Jamie’s Sky by FreeImages.com / Amber Edgar

Recently, for the Adventurer’s Club campaign, my co-GM and I had to construct a number of small plotlines – one for each character – simply to mark the passage of a period of time in which the PCs should be doing something. We employed an old technique of mine – but one that has never been written up here, at Campaign Mastery, or anywhere else that I’m aware of.

That’s a shame, because it’s really quite elegant and simple. Today’s article will redress this situation.

First things first: this technique is neither game system nor genre dependent; it works for any campaign that has PCs with defined capabilities, but it does require the GM to have a copy of the PCs character sheet. I always prefer to have one of those, anyway; the number of times players have forgotten their character sheets vastly outnumbers the one or two occasions when I’ve forgotten to bring something important, like the adventure.

The Technique

The technique itself is very simple:

1. Go through the character sheet looking for a skill or capability that hasn’t been used in a while, if ever.
2. Think of one or more ways that the skill or capability can be used.
3. Think of a situation in which the character might want to use the skill or capability in that way.
4. Construct a sequence of events that puts the character into that situation.
5. Determine the outcomes of the usage, especially in terms of success and failure.
6. Complete the mini-adventure outline, or, if working on a larger adventure, apply the same technique to a new PC on the basis that they have to then take the adventure further.

An example, Step One

Let’s see how it might work in practice. We need a PC – so let’s invent a hypothetical one named George. We need George to have some skills or abilities; let’s assume that the game system is Pathfinder, and that George has Appraise +7 (ranks plus stat modifier) but has never used it.

The example, Step Two

So, what might you be able to do with Appraise?

In KODT #119 & 120, there was a two-part article Making The Most Of Your Skills by Jim Davenport. I talked about this article, and how I had adapted and extended it for my Shards Of Divinity campaign, as part of The Nimble Mind: Making Skills Matter in RPGs. Here’s the list of applications for Appraise:

• Estimate the value of someone’s wardrobe to see if they are actually wealthy or are faking it
• Determine whether or not a unique non-magical item is the genuine article or a fake
• Identify the era of manufacture or age of an item ±25% error
• Identify the workmanship of a notable craftsman
• Identify the distinctive style of a particular Kingdom
• GM may make a secret check to permit a character to notice a fake when not even looking for it. Spot gives a +2 synergy bonus to such checks.

For the sake of example, let’s select the 4th application – identifying the style of a particular craftsman – and build an adventure around it.

The example, Step Three

Under what circumstances might a character use his appraise skill in this way? One possibility is when discovering what appears to be an unknown work by a famous artist. Already this starting point has my mind ticking over.

The example, Step Four

Let’s say the character was passing through a small village fair when a painting catches his eye. With his keen eye and minimal level of training, and a skill check, he thinks it might be by a famous artist – and worth a great deal more than the asking price. It might be a forgery (but it looks legitimate), or he might be mistaken. We don’t want to give away too much unearned loot, so let’s say that it’s very small and carries a 10gp price tag – and might be worth ten times that much, or 100gp.

The example, Step Five

Normally, this step maps out the alternative paths the adventure can take, depending on whether or not the PC succeeds in their skill check or not, but I already have an idea in mind and to get to it, I want the player to succeed whether he rolls a success or not.

It’s never a good idea to give something away unearned – and that includes success or failure at a skill check. So if I’m going to let the character auto-succeed at the actual appraise check, for the sake of the plot, I need to reinterpret the situation of the check so that a failure will manifest in a different way than simple failure.

Remember: the proposition and alternative outcomes of ANY in-game-system test are always what you want them to be, within reason.

In this particular case, where something extraordinary has taken place, I think that making the appraise test without being obvious about it – and thereby attracting unwanted attention to the painting – works well as an explanation. Normally, to appraise something, you have to pick it up, turn it over, examine it closely, etc.

You may need to weigh it, or look at a candle-light through it, or drop it into a beaker of water – or acid – or any of a dozen other tests, depending on the commodity being valued – though those tests aren’t normal for paintings. You would normally need to take a painting out of its frame, and examine the back of the actual canvas, and the edges, and the material, and type of knife used to cut the canvas. That’s because, in part, you aren’t just valuing the artwork; you are also authenticating it, in your own mind.

Valuations of untested art

This section, and those that follow it within this sidebar, are written for those who know nothing about art valuation and who may not want to change that.

Art, like many things, is ultimately worth whatever someone will pay for it. If an artist is popular, the value goes up. If he’s out of style, the value goes down. Skill and Rarity are factors, as is the quality and condition of the artwork. Having a good story to attach to it can also drive up the value. But the number-one commodity is verifiable authenticity, and part of that is the history of the artwork, also known as the provenance. Who was it painted for? What happened to it? How did the current owner end up with it?

Ultimately, you need enough evidence to convince an expert to stake his reputation that the artwork is authentic. Valuations therefore need to be based around two or three different values: one if the work is certified as genuine (AND not stolen), one if you can’t convince the expert, and one if it is conclusively determined that it is not genuine, because sometimes a good (or notorious) fake can have it’s own level of cache and hence value.

Let’s call these A, B, and C. Valuation D is for any common painter imitating the style of a famous artist. A very rough set of ratios to use as a guideline is

• (10-100)xC = (3-5)xB = A, assuming the C value carries some notoriety, and
• (2-10)xD = C if it doesn’t but is nevertheless very well done.

If the routine price for a home-painted artwork is (say) 1gp if it’s well done, then being sufficiently close to the style of an ancient master to require authentication as not being by the great painter raises the value of the painting to 2-10 gp. If the expert isn’t sure whether or not it’s genuine, then the price is a fraction of whatever it would be worth if it IS genuine; let’s say 10,000gp for A, so 20-33% of that until its fate is decided, one way or the other – 2,000 to 3,300 gp. If it is subsequently proven to be a fake, but has gained notoriety for fooling some expert, then the value is between 100 and 1,000 gp.

In terms of the treasure values listed in various sources – modules, the Pathfinder Core Rules or D&D DMG, or whatever – there are two ways to interpret the values. The first is to assume that this is the maximum value that the painting MIGHT be worth; the second is to use the ratios given to attach an artist and a story to the artwork.

Method One

Let’s say that the source lists a painting as being worth 3,000gp. Under method one, to actually get that much out of it, it has to be by a famous painter (but not a great master), and it has to be authenticated as such. Until then, it is actually only worth 20-33% of that – 600gp to 1000gp. And, if it turns out to be a fake, it might be worth only 30-300gp, depending on the story that can be attached to it. This method has the virtue of simplicity for the GM, and provides further opportunities for roleplay down the line.

If the source lists an artwork as being worth 300gp, under method one, it’s a very pretty painting by no-one famous.

That’s because method one assumes that the value being quoted is the value if the painting is genuine, and is therefore the maximum that you will get for it.

Method Two

If the source lists a painting as being worth 3d6 x 1000gp, or something along those lines, or simply states a figure in that sort of price range – let’s say 12,000gp – then the value tells you that the painting has to be one of two things: either a lost masterpiece by a famous but not legendary artist; or it is a damaged work (reducing the value) by a more famous artist that cannot be authenticated for some reason.

If it were to state a value in the hundreds of gp, you have a range of interpretations open to you under this method; that gives the GM flexibility at the price of making things more complicated. It might be a genuine painting by someone who isn’t very famous; or an obvious fake purporting to be by a famous artist; or even an unverifiable painting by an artist of fame somewhere in between this range. The value tells you it’s not a lost masterpiece, but also that it’s not a common painting – it’s noteworthy in some respect.

Choosing between the methods

I generally let the appraise skill check make the determination for me. If the character performing the “field appraisal” makes his check successfully, I will use method two; if they don’t, I will use Method one. Why? Because Method 1 leaves the true value of the treasure in doubt, while Method 2 yields a definite result.

Complicating the picture

But art is worth what someone will pay for it, and any valuation is only an estimate. The reality might be that it doesn’t come close to that value when actually sold, or that a spirited bidding war pushes the actual price received up. The latter is less likely. To find out, I roll d% and add the appraise skill of whoever has authenticated the painting. If the total is 100 or more, then the value received is between 90 and 110% of the appraised value. If the total is 90-100, then I multiply one tenth of the actual price by d10 minus d10 plus the square root of (total-90+d10-d10), cubed; if the result is a negative, reverse the d10s. If the total is 50-90, then the artwork sells for that percentage of the estimated value; if the total is below 50, then it sells for between 10 and 50% of the appraised value – or possibly fails to make the reserve, i.e. doesn’t sell for enough to have the sale go through, and the characters have to try again to sell it on some other occasion, in some other market; the people who were there on the day didn’t want it.

For example:

Let’s say that the appraised value is 10,000gp, and the appraiser rolled a skill total of 17. At the time that check is made I will make a d% roll and add it to the total, determining the actual value offered the next time the PCs attempt to sell the artwork.

• If I rolled a 93, then the total would be 110, and I would then roll a d20 and add 90 to get the % of the estimate that the painting actually fetches when sold. An 18 on the d20 gives 108%, so the sale price would be 10,800gp.
• If I rolled an 83, then the total would be 100, and I would do exactly the same thing. If, on the other hand, I rolled an 82, the total would be only 99, putting the sale into the narrow window for a bidding war. 99 minus 90 is 9; 9 cubed is 9 x 9 x 9, or 729; the square root of 729 is 27. I add one d10 roll to the result and subtract another; let’s say, 5 and 9,respectively, so 27+5=32, and 32-9 is 23. One-tenth of the appraised value is 1,000gp, so the artwork sells for 23,000gp.
• If I rolled a 74, the total of 91 is still in the bidding war range – but just barely. 91-1 is 1; one cubed is 1; the square root of 1 is 1; add one d10 and subtract another (2 and 10, respectively) to get 1+2-10=-7. That doesn’t work, so I reverse the d10s: 1+10-2=9. So the artwork sells for 9,000gp despite the bidding war – telling you that the original appraisal missed something (or that the people participating in the bidding war didn’t really want to buy anything by that artist, but were caught up in the moment).
• If I rolled a 65, the total would be 82, putting me into a wide band where the price paid is less than the estimate – in this case, for 65% of that, or 6,500gp.
• And, if I were to roll 32 or less, the total would be below 50, so the artwork would either sell for a (relative) pittance – or fail to sell at all, if the owners had placed a reserve price.

Reserve Prices

I don’t know how these work in the real world. In my campaigns, however, I have a definite protocol based on the auction house making a profit, no matter what, for their efforts. If they sell something, they take 10% off the top. If they accept something for sale, they also charge a small amount – it might be 1gp or 10gp – payable only if the item fails to sell. In effect, this is a fee charged to recover the item from the auction house. Finally, if the owners want to make it harder for the auction house to sell the item by imposing a reserve, or a minimum acceptable price, the auction house charges an up-front fee of 10% of that reserve price on top of anything they get from actually selling the item.

Anyway, getting back to our plotline…

The Example, Step 4 (redux)

Now that we know the middle part of the mini-adventure we can backtrack and fill in the start of the story in more detail.

To start with, we need George to have a reason to visit the fair. There are many possibilities, but one of the simplest is to have something that it can be assumed that he possesses – a water bottle, say – break and need replacement. Normally, I wouldn’t bother tracking that sort of detail, and the players know that, so explicitly stating the failure and the need to buy a replacement is, in effect, GM-to-player shorthand for “this is where to find today’s adventure”.

Next, we need to work out what happens at the fair itself – a bit of local color to bring the event to life. So we throw in a juggler raising money for charity, a wandering troubadour having trouble hitting his high notes, and an apprentice blacksmith who has just gotten drunk for the first time. The juggler will tell the PC where to find the leather-worker’s tent for a donation, a transaction eagerly watched by the merchants; if the PC is overgenerous, the word will spread that he has money, and prices will go up, but be flexible; if he’s charitable. but not excessive, prices will be normal and NPCs will expect to haggle; if he pleads poverty, prices will go down a little, but be declared firm; and if the PC is rude or dismissive without donating, the prices will go up 50-100% and be declared firm, take it or leave it.

Unless the PC pled poverty, the troubadour will then attach himself to the PCs vicinity until he is paid to go annoy somebody else – the length of peace and quiet being dependent on the scale of payment offered: a minute for a copper, 5-10 minutes for a silver, an hour for a gold. Once again, the merchants will watch these transactions like hawks, while trying to pretend that they aren’t, and use them to confirm their first impression of the PC.

When the PC reaches the leather-worker’s stand, he will find the leather-worker busy dealing with the drunken apprentice. While waiting, the painting will catch his eye amongst a stack of bric-a-brac on display in a neighboring tent.

The Example, Step 6

What else do we need? Well, we should have a convincing line of patter about the artist and the painting, and we need to work out a conclusion to the situation, which is nothing but roleplay so far, without a lot of interaction or scope for player input.

The artist: Craffel Dentro of Lostown Downs was a landscape painter about 70 years ago who became well-respected for the dramatic qualities of his sweeping brush-strokes and colorful use of clouds as an emotional subtext to the subject of his paintings, which often featured recognizable buildings or landmarks, enabling him to make witty and sometimes biting social comment about the owners of the featured landscape without actually offending anyone by voicing criticism too publicly. This “code” only became public knowledge late in the artist’s career when he confessed it to the Abbott of Monkton. A minor part of the Expressionist movement, which focused on energy and capturing motion within paintings, it was the inclusion of this hidden subtext that began to elevate his reputation. Many have tried to emulate his style since, and while some have come close to the overt expressionist characteristics, none have successfully captured the whimsy or satire of Dentro. (NB: this is all completely invented for game purposes – there is no such art movement and no such artist.)

The painting: 14 inches by 8 inches, something of an odd size. A sunset, a distant storm cloud, and a sense that the rain has just stopped; several of the leaves glisten and there is the occasional droplet of falling water. An overgrown estate and an abbey in a slight state of disrepair. A graveyard next to the abbey, with one grave cleared of overgrowth; the headstone is adorned by a Bishop’s Mitre. Party-goers frolic and dance around the grave. Unfortunately, only the side of the Abbey can be seen, and there is not enough detail to be able to identify the location. The painting is unsigned.

The PC suspects that it might be a Dentro which was originally much larger, and that it was cut down in size for some reason, excising the part which would have held the artist’s signature. The dancers “mourning” the death of a churchman who had let the (possibly symbolic) abbey fall into disrepair was the sort of sly wit that Dentro was famous for. If it were complete and an authentic Dentro, it might be worth one hundred times the asking price of 10gp; in its current state, if it could be authenticated, it might only be worth 2-300gp, and possibly less.

If the PC questions the seller, Marit Hewnshaw, she will tell him that her father was an art collector who bought lots of damaged paintings cheaply and reframed them to hide the damage. Notoriously poor at his record keeping, it was impossible to substantiate his claims of having one or two really valuable items in his collection, which she has been selling off a little at a time ever since. This was one of his favorites, and sentimentality has left it to be amongst the last of the collection to be sold.

The PC then has a choice: he can buy the painting at the asking price and try to have it authenticated, making a substantial profit if he succeeds; he can tell Marit that he thinks it might be a more valuable painting and offer a fair price for an unauthenticated Dentro, taking some risk himself but still making a profit if he’s right; or he can take sympathy on Marit and attempt to get the painting authenticated before she sells it. Or he can even hope that it doesn’t sell and try to steal it after the fair; it would be too awkward to attempt to do so now.

Unless the PC is both very careful in what he says and how he says it, AND succeeded in making his Appraise check (DC 18, so he needs 11 or less), a couple of members of the local thief’s guild will overhear enough to convince them to steal the painting. They are based in the cellar of the Blighted Unicorn, a nearby tavern of disreputable character. There are four rogues in total in the village. They aren’t very successful because there isn’t a lot to steal in these parts, and they aren’t very skilled.

Wrapping up the example

Where this adventure ultimately goes is now up to the player. He has a very diverse set of options, and so does the GM. If the thief’s guild twig that he has supporters/allies (fellow PCs) to back him up – perhaps after a failed attempt to get the painting – one of them might make contact with a more competent cousin who is part of a larger thief’s guild in a nearby city, posing a somewhat bigger challenge. Depending on what the PCs decide to do, the GM can decide whether or not the painting really is a genuine Dentro or is a fake. What matters more than the outcome in terms of authenticity is the story of getting to that point.

Expanding the example

The GM could have another member of the party add substance to the theory that this is an undiscovered Dentro by getting a historian or priest to speculate on the incident that it comments on. The abbey might actually have entered a state of disrepair, or might be a metaphor for the Bishop’s flock. The party might have to travel to the nearby city and persuade/hire an expert to come and authenticate the painting. The expert they hire might be unscrupulous and deny it’s authenticity – while planning to steal it for himself. There might be a lost treasure involved, if the Bishop was greedy – and there might be a clue in the painting, when it is closely examined. There could be rival heirs, one nice and one nasty, and allegations that the painting was stolen (whether it was or not). Perhaps there’s a curse involved.

Or perhaps the legend of the PC at the village fair will grow and take on a life of its own (because it’s a good story) and forever after, he will be plagued with people bringing out their paintings for him to take a look at, “do you think it’s worth anything…?” Which would be ironic – choosing a skill because the character hadn’t used it very often and making it a recurring theme of his life.

How much you get from the technique is up to you, as is how big to make the resulting adventure. The one thing that is certain is that you will show off a side of the character that doesn’t get a lot of air-time, and get a decent mini-adventure. Anything more is a bonus.

On a completely unrelated subject:

Berin Kinsman dropped CM a line the other day to tell us about his latest project in hopes that it would be interesting to me, and that I would do him the favor of promoting it. I thought I would pass on the favor to my readers. Beren’s been a longtime supporter of my writing, from even before Campaign Mastery came alone, so any opinion I might offer could be viewed as tainted – so I won’t, I’ll leave readers to make up their own minds. Except to say that people like Beren, Lucas from City Of Brass, and Fitz (aka Brian Fitzpatrick) from Moebius Adventures are the sort of people that we want to encourage within our industry!

So anyway, here’s what Berin had to say:

For the last year I’ve been pouring my life into a new project called ReadWriteRoll, a roleplaying game based on the way stories are told. Now I’m launching a crowdfunding page to publish it. The IndieGoGo campaign page is here: readwriteroll [or click on the image] and there is a free 9-page Preview at Drive-Thru RPG. You can read more about ReadWriteRoll here: http://dancinglightspress.com. It’d mean the world to me if you’d help spread the word! Let everyone on Twitter and Facebook know, and keep talking ReadWriteRoll up in groups and forums! If you mention ReadWriteRoll on a podcast, vlog, or blog, let me know so I can share some reciprocal link love! Thanks!                                                                                                           – Berin Kinsman

I like the premise, and look forward to seeing what the finished product looks like. You might, too. If you do, the only way to make it happen is to back the project, so give it some thought!