on a medium-longevity project is to target your audience. You can’t do that when your potential audience is the general public.

General Solutions

This is where it gets tricky. There are really only two solutions: An outside audience who can review what you have written pre-publication and point out what they don’t understand, or painful experience and plenty of it. Or at least, so most people would assume. In reality, there is a third: Publishing to a general audience a middle-longevity version, and asking what needs to be explained for it to make sense. What’s missing? What’s inadequately explained? What assumptions have been made about player or character behavior that might not be sufficient?

And there is a fourth: Time. If you leave something intended for long-term consumption to sit around for a month or two, and then look it over once again, you will see it with fresh eyes. This span is short enough that you will still have the answers, the context, and the explanations in your memory, but long enough that you will be able to identify every moment during the reading of the article/story/whatever that you actually need to refer to those memories because the written text is inadequately self-contained.

With surprisingly little practice, the delay required comes down to days, then hours, and then minutes. When I’m preparing an article for Campaign Mastery, one of the last things that I try to do is to read it – from start to finish. The need for final editorial tweaks, insertion of new paragraphs, rephrasings and clarifications, or even the replacement or removal of sections of the text become obvious when I do so.

Target Your Audience

The more immediate your written content is intended to be, the more it is intended either to be insubstantial, passing, and/or aimed at your own eyes. The longer you want your writing to be accessible, the more you have to take yourself out of the equation, the more you have to write for a complete stranger – one who knows absolutely nothing and has to be told everything. The big trick then is to have something worth writing about, and to be able to deliver that additional background and context in a way that doesn’t bore those who already know it while keeping it accessible to those who don’t. That’s the trickiest part of writing to the limits of longevity.

Comments (4)

Inversions Attract: Another Quick NPC Generator


You can never have too many quick NPC generators. Choice means that you can pull out the weapon most suited to the needs of the moment, achieving better solutions in less time and with less wasted effort. This article describes one that I often use when I need the NPC to have one specific character trait for plot reasons.

Fundamental Trait

The starting point is always the trait that you need the character to posses. This needs to be specified in a particular format in order to employ this technique: the trait must be phrased in terms of a personality attribute, and it needs to have a preceding adjective that is expressive – avoid general terms like “strongly” or “very”. You need to get a little poetic. You need to find a way of describing the trait in this fashion even if the actual trait is something other than personality-related.

This can be a little tricky the first few times that you do it; quite often the best way is to equate apples and oranges, i.e. select a personality trait to which the same descriptor that specifies the non-personality trait can be applied. For example, if you need a nimble-fingered character, the adjective to be applied is “nimble” but you need to apply it to something that can be demonstrated in role-play – “Nimble tongued” or “nimble tempered”, for example. The results can sometimes seem a little clumsy, but that’s okay – this descriptor is only for internal use.

Inversion 1: Adjective

And let’s put it to immediate use. What is the exact opposite of the adjective? Apply it to a different personality trait. You can get a little more creative here, and employ a little more creative license if you have to. If you were to start with “smooth”, for example, “rough” is the obvious inversion – but “prickly” or “sharp” or even “sticky” would be just as valid. The biggest trick here is to be really sure that you are describing a second and completely unrelated trait, and not something similar or related to the first – and that’s not all that big a hurdle, really. But it does specifically exclude the exact opposite trait, and that’s important to note.

Inversion 2: Trait

Next step, take the subject of the original trait – and it should now be completely obvious why it was specifically excluded in the previous step. Once you have that, add an adjective that is different from either of those used so far – even if it doesn’t make sense initially. Finally, work out an interpretation of that pairing that does make sense, by treating the new adjective-trait pairing as a metaphor or abstraction as necessary. “Sticky Anger”, for example, would clearly be a somewhat abstract description of someone who held a grudge and was slow to calm down, once riled.

The Combinations Matrix

It doesn’t take much effort to show that there are only six meaningful combinations of traits:

  1. Trait 1 alone;
  2. Trait 2 alone;
  3. Trait 3 alone;
  4. Trait 1 plus Trait 2
  5. Trait 1 plus Trait 3
  6. Trait 2 plus Trait 3

Deal with these, and we can forget the complications. So, what we need is a list of the specific combinations.

Four Key Incidents

Next, we need to determine how these character traits have influenced the character’s current situation by identifying four key incidents from his past:

Common Ground

First, an incident where two of the character’s traits worked in combination to achieve something that would not have happened without that combination. This could be getting the character into or out of trouble, or getting an opportunity. To describe the incident, there are five things that have to be noted: (1) how recently it occurred; (2) how it affected the character’s past circumstances; and (3) what are the long-term consequences? (Numbers four and five have to wait for a moment). These things should be noted in the appropriate empty space.

The more recently the event too place, the less emphasis there will be on the long-term consequences and the more impact there will be from the immediate consequences; the farther back into the past, the more the long-term consequences will have affected the character’s current circumstances and the more time the character will have had to recover from the initial impact; and, if somewhere in between, the immediate consequences will still be having an impact, but will be starting to fade in importance, and the character will be starting to plan his life around the longer-term consequences.

Having identified the way the trait combination has influenced the character, that should be synopsized as number four on the list; and number five details what the character is currently doing about the situation (if it was a problem) or what he plans to do, or is doing, to enjoy the situation or benefit from it (if it was not). In other words, what is he doing about the situation?

Because these are relatively simple questions in isolation, they are very quick to answer; but the value that they hold is greater than the sum of their parts. A surprising amount of depth can be revealed very quickly and with very little effort. And that’s a general principle that the rest of this system also exploits.

Trouble Ahead

The second incident is a time when one of his traits got him into trouble, but a second trait (or even a separate application of the same trait) got him back out of it. In essence, the same five things need to be documented. These are more about the sort of mistakes that the character has made in the past, and how he has gotten out of them, the life-lessons that he has learned from his past, and how he will react to future or current problems.

Once again, we have a great deal of information about the character crystallized into a single snapshot.

Indecision & Hesitation

Next, we need an occasion in which one of his traits caused the character to be indecisive or to hesitate, and an opportunity lost as a result. This is not only a hint at what the character fears, but also where his self-confidence was weak in the past, and may be again. Unless he has taken measures to improve his capabilities in that area since, of course. Ultimately, this event is about the character’s faults and failings. Once again, many key aspects of the character are revealed by this single quick snapshot.

Victory or Success

Fourthly, and the final element of the character’s background that we are considering, we need an occasion when one of the character’s traits was directly responsible for a victory or success. This could be a very small achievement, or it could be something with significance beyond this one individual. If the previous section illuminated the character’s capacity for, and reactions to, mistakes, this sheds light on the character’s first inclinations and responses, his first resorts when trouble strikes.

Other Known Factors

There are six other things that I list when creating the NPC. These come in two lists of three.

Three Broad Appearance Elements

I start with the three most obvious things about the character’s appearance, including what he wears, and how he acts. These visual or behavioral attributes should be obvious from a reasonable distance – from across the room, for example. They should also be as reflective as possible of the things already described; you want them to convey as much of the message of personality as possible, both to avoid the need for narrative, and to reinforce and reflect what narrative is necessary. Ideally, you want to convey the entire personality (or, at least, the essential parts of it) in nothing more than description and dialogue. Don’t fret if not all of it can be so conveyed; so long as you are aware of it, it will leak through in many ways, and having more depth than meets the immediate eye is a great way of making characters seem real.

Three Detailed Appearance Elements

Next, you need three things that are not visible at that distance, but that are obvious at closer range – when you sit down across the table from the NPC, for example. One of these should reiterate the same inference as one of the appearance elements already listed; a second should reflect one of the attributes that were not immediately obvious at a distance; and the third should be completely unrelated to everything else, a red herring if you will – because that also hints at there being more to the character’s story, and hence adds to the character’s realism and depth.

Applying Characteristics

For some characters, it may be necessary to then assign characteristic values. Use the information already decided as a guideline when this is necessary.

I have to say, though, that most GMs do this far more often than is necessary. I try never to assign a value to a stat until I actually need it; most NPCs in my campaigns never do. That’s something to think about, isn’t it?

Getting The Goods On Him

Finally, does the character have any possessions that you absolutely need to know about? What do those possessions look like?

An Example

Let us say that our plot requires the PCs to interact with a very formal individual – an upper class, old-money type. “Very Formal” doesn’t meet the requirements for our first trait, so we need to reinterpret it and encapsulate what we know into another form. (NB: I’m going to forgo explanations beyond this introduction until the end as this system so so easy I don’t think they are necessary).

Trait 1: “Perfect Manners”.
Trait 2: “Flawed Morality”.
Trait 3: “Slippery Connections”.
1 + 2: Perfect Manners & Flawed Morality
1 + 3: Perfect Manners & Slippery Connections
2 + 3: Flawed Morality & Slippery Connections

  1. Common Ground: Perfect Manners & Flawed Morality: A seducer of women using magnetism & politeness
  1. How Recent?: Ongoing for years
  2. Short-term/Immediate: Always chasing someone new, named in a divorce suit for the 4th time
  3. Long-Term: Past conquests, resentful at being used and set aside, come back to haunt him
  4. Current Position/Situation: Being pushed out of his previous social circles by past conquests who disrupt his attempted seductions of new targets; currently pursuing three women, one of whom is married to a person of Influence or Power.
  5. Response/Reaction: Seeking “next-big-thing” locations for his wooing, becoming known as a trend-setter, attempting to keep a low profile until the scandal blows over


  1. Trouble Ahead: Flawed Morality & Slippery Connections: Became entangled in a criminal enterprise, sold out the enterprise to protect himself
  1. How Recent?: About 2 years ago, trail about 9 months ago
  2. Short-term/Immediate: protective custody during trial
  3. Long-Term: first parolees about to hit the streets, payback on their minds
  4. Current Position/Situation: becoming nervous
  5. Response/Reaction: carrying an illegal weapon for self-protection, wants to hire a bodyguard, nervous around strangers


  1. Indecision / Hesitation: Flawed Morality: Missed a dream job because he was involved with the wife of the business owner
  1. How Recent?: Five years ago
  2. Short-term/Immediate: unemployment, unaccustomed hardship when it came out anyway & his allowance was cut off
  3. Long-Term: more willing to take a risk, resents having lost a good opportunity with nothing to show for it
  4. Current Position/Situation: self-reliant & independent
  5. Response/Reaction: now thinks it may have been the best thing that ever happened to him as it pushed him out of the nest


  1. Victory or Success: Perfect Manners: Charm and politeness have landed him a hosting job on morning TV
  1. How Recent?: A month ago
  2. Short-term/Immediate: Fame and success make personal conquests easier
  3. Long-Term: Bigger scandals are inevitable, they will be more public, and fame will make him an easier target for his former “colleagues”
  4. Current Position/Situation: Enjoying the first fruits of fame
  5. Response/Reaction: secretly becoming nervous and likely to overreact to possible threats

Three Broad Appearance Elements:

  • Magnetic Eyes
  • Immaculately Dressed
  • Fit & Healthy

Three detail Appearance Elements:

  • Charismatic
  • Wary of surroundings
  • Delicate fingers
Commentary on the example

This example really illustrates the effectiveness of the approach. The character that has resulted is not particularly likable, but is charming and seductive. He started out being wholly unlikeable (from an outside/modern perspective), a privileged rich kid and womanizer, but subsequent events have showed a hint of morality (in the service of self-preservation), a sense that he has suffered failures and setbacks as a result of his flaws, and is heading for an even bigger fall in the future, which palliates our sense of justice being served and engages just a hint of sympathy. I get the sense that he is smart enough to want to ditch the “personal protection” as soon as he can find a reliable bodyguard. The character is complex enough to be interesting, yet simple enough to be easily played.

Just as usefully, we can tell where he is likely to be encountered, who he is likely to be with, what he is likely to be doing, and how he will react to being approached by a PC. And it was fast enough to be done on the fly on a scratch-pad while the GM is running the game, or to be generated in advance if you know you’re going to need him. While a throwaway character, he has enough depth that the GM could happily have him make repeat appearances. You want to see what happens to him next!

The Same Example

To further demonstrate the power of the technique, here’s the same example again, showing how different choices lead to a wholly different character:

Trait 1: “Polished Formality”.
Trait 2: “Rude Heritage”.
Trait 3: “Dangerous Content”.
1 + 2: Polished Formality & Rude Heritage
1 + 3: Polished Formality & Dangerous Content
2 + 3: Rude Heritage & Dangerous Content

  1. Common Ground: Polished Formality & Rude Heritage: Used his silver tongue to parley his birth disadvantages (Mixed parentage born out of wedlock in the Middle East) into a free education and resettlement in a Western Country
  1. How Recent?: Sixteen years ago (age 14)
  2. Short-term/Immediate: Denounced by his birth nation, renounced by his father (a public figure with wealth)
  3. Long-Term: Anger & Resentment at being denied his rightful heritage by the race of his mother & circumstances of his birth
  4. Current Position/Situation: Has completed a law degree, active in student politics until graduation, demands radical reform of his birth nation
  5. Response/Reaction: Politically active (remotely) in opposition to the regime of which his father is a member, a radical reformer, a frequent “talking head” regarding Middle Eastern affairs


  1. Trouble Ahead: Rude Heritage & Dangerous Content: Targeted by domestic intelligence as a subversive & potential terrorist
  1. How Recent?: Nine years ago
  2. Short-term/Immediate: Awareness of monitoring, friends questioned by strangers, slight paranoia
  3. Long-Term: Resentment of being targeted in this way will further generalize distrust of authority
  4. Current Position/Situation: Resentment needs some triggering event to focus it into specific action, the lull before the storm
  5. Response/Reaction: Passionate defense of the ideals of his adopted country and dissatisfaction with the contrasting reality has made him more outspoken. When something happens to trigger his outrage, he will begin making speeches and organizing protest rallies, becoming a focal point of the protest movement.


  1. Indecision / Hesitation: Rude Heritage: Although resentful of his roots and the treatment they have caused him, he still struggles to throw off those fundamental lessons. The self-worth issues that resulted caused him to reject a girl that he felt very drawn to because of his unworthiness.
  1. How Recent?: Ten years ago
  2. Short-term/Immediate: An increase in attempts to gain peer approval to redeem his self-image
  3. Long-Term: Regret over the lost opportunity, determination not to be held back by the ‘failed teachings’ of his youth.
  4. Current Position/Situation: While thinking that he has come to terms with the situation, this only fueled his resentment toward the attitudes of his homeland.
  5. Response/Reaction: Actively trying to become more Western in every way, insists on being an ‘expert’ not a ‘spokesman’ on a wide range of issues, becoming more political in general


  1. Victory or Success: Successfully and very publicly challenged an attempt to deport a middle-eastern man on the grounds that his upbringing left him with diminished capacity to interact with a more modern society
  1. How Recent?: Eight months
  2. Short-term/Immediate: The legal success has bolstered his reputation and the clientèle of his small law firm. He has a number of personal liberty, public advocacy, and immigration cases on his books as a result.
  3. Long-Term: His public profile and success will attract people seeking to use his services and ideals for their own ends, which may be opposed to his personal interests, bringing about a personal crisis.
  4. Current Position/Situation: Overconfident, morally superior, even smug about his success. He can’t see the train-wreck coming.
  5. Response/Reaction: The character’s future teeters on a knife-edge. He could become a great reformer, a worthy politician, or the leader/spokesman of a terrorist cell. He could become a lawyer and mouthpiece for Wikileaks, or he could join one of the mainstream political parties, or even start one of his own. He has not yet thrown off the resentments and shackles of his upbringing and these can be manipulated against him. The exact circumstances under which the long-term effects described manifest, coupled with the atmosphere created by government policies and actions in the meanwhile, will frame his state of mind when the crisis comes, and hence the eventual outcome.

Three Broad Appearance Elements:

  • Slightly swarthy
  • Immaculately Dressed
  • Clean-shaven

Three detail Appearance Elements:

  • Heavy eyebrows
  • Passionate eyes
  • An air of being dangerous to cross
Commentary on the example

(Okay, I got a little carried away on this one). A completely different character from the same starting point (Very formal, upper-class, old money), this gentleman is the type whose very politeness is a weapon, and one that he employs very effectively to intimidate and dominate. Emerging from a challenged early life, he has smooth-talked his way into a very dangerous and precarious position. Will he rise above the trappings of his background, or will he become its ultimate victim? Like the first example, this is a character heading for a personal and professional train-wreck. Despite being an older man than the first example, in many ways, he is less grown-up. He has the potential to be any of several great men, or to become an even greater evil than those he opposes. Or will he fall, and then rise up to redeem himself?

Once again, this is a character with depth, and with a compelling story which is only in its early stages, great for either a one-off or recurring role within a plotline. We can tell where he is likely to be, who he is likely to be with, what he is likely to be doing, and how he will react to an approach by a PC.


And that’s really all there is to it. Like By the seat of your pants: the 3 minute (or less) NPC and the system I described last week (Ten Million Stories: Breathing life into an urban population), it’s quick and effective, especially when you need a character to serve a specific function within the plot. It’s great power is that it constructs a story around the NPC into which the PCs will insert themselves. The NPC is not a static individual, his current identity is just a snapshot in the middle of a personal narrative. Give this method a try the next time you need a character to fill a specific pair of shoes in your game!

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Epigrams Of Life and Gaming: Selection No. 2

epigrams series logo-opt

About the “Epigrams Of Mike” series:

An epigram is a brief, interesting, memorable, and sometimes surprising or satirical statement. Usually under the hashtag #Musing, I have the habit of occasionally tweeting notions and thoughts and philosophizing; the 140-character limit of twitter (and yes, I know there are ways around that) by definition makes those tweets epigrams. I’ve been documenting the best of them (in my opinion) with the intention of discussing them here. Because I’m not constrained to 140 characters, I’ve been able to clarify some that had been compressed severely in order to fit twitter’s limits – but they are all still very short.

These can be thoughts that run deep, or that are succinct to the point of being razor-sharp. Taken all at once, they can be overwhelming, and each can receive less than the attention it deserves. So I’ve broken them into batches of ten or twelve. I’m not going to present them all at once, instead relegating this to the status of an irregular series. After each epigram, I will try to expand on the thought propounded, or discuss the point raised.

Not all of these are directly applicable to RPGs. But all RPGs involve people, and that makes them all at least indirectly relevant.


Diverse interests = diverse twitter followers = diverse perspectives. Call it the Insight equation.

I’m interested in a lot of different subjects. Science, technology, history, psychology, medicine, computers, philosophy, writing, aviation, disasters (and learning from them), music, urban myths, art, drama, crime, fantasy, sci-fi, comics, politics, anime, formula one, other motorsports, social media, and of course roleplay games. A lot of these other subjects have emerged from the latter hobby, and a lot more of them have fed back into that hobby.

Because I use the one twitter account for everything, the things that I tweet about are equally diverse, and my followers on Twitter reflect that diversity. Because they come at things from such wildly diverse directions, on any given subject you are likely to get a diverse spread of opinions. I have my own opinions, but I listen to all of these, because I find that doing so helps me make a more informed judgment of my own. I frequently gain insights as a result that would never be possible without such a diverse foundation, and I am able to transmit those insights to others.

What has been most astonishing is the crossover. I’ve had motorsport fans contribute to roleplaying questions and promote articles from Campaign Mastery that they found to be of interest. I’ve had RPG players discover formula one, or discover some fascinating new scientific discovery because I’ve told them about it. I have a lot of people who read what I tweet – and some who read what I write – not because they are into the hobby themselves, but because they are fascinated by what I write. That’s incredibly gratifying.

A lot of Twitter accounts are from people who seem unwilling to admit to more than one interest. I know some people who divide their lives up with a separate Twitter account for each interest that they may have. I think that both groups are missing out.

And it doesn’t just apply to social media, either. A diversity of friends in life outside of twitter, outside of social media in general, only adds to the richness of my life experience – and that makes me better at everything that I do, indirectly if not directly, eventually if not immediately.


We all have slightly different core values. It comes from being different people.

This goes to the very heart of what we mean by being an individual. It poses this rather existential conundrum in two respects. The trivial is the question of definition; let us say, for example, that I state (and show by my actions) that I value taking responsibility for my choices. What exactly do I mean by that? To what extent will I take responsibility – a private confession to anyone injured, a private confession to a third party, a very public sack-cloth-and-ashes display? Or no confession at all, except in my own mind and heart? Are there limits – things that I won’t confess to, no matter what? Things that will lead to one mode of confession but not another? Is taking responsibility about making restitution or learning from a mistake? And what happens when I am restricted in my range of choices by circumstance, or by other values? It must be clear that no other person can ever know exactly what I mean. We can agree upon a vague and general approximation, but that’s as far as it goes.

If that’s what I consider to be the more trivial contribution of the two aspects of the question, then the other one must be really major, right? Here it is: Relative Value Assessments.

I’m sure that some of you are now thinking “What? Mike’s lost it, he’s messed it up, there’s no way that ‘Relative Value Assessments’ is more significant than the question of personal definition.” But I stand by that assessment. Follow my logic, if you will:

“Relative Value Assessment” refers to the weight and priority we place on one value, and under one set of circumstances, relative to another. There are three contributing factors that lead to that assessment. The first is an inheritance from our parental figures in the course of our upbringing, especially the observations and events of childhood, shaped by the personalities and flaws of those parental figures. The second is the sum of our adult experiences, and the lessons (if any) that we have learned from them. And the third is the personality of the individual itself, beyond what has been derived from our past experiences as they are shaped by the other two factors.

The first two are essentially learned, or arrived at intellectually, and those are the only two that contribute significantly to the element of definition. But the third – that is something that is inherently you, something that defies comprehensive self-analysis, simply because there are so many circumstances which can factor into such a weighting. The personality may be shaped by learning and experience, but the personality plays no direct role in the question of definition; its sole area of impact is in the assessment of morality and relative value judgments. Everything that a character is, and feels, and has done, goes into the assignment of Relative Values. It is also more subtle and far harder to quantify and analyze, relative to differences in definition.

Relative Value Levels are the purest reflection of the internal complexity of an individual, and that makes Relative Value Levels more important in terms of individual core values, and in terms of individuality, than the matter of Definitions, which can be verbalized and articulated and discussed, with varying degrees of effort required, in a way that we can never articulate and discuss as a universal rule our personal relative value assessments. And that is the thought that is encapsulated in that simple pair of phrases.


Insanity is just a state of mind.

I don’t really remember the context that led to this thought, so I will have to reconstruct it. I do remember thinking that it was wrapping a more serious thought in a veneer of lightness and humor, and that it had a neatly-encapsulated double-meaning.

Insanity is not an especially helpful or diagnostic term, let’s establish that up front. It’s a buzzword tossed around by laymen to describe generically a whole host of issues, some psychological, some psychiatric, some biological, and some chemical in nature. It is this generic meaning that I had in mind when I wrote this epigram. In a nutshell, the term is used to describe any form of thinking that markedly differs from what the mainstream considers “normal”.

And that’s the problem. The standard is arbitrary, and based on consensus, not on rigid medicine or science. But we all think a little differently from each other, and we all sometimes have extreme reactions to sustained or traumatic stimuli. We’re all ‘technically’ insane (by this standard) from time to time. On top of that, we also use the term, or synonyms for it, to describe all sorts of other behavior. “I’m a little nuts before my morning coffee” – “Queue-jumpers drive me nuts” – you know the sort of thing. This denudes the term of any residual value that it might have held. That’s one of the two meanings – that the term itself is meaningless.

The other meaning is a little harder to grasp. There’s an implication in the aforementioned usage of the term that the sufferers are somehow flawed or weak and these are at least partially responsible for the conditions they suffer from – or at least, there was back in the 60s, 70s and into the 80s, when I was growing up, in exactly the same way that racism was justified under the theory that there were biological differences due to skin color. For some reason, that conditioning never “took” in my case, and such prejudice is something that I have struggled to understand ever since. I can do so, intellectually, to at least some extent, in terms of flawed reasoning and blind prejudgment, but simply can’t wrap my head around how people can seriously think that way.

The deliberate inclusion of the word “just” is meant to convey my total disagreement with the assessment from those days – and which I still observe from time to time – by trivializing the opinion of those people who still hold these dangerous and outmoded opinions.

Mental illness is a condition, triggered by some internal or external factor. With the right treatment – and we’re still trying to work out what those are – and with the removal of that factor (something we are only partially successful at) – sufferers can be just as “normal” as the rest of us. Which means that they are just the same as everyone else – they simply have a medical condition to cope with that affects them. And that’s the other meaning that I was trying to convey with this statement.


Which Quote Defines who I am? My own. All of them. QED.

There are people who try to start topics of conversation on twitter that get a lot of responses. There are lots of reasons why they might do so, and none of them are particularly important to this statement; suffice it to say that on rare occasions, one catches my attention, but more often than not, I find them to be superficial and empty of significance, a vanity exercise that doesn’t tell those who read it anything of substance.

On just one single occasion, one of these questions managed to tick both of these boxes, moving me sufficiently to respond. The question is the one quoted at the start of my response. Most people responded with standard snippets of pop psychology or quotes from famous people. A few interpreted it as asking which of their recent tweets best exemplified their personality or philosophy.

Well, I’ve written more than 350 articles here at Campaign Mastery, averaging perhaps 6000 words each (perhaps more), and at least 1000 responses to comments averaging probably 200 words each, for a total of 2 million words at a conservative estimate, and even if you put them all together they wouldn’t tell you everything about me. They would tell you a lot – even the ones that aren’t specifically about me or my life – but nowhere near everything. I can’t be summed up into a single catch-phrase or statement of philosophy, and I protest that oversimplification in others.

But rather than simply protest, or belittle those who responded with something specific, I chose to make the point with more subtlety and finesse.

It is sometimes said that “you are what you eat.” I disagree. But “you are what you write”? That’s a different story. If you are honest in your self-appraisals, you write from the heart as much as from the head – and everything that you write tells a little more about you.


Science Fiction is about the way the world will be. Space Opera and Fantasy are about the way we wish the world was.

Having protested at oversimplification in the previous item, I have to admit that this verges on committing that same offense. It’s true to a certain extent, but that’s as far as it goes. As such, I thought twice about making the comment in the first place, and thought about it a couple more times before including it here.

Science Fiction first. It’s an umbrella term encompassing such a wide diversity of material that it refuses to be pinned down. Anything that attempts to predict the future or the way technology or scientifically plausible physical phenomena will impact society or the lives of people is science fiction. Moreover, the accuracy of those forecasts is extremely pliable; subsequent scientific discovery does not invalidate it or remove it from the category. The science can be flawed, or even unexplained; science fiction encompasses “science fantasy” which has a premise science pulled and twisted completely out of shape. And it includes space opera, which falls somewhere in that spectrum of diversity, perhaps a little closer to “science fantasy” than hard science fiction.

At the same time, it’s not good enough to simply stick a rubber alien mask on someone and call the results science fiction – something that seemed lost on a lot of film and TV makers in the 50s, 60s, and 70s. Nor is it enough to drop a lot of technobabble into a script and call that science fiction, either – not good science fiction, anyway. Everyone has their own definition, and the sheer scope is what caused us to be infuriated by comments like “I don’t like science fiction. I prefer [X]” – where X might be westerns, or action-adventure, or mysteries, or drama, or comedy, or romantic shows, or whatever, because Science Fiction can encompass examples of all of these genres, and some examples of those genres also happen to be science fiction.

Nevertheless, at it’s purest, science fiction is about the future and how it will affect people, and that makes it – even if only incidentally – about the way the world might be, in the best expectation of the authors. And that (hopefully) includes how the world will be. So the first statement is true – but only to a certain extent.

But the real point of the comment is the second part, and how it contrasts with a serious and sober attempt to foretell the future described by the first part.

The darker our everyday lives, the more we need a little light at the end of the tunnel. In times of economic distress and misery, music becomes harder-edged and more rebellious, because it provides a means of venting anger and frustration that makes life endurable. And such periods are when escapist movies and TV hit popularity peaks. We all need a little magic in our lives, and when real life denies it to us, we find it somewhere else.

Romantics don’t prosper in romantic periods, times of high adventure, as much as practical people who can make the romanticism work for them. But when the world is mundane and gray, we need a little color to brighten it. And that’s the (hardly original) thought that I was expressing with this statement.


You think you’re intellectually open and then you hear a 4-girl doowhop group performing Metallica’s “Enter Sandman”…

This statement was triggered by a musical quiz show, which included the afore-mentioned doowhop group. Never mind that it just seemed so completely “wrong”, or that they did it very well; it was just so unexpected. No matter how intellectually open you might think that you are, there is always a new thought that is so radical to your experience that it stuns you, and that’s what this was trying to express.


Everyone’s entitled to, and receives, special gifts. Success in life is finding your uniqueness.

This is one of my personal core beliefs. Everyone is born with the capacity to do something better, more skillfully, more naturally (relative to the amount of training they receive) than others; if they are lucky, there may be many such things. To achieve satisfaction in life, all that is necessary is to discover what those innate talents are, and learn how to monetize them sufficiently that they can become more than a hobby.

Of course, it’s never that easy. Some talents will monetize easily, for example a knack in investing; others will not. Roadblocks of various sorts will undoubtedly occur along the way.

One of the key themes of the personal biography that I provided not long ago (Dice And Life: Bio of a gamemaster (A 5th Anniversary Special) Part 1 of 2 and Part 2 of 2) was that in many ways it seemed that (almost) everything that I had ever been naturally good at came together to create and sustain Campaign Mastery. Does that mean that there aren’t aspects of this that I find difficult? Not at all – I’m lousy on the business side of things, for example, and I lack some of the education in style sheets, making them a pain to work with. That just means that the job is bigger than the scope of my natural talents and expertise; it doesn’t in any way diminish the fact that almost everything that I’m good at is part of that job.

From satisfaction comes a level of success that you (hopefully) find sufficient. It may not be measured in dollars and cents – but the result is something that you are proud of, and that generates self-respect.


Like viruses, words breed explosively under the right conditions and lie dormant when food is scarce.

Any writer will understand this one. There’s a whole article that could be written based around using food as an analogy for whatever it is that produces the written word – inspiration as vitamins, and so on. When conditions are right, you can produce hundreds or thousands of words in the same time that it takes to force out a dozen in more impoverished literary circumstances.

And yet, that wasn’t what I had in mind when I penned this epigram at all.

The spoken word has power to “breed explosively” too, inspiring others. The hallmark of the great speeches of mankind’s history is the influence that each has exerted through subsequent years, often beyond the circumstances to which they were directly intended to apply. “I have a dream that all men were created equal” comes to mind as an example. These days, it’s about more than race, it’s about gender and relationships and the rights of all minorities. There are certain scenes in the West Wing that always remind me of the power of a great speech.

But that wasn’t what I was thinking about when creating this statement either.

No, what I was thinking of was the way an internet meme goes viral, and can then lie dormant until it is discovered to apply to an entirely different subject. Some memes, like cat pictures with witty statements, have found such broad application that they are still common, years after the first LOLCat appeared. But others have a more finite lifetime. One example was LOLCat-style images of Gollum, which were popular during the height of the Lord Of The Rings movie trilogy, died away, and then resurfaced with the announcement of The Hobbit.

Similarly, I expect a lot of old Star Wars -related memes to crop up again when the new trilogy first appears.

These memes flourish when they have something to say, and vanish when the subject has been exhausted; they require fresh topicality and a receptive audience to reinvigorate themselves.

It was while trying to formulate a general statement to describe the phenomenon in sufficiently short a space that I realized the other ways in which it could apply – that it was true about the struggle of writers to get into “the zone” where the words just flow out onto the page, to the viral spread of popular catchphrases like “Go ahead, Make My Day” or “[name], I am your father”, to the power of speech to inspire us for generations to follow.

Having such a broad application suggests to me that this statement may have hit upon one of the singular truths of human modes of communication, and one that puts the original subject into a broader context. That’s how it earns its place in this list.


If you learn from your mistakes, you need never fear failure; each is a steppingstone to success.

For me, it’s not enough to parrot quotes from various sources; you need to understand the meaning that each has to offer, and then to find a way to reiterate that meaning in an original way. The goal is to spread the meaning beyond the words. Often, the results are not all that inspiring, but occasionally I get it right, and come up with something that is worth sharing. “Learn from your mistakes” is a common-enough catchphrase, but it doesn’t have a great depth; it doesn’t self-evidently explain why you should do so. Perhaps it is assumed that we will all instinctively acquire that insight.

Enough people seem to fail to do so, despite near-certain exposure to the phrase, that I don’t think instinct is a reliable guide. So I reformulated it. I thought long and hard about leaving out the part of the epigram that follows the semicolon, but decided that while the result of doing so was more pithy and quotable, it made the same mistake as the original, it didn’t explain “why”. So I kept it in its slightly longer form.

This is something that I bear in mind every time I make a mistake (and it happens, I’m just as human as everybody else).

But this statement also puts success into a different context, by implying that the most successful people are those who have made the most mistakes – and learned from them. This is also something that comes to mind whenever I hear anyone described as an “overnight success”; the implication of such a description is that they have achieved that success without having earned it through struggle, perhaps bypassing the learning experience with natural talent.

I regard talent as “potential”; it still requires practice and mistakes and experience in order to apply it. Sometimes talented people put the fruits of their labors into public view before they have learned enough to do so; the results are things like songs with catchy choruses and excruciating verses. This is a phenomenon that occurs far more frequently in modern times, thanks to the internet; there is a greater requirement for self-criticism, and the ability to critique your own efforts impartially is also something that needs practice.

It’s never enough to describe something as “no good”, or to say “I don’t like [x]“; those opinions need to be justified to be assessed by others. And that leads back to my philosophy of reviews. A good review is one that gives me the information I need to make up my own mind, regardless of the opinion of the reviewer. A bad review is one that makes sweeping or bald statements and never explains them. It doesn’t matter if the subject is a movie or a TV show or a book or a piece of music.

“As a general rule, I don’t like Rap Music. But there are exceptions to that general statement, where the specific things that I dislike are overcome by things that I do like.” And that’s a great example of a bad review, because it doesn’t give you enough information to decide whether or not you agree. If I were to follow that up with a list of rap that I liked, you could place the statements into context. On the other hand, if I wrote “I find that most rap vocals create a conflict between the monotony of the delivery and execution of the lyric and the melodic attributes of the music, which often makes the whole unpalatable to me”, you have an immediate sense of what I don’t like about rap music, and what aspects of some exceptions are enough to span the resulting divide – songs with strong melodic components to the rap will be songs that I like despite their stylistic origins. From that statement, you can assess immediately how my personal biases have influenced whatever I’ve had to say about a specific work, or a specific artist. You don’t have to agree with me to make my statements useful to you in a review.


We like randomness in our lives only when we feel in control of it and its consequences. Is it an oxymoron?

Randomness – unpredictability – challenge – adventure. They all go together. Life would be very dull if there was none of it. And yet, we enjoy such things fully only when they are compartmentalized and controlled, when we can feel secure in the knowledge of our skills and our capabilities. You need confidence to cope with the unexpected.

Yet, we gain confidence by finding and overcoming the obstacles and challenges that are set before us. If it is never challenged, there is no way to determine whether the confidence is really justified.

It’s from this truth that the statement emerges, “Its when the chips are down and the odds stacked against you that you see what you’re really made of”.

In answer to the question posed, therefore, I would have to say “no”; the appearance of an oxymoron derives from the word “control”. It’s not so much a matter of “feeling in control” as it is having the randomness compartmentalized into areas where we have confidence. Take the most confident person out of their comfort zone and they will experience trepidation, uncertainty, and doubt. They may not let those emotions stop them, and may not even show them on the surface, but they will be present nevertheless.

Think back over moments when you were anxious about something – it might be a test at school, or while playing sport, or when you lost a job without warning – and ask yourself whether or not you felt in control of the situation, whether or not the challenge was one that you were confident of meeting. I think you’ll find a direct correlation between the level of anxiety and the lack of confidence you felt about overcoming the challenge.

We like to be tested – but on our terms and by our rules.

Perhaps this stems back to childhood; it always seems easier to gain the approval of parental figures with success than with failure. If it were left up to the child, we would never venture out of our comfort zones; but it rarely is. Other people are in charge of our schooling and our activities, and we are often pushed further than we are comfortable with. Analysis and understanding were my fortes, especially when it came to academic work; memorization was never high on my list, and any form of athletic prowess was a foreign country. I scored top marks in History in high school without remembering a single date. When it came to art, I was brilliant so long as I was left to go my own way; I enjoyed discovering the techniques of historical artists, but when it came to memorizing facts about artists and art styles, I was not great (to put it mildly). The consequence was that I sought ways of doing more of the things that I was good at, and less of the things that I wasn’t.

These same forces continue to influence us as we mature. The parts of the job that I’m good at vs those that I’m less successful at achieving influence the campaigns that I run, the adventures that I create, and the characters that populate those creations. Some aspects of the game get greater emphasis than others, as a result. Some players, who are also good in those areas, enjoy the games that I run; others, whose strengths lie elsewhere, prefer a GM that lets them play to their own strengths more.

Understanding this epigram, and its ramifications, is a window into self-discovery and self-understanding, into knowing why some things make us happy and some things are not what we consider fun, and into why we have made the choices in life that we have to live with. That makes it much deeper than it appears on the surface.


The best we can hope for is that at the end, we have made enough of a difference that we will be missed.

This somewhat maudlin epigram derives from reflections on the passing of a friend of mine (Remembering Stephen Tunnicliff) and reflecting on my own life and how I would be remembered if it came to an end. I’m proud of my achievements, but most of those no-one knows about. Most of my greatest victories and successes were won with no-one knowing they were even happening.

Success in life can be measured in many ways; Ebenezer Scrooge was clearly successful. Most success requires a substantial effort; very little is handed to us on a plate. That effort comes at a price, and it’s the consequences of the prices that we have paid, and how they have influenced others, that puts context onto our achievements. Scrooge was not a great role model, and neither was the children’s knock-off version, The Grinch. Their transformations came about as they became aware of their own mortality and the question of what mark they had left on the world was put to them, and they discovered that too much of their humanity (using the term loosely in the case of the Grinch) had been sacrificed to achieve their success.

When it comes to valuing success, the measurement is not made in objective terms – not in the long run, or from a retrospective position. A life is measured in subjective ways, in values, and the general consensus is that values are worth more than any material success. Material success improves lives only until the money runs out; it is a finite resource that is consumed. Values success can be spread for free, inspiring others to do likewise; it costs nothing, so it has unlimited growth potential. That means that the general consensus is justified, and that the real mark of success is in terms of the achievements in improving the lives of others.

Achieving enough in this respect that our contributions will be missed is therefore the ultimate goal for which we all should strive. Success in doing so is therefore the best that we can do with our lives.

If the previous Epigram concerned understanding the past, this is about preparing for the future, for a world in which we are no longer a part. And it puts a somewhat different spin on the oft-quoted statement “Today is the first day of the rest of your life.”

Campaign Mastery has enabled me to touch the lives of a great many people. The Kudos and accolades that I receive from time to time confirm my own opinion that what I’m doing here is worthwhile. And that’s a great feeling to have.


Every moment of every day is one you’ve been waiting your whole life for – whatever you do with it.

This was another reformulation of a standard line – the same one that I quoted a couple of paragraphs ago – but this deliberately turns that statement on its head, to deliver its meaning from a different angle. The original statement is more concerned with not wasting time, with living life more fully in the future, and about taking advantage of opportunities.

But I regard every moment as an opportunity. I choose to spend some of them in enjoying myself; I spend some others in self-indulgence; and I expend some on the needs of living in a real world. I’ve often said that I have a lot of trouble doing nothing, or in spending time in places where there is nothing to do; that’s not “relaxing” in my book, because I am aware that each passing moment is one in which I could be doing something, and those moments will never come again; they are in finite supply with an unknown number of them in stock. It’s not enough to take advantage of opportunities that are presented to you; every moment is an opportunity to better yourself, to prepare yourself, to provide for yourself, to enrich the lives of others, or to enjoy yourself. And none of those – in reasonable balance – is time wasted.

This epigram is about valuing the moments, about connecting your past to your future.

You can never make a “clean break” with “a past life”, because you always carry the sum of your experiences – good and bad – around with you. Even if a total change in environment brings out aspects of your personality that you had never shown before – and that’s usually the objective of “a clean break” or a “fresh start” – the old experiences and what they brought out remain with you. You can acknowledge them, and learn from them, and turn a negative into a positive – or you can pay the eventual price of them with nothing in return.

I put a lot of effort into Campaign Mastery because I appreciate the time that my readers have to invest in order to read what I have written. I never want anyone to say that one of my articles was a waste of their time. Because that means that writing it was – so far as they were concerned – a waste of my time.

Value the moments. If you spend time reading something, find something to take out of it that is worth that time. If you spend time writing something, make sure it is worth the time that you have spent. If you play a game make sure that you enjoy it. Campaign Mastery’s goal is to help you do just that. Which is a great note on which to end this article.

This article might be finished, but I’m not out of epigrams yet. There will be more; all told, I have well over 100 insights like these twelve to share. Be sure to check out the next batch – whenever they appear!

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