I wasn’t going to show this image this large, but it looks too cool not to feature it. Even without the ‘little extras’ described in the adventure introduction a little later, it looks like an extremely angry river to me, at least!
Image by Hardebeck Media from Pixabay.
Click here to see and download a larger version. (You have to register to download).

“Game Physics*” have been on my mind lately, no doubt because of my recently published article on the underpinning theory of how Magic works in my superhero campaign. This article is primarily aimed at D&D / Pathfinder / Fantasy GMs, but it may also serve in other genres in which the underlying “science” doesn’t match what we see around us, in whole or in part.
     * see the footnote at the end of the article.

Creating an underlying “physics” can be a lot of fun and provides a distinctive attribute to make a campaign just a little different to everyone else’s. But it’s easy to lose your way, go too far, or make a right mess of things. The intention today is to lead you through the basic principles so that you can achieve success.

There’s a reasonably simple checklist that I use for the purpose; it’s the key to my success in this area, and the one time that I didn’t use it was the only time that the Campaign physics got “lost in the shuffle”. That particular failure has been nagging at the back of my mind for a while now, so I’m going to use it as an example and demonstration after a sharp look at the theory and process.

The Process

Although I’ve defined an explicit twelve-step process below, it’s rare that I would follow it rigorously. Much of the process is more instinctive, and more about deliberately courting a specific ‘flavor’ or atmosphere within the campaign to follow. There are some steps, however, that I deliberately focus on. I’ve labeled these as “critical” below.

That doesn’t mean that the other steps aren’t important, just that I might not focus explicitly on them while keeping them in the back of my mind.

The twelve steps are:

  1. Difference (critical)
  2. Reasoning
  3. Understanding (critical)
  4. Manipulation (critical)
  5. Consequences In-game (critical)
  6. Consequence Mechanics (critical)
  7. Consequence Campaign
  8. Consequence Adventures (critical)
  9. Veto or Approve (critical)
  10. Sufficiency, Excess, or Additional Difference (critical)
  11. Communication
  12. Display (critical)

Sequence is important, here, as many of these steps build on preceding decisions. Let’s walk through the process in detail:

    1. Difference (critical)

    The first step is always to define what the difference is, and what you hope to achieve with it.

    I try to avoid expressions and specifics of the sort that you would find in a physics textbook; a literary expression may be more vague, more abstract, but it is often more useful in not letting yourself get bogged down.

    It might be different if you and your players were physicists. Most people aren’t, and the fuzziness and looseness of a literary description is generally more easily understood and communicated.

    Sometimes, you start with a Game Mechanic that you want to input into the campaign for what seems like good reasons. This preempts a later step to some extent; if so, you’ll want to think about what the Difference is that manifests in that game mechanic, which is assumed to be reflected in the difference in game physics.

    2. Reasoning

    This step means different things in different genres. In sci-fi and modern campaigns, you will usually need to think about why this difference exists, and what other possible explanations there might be. This prepares you for players who want to understand the game world in an environment conducive to answers – remember that scientists in the game world will have been studying their physics for as long, and as intently, as scientists and philosophers have been doing, here on Earth.

    In all campaigns, regardless of genre, though, you need to at least suspect that the proposed change in the nature of reality will have the desired effect.

    Try to avoid the “We need to do something – This is something, so we’ll do it” logical fallacy. The best way of doing so is to have some reasoning, however vague, that connects proposed change to desired effect.

    3. Understanding (critical)

    This step is often overlooked.

    What do the people in-game – both NPCs and PCs – understand about the why of the difference? “It just is” or anything similar is a cop-out. Their understanding might be flawed, or it might be limited, or incomplete, but they will still have some understanding of why they observe a different phenomenon to that which a real-world person would expect.

    “God’s will” is also a cop-out most of the time – unless you can point to a specific deity and a specific motivation or intent.

    Critical thinkers, Magi, Common People, the Clergy, and alternative Faiths might all have different explanations, and one or none of them could be wholly or partially correct. Racial groups might also have a different “take” on the subject, especially those with unusual senses.

    4. Manipulation (critical)

    Once you understand what the understanding of the underlying physics is, what can the local population groups do with the difference? What does it make possible that would otherwise not be possible?

    If the answer is universally “nothing”, it’s very likely that your Difference is not profound enough, not broad enough. If specific categories or classes are the only ones that understand the Difference (or think they do), and jealously guard that secret because it gives them an advantage, that’s possibly not profound enough nor broad enough – but there is also the possibility that the discovery and revelation of the Secret could be pivotal to the campaign, and that would be perfectly acceptable.

    In particular, I find it beneficial to find some impact on the day-to-day ordinary, everyday lives of the common residents, because then I can remind the players of the difference just by describing what an NPC is doing..

    5. Consequences In-game (critical)

    What are the bigger-picture ramifications of a whole lot of people being able to manipulate the Difference? How does this play into the economy, into politics, into war, into society in general?

    6. Consequence Mechanics (critical)

    A huge list of questions underpin that rather sedate heading. How should the Difference be expressed in game mechanics? How much additional time will be required to use those adjusted game mechanics? How much will the game be slowed? Are there any shortcuts that can be used to mitigate these negative consequences?

    I’ve written a lot of articles about House Rules here at Campaign Mastery, and they are all relevant in one way or another to this question.

    It might seem like the ideal is for there to be no impact on the game mechanics, but I would be the first to disagree with that. A game mechanics consequence makes the Difference seem important to the players and the GM and can serve as a constant reminder of the presence of the Difference – and since the Difference is there to provide a distinctive whorl or loop in the campaign’s fingerprint, this helps achieve that purpose.

    If the original idea was a difference in game mechanics, that doesn’t complete this section, because of those dreaded words, “Game Balance”. You also need to look at all the other mechanics of the game for unwanted impacts, because if you don’t, you’ll stumble over these for the first time in play, and won’t be ready for them when you do.

    7. Consequence Campaign

    As is often the case when I compile these lists, I’ve already touched on at least one possible aspect of the Campaign-level consequences. Most of the time, though, you can leave this to sort itself out on its own.

    Still, some Differences mandate an impact on the Campaign overall, and that bears inspection and consideration.

    In particular, though, any impact on the game mechanics may also involve campaign planning implications – and those should be contemplated very seriously from the very start of your campaign planning.

    8. Consequence Adventures (critical)

    Arguably more important in terms of planning are any impact on the adventures that you can run. Are there adventures that derive specifically from the Difference alone?

    9. Veto or Approve (critical)

    Having assessed the consequences and implications (and made appropriate notes, I hope), the time has come to say yes or no to this particular proposal.

    There are several possible reasons to veto a proposed Difference. It:

    • Doesn’t have the desired effect;
    • Has too many undesirable consequences;
    • Demands intolerable game mechanics;
    • Is too easy to ignore or forget;
    • Doesn’t feel right;
    • Contradicts something else in the Campaign’s Game Plan;
    • Has NO consequences in one of steps 4-7, making it too trivial.

    There may well be others; I’m not going to pretend that this list is exhaustive, though it touches on most of the important factors that have been taken into consideration at this point.

    If, of course, the decision is to veto this particular change, it’s back to step one and the metaphoric drawing board.

    10. Sufficiency, Excess, or Additional Difference (critical)

    Assuming that your intended change survives, however, you then face a further decision – is this one change enough to make the campaign feel different and unique? Or do you require another one? Or, if this is one of several that have already been approved, is this a step too far?

    This step in the process can result in a last-minute veto, or it can cause the GM to decide that more tinkering is required, especially if the change is too specific or confined in scope.

    11. Communication

    None of the players who know me would ever set foot in one of my campaigns without expecting that I have tweaked the game physics in some respect, so I have little need to communicate that fact to them; it’s taken as read. They are more likely to simply demand specifics, in particular if those specifics will impact on their decisions regarding character construction..

    12. Display (critical)

    The last step is the most recent addition to this process, and one that stems directly from that failed change that I mentioned at the start of the article. How can you show off the difference, and have it make an indelible impression?

    My preference is to make the Difference a critical part of the first adventure if at all possible, though that may be deferred until the Difference makes an impact if that is not to occur in the first adventure for some reason.

Tales From The Trenches

I thought I would take a quick look at some of campaigns, past and present, in this context, for any object lessons embedded within..

Fumanor

When I started the Fumanor campaign, this step mandated a multi-session prologue adventure with the PCs at 0th level, with no class abilities, or with limited class abilities, but with their full PC-level stats. That gave me the opportunity to get specific about the impact on society and social practices in the game world of the Differences – and gave the players the chance to both design their characters with an intended class in mind without committing themselves to that path until they understood what was involved.

Shards Of Divinity

In the campaign in which a planned difference in game physics failed utterly, it was because this part of the process failed to cement the principle in place, because the campaign itself mandated a particular starting plot sequence and then left it to the players to decide where to go and what to do beyond that introduction, and they decided to head into the desert in search of a fabled dungeon that had resisted all efforts to loot it, and that left no room for the Difference to manifest itself.

Zenith-3

When it comes to the physics of magic in the superhero campaign, which I featured in The Meta-Physics Of Magic, about half the concepts had already been embedded within the campaign and made clear to the players, while the other half stemmed from seeking an in-game-world explanation for new facets of the game mechanics that had been introduced during the rewrite of that subsystem. It was by unifying the two sources that the resulting ‘reality’ achieved success and credibility within the campaign.

The Adventurer’s Club

In the Pulp campaign, one of the most important principles derived from the early adventures but wasn’t codified until we were several adventures in. That principle: the farther removed the PCs are from ‘civilization’, the weaker the hold on the world that ‘established physics’ has – and the stronger the presence of ‘the supernatural’. Demons, monsters, gods, giant apes, magicians (using Real magic, not Stage magic), ghosts, vampires, dinosaurs – they were all there to be encountered out in the fringes and beyond. At the same time, they were a comfortable arm’s-length away from that civilization, where they could be easily ignored by those unready to accept them.

This premise wasn’t articulated for quite some time, as I explained. Initially, I wasn’t a part of the campaign, and then I was a player. And then the campaign started falling apart for various reasons – all of them areas in which I was strong. So I offered to collaborate with the GM while staying on as a player, but he insisted on making me a full co-GM, beginning a collaboration that is now in its 16th year. The first adventure on which we collaborated, “Ghost Ship”, teased the possibility of the supernatural, played with the concept, walking it back with a mundane explanation for everything that had taken place, then teased the possibility again.

We drew on that ambiguity in developing the premise the next time an adventure took them beyond the fringes of Western Civilization, and immediately made it a featured element of the adventure. The deeper they traveled into backwoods China, the stronger the presence of the supernatural surrounding them, manifesting in encounters that ultimately led to a resurrected Chinese Magician from a thousand years in the past.

Mistakes of The Past

Of course, I’ve made my fair share of mistakes in this department in the past. You can read about a couple of them in a past post, The Woes Of Piety And Magic.

An example

This example draws on ideas that were present but ignored in the Shards Of Divinity campaign, which also started back in 2004, and lasted for 9 years of monthly play. But I’m going to ignore that failed attempt and do it over, running through the full process described earlier, because I think that with the more robust process, I can not only do it over, I can do it better.

    1. Difference (critical)

    Most geographic features and some inanimate objects are possessed of a rudimentary intellect and personality which expresses itself in various ways. This derives from the Lord Of The Rings and Caradhas The Cruel, a mountain with malice in its’ heart toward all who dare venture upon it’s slopes. This is a change that is intended to imbue the phrase “In harmony with nature” a whole new meaning and significance.

    2. Reasoning

    In most cases, the spirits of these objects are sleeping, but the Elves long ago awoke many of them in pursuit of someone new to talk to. They routinely awaken the spirits within the objects they create, which manifests as the benefits ascribed to Elven Mail, etc.

    3. Understanding (critical)

    As a result, Elven equipment is highly prized by most people. An Elven fishing net will fray if not cared for and appreciated, but can also be persuaded to repair holes with a little care and attention. An Elven lantern can burn dimly on request, or if it feels neglected. If it grows angry, it can flare up brightly at importune moments. The change is widely understood and creates a rift between Gods (and their Clerical servants) and Druids.

    The former grant their followers powers which compel nature to obey, regardless of the wishes of the spirit within. They hold the opinion that the spirits are external entities which merely reside in the feature of object. Druids are like marriage counselors, attempting to help societies live in harmony with nature, assisting in the cultivation of crops, etc. The bigger cities are strongly wedded to the Clerical perspective; the more rural the location, the more religion is merely tolerated, whereas Druids are welcomed.

    City-dwellers being naturally arrogant, smug, and superior, this naturally means that the Druidic perspective is belittled as superstition. Converting the rural masses to true faith (instead of merely paying lip service to the undeniable reality of Divine Might) is one of the most cherished objectives of the Church.

    Mages are generally divided on the subject, with a third faction who don’t know who’s right. Either way, they regard it as a distraction from the more serious task of opposing the demons that sprang forth from the same cosmic accident or act of creation that spawned the Gods. (A significant but troublesome minority hold that getting rid of the Gods will also get rid of the Demons, and the first step to this achievement must be getting rid of the Clerics and their churches, which means getting rid of the cities that accommodate, protect, and nurture them).

    Elves reputedly live the Druidic Ideal existence. The reality is somewhat different; they regard the spirits (and the nature of the objects they inhabit) as subordinate to their own existence, and so dominate and twist those natures as they see fit. In general, they respect the spirits, the way a good master respects and cares for his slaves and servants. The Drow are more malevolent, repeatedly crossing lines that most Elves find intolerable, mistreating and compelling the obedience of the spirits that dominate their domains.

    Elves view rural humans as earnest but ignorant, and ‘civilized’ humans (especially human Clerics)as being more like Drow than they are their rural kin. Since, according to those city folk, they represent the ideals of culture and civilization that all humans aspire to, they dislike any contact with humans and treat humans as untrustworthy.

    Humans who work with nature can accrue advantages over those who don’t, but are also restricted by the wills and desires of the surrounding landscape. In some cases, this relationship is casual; in others, it is almost parasitic, echoing cries of “Feed Me!” from a well-known Horror film.

    Humans who dominate nature liberate themselves from such considerations, but also eschew the potential advantages. It follows that Elven products are not especially valued by city folk, though the artistry may commend respect. They have far greater respect for the Dwarves, who also Dominate their environment (while considering their Mountains to be Divine in nature, a strange compounding of both belief systems.

    Most ‘uncivilized’ races have societies that are more akin to those of urban humans, without the culture and politeness and educational benefits. One thing upon which all Humans, Elves, and Dwarves can agree is that the Orcs and other such races are barbarians and perversions, weeds to be cut down whenever they intrude on the ‘gardens’ of civilization.

    Some larger entities, like winds and tides, may be inhabited by several different spirits at different localities. The western wind may be gentle and comforting in one place, and aggressive and chilly in another – at different times of year. All “natural” phenomena should be considered in terms of the ‘spirit’ persona whenever encountered.

    4. Manipulation (critical)

    Rural characters naturally gain advantages in primary production of various types, which in turn permits the cities to expand. However, Urban dwellers gain advantages in various other aspects of life like construction. In both cases, these people would have those advantages to some degree anyway, so this has minimal impact other than as stated. Nevertheless, rural dwellers outnumber city dwellers 2:1, which is why the Churches are so eager to expand into the rural domain – even though this risks upsetting the whole apple-cart.

    Social consequences are more about how something is done in an Awakened environment than what is done. However, the common belief leads to consideration of the environment being an active subject in any project, and the moods of the surrounding landscape have a direct impact on the desirability of a particular location as a residence, and hence (over time) the size and prosperity of a rural community. A location can be perfectly suited to the development of a large community, but recalcitrance on the part of the local environment confines that community to a modest size and a difficult existence. Another location might not seem so appropriate, but the Awakened landscape finds its neighbors and residents agreeable sorts, and so provides bountiful harvests that sustain a larger population and more comfortable existence.

    A prelude to military action can include actions designed to weaken or intimidate the spirits of the Awakened environment. A river that suddenly stops providing fish may be a sign of Orcs despoiling the waters upriver (the rural position) or simply that the Orcs are catching the fish for their own consumption before they reach the village in question (the urban explanation) – either way, investigation and military preparedness are warranted.

    5. Consequences In-game (critical)

    These have largely been addressed already by the preceding discussion, but there are some ramifications that might not be immediately obvious.

    The capriciousness of nature and weather is an Urban concept. The Rural mindset is that every untoward occurrence is someone’s fault. Where the former might send out a repair crew, the latter would send out an adventuring party.

    This, in turn, impacts on the prevalent justice systems, or in their application. In the rural environment, there are no accidents, but there can be mistakes. Those mistakes can inconvenience or impact the whole community, so it behooves the community to take action to rectify the situation – and punish those responsible (or irresponsible).

    Knowledge of this impacts on the mindsets of the respective populations. Urban groups are more likely to be headstrong and presumptuous, while Rural populations are slower and more cautious in their actions, which can give an outsider the impression that the populace are less intelligent.

    Describing an act as “unusually Civilized” can be a compliment from an Urban dweller, or a nose-tweak from a Rural citizen. Of course, when it’s directed at an Urban type by a Rural type, the Urbanite is likely to think it’s a compliment, anyway – something that the Rural peoples tend to take advantage of, insulting city dwellers right under their noses..

    6. Consequence Mechanics (critical)

    In dealing with or using any ‘awakened’ object, Charisma may be used as the Stat instead of the normal. When determining target numbers, the GM may adjust the target by up to +4 or -4 to reflect the cooperation of the environment.

    Every feature and awakened object will be given a personality, randomly generated, by the GM, unless one is implied by the size of the regional population / prosperity. Greater randomness should be used in determining the size of small communities, and cities will be 20-50% larger in population than expected. All foodstuffs will be reduced in price 25-75%.

    Anything with “Elven” in it’s description or name can be considered Awakened (eg ‘Elven Boots’).

    Significantly, this means that characters can no longer use Charisma as a dump stat – unless they are from an Urban environment!

    Characters will be required to define their perspective on the central question of the Environmental Spirits and hence, Urban or Rural affiliations. The exceptions are Mages, who have more options available. Note that the splinter faction identified may not be suitable as PCs.

    7. Consequence Campaign

    There are no shortage of enemies and conflicts to explore. Ultimately, the Mage Terrorists should become a central focus as they attempt to pervert an allegedly Elvish ritual in order to cause a Mass Awakening in the Urban regions, turning the environment against the city-dwellers – and the PCs have to stop them.

    As a general rule, the campaign should be pro-Rural in attitude, without being overt about it.

    8. Consequence Adventures (critical)

    Individual adventures should explore each of the conflicts established above. Perhaps 1 in 3 adventures might be so dedicated, leaving the others to be the outcome of actions and choices by the PCs. Every action should have consequences.

    9. Veto or Approve (critical)

    Game balance should not be impacted. There may be a small impact on the pace of play, but it will be minimal. For such a simple concept, the ramifications are widespread and will be central to the campaign, giving it a unique flavor, with “Harmony with nature” having a central role in defining the campaign. So it ticks all the right boxes and none of the wrong ones – I would approve this unless I already had concepts embedded in the campaign that might distract from it (as happened the first time around).

    10. Sufficiency, Excess, or Additional Difference (critical)

    The above hints at a complex relationship between mages, clerics, Gods, and Demons. This probably needs more exploration. Otherwise, I would consider this pretty close to sufficient. Anything else being added to the mix risks heading into ‘excess’ territory.

    11. Communication

    I would extract paragraphs from most of the above and pass them on to the prospective players, as there are definitely impacts on the choice of character class and background. I would also inform them that the first adventure would further explore the concepts and ramifications, and would start in a large rural community; PCs should have a reason to be in such a setting at the start of play.

    I would permit a maximum of one Elf OR one Dwarf, one Mage, and one Thief (because that’s a very urban profession and this is a Rural environment). Most of the party should be Human. First come, first served.

    12. Display (critical)

    When the PCs awaken in their respective inns and common rooms, there is substantial commotion. “The river is angry today,” explains someone to each of you, or words to that effect, and looking at it, you can’t help but agree.

    The surface is covered in black foam, the waters beneath are turbulent and crash violently against the wharf to which the fishing boats are tied, several of them now with holes in their hulls. From time to time, a blueish bubble of flame erupts from the agitated water; boats and wharf are both scorched and could burn at any time.

    There is a general streaming of the populace toward the Town Square, where a platform is being hastily erected as the Mayor looks on anxiously. It will look strange and mark you as outsiders if you don’t join the throng.
    (wait for Individual responses).

    “My fellow citizens,” the mayor begins as a hush falls over the crowd. “The river is angry. We do not know why. The town will pay 10 gold pieces to each brave adventurer who will form a party and venture forth to investigate and, if possible, to solve the problem. As you travel, you will, without doubt, come across other towns who will add to the reward, each according to their capacity. Who will brave the unknown for such a lucrative reward?”

    So should begin the first adventure of the campaign, placing the uniqueness at its’ heart front-and-center. All the PCs may agree to form a party, or there may be some who are reluctant. One or two NPCs will also put their hands up (cannon fodder to show that things are still dangerous out there). At least one character will be a Druid – an NPC if not a PC.

    What’s going on? Gnomish tinkerers have, far upstream, built an automated irrigation-and-harvesting system. Goblins have taken it over, killing most of the operators and driving off most of the rest; there is one brave survivor of the massacre who can be rescued by the PCs when they get there. The goblins, purely for fun and mischief, have corrupted the workings so that the machine belches black smoke and leaks unwholesome liquids into the river. The machine acts as a makeshift fortification which the PCs will have to get into. They can then smash the mechanism (earning the enmity of the Gnomes) or take the time to figure out how to shut it down (earning their gratitude). If the PCs think about returning for military assistance, the Druid will point out that the river isn’t just angry, it’s thrashing about in its death throes; if swift action is not taken, it will be too late. Once this task is complete, any NPC druid becomes superfluous and can be eliminated.

    (Treat the Goblins like Gremlins, from the movie of the same name).

It’s hard to ignore a concept when it is made the focal point of the immediate adventure, and when you take care to touch on it frequently. I have no doubt that the above campaign would succeed in exploring this concept and using it as a point of distinction where my first attempt failed.

The concept has been made far more central – in the Shards campaign, it was a side-issue. I had vague notions of it tying into the Fey Dreamworld, showing how the Fey could manipulate the “real world”, nothing more. The ‘spirits’ were to be Fey, too.

The procedure described takes a concept, develops it for use within a campaign, then tests it for suitability. If found suitable, it then examines the question of sufficiency, permitting the GM to choose between developing another concept and moving on to whatever comes next in his campaign creation process. That’s all you can ask of it; you have to supply the creativity.

A quick word about the title: I’ve been using the term “Game Physics” for as long as I can remember. It was only when writing this article that I suddenly realized that “Campaign Physics” was a more accurate and descriptive term – so I’ve used it, and intend to continue using it henceforth. And you should, too.


Discover more from Campaign Mastery

Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.